#he waited that long only for it all to fall apart

[fanficgirl429]

The Next Door Neighbor

Bucky x fem!reader

Prompt: A mysterious neighbor moves next door and the more you get to know him the more you begin to fall for him

---

The apartment next door had finally been occupied. For months, it had sat dark and silent, a blank space behind a closed door. You’d almost gotten used to the quiet, but still, you hoped that whoever moved in would be… calm. Quiet. Preferably not the kind of person who threw loud parties until 3 a.m. like the last tenants had.

It had been nearly a week since the new neighbor arrived, and despite your curiosity, you hadn’t crossed paths with him yet. Sometimes you’d hear the soft thud of a door closing or the muffled sound of footsteps echoing through the hallway, but it wasn’t often. Whoever he was, he was low-key—and that was fine by you.

This afternoon, a notification buzzed on your phone: your package had finally arrived. You slipped on your shoes, grabbed your keys from the bowl by the door, and headed out toward the mailboxes, hoping to beat the usual afternoon rush.

Just as you stepped into the hallway, the door next to yours swung open. A tall figure emerged, and your eyes met for the first time.

He had striking blue eyes—bright against the contrast of his dark hair—and an expression that hovered somewhere between tired and guarded.

“Hi! I’m Y/N,” you said with a friendly smile. “I live next door.”

“Nice to meet you,” he replied, his tone neutral but not unkind. And then, without another word, he turned and started walking down the hall.

You blinked after him. What the hell?

Without thinking, you headed in the same direction. After all, you still had a package to grab—but your pace quickened, trailing just a few steps behind him.

He glanced back, arching a brow. “Are you following me?” he asked, a teasing note in his voice.

“No,” you replied, holding back a laugh. “I’m just trying to get my package.”

He gave a small, amused shake of his head as he stopped in front of the elevator, pressing the down button. You came to a halt beside him, trying not to make things any more awkward.

“I don’t bite,” he said with a grin, flashing a hint of charm that hadn’t been there before.

You rolled your eyes, though the corner of your mouth tugged upward in response. The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open.

“Lobby?” he asked, stepping aside so you could enter first.

“Yeah.”

He pressed the button and moved to stand next to you, his shoulder just a few inches from yours.

“I’m Bucky,” he said after a moment.

“It’s nice to meet you, Bucky.”

Silence followed, filled only by the soft whir of the elevator and the distant hum of the building. The air felt thick with something unspoken. Not quite tension, but awareness.

“So… been in the city long?” you asked, breaking the quiet.

“Just got in last week,” he replied, eyes fixed on the doors. “Still figuring things out.”

You nodded. “Well, if you ever need tips or directions, I’ve been here a while. Happy to help.”

He looked at you then, just briefly. “Thanks,” he said, and though it was soft, it sounded sincere. “Might take you up on that.”

The elevator slowed, then opened to the lobby. You both stepped out and walked side by side toward the row of mailboxes. Your package—small, rectangular, with your name scrawled in thick black ink—was waiting right where it should be.

To your surprise, Bucky stopped at a box just two down from yours. He fiddled with his key, then cast a glance your way.

“You always that friendly to new neighbors?” he asked, a subtle smirk playing on his lips.

You grinned. “Only the ones who don’t throw wild parties.”

He chuckled—a low, warm sound that made your stomach flip unexpectedly. “Guess I pass, then.”

----

Over the next few weeks, you and Bucky ran into each other more often. Casual hellos turned into longer glances. You began to notice the little things: the way he always wore the same worn leather jacket, how he disappeared for hours and came back looking a little winded, the quiet way he moved through the building as if trying not to draw attention.

Before long, you found yourself timing your trips into the hallway to line up with his. Maybe it was coincidence at first… but eventually, you had to admit it: you’d developed a bit of a crush on your mysterious, handsome neighbor.

There was something about him—something that lingered just outside your memory. As if you’d seen him before. As if you knew him from somewhere.

But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t quite place it.

-----

You tried not to overthink it. People looked familiar all the time—maybe you’d passed him on the street before, or seen him in a coffee shop. Maybe he just had one of those faces.

Still, it nagged at you.

One evening, you found yourself standing at your stove, half-distracted as pasta boiled over. You grabbed your phone and opened your messages, staring at the blank space where you'd thought—maybe—about texting someone about Bucky. But what would you even say? "Hey, do you know the guy who moved in next door? I think I might have seen his face in a dream." Yeah, that wouldn’t sound unhinged at all.

A soft knock on your door snapped you out of your spiral.

You turned down the burner and crossed the small apartment to answer it. Standing there, holding a paper bag and looking a little sheepish, was Bucky.

“Hey,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Do you, uh… like Chinese?”

You blinked. “Are you asking me out, or trying to unload leftovers?”

A small smile tugged at his mouth. “Bit of both. I may have ordered way too much.”

You stepped aside, gesturing him in. “Lucky for you, I was just about to burn dinner.”

He walked in, careful not to track in dirt from the hallway, and set the bag on your counter. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I just got a mix of stuff.”

“You’re already doing better than the last guy who tried to feed me,” you said with a smirk. “He brought instant noodles and thought it was romantic.”

Bucky laughed under his breath. “Ouch.”

The two of you settled on the couch, balancing takeout containers on your knees as an old sitcom played quietly in the background. Conversation flowed easier than you expected. He told you a bit about moving to the city, how the pace was different from where he used to live, though he didn’t say where that was. You got the sense he was still adjusting, still figuring out how to be here.

You didn’t push. Instead, you told him about your job, the weird neighbors down the hall, the best place to get coffee nearby. He listened more than he spoke, but when he did talk, he was thoughtful. Wry. Honest in a way that made you feel like you didn’t have to try so hard.

At one point, you caught him watching you—not in a creepy way, but with quiet curiosity, like he was trying to memorize the way you moved or spoke. You looked back at him, and for a moment, the air between you stretched taut.

“What?” you asked, pretending to sound casual.

“Nothing,” he said, but his voice was lower. “You just… remind me of someone.”

There it was again. That something.

You tilted your head. “Yeah? Anyone good?”

His smile faded just a little. “Yeah. Someone good.”

The moment passed, but it left something behind. A question neither of you asked out loud.

By the time he stood to leave, the sky outside had gone dark, and the half-eaten containers sat forgotten on your coffee table.

“Thanks for the food,” you said, walking him to the door.

“Thanks for not slamming it in my face,” he replied, grinning again.

You hesitated. “Hey… Bucky?”

“Yeah?”

“You ever feel like you’ve met someone before, even if you’re sure you haven’t?”

He didn’t answer right away. His eyes flicked to yours, something unreadable in them.

“Yeah,” he said finally. “I do.”

Then he nodded once and disappeared into the hallway, leaving you standing in your doorway with your heart doing an annoying little flutter behind your ribs.

----

After Bucky left that night, you didn’t bother cleaning up the leftover takeout. You just stood there for a long moment, staring at the door, heart still thudding in your chest like it didn’t know what to do with itself.

There was something about him. Not just his face or that quiet charm he didn’t even seem to realize he had—it was deeper. Like your paths were meant to cross. Like maybe they already had.

The next few days passed with more of the usual: work, errands, passing hellos in the hallway. But everything felt a little more charged now. You were more aware of the way Bucky’s eyes lingered on you when you talked. The way his arm brushed yours when you passed in the narrow corridor. The way he smiled at you—hesitant but real, like he was still trying to decide if he was allowed to enjoy it.

One night, close to midnight, you found yourself standing on your tiny balcony with a blanket around your shoulders, staring out at the city lights. It was one of those warm spring evenings where the air felt like a soft whisper on your skin. You didn’t hear the door next to yours open, but you heard him—the sound of Bucky stepping out onto his balcony, just a few feet away, separated only by a wrought iron divider and the hush of midnight.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” he asked, voice low, like he didn’t want to wake the world.

You looked over. He was in sweatpants and a plain white t-shirt, blue hoodie, hair messy, eyes soft in the dark.

“Nope,” you said. “City’s too loud tonight.”

Bucky leaned on the railing, glancing over at you. “Funny. I thought you said you were used to it.”

“I am. Doesn’t mean I always like it.”

He was quiet for a second. Then: “Want some company?”

You hesitated, just long enough to feel your heart skip, then nodded. “Yeah. Come on over.”

Moments later, he stepped through the door and onto your balcony, pulling the blanket from your shoulders and wrapping it around both of you without asking. His arm brushed yours as he stood beside you, the warmth of him bleeding into your skin.

“Is this okay?” he asked, glancing down at you.

You looked up, met his eyes. “Yeah. It’s more than okay.”

The city sprawled out below you, but you barely noticed it anymore.

“You’re not like most people I’ve met,” he said suddenly.

You laughed softly. “Is that a good thing?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Most people… talk too much, want too much. You don’t push. You just… let things be.”

“I don’t want to scare you off.”

His gaze dropped to your lips. “Maybe I wouldn’t run.”

The air between you changed, turned heavy and sweet. He stepped a little closer, one hand lifting to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers brushed your skin, lingered there for just a second too long.

Your breath hitched.

“I should probably ask if this is okay too,” he murmured.

You smiled, heartbeat thundering. “It is.”

And then his lips were on yours—slow, deliberate, like he wanted to remember the way you tasted. You leaned into him, hands resting lightly against his chest as the blanket slipped slightly, forgotten, pooling around your elbows. The kiss deepened gradually, not rushed, not frantic. Just… real.

When you finally pulled back, your foreheads pressed together, both of you breathless and blinking like you weren’t quite sure what just happened—but neither of you wanted it to stop.

“Okay,” you whispered, voice barely audible. “Definitely more than okay.”

Bucky smiled then—really smiled—and you felt something unfurl in your chest. Something new, but familiar. Like you’d been waiting for this moment and didn’t even know it.

[regia-rainn]

Step-dad!Price x Reader

Price x fem!reader Description: Price and reader try to take advantage of a quiet morning. Genre/Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, CW: Stepcest, stepdad!Price x stepdaughter!reader, fem!reader, stepcast!141, Taboo, smut, fingering, dark romance, daddy kink, reader and Price are interrupted WC: 876

My Masterlist

**AN This is part one of a new series I am working on and my first time writing something more… socially unacceptable? Anyway, let me know if I’m missing any tags. Enjoy! 🤓 P.S. Not that I should have to say this but, I do not condone or encourage these acts. This is purely fiction and intended as entertainment only.

It was early morning. The sun had started peaking over the horizon and a blue glow crept through your blinds.

The smell of fresh coffee being brewed wafted up the stairs. It must have been John, your stepfather, getting ready for the day.

Despite it being the summer the wooden floorboards were cold beneath your feet. You padded down the steps wearing an old pair of shorts and a tee shirt. The shorts were a bit shorter on you now than they had been when you first bought them a few years ago.

As you rounded the corner entering the kitchen you could see your stepdad Price leaning forward on the sink, his back to you looking out the window as he waited patiently for his coffee.

You leaned over the counter on the other side of the island with a smirk.

"Mornin."

Your voice cut through the silence. Price's head whipped around. He smiled when he saw you.

"Good morning sweetheart."

Price greeted pushing off the edge of the sink and turning to you.

"Sleep well?"

You shrugged in response.

"The boys still asleep?"

Price nodded.

"And mom?"

You asked, stepping around the counter so he can see you fully.

"Gone for the weekend."

His voice is low, almost amused. His eyes roam over your body knowingly. You only hummed in response and use your upper body strength to pull your backside up on the granite countertop.

"That's a nice little outfit you've got on."

His gruff accent came out breathier than intended.

"You like it?"

Price runs a hand over the stubble on his chin eyeing your bare legs.

"Very much."

He replies, stepping in between your legs. He had his usual cheeky smile plastered on his face as his hands moved to rest on your outer thighs.

You leaned in, your breath tickling his ear sending a slight shiver through his neck as you spoke.

"I've got nothing on underneath."

You whisper. Price's brow raises in surprise

"Really... Nothing at all?"

You shake your head with a smirk.

"Naughty girl."

Price mutters his eyes darkening.

"I'm sorry Daddy... It’s just been so long."

You whine jutting out your bottom lip in a pout.

"I know baby."

Price inhales sharply, pressing His body flush to yours. His arms wrap around you and pull you forward. It had been quite a while since you were this close to him. You missed the way his muscles tensed, and the warmth of his body radiating off of him.

"You've been so patient for me."

One of his large hands slip between the two of you. Momentarily gripping the fat of your thigh before moving to push under the bottom hem of your shorts.

"Be a good girl and keep quiet for me. Yeah?"

His words hit you like a spark. The nerves change to arousal and there is a pulse between your legs. You nod your head eagerly.

Prices thumb finds the entrance, gliding your slick upward to circle your clit. You bite back your whimper, leaning back on your palms against the cool countertop. Subconsciously, you spread your knees further apart.

"So needy sweetheart."

Price chuckles leaning into your neck. He lightly trails kisses down to your collar bone leaving a couple of soft bites. A sharp gasp escapes your lips. Price presses his calloused hand over your mouth. A moan vibrates across his palm. Two thick digits press into the tight walls of your soaked entrance.

The wetness creates a soft squelching sound. You let out a shaky breath rocking your hips forward. Price chuckles, his gaze falling between the two of you watching you ride his fingers. The bulge in his pajama pants only grew harder at the sight.

"You're so damn beautiful like this."

His hungry gaze came up to meet yours. You reach a soft hand forward, hooking your fingertips lightly in his waistband and tugging his hips forward.

His eyes brighten with lust and a surprised grunt escapes him melting into an amused chuckle.

"Oh? You want more do you, sweetheart?"

He asks. He drops his hand from your mouth and pulls you forward by the back of your neck, capturing your pretty lips in a sweet kiss.

"So desperate. Don't worry baby, daddy will take good care of you."

The pace of his fingers picks up and Price lets out a low growl as your fingers grab his waistband again. You can feel the heat vibrating through you and the tightening of your core as you get closer to your climax.

"You've been so good, so patient, sweetheart."

Price whispers sucking on your neck. But before he can say another word you both hear footsteps stomping down the staircase. Price pulls back immediately.

"Dammit."

He hissed. Turning away to pour himself a cup of Coffee. You sit up straighter crossing your legs as Gaz rounds the corner oblivious to the prior events.

"Oh! Good morning."

He says with a hint of surprise not having expected anyone to be up yet.

You let out a sigh eyeing the back of Price's head. The ache between your thighs is still present. You knew it was too late now and that you'd have to wait for another time to finish what you'd begun.

PART 2 >>

[athenamikaelson]

Klaus Mikaelson X Soulmate!Reader x Elijah Mikaelson Ch. 29

Word Count- 8.3k

Warnings- swearing, death, and canon violence

PSA- THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS MENTIONS OF RACISM, HOMOPHOBIA, DEATH, AND ABUSE OF GAY POC. 

“You’re a bitch.”

“Good to see you too, My Love.”

I let out an almost animalistic growl as I turned over to Alastair, who was sitting beside me in the driver’s seat of his new Porsche. When I saw him after all this time, standing in the Mikaelsons’ foyer, I was surprised and slightly happy to see him, now that I remember everything he had done in the past few months, all I am is pissed. It doesn’t help that he gave me puppy eyes and pretty much begged me to let him drive me home since I didn’t have any way to get home, and oddly enough, Elijah was off doing whatever Elijah does in the shadows, and Klaus was plotting…again. I had told Alastair I’d rather walk, and then he said if I tried that he’d just follow me to make sure I got home safe, and he knows I hate walking. 

I’ve really got to stop giving my secrets away to strangers who end up being vampires.

“So you’re going to talk to me?”

I don’t turn away from the window, “Nope.”

“You technically just did.” I’m going to pull out my gun.

The ride continues in silence until we reach the gravel driveway of my house, which seems so much tinier after spending so long in the Mikaelson mansion. Mom’s car is in the driveway, parked along mine. 

Without another word, I hop out of the car as soon as Alastair puts it into park. 

“Y/n! Please just give me a second to explain myself, alright!”

“Nope.”

I hop up the stairs as I hear the vampire trail me. 

“You don’t understand why I had to do what I did,” The yearning was clear in his voice. 

I whip around and glare at him, “Then explain to me why?! Explain to me why you pretended to be my friend all this time, just for Klaus! Why are you so loyal to him!?”

Alastair rubs a hand over his face and then gestures with the same hand towards the staircase of the porch. With a dramatic huff I place my ass on the top step and Alastair sits on the one right below it. 

“I’m gay.”

“No surprise there.”

Alastair sends me a dirty look, and I respond with a raised brow. Obviously, I knew he was gay. He’d told me plenty of times when we would hang out together, especially when we talked about Supernatural and how he’d like to do certain things to Dean Winchester. 

“What I meant was… I’ve been gay for a long time. Like 200 years long. And being gay in this century is hard enough, can you imagine how hard it was for someone like me 300 years ago? I’m literally a gay black man, Y/n, times were and are hard for me.”

A wave of sadness washes over me at his words, and I nod for him to continue. 

“Even though I had to hide who I was… that didn’t stop me from falling in love,” A soft, sorrowful smile comes across his face, “August. His name was August and he was the most beautiful man I had ever laid my eyes on. And not to brag, but he thought the same of me. We kept our relationship a secret, hidden in the shadows. Meeting behind alleys, or whatever dark corner we could find, even if it was only for a single moment. Any moment with him was enough.”

He’s quiet now, as if he’s reliving the memories.

“We met up on a Friday night. He was in my embrace when the first hit came. The next thing I knew, a group of white men were kicking us. It went on for so long that I didn’t even know at what moment August had taken his last breath. One of the men had his boot on my throat, and I waited with bated breath for my final moments, but the next thing I heard was screaming. At first I thought it was my August, but when the man had moved his foot off my throat and I was able to turn over,” Alastair stops and I know what he must have seen, “Anyways, my eyes were practicality swollen shut from all the hits I had taken but I still made out the man ripping the others apart. I was about to lose consciousness when I felt something warm spill down my throat. A few hours later, I awoke and saw the same man sitting before me. He told me that August was dead and so weren’t the men that killed him, except one, who had run away during the bloodshed. He had told me that he could make all the memories go away and I’d forget this ever happened…Or I could become something no one could ever lay a hand on again.”

Alastair’s solemn face morphs into one of anger, “I chose the latter. Not being able to see the Sun was kind of a bummer then, but it didn’t stop me from finding the last man who took my August from me,” Alastair turns to look at me, “I ripped him apart. Tore him piece by piece. And it felt good…until it didn’t. Until I realized no matter how many people I killed, it still wouldn’t bring back the love of my life. That’s when Klaus found me again and took me under his wing, showed me control, and got me a daylight ring. As years went on, we kept in touch; he’d ask for a favor here and there, and I’d do it. Not because he made me, but because I wanted to. He had saved my life that day and then given me a new one. So when I got the call from him that only he trusted me to watch over his soulmate…I knew I had too. I know what it was like to lose the love of your life. I didn’t want that for my friend either. I had expected to be watching over some hot-headed nuisance like Klaus since y'all are bound, but… I didn’t expect to meet you. I remember the first time I saw you,” He laughs to himself, and I find myself smiling, “You were with Elena, and you guys were outside the Grill drinking Shirley Temples and then you proposed to see who could down theirs first,” He raises an eyebrow at me and I nod.

“And I won…”

“And then you threw it up in the bush,” Alastair's laugh is melodic, “And I remember watching you with…honestly disgust, but then you did something that made me pause. You laughed. You laughed so hard you fucking threw up again, and then Elena started laughing and you both were on the ground looking bat shit crazy next to a pile of vomit while passerbys gave you dirty looks. And at that moment, I knew you weren’t like him, like Klaus. You weren’t some copy…you were you. A girl thrown into a world that she wasn’t ready for, and I knew that I needed to make sure that world didn’t ruin that laugh of yours. And then a few weeks went by and I compelled myself a job as a bartender, and before I knew it, you weren’t just important to Klaus…you became important to me, too. You and you’re dumbass,” He points to me sarcastically, “moodswings.”

“So why did you leave?”

Alastair rolls his eyes, “Your boytoy got jealous. It must’ve been the night when you were on the verge of a panic attack, and all my immortal life I’ve always stood by Klaus’ side, but in that moment when he told me to leave you…I couldn’t. It was the first time in over 100 years I had chosen someone over him. And it didn’t help the way you clung to me, even when you were supposed to be mad at me. So he shipped me off to Denver to watch over your brother’s friend. He called me a few days ago and told me it was time to come home and that his brother would be taking my spot.”

I shake my head from the information overload, “Wait, you were stalking Jeremy?!”

“Stalking…watching over,” He makes a thoughtful face. 

“So, where does this leave us now?”

Alastair stands up and brushes himself off, and reaches a hand down for me to take. I think it over for a second and then place my hand in his, which makes a soft smile fall onto his face.

“That’s up to you. I’m here for the foreseeable future. And I kind of miss my work buddy, so…”

“For fucks sake,” I mutter before throwing my hands over Alastair’s shoulders and he quickly wraps his arms around me.

“You missed me, loser. Admit it.”

“Never.”

We part, and I give him a sideways grin, “Thank you for telling me everything, and I’m sorry about what happened to you.”

Alastair slightly shoves me and then shrugs, “Just don’t be going around town spilling my secrets, alright.”

I do a crossing-my-heart motion. 

“Y/n?”

My light mood instantly shifts as I hear my mother’s voice come from behind me. 

Alastair and I both turn to the dark-haired woman who stands at the front door with a blue robe wrapped around her. 

“Oh, Alastair! We haven’t seen you around here in some time,” My mother smiles at the man next to me, and he nods.

“I was away,” His now curt voice makes my mother nod.

“Well, Y/n’s got school in the morning, so she should be going to sleep now.”

I roll my eyes at my mother and then turn to Alastair, who is glaring at my mother. Ever since I told him a bit about my childhood, he’s always had disdain towards the woman. 

“Bye, loser,” Alastair places a kiss on the top of my head and then makes his way down the stairs. 

“Bye, Alastair.”

I turn back towards my mother and then push past her and go into the house.

“Why are you home so late, and whose clothes do you think you’re wearing?”

“Like you actually care,” I say as I continue to walk towards my room, but still hear her following after me.

“I am your mother and you’ll answer me when I talk to you,” She yells, and I whip around towards her. 

“Why don’t you just go back to work, Mom. That’s what you’re good at. Trust me, Theo and I are quite fine without you here. I’ve got the whole mother and father thing down.”

My harsh words stop her and give me the chance to open my door and shut it in her face. I sigh as I place my forehead on the frame of the door.

I hear a cough, and I whip around in surprise to see Theo lounging on my bed.

“Welcome home, Harlot.”

—--

“Theo, we are not having this discussion… GET IN THE CAR!”

Theo has been on a tangent about why I wasn’t home for a day, and then proceeded to come home in men’s clothing. He even camped out in my room so he could be all dramatic and catch me as soon as I came home. I eventually got him out of my room by grabbing him by the scruff of the neck like a mom cat does with her kittens. But of course, as soon as I was ready to be out the door for school this morning, Theo was camped out waiting for me. 

“I’ll get in the car if you tell me what happened.”

“Nothing happened, you freak!”

Theo, who is standing by the passenger door of my car, crosses his arms, “So why’d you come home a day late in men’s clothes?”

“None of your business.”

Theo groans, “C’mon! Ok, how about this, you tell me which one it was and then I’ll get into the car.”

I narrow my eyes at my brother, “You do realize how weird this is, right, Theo?! You’re my little brother, we’re not supposed to be talking about this stuff.”

Theo thinks to himself for a moment before nodding, “Ok yeah, but c’mon. Jeremy’s gone, and I’ve got nothing better to do than hear you’re fucked up life.”

Damn.

“Just tell me.”

“Nope,” I open the driver’s side door and step in, “Theo if you don’t get in right now I’m leaving your ass.”

Theo doesn’t move until I turn on the car, and he’s quickly getting into his seat.

“Damn fine,” He’s quiet for 3 seconds, “So….”

“Shut the fuck up Theo.”

—-

The rest of the school day consists of me avoiding Theo and Rebekah. Theo, who was somehow lurking around every corner, and Bekah whom I had every class with. She kept staring at me with a knowing smirk, and whenever I told her not to start, she would shrug and then ask me to help her set up for the upcoming decade dance, to which I denied each time. 

Caroline found me as she was leaving school and said she was going to be having a little talk with me soon, since she heard from Bonnie that I was at the Mikaelson’s looking, in Bonnie’s words, “perfectly fucked.” Caroline said she was pissed she wasn’t the first to find out but after she runs some errand she’s doing she’s going to have a chat with me. Great.

—-

The next morning, I awoke to a loud knock at my bedroom door. 

“Theo, I swear to God!”

“It’s me,” A soft, feminine voice comes from the other side, “It’s Elena.”

Oh Jesus. 

“Come in.”

I sit up in bed as I watch the doppelganger slowly enter my room with a shy smile. 

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

We both watch each other until Elena clears her throat, “How have you been?”

“What do you want, Elena?”

Elena frowns, “What do you mean?”

I give her an annoyed look, “I haven’t seen you in weeks, after you all continuously tried killing my soulmates and their family, and all of a sudden you’re here. Why?”

Elena is quiet as she walks over and sits on my desk chair, “I missed you.”

I give her an annoyed look, and she shakes her head.

“I swear I do. And I promise that I would never do anything to hurt you. Yes, I know that we tried to kill Klaus, but as soon as I found out that it would kill you, we stopped. We’ve been trying to find a way to break the bond you have with him and Elijah to free you.”

“What if I don’t want the bond to be broken?”

Elena pauses and gives me a weird look, “Y/n…what do you mean? Klaus, he’s a monster, he killed me! How could you want to be with him?”

“Didn’t Damon kill Jeremy?”

Elena flinches back in shock, “Well… yes, but he’s alright now!”

“And aren’t you?”

Elena stands up and shakes her head, “Why are you acting like this?! We’re trying to help you.”

“Elena, I don’t want to be helped! I don’t need it! I like Elijah and I like Klaus, even though they both get on my fucking nerves… I-,” I pause and run a hand over my face as I stand up, “Do you not even realize that at just the thought of losing the bond, I feel like I’m literally going to die? I know what Klaus did to you and I’ll never forgive him for it, but…you guys can’t act like the Mikaelsons are the only people who have done wrong in this town.”

“Y/n, I didn’t know…”

“Of course you didn’t,” I raise my hands in exhaustion, “How could you? You never call or text anymore! All you guys care about is killing the people who have actually given me the time of day in the past weeks. You all were supposed ot be my friends, but at this point, it seems like the only times I hear from you are in passing moments or when you need information about Klaus. I’m sick of it, and I think you should leave.”

“Y/n..”

“Get out, Elena!”

Elena flinches at my outburst but still nods as she makes her way to my door. Her hand is on the knob when she turns back towards me. 

“Damon told me what he said to you,” My shoulders tense at her words, “He was wrong. You are worth fighting for, and I plan to fight for our friendship and winning back your trust. And I told him this,” She pauses and cringes, “After I punched him in the face for saying that.”

I don’t say anything, which makes Elena frown and then sigh, “Well, the decade dance is tonight and I’ve got to go set up with Caroline. I would ask you to join, but I know how much you hate stuff like that. But… if you do end up coming tonight, save me a dance, ok?”

With those final words, she walks out of my room. 

“And you say Jeremy and I are gay for one another,” I hear my younger brother say as he enters my room.

“Theo screw off.”

—-

“I’m really liking this idea of having supernatural in-laws,” Theo says as he enters the living room of the Mikaelsons.

He walks into the room wearing a 20s-style suit he borrowed from Kol since they’re around the same size. 

“Looked better on me,” Kol, who’s back from stalking Jeremy, mutters from beside me.

Theo lets out a loud laugh as he admires himself in the mirror. 

“Please, as if anyone could pull this off better than I.”

Kol says something in return, and then Theo responds, and their bickering continues on as I stand up and walk out of the living room.

I walk into the entryway, careful not to trip with the pumps I’m currently wearing, courtesy of Rebekah, who is nowhere to be found. 

“Beautiful.”

I turn towards the stairs where Elijah stands in a dark 20s style suit that only makes him even hotter. If possible. 

I brush my fingers over the beaded dark blue flapper dress I'm wearing and shrug, “Rebekah has good taste.”

“Although the dress is nice,” Elijah walks over to me and smiles, “I was talking about the woman wearing it.”

My face heats up at his smooth words, and I roll my eyes, trying to cover it up.

“I don’t want to go to this thing. You’re sister is making me, and yet she’s nowhere to be found.”

Elijah's face contorts into one of slight suspicion, “Yes, that is odd, but my guess is she is already at the dance, preparing finishing touches and yelling at the poor workers.”

Elijah's words settle in me, but I can’t fight the odd sinking feeling I have that tells me something bad is about to happen. 

“Just enjoy tonight, Elskan. I won’t leave your side.”

I sigh and smile at Elijah, “You know you don’t have to go to this thing, right?”

Elijah smirks, “And leave you alone in a room full of hormonal teenage boys looking like this,” His eyes, filled with something dark, travel down my frame, “Never in a thousand years.”

“Oh, Brother, she wouldn’t be alone, she has me,” Klaus’s sarcastic voice comes from around the corner as he enters the room wearing a white suit. Good Lord.

I laugh as Elijah rolls his eyes and turns to his younger brother, “Yes, Niklaus.”

Klaus’s smirk softens as he turns his attention away from his brother and over to me. He doesn’t say anything as he strides towards me, grabs my hand, and presses a soft kiss to it. 

“Breathtaking, Astin Min.” 

“Um, I think not, Dog,” Klaus is quickly pushed away from me by Theo, who has just entered the room with Kol.

“Call me dog again, Child and I-”

“Niklaus, please,” Elijah says tiredly.

Klaus glares at Theo but doesn’t say anything else, making Theo smirk. 

“Knock it off,” I slap Theo in the back of the head, and he screams dramatically.

He quickly runs over to Kol.

“Tell me she didn’t ruin my hair!”

Kol assesses the damage and then fixes one singular hair, “Still looks horrible.”

“I take it back, I hate this family…Except Rebekah. I like her. Why couldn’t you have been mated to her instead of these things,” Theo points a finger at Elijah and Klaus, who both look tired of Theo’s antics. 

“Theo, be nice. They’re the ones who gave you that suit you’re wearing.”

Theo turns his glare at me, “Only because you called them an hour ago asking them to. You know she doesn’t need you two tonight, right? Kol and I are perfectly fine protecting her.” 

“I still can’t believe I’m being made to go to this bloody thing,” Kol mutters to himself.

Klaus takes a step forward, and I place a hand on his chest to stop him, “Enough! All of you. Everyone get your asses in the car, right now.”

No one moves. 

“Fine, then I’ll go by myself. Maybe I’ll see if Matt Donovan wants to dance.”

As soon as I walk to the front door of the mansion, I hear all four of them follow behind me. Idiots.

—-

The most annoying car ride of my life is finally over as we pull into the parking lot of the high school. Dozens of students pile into the school, all wearing different assortments of 20s clothing. 

Where tf is everyone finding these old ass clothes?

Elijah gets out of the driver’s seat and makes his way over to the passenger side door to open it for me.

“Thank you, kind sir,” I smile at him, and he gives me the cutest grin ever. Almost makes you forget he’s literally a serial killer.

“Get me out of here!”

I turn to see Kol, Klaus, and my brother all push past each other to get out of the back seat, where they were all squished in together.  

“God,” Kol stands out of the car and brushes himself off, “I’d rather go back into the coffin than ever ride with you lot again.”

Klaus, who steps out behind him, glares at his little brother, “Arrangements can be made for that to happen.”

Kol just smirks at his brother and then walks over to me and grabs my shoulder, “Can’t dagger me, brother, Y/n said so.”

“I literally didn’t, but ok.”

Kol shoots me a glare, “We had a deal, Little doll.”

I roll my eyes, “Just keep an eye on you know who tonight.”

Kol and I both turn our attentions to Theo as he falls out of the call, landing on his ass.

Kol sighs, “Maybe the dagger would be easier.”

Kol shakes his head and then walks over to my brother, picks him up, and pulls him toward the school’s entrance, “C’mon, Little Nuisance.”

I watch with a small smile as Theo continues to talk Kol’s ear off as they enter the school.

“I don’t like that pairing.”

I look over to Klaus, who narrows his eyes.

Elijah responds, “No one does.”

A cold wind sends chills down my spine, “Well, you two can stand out here, but I’m going in.”

With that, I begin walking towards the entrance. It’s not even a moment later that I feel both brothers grab each of my arms. 

“You guys do realize how many people are going to talk about me entering the dance with two dates, right?”

I see Klaus and Elijah peer at one another, and then Klaus shrugs, “I’ve never been one to shy away from public attention.”

—-

Loud music and bright lights fill my senses as all three of us enter the dance. The gym is decorated with red and white decorations, and the entire floor is covered with people dancing to swing music. 

“How…human.”

Klaus’s remark makes me smirk. 

“You made it!” 

Caroline’s loud voice comes from beside me, and I turn to see her dressed in a beautiful flapper gown. She looks at me for a moment before her attention turns to the men by my side.

“Um…hi,” Caroline says less enthusiastically. 

“They’ve promised to behave,” I speak for both men, “No bloodshed tonight. They’re just here as my dates.”

Caroline seems to ease up with that. 

“Ok cool…in that case, I need to ask a favor,” She reaches a hand out for me to take, and I turn to Elijah and Klaus. Elijah gives me an encouraging smile whilst Klaus looks annoyed. I still grab Caroline’s hand and let her guide me through the crowd of people. 

“What’s going on?”

Caroline brings me to a table full of snacks, “Tyler’s here.”

“Oh.”

I remember bits of Klaus telling me how he was going to kill his hybrid for leaving him, so him being here isn’t the best idea. 

“Is there any way you could ask Klaus to just give us tonight?”

I let out a sigh, “I don’t know if he’ll listen to me, Care.”

Caroline gives me a look, “Seriously Slut! That man would burn everything in his path if it meant you’d never feel cold. You walk all those Mikaelsons like dogs.”

I roll my eyes at her antics, “Fine. I’ll ask.” 

I begin to walk away, but she quickly pulls me into a hug, “Sorry! I know you don’t like touching, but I’m just so happy. And trust me when I say tomorrow you’re going to give me all the dirty details about your trysts with those brothers,” Caroline beams at me, “God, I can’t believe I just said that! My baby is growing up and spreading her legs!”

My mouth drops open in shock, “CAROLINE!”

Caroline just smirks and pushes me towards the crowd. 

What the fuck.

I push through hordes of dancing teenagers as I try to find my guys. 

“SISTER!!!”

A strong grba pulls me from the crowd, and I see Theo smile brightly at me, “Look who’s back!!!”

I turn to look at Jeremy, whom my brother is pointing at, and smile at him, “Nice to see you, Jeremy. Now Theo has someone else to both now.”

“Hey!”

I ignore my brother and watch as Jeremy gives him a soft smile. Kol stands beside them and stares at me with an annoyed look, making me smirk. 

I wink at the Mikaelson and go to say goodbye to my brother, but he’s already talking to Jeremy’s who listens intently. 

I continue on my venture until I see Klaus and Elijah standing with Stefan and Elena. Oh Goody. 

I walk up to them cautiously, and it doesn’t even take a moment before they notice me. 

“Y/n, Hi! I’m so glad you came. You look so pretty,” Elena smiles at me, and I force a smile in return.

“What’s going on?”

“We’re calling for a truce,” Elena says quickly, “For you. I listened to what you said earlier, and even though I don’t like Klaus and never will,” I hear Klaus mutter something under his breath, “I’m willing to live with him if it means you stay safe.”

“And you’re cool with this,” I turn to Klaus, who definitely doesn’t look cool with this.

“He’ll agree with it if it means you’re safe and out of harm's way,” Elijah speaks up for him, “Right, Niklaus?”

Klaus glares at Elena and Stefan for a moment before looking at me, instantly dropping the glare. I give him a hopeful look, and I instantly see his shoulders loosen. 

“I’m up to listening to them.”

Phew, well, that solves things. 

“Well, not that we’re good, I should probably tell you this now. Tyler’s here!”

Klaus’s look instantly shifts into one of pure murderous rage.

I quickly grab his hand before he can go kill someone, though, “Dance with me!”

I pull Klaus behind me, and surprisingly, he doesn’t need much force to pull him onto the dance floor. Once we’re on the dance floor surrounded by people, I freeze. 

“Ya, so…I don’t know how to dance,” I shrug, and Klaus rolls his eyes before grabbing me and pulling me into him. 

He sways me to the soft music, and I watch him as he is clearly in his head right now, planning many murders. 

“Thank you for coming tonight,” I softly say, knowing he can still hear me over the music. 

My voice shakes him from his plotting, and he gives me a soft look, “And let me brother bore you all night long? Never.”

“Elijah isn’t boring,” I chastise, and he gives me a look, “Don’t be mean.”

“The twenties were a vivacious time. Music was loud, liquor was spilling, and people lived freely,” Klaus says as he spins me. 

“Sounds nice, y’know, except the racism, sexism, and homophobia.”

Klaus ponders for a moment before nodding, “Yes, that did make the period much worse.”

“Thank you for letting Alastair come back.”

Klaus’ eyes meet mine, “You’re welcome.”

“Can I ask you a favor?”

“Ask for anything and it’s yours,” His voice comes out strong, and I know he means it.

“Don’t kill Tyler.”

“Anything besides that.”

“Klaus, come on, please! He’s my friend and Caroline’s boyfriend, and technically, you were the one who uprooted his entire life and quite literally killed him.”

“He went against me,” He growls.

“One, don’t growl at me, and two he’s a fucking teenager! He’s going to act out!”

Klaus and I glare at each other until he finally breaks.

“Only on one condition.’’

“What?”

“Kiss me.”

I fight back the grin fighting to break onto my face, “You’d really spare Tyler’s life if it meant I gave you one tiny kiss?”

Klaus smirks, “What can I say? I’m a man with a horrible addiction.”

"And what addiction would that be?"

Klaus smirks down at me, "You."

I shake my head and laugh, “You’re pathetic.”

Klaus’s face shifts, and I realize I must’ve hurt his feelings. I don’t give it a second thought as I lean forward and place my lips onto his. The kiss, unlike our usual ones, is soft and filled with something unspoken.

I pull back and smile at him, “I’m starting to think I like my men pathetic.”

It’s Klaus’s turn to laugh as he throws his head back at my words.

“I fear I’m stepping into an odd conversation,” Elijah says from beside us.

“Then leave,” Klaus remarks, giving his brother a look.

“I was hoping I could steal you for a dance,” Elijah says, looking at me.

I turn towards Klaus, who looks annoyed, and I kiss his face softly, “Get me a drink?”

Klaus rolls his eyes but still makes his way towards the refreshments table. 

“Hmm, maybe Caroline was right.”

Elijah takes my hand in mine and swings me, the music having a faster pace now.

“Right about what, My Love?”

I look at him and shake my head, “Oh, nothing.”

“You wouldn't be hiding something from me, would you,” Elijah smirks as he spins me so my back is pressed to his front and he sways us. 

“And if I were?”

Elijah leans down so our lips are mere millimeters away, “Then I’d have to find a way to get that secret out of you, wouldn’t I?”

I giggle at his words and then let out a louder laugh as he grabs under my arms and swings me on either side of him, my legs flying in the air. 

He sets me back on the ground as I laugh, “Now I’m starting to wonder what you were doing during the 20s.”

Elijah places a chaste kiss on my lips, “If you can have your secrets, My Dear, then so shall I?’’

The song comes to an end after another minute, and Elijah leads me over to Klaus, who is standing with a scowl, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. He hands me a cup of punch, and I smile at him. 

“Enjoying yourself,” I ask him.

“Not as much as our brothers,” Klaus nods forward, and I look to see Theo, Jeremy, and Kol all dancing off beat to some newer age song. 

“That’s unsettling.”

Klaus and Elijah both hum in agreement. 

“Ugh, Y/n?”

I turn to see Elena approach all three of us cautiously. 

“Hey, Elena.”

Elena seems to be relieved that I’m actually speaking to her, “Could we talk?”

I look towards Klaus and Elijah, who watch Elena skeptically.

“Ya,” I walk towards her and feel both brothers follow me.

“Give us a minute alone,” I say to them, and they both look stressed about the idea of leaving me alone with someone in the Scooby gang, but they still let me go with Elena out to the hallway. 

Elena and I made it to a small bench in the hallway and we watch some students walk by as we sit together in silence. 

“I missed you. I mean… I miss you.”

Elena’s words make me frown, “Continue.”

“I know I shouldn’t have pushed you away, I was…I was just scared I was going to lose you, too. I promise it had nothing to do with Klaus being your soulmate. Yes, I hate the man, but that doesn’t mean I hate you. I could never. Lately, I’ve been so self-centered with the Salvatore brothers and everything that’s going on that I didn’t even think to see how you were doing with everything, and I’m sorry. I wish we could just go back to it just being us and our little book club,” Elena sadly laughs.

I watch a clearly drunk girl be held up by two of her friends as they walk by us, “That feels like another lifetime ago.”

“It doesn’t have to be, though,” I turn to Elena at her words, “I promise from here on out I’ll be a better friend to you. No secrets between us. If I know something, you’ll know it too. I swear…just please give me another chance?”

I’m really just forgiving everyone today, aren’t I? Who am I the fucking Pope?

“Fine…but only on one condition,” I tell her, and she nods her head so fast I think it might shake off, “No more plotting behind my back. I don’t want to break the soul bond, so tell Bonnie to stop looking.”

Elena pauses for a second but then nods her head, “If that's what it takes, then ok, I’ll tell her.”

We sit there for another moment, but I can see Elena practically buzzing with energy.

“So we’re good,” She asks.

“We’re on probation.”

Elena lets out a small squeal and pulls me into a tight hug, “Can we have a sleepover tonight? We have a lot ot talk about?”

“Uh, ya ok. I’m sure Jeremy and Theo will be having a sleepover too since he’s back in town.”

Elena's smile gets bigger, if possible, at the mention of her brother, “Ya, Jeremy was talking about how excited he was to see Theo the entire way bringing him home.”

I groan, “Ugh, tell me about it. As soon as Theo got the call from Jeremy telling him he was coming home, he literally squealed and ran into my room, hopping on my bed like a kid on Christmas morning.”

“If they were anyone else, I’d think they were in love with each other,” Elena jokes, and I laugh.

She laughs.

Then we both stop laughing. 

Wait. 

Oh. 

They couldn’t…

“They’re not…”

“I mean…”

Elena and I both sit in silence and stare forward as we think. 

We both turn back to each other, and I open my mouth and then close it. She does the same. 

“Let’s put this conversation on the back burner,” Elena says as she sees Damon and Stefan approach us.

“Definitely.”

Damon and Stefan approach us, and Stefan gives me a smile, to which I ignore.

“I’ll be leaving now.”

I got to leave, but Elena grabs my hand, “Nope. No things from you. Whatever they want to say to me, they can say in front of you.”

“Fine by me,” Damon says and then turns to me and gives me a small smile, “Hey Pukey.”

“Die in a hole.”

Stefan snorts out a laugh, and Elena clears her throat. 

“What's going on, Stefan?”

—-

So remember when I said I had a feeling something was going to go wrong, and everyone told me to chill out? Ya. Guess who was right?!

So, from what the squirrel eater was saying was basically that Alaric is a serial killer, but it’s not technically him since he’s being possessed by his evil self that he now has because of the ring that brought him back from the dead too many times. And now his evil self is fully in control, and he’s not taking the herbs Bonnie made him to get rid of his evil self. 

Cool.

 “Why don’t we get him off vervain and compel him,” Stefan suggests.

“To do what, pretend to be Alaric? The guy that we know is gone,” Damon says, “We’re talking about someone who not only hates vampires but vampire sympathizers, which makes one of his targets, oh, I don’t know, you two?”

Elena and I eye each other. He’s not wrong. 

“What? You think he’d go after Elena and Y/n?”

“Just another Tuesday,” I say to myself casually. 

“So wait. What are you suggesting we do?”

Damon looks at Elena, “I’m suggesting we put him out of his misery.”

I laugh, “Of course you suggest killing your only friend.”

“What!”

“No way in hell,” A loud voice comes from behind us, and I turn to see Jeremy.

“Oh, come on,” Damon looks at the boy, “It’s what he would want. It’s a mercy killing.”

“You are out of your mind.”

Elena takes a step towards her brother, and he stops her, “Jeremy..”

And the next thing I know, Elena’s dragging me down the hall after her brother. Now that she’s got me back, I’m really starting to doubt she’s going to let me go anytime soon. 

—

“Jeremy, stop!”

Elena and I follow Jeremy outside. 

“This is Alaric we’re talking about. He looked out for us, and we need to do the same for him.”

Elena shakes her head, “No one is going to hurt him.”

Jeremy scoffs and begins walking away. Elena follows him.

“Hey, look at me. I promise.”

“Elena.”

Oh I know that fuckass British voice.

Esther, mind you, a supposed to be dead, Esther stands before us.

“Oh no way in fucking hell. You were dead!”

“I was brought back, hello Y/n.”

“Elena, if you wish to help your friend Alaric, I suggest you come with me.”

“Jeremy, go inside and take Y/n. Go get Stefan and Damon now,” Elena tells her brother.

Jeremy goes to grab me but I shake my head, “Someone needs to stay with Elena and I’m not letting that bitch out of my sight,” I point to Esther who side eyes me, “Go get Elijah and Klaus.”

It might just be me, but I think my vampires would fare better in this fight than Elena’s. 

Jeremy leaves us, and I go to stand next to Elena, who grabs my hand in hers. Old habits die hard, I guess. 

“I mean you no harm,” Esther tells Elena.

I snort, “Funny how she doesn’t say that to me. Wonder why,” I raise an eyebrow at the witch.

“I apologize for my actions in causing you harm, My Dear. I’ve had time on the other side to think over my ways, and I realize now that what I did was wrong. You are nothing but a victim of fate.”

Forget Elijah, I’m going to rip this lying bitch’s head off myself. 

“You will come with me, Elena.”

With that the bitch turns around and starts walking. Elena looks at me and then starts following her. I grab her hand, stopping her.

“What the hell are you thinking?”

“It’s Ric, Y/n. I have to. You stay here, I’ve got this.”

Elena pulls her hand away and follows after Esther. I watch them for a moment before letting out a loud groan and running after them. 

A machete would come in real handy right now. 

—-

“You’ll forgive me for taking you from the dance this evening, ” Esther says as she leads Elena and me through a dark cemetery, “That’s the burden of being the doppleganger, I’m afraid. Your blood is a potent binding agent for a witch’s spell.”

I roll my eyes at her words. 

“Please just don’t hurt Alaric,” Elena begs.

“She’s not hurting me.”

I look forward and see Alaric come out from behind a tree. Very dramatic. 

Elena goes towards him with a smile on her face, but I stop her as I look at the cold glint in Ric’s eyes. 

“What’s going on? What are you doing with him?”

“I’m going to remake him.”

“Excuse me?”

“Make him strong, fast, like my children,” Esther gazes at me as she says that, “Indestructible. For one final time, I’m going to tap into the dark magic I used a thousand years ago. Like my husband Mikael before him, I will make Alaric into a true hunter, the vampire to end all vampires.”

“You can’t create another original. What if he turns out to be a bigger monster than your children?”

“He won’t. Now that he’s embraced his darkest aspect. His hatred for them will become more pure and uncompromising. In death, that hatred will be magnified.”

“You really are a crazy bitch,” I shake my head at her amazed.

“You don’t know anything about him,” Elena tells her.

“That is where you’re wrong. Each time he died with that ring during his brief journey into death, I was there on the other side. I spoke to him. I nurtured him, knowing that every death brought him closer to his true self. Vampires took everything from him. Now he’s getting his vengeance.”

“So you’re basically saying you groomed him? I knew you were evil, Esther, but that has got to be a new low even for you,” I glare at her, and she shakes her head at me. 

“My child-”

“I am not your child,” I growl at her and release harsh breaths through my nose, trying to calm myself.

“You defend my children, but you have only known them for a split second of their millennium. They have lived 10 lifetimes more than I don’t blame you for falling for their charms.”

I let out a sick laugh, “You know nothing about me.”

“I know what the birthmark on your shoulder means.”

My eyes narrow.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Confusion clouds Esther’s eyes for a moment before a look of sorrow comes over her face, “You defend my children, and yet they hide from you who you truly are.”

“Once again, what the hell are you talking about, Esther?”

“That birthmark on your shoulder isn’t just a coincidence, My Dear. No, it has a long history of bloodshed and misery that comes with it. My children know what it means, and yet they haven’t told you.”

“So why don’t you tell me right now,” I challenge her.

“You’re a monster bound to the moon, My Child.” 

—- 

Elena has just stuck a stake through Alaric’s heart, and yet I can’t feel anything. I’ve been staring at the stone wall in front of me for the past 10 minutes since Esther just dropped a bomb on me.

“Monster bound to the moon.”

A wolf. 

Maybe she was lying. Maybe this is some kind of psychological warfare. Maybe she's…

“Y/n, someone's here,” Elena pushes me u,p and I feel myself stand up and follow her, my mind is still buzzing and I’m not really sure what is going on, but I watch as Matt and Jeremy stand before us with bows. 

Esther says something to them, but I’m so out of it that I notice the shift when they both pull their weapons on to one another through Esther’s control. 

“Esther, stop!’”

Elena’s yells are interrupted but a gasp from Esther, and I turn to see Alaric stab her right in the back.

—-

“How many times will we have to deal with our mother’s dead body?”

I look up from my seated position on the dirty ground to see Kol, Elijah, Klaus, Theo, and the Salvatore brothers, all staring down at Esther’s dead body. 

Theo’s eyes meet mine, and he instantly runs over to me and kneels in front of me, “Y/n, are you ok? What happened,” He places his hands on the side of my face, checking me over for injuries, “I swear, if that witch did anything to you, I’ll find a way to bring her back to life just so I can kill her myself. 

Elijah and Klaus both stand behind my brother now, both assessing me.

“Elskan?’”

“Luv, tell us what’s wrong?”

“Did you know?”

Both of them frown in confusion, and Kol joins us.

“Know what, Luv?”

“Did you know what my birthmark means,” I finally look up at them to gauge their reactions, and even though they’ve had a thousand years on me, I can still read them clearly. 

They knew. 

Elijah sighs deeply, “Y/n, I swear-”

“Go.”

“Elskan, please…”

I stand up so fast that Theo almost falls over; thankfully, Kol grabs him and helps him stand up. 

“I said, go, Elijah! I don’t want to see either of you! Grab your deaad mother and leave me the fuck alone,” I snarl in anger at them and Elijah and Klaus both have looks of hurt on their faces. Good. 

Klaus steps forward, but Theo quickly stands in front of him, blocking me from his sight. 

“She said leave, Klaus,” Theo’s words come out strong. 

Jeremy, who was standing next to Elena, comes to stand next to my brother, blocking Elijah from seeing me. 

“You heard the lady, brothers,” Kol steps in between Theo and Klaus, “You grab mommy dearest, and I’ll make sure everyone gets home nice and safe.”

I don’t see them, but I hear a low growl and then footsteps. I peek around Theo and see Klaus pick up Esther’s body, and both brothers leave the graveyard. 

“Thanks,” I choke out, and Theo instantly turns back to me.

He wipes a stray tear from my face and pulls me into a tight hug, “Stop getting kidnapped, please. You’re giving me wrinkles.”

I pull away from Theo and smile at Jeremy, who nods and then walks over to Alaric. 

“Did you know,” I ask Kol.

Kol gives me a look, “Not a clue what birthmark you’re talking about, Doll. But if you want to show me,” He smirks, and Theo punches him in the shoulder.

—-

The next hour consists of everyone saying their goodbyes to Ric, who decided not to complete the transition and to let himself die. Everyone here is filled with sorrow and has tears in their eyes, well… except for Kol. Kol looks clearly uncomfortable at the emotions being thrown around and clearly just wants to go home. 

Jenna exits the tombstone with a sob, and I hold out my arms for her, and she dives into me. I feel her tears coat my shoulder as I shush her. 

“I’ve got you, Jen. I’ve got you.” 

Theo stands next to Jeremy with a hand on his shoulder, Bonnie, Caroline, Tyler, and Matt all stand together, and Elena walks out of the tomb next, and I don’t even have to say anything because she’s already diving into my arms. She and Jenna both cry into my shoulders for another moment before Jenna leans back to look at me.

“Do you want to…”

I don’t say anything but just nod, leaving both women to console one another.

I walk into the tomb to see a ghostly-looking Ric sitting against the wall. He notices me and gives me a painful smile. 

“Hey, Kiddo.”

“Heya, Ric.”

I sit across from him in silence. 

“Are you scared?”

Ric looks at me for a moment, “I’ve already died like a thousand times, what’s one more?”

“I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Kiddo,” Ric tells me with tear-filled eyes, “You just stay you, alright? Don’t let any of this supernatural stuff ruin you like it did me. You’re too good. You, Theo, Elena, and Jeremy look out for each other, alright? You guys need each other.”

I release a shaking breath, “Will do. And I’m sorry I never turned in my paper on the Industrial Revolution,” I try to joke, but my tears just make it even sadder.

Ric laughs, though, so it was worth it. 

“No problem, Kid. I’m sure it would’ve been brilliant.”

I stand up and give him one last look before walking to the door.

“Y/n?”

I turn around. “It was a pleasure to meet such a bright mind like yours. You will always be my best student.”

I give him a sad smile, “You were a pretty good teacher yourself, Ric.”

—-

Theo, Jenna, and both Gilbert siblings walk in front of me as we enter the Gilbert household. Kol walks beside me, keeping his word on making sure everyone got home safe. 

“Alright, I’m done here.”

I look at Kol and give him a smile, “Thank you, Kol.”

Kol eyes me for a second before shrugging, “Just keeping up with our deal, Doll.”

I give him a look, “Ya…sure.”

He rolls his eyes and runs off without another word. The cold wind brushes through my hair, and my gaze makes its way up towards the star-filled sky. My eyes lock onto the daunting crescent moon in the sky, and a sick feeling washes over me. 

“Y/n?”

I turn towards the front door, where Elena is standing with her hand held out for me, then give one last glance at the moon, and then turn back to my friend.

“I’m coming, Lena.”

[valleydolli]

Only You | Chapter Three

CW 𝜗𝜚 MDNI, Stalking, Obsessiveness, Controlling Behaviour, Love Bombing, Murder, Fluff, Kidnapping, Smut, Toxic Sukuna, Yandere Sukuna? Readers a sweetie, (Touch her you die… like actually…) Chapter Warning! Murder & SA!

𝜗𝜚 Series Masterlist

𝜗𝜚 Chapter Two | Chapter Four

𝜗𝜚 WC: 3.8k

“Ren.” What a stupid name, Sukuna thinks. Stupid name for a stupid guy. He’s been waiting outside the bar, Ren’s waiting for you him at. He spotted him instantly. He's inside drinking an absurd amount of beer. Who the fuck drinks that much before a damn date. What a sick cunt. He can’t imagine what he’d do to you if it were you here. But of course you’re not here, Sukuna’s here to teach this piece of shit a lesson. He can’t be trusted around you, ever. Or any woman, for that matter.

It’s been 30 minutes since you he was supposed to arrive. Surely he leaves soon, clearly you’re a no-show, so what’s he waiting for?

After 10 long minutes, Ren puts some cash on his table and stumbles his way out of the bar. Seeing him like this, he almost feels sorry for him…

Almost.

Sukuna pulls his hood up and begins following the pathetic drunk.

Ren turns a corner?

Sukuna turns the same corner.

He turns around?

Sukuna’s nowhere to be seen.

He’s completely and utterly unaware.

And almost as if he wants to die in a cliche way, Ren stumbles down a dark, long alleyway, grasping onto the walls to steady his balance.

Idiot.

Does he know he's being followed, or is he that clueless?

Sukuna carefully closes in on Ren, wrapping a strong arm around his neck trapping him into a headlock.

Rens' arms flail around, trying to escape somehow.

He won’t.

He’s not making it out alive.

Though it would be one hell of a story to tell… if he survived.

“Stop struggling,” Sukuna spits, before tightening the heavy arm wrapped around Ren’s neck and hearing the sound of him struggling to breathe.

It fuels him.

He likes it.

He likes hearing him struggle.

He likes hearing the leather of his jacket rub against his neck. It’s so… satisfying. He wishes you could see. See what he’s doing for you. If only you knew what he was doing to protect you, you’d be grateful.

He's blue in the face at this point. Eyes bulging, spit rolling down his chin. He was disgusting alive, and he's going to be even more disgusting dead. Sukuna let Ren’s body fall to the ground with a thud.

He isn’t remotely close to being done with him.

“P-please,” he struggles to say. He’s choking while making a pathetic attempt at crawling away.

“No, no, don’t beg me, I hate that,” Sukuna mutters as he closes in on Ren. He straddles him from behind flipping him over to face him.

“You remember my face,” he cockily smirks, as he points at his manic face. He loves this. He loves being in control, inducing fear into others.

His pupils are large as if he’s high.

He looks fucking insane.

“I-I don’t remember,” Of course the cunt doesn’t remember, he was too busy eye fucking you.

So, Sukuna pulls his phone out from his back pocket and loads footage from the cameras he set up in your apartment. You’re eating the rest of your dinner alone. Fuck, he wishes he didnt have to be here. He should be with you, keeping you company. God, you’re so adorable. “Look at her, my girl, my angel. She’s divine, right?” He admires. “I know you agree Ren. She tells me you love giving her your upmost attention when she’s at your store.”

Ren's eyes widened.

“What the fuck,” Ren whispers. “Your girl? She said she was single,” he points out.

That’s all he got from that?

Sukuna sighs.

He starts to beat into Ren face.

Bloody.

He won’t stop. Why would he?

This is for you. With him gone, you’ll be safe. Easier to protect.

His face is deformed from the heavy punches Sukuna is throwing at his face.

All for you.

He continues this attack for 20 minutes. For 20 minutes, he repeatedly caved his fists into his face.

He’s been dead for 10.

He looks straight out of a horror movie.

There's blood everywhere. His hands, his clothes, his face.

And he's completely unfazed. This isn’t the first time he's beaten someone bloody, or he's seen a dead body, and it certainly won’t be his last. But it is the first time he's beaten someone bloody and killed them.

Shit.

He needs to get rid of the body.

Fuck.

Toji.

He frantically pats around his body, looking for his phone. It's still open the cameras in your place.

You’re painting now. You look so happy.

He smiles to himself, kissing his phone as if it were your physical body.

He stumbles, leaning against the closest wall, dialing Toji’s number.

He answers after 4 rings.

“I killed someone.” He opens the conversation.

The other end is silent. Toji’s never silent. His mouth never stops running.

But this? This was a kicker.

“I-I'm sorry, you did what?”

“I killed a guy.”

Toji is again speechless; all Sukuna can hear is his heavy breaths.

“Help me. I need to get rid of the body. I’m down the alleyway by Fifth Avenue, the one that leads into town.”

“‘m on my way,” he mutters before ending the call.

He pulls on Rens' corpse, pulling him into a corner in case a poor soul walks down the alley. His blood was smearing onto the concrete. And he still regrets nothing. Men like him are the scum of the world and he’s just clearing them out. He won't be missed one bit.

Toji makes it to Sukuna within five minutes. Lucky for him, no one made their way down the alleyway running into the morbid crime scene.

“Jesus, it looks like you bathed in him,” he jokes. Only to find Sukuna scowling at him.

Together, they wrap the body in a tarp and tape, throwing him in the back of the van, Toji drove to him. These streets are quiet, empty. Resembling a ghost town. No one could have saved him. He was dead the moment he turned his last corner.

“So… what’d he do to you?” Toji asks Sukuna.

Picking at his cut-up knuckles, he mutters a “Nothing.”

Toji quickly turns to him. “The fuck do you mean nothing? Did you see that guy's face?”

“He’s been bothering someone I know. Did it for her.”

“For her? Oh, don't tell me–”

Sukuna cuts him off immediately, “I’m not telling you shit Toji, stop interrogating me.”

Sukuna and Toji continue their car ride in silence, pulling into a forest. Burning Rens’ body, taking his phone, his wallet, and house keys. He’s burnt down to nothing.

Just bones.

He needs to text his manager saying he’s quit. And his parents? He could forge a letter saying he’s leaving the country?

Fuck, he didn’t think this far ahead.

“Calm down, I’ll sort everything else out,” Toji reassures.

This is why Sukuna tolerates Toji. He fixes every single one of his messes.

All of them. And he appreciates that. Highly.

“Let’s go.”

~~~

You haven’t heard from Sukuna since Monday... Once Wednesday rolled by, you were hoping he would show up to pick up Yuji, but to your surprise, it was Jin. You told Jin about how you and Sukuna met and asked him if he had heard from him; he also hadn’t heard from his twin.

You’ve only known each other for 5 days, but you feel so connected to him, so comfortable with him. You’ve practically been blowing up his phone, but still, nothing.

Though eventually, he does respond to you, apologising and rescheduling your date for the next Saturday.

You’ve been whining about Sukuna to your best friend, Himeko. She’s already quick to tell you how much she hates him. Mind you, she’s never met him. She has no right to say she hates him, but you get that his ghosting you after dinner isn’t a good look.

“I just don’t think you should be so hung up on a guy you just met? You’re beautiful, someone else is bound to ask you out on a date again.” Himiko says.

“We should go clubbing this weekend, replace your date night, and take your mind off of him. Find a hot hook up,” she sings.

She’s right.

5 days and you’re sulking over some guy?

Some sexy, tall charmin— oh god.

“Okay, you’re right, we should go out,” you murmur shyly.

Himiko squeals, hugging you tightly.

~~~

Who the fuck is that?

Sukuna has been ignoring you, yes, but he hasn’t missed a second watching you. And this Himiko bitch that’s been giving him a bad name, convincing you to hookup with a guy at a club. A club?! And you agreed? Don’t you have Uni assignments? Work. Literally anything that’ll keep you from going clubbing?

He hasn’t been free since killing Ren. There’s so much he and Toji have had to do since. This is all for you. You’re selfish. You have no clue what he's done for you already.

That Himikos’ a bad influence on you. He needs her to back off.

He needs to call you.

He watches you show your friend him calling you, and her almost ending it. But you quickly snatch your phone back and answer the call.

You don’t say anything for a moment before whispering a small, “hello.”

“Hey, beautiful,” Sukuna quickly replied.

“Hi, Sukuna.”

“Listen angel, I’m sorry I’ve been MIA, work has been kicking my ass.”

Liar.

Work has been a damn breeze.

“And I’m sorry for cancelling our date. I just wanted you to have all of my attention. And with what I do, a lot happens. So my mind is elsewhere, Yano?”

“Yeah, I understand Kuna.”

‘Kuna.’

He hopes you’ll call him that more often.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you, okay?”

“Mhm okay,” you’re curled up in a ball, blushing right now. He’s happy to see that he has the same effect you have on him. Your friend, on the other hand, is scowling at you, crossing her arms like an angry toddler.

Jealous bitch.

“You’ll see me soon.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Kuna,” you purr.

God.

You minx.

As soon as the conversation ended, Sukuna immediately knew which club you would be attending, a “friend” of his owns it. And you've posted yourself at the club countless times, in a mini skintight dress, pristine makeup.

You outdo yourself.

But why? Who are you trying to impress? Your followers? Someone at the club? No, you’re not like that.

You like to be seen, but only by the right people…

No, the right person!

Like. Him.

And he sees you. Truly, he does.

~~~

The atmosphere is vibrant, although you’ve gotten confirmation that Sukuna, in fact, does not hate you. You still felt like you should go out for a change. Have fun. You haven't been able to have “fun” since juggling work and school. You've been exhausted. So, tonight, you're not here to find someone to sleep with, you're here just to have fun.

While you’re standing in the queue waiting to get in, Sukuna is right across the street watching you. Himiko, too, he guesses. But most importantly, you. He sees guys trying to get your number, and your friend shooing them away. He kinda likes her now. Keeping her safe when he’s not around to do it himself.

He waits patiently for you and your friend to make it inside before pulling down his cap and making his way to the line, cutting in front of every drunk there. Hearing angry, “Heys,” “Excuse yous,” before turning to the angry mob, showing his detective badge and them immediately shutting the fuck up. Man, he loves it.

He spots you instantly at the bar getting four shots of tequila rose.

Cute.

Sukuna makes sure to stay out of your sight for now. Which is hard since he sticks out like a sore thumb, towering over every person he has ever come across. So he makes his way into said club owner's office.

Kenjaku.

They’ve been… acquaintances, for years now, but he doesn’t fully trust him; he’s just someone convenient to have around. Like right now, for example. Because they’re… familiar with one another, he can look at the security footage of you!

See? Perfect frien– companionship…

“So… who are you looking for?” Kenjaku questions. Sukuna slowly turns his head to Kenjaku and stares.

Just stares.

No words.

“Okay, well, have fun?” He says before leaving his office for Sukuna.

He spots you dancing after flipping through the channels. Smack bang in the centre of the dance floor. It’s been 30 minutes, and you’re already drunk.

A lightweight.

You shouldn't drink if you can't handle it. There are guys surrounding you like you’re a piece of meat, and you’re completely unaware. Everyone wants you.

How are you so painfully unaware of how perfect you are?

But wait.

Where’s Himiko?

He flips through the cameras searching for your so-called “best friend,” finding her in some corner out back getting…

Whore.

Who leaves their best friend alone in a club?

To be fair, you still haven’t noticed she’s missing. Of course, you wouldn’t, you’re completely surrounded, swaying your hips to the beat of the song. He wishes he were standing behind you, holding onto your hips, grinding you on his crotch, making you feel it grow.

He’s too impatient.

How long does he have to wait to make you his?

Surely a week is enough time, right?

For him, it is, but what about you?

Once the song ended, you stumble your way to the toilets, pulling your phone out from your purse, ready to call Himiko, but little did you know, someone who was watching you from afar was trailing behind you too. You're too focused on your phone, you haven’t noticed.

~~~

“Pick up already,” you whispered to your phone. You’ve lost Himiko. She was next to you dancing for one second, then just disappeared into thin air in another. Without a trace. She’s so annoying sometimes. Who leaves their friend alone in a club?

All of a sudden, you hear a deep, unsettling voice pull you out of your thoughts, “hey, you.”

You turn quickly, spotting a man behind you. An older man, maybe in his 40s. And he’s approaching you.

“Can I help you?” You slur.

“I saw you dancing… you’re a sexy thing, huh?” He licks his lips and rubs at his crotch.

“Fuck off you creep,” you say in disgust before making your way past him. Only for him to tightly grasp your arm, pulling you into the toilets and pinning you against the wall.

He leans in closely. The stench of beer lingered in his breath.

“If you don’t like the attention, why dance and dress like a whore, hmm? I’m giving you the attention you wanted.”

Your eyes are squeezed shut, you can’t look at him, you can’t breathe. What can you do in a situation like this? Scream? The music is too loud. Call the police? He can snatch your phone in a heartbeat.

You’re fucked.

“Please leave me alone,” you whisper.

“I don’t think I will.”

All your body can do is sob. You wish you had stayed at home. Maybe finished some of your assignments. Finish the book you were reading when you met Sukuna. You wish you were on your date with Sukuna. If you were. You would have never been in this situation in the first place. You wish Himiko didn’t ditch you to God knows where.

You feel stupid.

Then, as if universe sent you your saviour, the door of the toilets you’ve been held captive in abruptly swings open, slamming into the wall, almost denting it.

“Hey, what’s your fuc—”

Within seconds, the older man is off of you. Being pinned against the wall. By a bigger man, an extremely large man. You begin to squint your eyes, trying to distinguish your hero.

“Sukuna?”

He’s staring at the man, he’s thinking. Thinking about how he wants to handle this in front of you. You can’t see him beat the shit out of someone. But he can’t let this bastard go scot free. But he also can’t leave you right now.

“Get out. But don’t think for a second that I won’t find you again. I never forget a face, especially one as vile as yours.” He slyly whispered into his ear.

~~~

“Breathe, angel, come on, it’s okay,” he reassures.

He’s tightly holding you close to him while you sob into his shirt. “I’m here, I’ve gotchu.”

“What’re you doing here?” You ask through hiccups.

“W-work… I was working.”

Liar.

“Where’s Himiko?”

“I was with her just 20 minutes, but she left me, and she won’t answer my phone calls. I’m worried about her.”

How can you be worried about a bitch that left you alone in a club filled with drunk degenerates.

You’re too kind for your own good.

“Wait, how do you know Himiko?”

Shit.

“You just said her name, you’ve told me about her too. Come on let’s get you home.” Sukuna quickly changes the conversation.

“I don’t wanna go home, Sukuna. I don’t want to be alone.” you frantically reply.

“You can come back to my place? Freshen up?”

Say yes.

Say yes.

You sniffle and look up at him with red doe eyes, nodding your head.

“Yes please,” you whisper softly.

Sukuna takes off his jacket, wrapping it over your shoulders.

Leading you out of the toilets.

He starts to think what if he didn’t have cameras in your place. Listening in on every aspect of your life. What if he didn’t find your socials? How would he have found out where you were? Keeping an eye on you has saved you. Twice! If he didn't take you and Yuji to Kaspas, he wouldn't have been able to stop Ren’s harassment.

Him keeping a close eye on you is helping you. He is helping you.

In just one week, he’s done so much for you. And he can do so much more.

As long as you’re safe.

As long as you’re happy.

As long as he’s by your side.

~~~

You walk out of the club hand in hand with Sukuna.

He saved you. You feel as if you owe him your life.

“My car is just over there,” he points out.

Before you make it to his car, you hear someone yelling your name.

It’s Himiko.

She’s also hand in hand with some guy walking towards you.

So that's where she was, you thought. You’re not surprised, more so, disappointed. If she were still with you, maybe you would have felt safer. But she left you for some guy… What a great friend.

You immediately cut her off when she starts to speak again.

“Don’t. Please, I just… I really do not want to see you right now.” You sigh.

“I’m going home with Sukuna, I’ll let you get your stuff from my place when I come back.”

Himiko begins to pull a displeased face. “You’re going home with him? The same one that ghosted you after your first ‘date,’” She quickly spews.

You close your eyes, taking a deep breath. You really can’t deal with one of her tantrums right now. She needs to understand, she’s in the wrong.

“Goodnight, Himiko.” You say as you sit down in Sukuna's car.

She’s standing on the pavement, jaw wide open, shocked at the fact you won’t speak to her. She’s used to getting her way with you, but for once, you’ve put your foot down and you’re proud of yourself.

“You okay?” Sukuna asks, rubbing your thigh to comfort you. You jump slightly.

“I’m sorry,” he immediately apologises, moving his hand away.

“No, it’s fine!” You grab his hand, holding it tightly. His thumb is brushing against your hand in an attempt to soothe your nerves.

You’re both screaming on the inside. It feels nice to have him comfort you.

“Listen, I don’t wanna intrude on your friendship, but I don’t think that girl is a good person.”

“Himiko? No, she… she just has her bad moments,” you smile.

You’re always defending her. Even when you know she’s in the wrong, you’ll defend her with your life. But does she do the same for you?

Sukuna nods his head and mutters a slight “alright,” before pulling out of his parking space.

The car ride was silent, but a comfortable one. You haven’t felt awkward around him once.

His apartment was a short drive from the club, so you’re quickly able to get inside Sukuna’s penthouse and freshen up. It’s gorgeous. He clearly gets paid well. Everything is so darkly coloured in comparison to your lightly coloured place.

You’re both the complete opposite of one another. You wonder how you’ve been getting on so well.

“Come, the bathrooms in my bedroom, over here.” He leads you towards his bathroom, telling you he’ll wait for you downstairs, pressing a kiss on the top of your head.

He’s so gentle with you.

A knight in shining armour.

~~~

“Sukuna?” You’re slowly walking into his view wearing the shirt he gave you, taking a seat at his kitchen island.

“Hey, I made you something to eat. Just a sandwich and some chamomile tea. The tea will help with the hangover.” He tells you. You smile and thank him for his generosity.

“You’re really sweet, Sukuna. I owe you my life, truly.”

Your life? You owe your life… to him?

He softly smiles at the thought of you giving him your life.

Hypothetically, of course, but Sukuna is too delusional to see it that way.

“I can take you home whenever—.”

“No.” You quickly cut him off. “I mean, I just. Could I maybe stay here? I really don’t want to be all alone right now.”

Thank you, God.

“Of course, doll. When you’re finished, you can take my bed, I’ll stay in my guest room.” Oh, how it pains Sukuna not to sleep in the same bed as you. Maybe he could slip in while you’re sleeping, just to see you in such a peaceful state for a second, just one.

“I can’t take your bed, I’ll take the guest room, really. You’ve already done enough for me.

More than you know, angel.

“I really don’t mind, seriously.”

You look down at your hands, agreeing to take his bedroom. He then leaves you to finish your food while he also showers and heads to bed.

An hour after the two of you parted ways for the night, Sukuna hears slight shuffling out in the corridors. He jumps out of bed to open the door just to find you.

“What’re you doing?” Sukuna questions. You look like a toddler who’s about to be scolded.

“I um… I can’t sleep. Can I stay with you? Please.”

He can’t speak. He’s just opened his mouth to say yes but there’s no damn words. You make him feel like a damn idiot sometimes.

“Um, I shouldn’t have asked, ‘m sorry.”

“NO— fuck sorry, no. You—”

Breathe Sukuna.

“You can stay. In here. With me.”

Jesus Christ.

“Thank you.” You smile and slither past him, jumping into the bed.

He’s quite literally dying inside right now.

He has to be dreaming, right?

“Sukuna.”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you. Really. I just can’t imagine what would have happened to me if you weren’t with me,” you sniffle.

“You saved me.”

He did save you. That’s what he’s here for. He’s said this already; his sole purpose is to protect you. And only you.

There’s not a line in this world that he wouldn’t cross.

For you.

His angel.

His damsel.

He pulls you in, placing his chin on the crown of your head, “I swear, I’ll do anything for you. Anything.”

𝜗𝜚 a/n: I’ve never written this much before 😩 I hope I can make all the chapters this long but I did find myself stuck at some points. I hope it’s not noticeable in here and I hope I did good enough! Also Sukuna will be seeing that creep again… for revenge… mwahahaha :3

𝜗𝜚 Chapter Two… | Chapter Four…

[eraserbread]

nobody knows your friend with benefits, suguru, like you do ✧

your best friend is a neat freak, yet insists on holding each get-together at his apartment. he supplies the beer, you supply the wine. he asked you what takeout he should order for you all, and bought the one thing you suggested.

and when the party's over and the tables are littered with trash, you shrug off the few of your friends. they're leaving, but you would stay just to help sugu clean up a bit.

that's where you are now, twisting that digital lock slowly. you can hear suguru clinking plates behind you, gathering them in a pile when you turn around.

"...llllocked." you whisper, posing in the doorway with your knees crossed under your short, casual dress. you couldn't help yourself -- he was slung comfortably in baggy sweatpants and a cut shirt, thick arms visible all night. he made you crazy.

"thank you very much," he starts, walking with his pile of plates to the kitchen. he passes you, adding, "...gorgeous girl."

"so, now you definitely have to bend me over that counter."

"I will, I will." his voice is so soft, consistently smooth, and sweet when he talks to you. though you can only see his back as the sink water rushes, you're enamored by the most minor things—the length of his hair across his shoulder, the curve of his waist, the shape of his arms. "all in due time, cutie."

you wait patiently for him to wash that first round of dishes, and when he does, he looks over his shoulder and tells you. "you're grinning at me sooo wide, right now."

"mm... i just want you real bad." you're biting that grin down, fingers tangling behind your back. when he dries his hands and walks over to you, your stomach falls into your ass. you can't explain this feeling -- this need to be with him and perform just for him.

"and you know i adore that dress on you." suguru's holding a hand out for you, gaze shadowed and pure against the dim lights. your grin widens as you take it, and he's showing you off to his private audience, spinning you all around the room until you land in his arms.

"stop it." you're mumbling into a kiss he takes you in, long arms crossed against the small of your waist. he holds you so gently, grinding the softness of his crotch forward into you.

you hold your arms around his neck, reveling in the loving attention. his kiss is just as soft as his touch as it snakes down your back, grabbing handfuls of your ass in each hand. you gasp.

"alright, lets get you taken care of."

you're reeling, squeezing your eyes shut as tears leak through. you weren't expecting this fervor tonight, but suguru wanted you pinned on your hands and knees, two fingers deep inside your aching cunt.

the way he has you... hooked and vulnerable, is so lewd. so unabashedly pouring arousal against his thick palm. at your side, he's hovering over you with a knee pressed to the mattress, lips working at your ear. shockwaves wrack your body.

"oh, fuck that's good." you're whining, whispering heady versions of his name into his lips when he kisses you. "please, 'm so close."

"yes, come on. cum for me -- there's my girl... yes." he's talking you through it, fucking you over from raw intrusion alone. you can't help but make it easier for him, the attraction is just so palpable. you could glance at him platonically and be dripping wet, halfway to release.

when you cum, shivering around his fingers, suguru lets up just hardly, using his free hand to push your face into his. he thinks he is a selfish lover -- always needing your skin on his, especially when you're halfway out of your mind. he loves kissing you, but can't deny the fact that he loves being inside of you more.

all the strength is sucked from your bones when he mounts you from behind. thick sweatpants disregarded somewhere in the room, his cock is hungry for you, leaking and inflamed in his thick palm.

when he finally pushes inside of you, your arms collapse, rendering you face-down, ass-up against his pristine sheets. it makes him crazy -- lips cherry-red from biting them down, and your weeping hole is feeling the worst of it as he fucks you.

it's delicate at first, as is everything about him, then turns into sinful slaps of skin, deafening your senses. suguru's stretching you in that way only he can, assaulting that warm, sweet spot inside you with every upward hit.

you're left scrambling, fingers digging in the sheets, needing any and every kind of mercy to rush over your feverish skin. suguru snaps up both of your wrists, pinning them at your back when you're cumming for the second time.

you're riddled with insane aftershocks, coming down, full to the brim with your best friends pearly seed, and fucked off of visions of his face.

always an unsaid occurrence, suguru hops out of bed, grabbing one of his shirts to toss to you. you'd spend the rest of the night cuddled into his big chest, talking to the sound of flickering candlelight and soft rock music.

he's not one for tv shows or distractions when you're near him.

after all, you are his best friend. you two have plenty of ways of entertaining each other.

[dumbseee]

i’ll be watching you.

note: warnings for violence, psycho behaviour, wrote that at 1am so it’s kinda bad.

.

geum seongje wasn’t the romantic type.

he wasn’t interested in getting a girlfriend, and to be honest, the attention he got from the female audience could be annoying to him.

all he wanted was make a ton of money, go to the arcade, beat up some dumbasses, go home and repeat.

seongje was always very nonchalant about anything else in life, he hated school, didn’t want to work, didn’t want to make friends or get a girlfriend. seongje was just a chill guy, leaning towards the insane side of the spectrum, but a chill guy still.

but when he met you, seongje discovered a new side of him.

a raw, intense and ugly side that have been buried deep inside his soul, waiting for the moment to be released.

he first landed his eyes on you when he walked into the coffee shop you worked at. time immediately stopped and seongje could finally understand the feeling described in all those stupid romance dramas, do seongmok watched in secret.

when your eyes met, seongje felt like he could finally breath correctly, as if, for all this time, he had something weighing on his chest, that didn’t let him breath properly.

your gorgeous long hair, cascaded down your back, he wished he could run his fingers along your locks. your warm and kind eyes, he knew he could drown in them. your perfect and beautiful smile, he wished your smiles were only directed at him.

seongje quickly grew obsessed with you, and seongje isn’t the cute type of obsessed. he doesn’t leave you cute notes in your tips jar, he doesn’t leave roses on your doorstep, he doesn’t do that. no.

seongje follows you home, he manage to make himself a spare key, gets into your apartment when you’re not here, and lay in your bed when you’re absent, fantasising on the life he could offer you. the life you two could have, married with dozens of kids running around, while you’d look at them from your house’s porch. for the first time in his life, geum seongje dreamed of settling with someone.

seongje sits outside your workplace and wait for you till you finish your shift, and walk you home, from afar of course.

seongje watches your every move from his hideout, he managed to hack into your work’s security system and now has access to the live footage of the cameras.

he sees you, smiling to each and every damn customers, and he wished those smiles were directed at him, and him only.

those people don’t deserve to see you smile, they don’t love you like seongje does. they can’t protect you like seongje could.

when you almost get assaulted by a lousy coworker of yours, seongje pops out of a random bush and easily slams him against a nearby wall. hands in his pockets, cigarette in his mouth, he stood tall in front of you, his huge back facing your shaking form.

"tsk, tsk, tsk, in 2025 you still can’t take no for an answer?" he nonchalantly told the guy, who was barely collecting himself from almost merging with the brick wall.

"who the fuck are you? stay out of this, motherfucker!" the poor guy yelled, seongje whistled before erupting in a fit of laughter. "why are you laughing, you crazy psycho!" the guy tried to appear as tough and fearless, but truth was, he was terrified by the giant standing in front of him. there was something off putting with him, his aura screamed crazy psycho in loud capitals.

seongje stopped laughing immediately, his face falling and his eyes darkened. your coworker was currently shaking in his boots, he tried to swing first, but seongje dodged it with ease. since you could be in the way as well, seongje pulled you by your wrist and yanked you behind him.

for the first time, your eyes met. there was no way this man was sane with the way he was smiling in that kind of situation, and you couldn’t really see his face thanks to the poor lighting of the alley.

seongje quickly looked away when he saw the man charging towards him, seongje sighed before kicking your coworker in the chest, making him loose his balance and fall hardly on the concrete. all seongje wanted to do, was beating this motherfucker to a pulp for daring to touch you and scare you in the process. but he couldn’t show you his true colours yet.

he had to the perfect knight in shining armour, right now.

"leave her alone, she clearly doesn’t want you so stop embarrassing yourself." hands in his pockets, seongje nudged the guy, with his foot. he kept moaning in pain which made seongje grin, what a pussy.

seongje turned away from him and smiled at you, you were clearly shaken up and seongje really had to try hard to not turn around and kill your stupid coworker. "i’ll walk you home." he didn’t wait for your answer, actually he wasn’t asking or proposing, it was an affirmation.

he started walking ahead of you, making you run after him because there was no way you wanted to stay with your coworker. so you walked, seongje walking ahead of you, and you walking, a few steps behind him.

from behind you could get a good look of his body, seongje was tall, like almost two feet taller than you, and he had broad shoulders with a slim waist. you could tell he was good looking, and knew it. the way he carried himself screamed confidence, and almost cockiness. he walked like he owned the place.

he wore a school uniform, you recognised as ganghak. that school was infamous for having all sorts of delinquent. was he one of them? of course, this guy singlehanded your coworker, in one hit.

the walk home quickly ended when seongje suddenly stopped right in front of your doorstep. you didn’t even realise you arrived, you were so lost in thoughts. seongje turned around to face you, he looked down at you and brushed a loose strand of hair, behind your ear.

"take care of yourself, pretty girl." his voice was low, barely above a whisper and it made you shiver. he grinned at you, with that weird and almost twisted expression before leaving.

once inside the safety of your apartment, a thought made your heart skip a beat, you never gave him your address.

[opulace]

── THREADS OF LOVE 御影 玲王 mikage reo

contains: gn!reader, fluff, established relationship, pet names (babe), reader is referred to as ma'am once, but otherwise no specific pronouns used

word count: 520

reo doesn't understand your attachment to his old, tattered t-shirt.

this was the last thing you thought you'd be squabbling over today.

"god, why do you still have this?"

"because you gave it to me!"

the hem is fraying, it's sporting multiple steadily growing holes and a stretched collar, but most importantly, it's the very first t-shirt that reo gave you early in your relationship.

you're almost offended when he suggests throwing it out.

he holds it up with a small perplexed frown, inspecting the piece of fabric with disdain as he clicks his tongue in mock disgust. "but it's so tattered, i can easily have this replaced babe. it's not even that expensive, not that it would matter."

"no, it's not the same." you argue defensively, absentmindedly attempting to snatch it out of his grasp, only for him to cheekily tug it just out of your reach, your fingers barely grazing against the cotton softened with time and wear.

"what are you—" your eyes almost bulge out in panic when he makes a move to get up, fearing the mischievous glint in his amethyst eyes. "wait, where are you going?"

you shriek as he slings it over his shoulder and gets up to leave the room. "give it back!"

his laughs echo through your apartment as you scramble to your feet to chase after him, banging your fists against his back in protest and begging him to let go of your prized possession. "wait, reo please! i'll get it patched up, sew up the holes myself even, just don't throw it away!"

in his defiance, your words fall on deaf ears, and in an act of desperation, you wrap your arms as tightly as you can around his waist and press yourself into his frame. your strength doesn't amount to his in the slightest and does little to deter him, but the muffled words against his back causes his heart to clench, slowing him to a stop.

"it's seen me through the nights we've spent apart, when the closest i got to being with you was talking through the phone, or when you're away and i'm cheering you on through the live broadcast."

reo stays silent as he takes your hands in his, turning himself around to pull you against his chest. there's truth in your words and he knows it. unfortunately his career started forcing some distance between you not long since you've started dating, but his heart has always been right there with you, even when he can't physically be.

your face burns with bashfulness of your sudden outpour but there's a hint of nostalgia and yearning laced in your quietly muttered words, "there's so much time and memories wrapped up in the fibres of this old t-shirt, i just can't bear to let go of it you know?"

"i know." he coos, combing his fingers through your hair and pressing kiss to your temple in apology, "i'm sorry i even considered it."

you shake your head with a harmless exaggerated scowl, all bark and no bite, just his sweet, sweet love. "just give it back to me or you're sleeping on the couch tonight."

"yes ma'am."

masterlist

tags: @mikiruie @saucejar @ayatakanosstuff @stellar-headquarters @kurogira

© opulace. please do not repost, plagiarise, translate, or feed my work to ai.

[joooooniecore]

After all this time

Your friends have been successful enough to drag you out of your workaholic routine for a vacation out of country.

The only problem? Your long term crush who actually used to be your best friend is also going there. And he is bringing his girlfriend, your ex-female best friend.

What could go wrong? Right?

✧˖* pairing: ex-bestfriend!mingyu x f!reader

✧˖* chapter count: master-list

✧˖* genre: ex-best friend mingyu, friends to strangers to friends to lovers, fluff, angst, slow-burn, smut.

✧˖* playlist: spotify playlist

✧˖* full work warnings: resurfaced old feelings, toxic relationship(not between the main characters), angst, confusions, resentments, past misunderstandings, a very slow burn

✧˖* explicit warnings: penetration, explicit language, cursing, bodily fluids, praising, body worship.

✧˖* author's note: hi! here is the first chapter of the fanfic. i must confess that it is a little slow burn kind of. the romance isn't present in a very loud sense but you can feel the way the main characters are attracted to each other. i hope this fanfic will be loved by everyone! --- love, artemis.

✧˖* tag-list: @ana-marais98 @hellosighsophy-blog @ppaia @whoa-jo

COMMENT TO BE IN THE TAG-LIST!<3

Chapter 1

It was a soft winter morning. The sun had finally decided to grace the city with its presence. The delicate sun beams glistened through the white curtains of your bedroom. The clock kept ticking without waiting for anyone.

It was a lazy morning, like the ones from your childhood when you used to wake up with your mind relaxed and drag your feet to the breakfast table to find your mother making some delicious pancakes for you. You would buzz towards it like a little bee buzzing towards a flower.

Well, that’s not the case with you anymore. The morning alarm screams annoyingly at 6 am, as you groan in your very comfy little cocoon, second guessing whether you should get moving or ruin your entire career. The alarm negotiates in opposition as you finally give in and bring out your hand to grab the sweater first.

You sleep in thin nightwear since you hate sleeping with layers on. After slipping into the soft woolen cloth, you wear some fuzzy socks as you get out of bed and slowly drag your feet towards your room’s window.

The sun rays were dying to get in as you gently unlatch the window, allowing the fresh morning breeze to make your heart feel a little better. You love the winter mornings, as the soft light plays around on the snowy fields.

The cozy sweaters and soft mittens are what you wait for all year long. And especially Christmas. You love Christmas. It’s the only time of the year when you can dress up as you want, and decorate your small mushy apartment in the most extravagant manner. The salary bonus is an add on.

The door to your bedroom creaks open as you make your way to the shower. You had a long day ahead of you hence you decided to shower before getting breakfast. You were never the kind of girl who worked half-heartedly. Being the over-achiever of your family, you have always loved learning and studying.

Even in college, when your friends were partying and enjoying youth, you were drowning in assignments and pulled all-nighters studying for exams. You were always serious. Always hustling. Never falling back. That didn’t mean you never had fun. You always had good friends who understood that study came first in your life. They would make sure to include you in everything and you being a little soft-hearted for them, would always agree to tag along from time to time.

It was the same when you got a job at this very famous Tech company. You were always inclined towards learning more about technology. You worked diligently and it showed. You soon got a very big promotion upgrading you to a project head within the first three years. It was easy for you. To work hard and tune out everything that was happening around you.

The sharp crackle of metal frame brought you out of your head as you saw the bread was toasted. You took it out, gently laying it on your plate as you scraped some butter to go with it. Then you decided to have some poached eggs too.

Most of the companies around here have already declared Christmas holidays but you still have to go for another week before you get the much-needed break. You loved the concept of holiday. Relaxing by the beach or in mountains with no phone calls to bother you.

Your father, unlike your mother has always nagged you when you would sit idly even as a kid. He used to lecture that if you sat idly in your free time then it would create a demon in your brain who will always force you to sit idly. You knew there wasn’t any such thing but a ten-year-old believed that and turned herself into a workaholic.

You had no friends till you went to college. You had no love life till high school. No crushes or even dates. Boys used to ask you out sometimes but you would decline them with a soft smile and sad eyes. It was a distraction after all and you were too tired to put efforts into taking care of one more person. Your siblings were enough for that.

The apartment keys jingled as you picked up your handbag and lunch box. You slipped into your work shoes and wrapped a black heavy trench coat around yourself, buckling it in tightly. The apartment door’s lock clicked as you were finally out of your apartment. The click clacks of your boots echoed in the empty hallway as you made your way to the building’s elevator.

On your way down the parking lot, you waved to the watchman as he dipped his hat in some sort of countryside salute. Outside the air was extremely chilly as you found yourself wrapping your hands around your torso despite the number of layers you were wearing. You could see the snow that has settled on the pathway as your boots dipped in a bit into the thick layer before you raised them again and walked to the nearby bus stand.

Your office was on the outskirts of the town. It was a new establishment and was made to bring in some development in the town. You have lived in this town since you were born and it was nice knowing that it will evolve into something better.

The idea was first looked down upon by many elderly people but then it did actually do some wonderous updates to the town and was soon accepted. It even employed a lot of people which helped many.

You loved your job. Truly. Though sometimes it did become overwhelming. In the recent few months, it has gotten a bit annoying due to the change in directors. The previous director was this happy old man who actually took care of the employees a lot. He would always give the employees some extra holidays or even organize jam sessions in office on a random Tuesday to let go off the load.

The employees loved him and admired him a lot until he retired. Everyone including you cried a lot at the celebratory dinner of his retirement. The new director is also old, maybe a little younger than the previous one but is extremely grumpy. He is rude, and doesn’t even care about how one gets the job done.

The distant horn of the bus startled you as you hurriedly gathered your things that you have kept on the nearby bench and hoped on. The journey was a short one. The roads were cleared by the town maintenance hence there was no issue and you reached office a bit earlier than your usual time. You got down from the bus and walked up to the gates of the tall building.

The elevators were mostly empty during this time. Only you and a few more employees of some other department were in it. You bowed to them, sharing a similar robotic smile and got down on your floor. You were in the IT department and a project head; hence you had your own office. This was a relief to you as you could have some privacy when you worked.

The biometric lock scanned your ID and the door LED dinged green as you pushed it open and went in. Your office was on the last left corner of a hallway.

As you walked pass many cubicles, you bowed to anyone in your vicinity. You weren’t a rude employee and you actually took your time to greet everyone. It was least you could do because everyone here knew how much you hated bringing office friendships back to your personal life. You never became too friendly with someone. It was always a bow and a soft smile and never a full-on laugh. It was always some mandatory gift giving and never some everyday ‘let’s get lunch together’ thing.

You were friendly but distant and most of the people around respected that. The wooden door to your office room clicked open as you got in and locked it perfectly. You still had two hours before the actual work started, so you would normally check your emails, get work done if any or simply go through your text messages to see if something important is there. It was part of your daily routine.

It was in college that you met your first friend, Jihyun and then Seungkwan. Both of them came into your life in the most unexpected way and sticked around even if you were mostly distant. They would bring you homecooked food and even make you go with them to shopping. They basically made your college life worth thriving.

As you go through your emails, replying back to the necessary ones, there is a soft tap on your door. Startled by who could be here so early your brain malfunctioned a bit before you got up from your very comfortable chair, groaning a bit due to the loss of heat that you had a few minutes ago and unlocked the door.

“I don’t get it.”, Jeonghan whisper-yelled as he pushed you aside and got inside your cabin, locking the door and dragging you with him.

Did you forget to mention him?

Meet Yoon Jeonghan. The only office employee who is allowed in your personal life or more like he made sure you allow him in your personal life. He is as dramatic as he sounds and probably the prettiest man you have ever seen. You sometimes get jealous of him because of the number of men he pulls. He is sassy, quick-witted and extremely charming. Even though he is dramatic, he is the best comfort person.

Startled by his sudden words you allow him to take a seat on the chair you were sitting a few moments ago, as you lift your hips to give yourself some support on the desk.

“Why are you here so early?”, you asked as normally he would come at his usual time.

He grumbled a bit, sipping on the matcha that he had in his hand and said, “I had to come this early because I needed to talk with you about something.”

From the last five years that you have known him, you know for sure that the hell has to break loose for Jeonghan to wake this early in the morning.

“You could have just called or texted me.”, you offered.

“I could, right? Well, who keeps her phone on DND in the morning hour?”, Jeonghan snarled as he smirked.

You blushed red. You do have a habit of doing that to reduce the number of distractions. Your mom has a very annoying habit of calling you at the worst times to say the most random things so you just mute your phone till lunch break. You hit him on the shoulder as if begging him to stop teasing you.

“Fine! What is it oh dear lord Yoon Jeonghan that you needed to say to me?”, you taunted.

Jeonghan’s expression turned a bit grave but he recovered quickly and said in a soft voice, “We broke up.”

The news was enough to shatter whatever playful atmosphere you both had a minute ago. You stared at him wide eyed for a second and then quickly lunged forward to hug him tight.

Jeonghan has always hated dating people. He was as independent as you can imagine and he hated the dependency that came with relationships until last year. That’s when he met this guy Mark at an official event. It was organized by few of the big companies and had many well-known people. Mark is a lawyer and he is pretty famous in the area. He had won many cases and is extremely intelligent. Jeonghan and Mark clicked off instantly and by the end of the week were happily dating.

Since the past few months though something fell a bit off. Jeonghan stayed a bit aloof and was mostly cranky. He would go home early and sometimes even not greet you for two days straight. It was weird to see him crumble like this. He did recover from that feeling and that’s when you knew the divorce of his parents.

It was a bad topic to discuss about so you comforted him instead by taking him on short trips and nudging him to go on more dates with Mark.

“What happened? Why would he do that?”, you asked.

“Well technically I broke up with him. I was back at my hometown for a week for all the proceedings but it ended quicker than I imagined so I decided to surprise him. I got on an early train and went to our shared apartment and umm saw him with a woman.”, Jeonghan spoke in a clear voice but the shaking of his hands gave away how hurt he was.

Jeonghan always had a habit of burying his emotions deep and act playful all the time which is why most of the times you don’t even know how bad the situation is until he opens his mouth to explain.

“He did what?”, you almost yelled. You were fuming. Mark was bi and all but he didn’t seem like someone who would be this cruel. Yes, you did find him weird at times but you would see Jeonghan happy and go along with it.

“He cheated on me and I screamed when I saw it and then we got into a fight.”, said Jeonghan. You allowed him to continue.

“He said that I don’t give him enough time and I always go back to my hometown so he thought that I was probably cheating on him with someone else from my hometown.”, Jeonghan finished the story in one breath. He was clearly affected by it even if he tried to act nonchalant.

You were fuming at this point. You seriously considered murdering Mark.

“I fucking hate him. How can he do this to you?”, you said, clearly in a murderous voice.

Jeonghan chuckled through his teary-eyed voice and said, “Aye don’t ruin your mood for this. I am okay now.”

“Where did you sleep last night then?”, you asked next.

“I slept at my cousin’s place.”

You nodded and he decided to take his leave and not torment you more. You both decided to meet at lunch break and talk shit about Mark. After Jeonghan left, your office cabin went back to its soft eerie silence. You could hear the clattering of the window pane due to the wind.

The pitter patter of soft rain that always happened during this hour in winters. The wheezing sound of the water purifier that acted as a constant reminder of modern setting. You slowly sat down on your desk and decided to finish the rest of the work.

Half an hour later, your phone rang. You startled a bit because of how concentrated you were and turned the screen to see who it was.

Seungkwan’s name glowed. You contemplated a bit before answering the call.

“Why are you not answering my texts?”, Seungkwan yelled as soon as you picked up the call.

“Well hello to you too Kwannie. I am great, how are you?”, you answered in a sarcastic tone.

Seungkwan audibly groaned and said, “ Don’t you dare change the topic. I need answers.”

“I didn’t get time to check I am sorry. Just repeat what you texted to me.”, you finally said. You were too tired to go through probably forty text messages that Seungkwan has sent you over the span of two days.

You could hear some shuffling on the other side as you imagined Seungkwan to find a place to sit in his small apartment before he filled you in with the information.

“We are planning a trip next week.”, he finally said.

You had heard about it a month back and could remember some of the details in the back of your head. The plan was then at its initial stages so you didn’t really care about it. Most of the plans that Seungkwan makes go down the drain when the time comes by. He is very indecisive.

“The one to Prague?”, you asked as you regained some of the information you heard back then.

“Oh, thank heavens you remember some of it. Yes, Prague. My friend actually has relatives there who are willing to give us their bungalow so that we can tour around comfortably.”

You nodded as you asked, “So what is the plan?”

You could practically hear Seungkwan squeal as he explained, “Well we leave the upcoming Monday and return back before New Year’s Eve.”

Seungkwan goes to orphanages near the town on New Year’s Eve hence he planned it in such a way that you guys return before that. Sometimes you just wonder how this menace can he so soft hearted.

“Okay? So do I get a choice whether to go or not?”, you asked, even if you knew the answer.

“Haha! You wish. You are going with us. You need to.”, Seungkwan laughed menacingly.

You shook your head softly and asked, “Who all are going?”

You knew that some of your college classmates are going to be there because Seungkwan is practically friends with everyone. Even if he is the closest to you, he loves being a social butterfly and that shows pretty well.

“Umm so me, Jihyun and you obviously. Chan is going since it’s his relative’s bungalow. Jihyun is bringing her brother Vernon and my friend Seungcheol will go.”

You thought the list was done. There was a long pause before Seungkwan spoke again, voice a bit unsure this time, “M-Mingyu is also going.”

Your mind went blank. A shiver ran down your spine as you took a deep breath. It is quite obvious Mingyu would go. He had always been part of the group. You just decided to omit him from your life when college got over.

Kim Mingyu, same department as yours in college and one of your closest friends. He was extremely charming and intelligent. You both clicked off instantly and stayed the same for two years. He was the first guy you had a crush on.

In the final year of college, you finally decided to confess to him and that ended badly. Hence you are embarrassed to even go close to him now.

“Is he still dating her?”, you asked, a bit unsure.

“Yes, he is. I think he might bring her but I have no idea about that.”, Seungkwan answered.

You really wanted to say no to the trip and stay in your bed all day and watch sappy Christmas movies till it is time to get back to work again. The urge to cut the call and block everyone was too much but you were arrogant too.

It wasn’t Mingyu’s fault that you were this heartbroken. He announced that he was dating someone before you even confessed. It was the embarrassment that you felt when you realized that the sweet talks Mingyu did with you were just out of mere friendliness and you took it the wrong way.

“I will go. Don’t worry. I have a request though?”, you said finally.

“What is it?”, asked Seungkwan.

“I have a friend in office. His name is Jeonghan. He is very dear to me.”, you justified even if it was not required.

“I know Jeonghan. We have met few times when you invite me to your house. He is a sweet guy.”

“Yes, so umm he went through a pretty harsh breakup recently. The guy cheated on him so I want him to have a relaxing break too.”, you stated.

“Of course! The more the merrier. You can discuss with him and let me know if he is willing to donate his share for the trip and I will book another plane ticket for him.”, Seungkwan replied enthusiastically.

You smiled a bit and bid him goodbye. The rest of the day went in a daze. You did discuss about the trip with Jeonghan and he was more than willing to contribute. He loved going out with friends. He was actually grateful and took his time to learn about everyone who will be there on the trip.

It was almost nighttime when you got off work and went back to your apartment. You freshened up and heated some leftover food. You picked up your half-read book, a plate full of pasta and a glass of water before settling on the cozy sofa. After the meal was over you finally decide to check your text messages.

You were added to a group and it was titled ‘Boo-tastic holiday plan’, You giggled at the name and decided to read the chats. It was mostly Seungkwan and Chan bickering over the arrangement of things and the activities and sight-seeing that were to be done. Once in a while Jihyun interrupted both of them and gave logical reasons to make sure no one goes off track during the plan.  

After a while Seungkwan tagged you in the group and asked you to add Jeonghan which you did. Jeonghan was happy and even introduced himself. Everyone welcomed him and the mood shifted to light jokes and several plans.

A soft smile was plastered on your face as you saw your friends enjoying the chat. You always admired them for saving you. You never really had good friends in school. Everyone approached you only when they needed help in studies and hence you grew up extremely aloof.

Your train of thoughts was cut off when a ding came from your phone. It was an unknown number that has texted.

Unknown number

It has been a long time since I saw you.

You hesitated a bit clearly not sure who it was. You checked the account and saw that it was someone from the group Seungkwan added you in.

You

Sorry, who is this? I don’t have the number saved.

Unknown number

Wow now I am stranger? The person who helped you with every assignment is now a stranger huh?

Your eyes bulged open as you correctly guessed who it was. Mingyu was texting you and it increased your heartbeat. You have had zero connections with him since the day you graduated. It was something you needed to do for your mental health.

He was quickly becoming a distraction and you were not ready to mess up your life for him. Even though there were times when you hated him for acting so friendly and flirty with you, you still had a soft spot for the happy boy that he was.

You

Mingyu?

Unknown number

Correct! You do have good memory.

You blushed at the message.

Mingyu

I am so excited to meet you!

You

Me? Huh? Are you gonna kill me or something?

Mingyu

You wish! No, I actually missed you. We used to be best friends in college and then randomly you went poof one day.

“Yeah, right best friends. That’s all I was to him apparently.”, you bitterly chuckled under your breath before replying.

You

Lol yeah sorry. Tough times. I am excited to meet you too.

Mingyu

Yay!^^

You

:)

You kept your phone aside and sighed. This was going to be a long trip.

click <<here>> to go to chapter 2!

✧˖* end notes: i am planning to post every monday as that would help me to keep the pace and not rush things. i hope you all loved it!

[sunandflame]

Hi Sunny !! If its not too much trouble to ask do you think you'd be able to write some breeding kink between Lucci and reader :3

A Quiet Hunger

Warnings: nsfw, smut, breending kink, emotional tension, zoan traits slipping at climax, intense and sensual domination

Word Count: 1244

Pairing: Rob Lucci x AFAB!Reader

crossposted on AO3

You’d barely stepped inside his office before he locked the door behind you. The click echoed like a gunshot. Rob Lucci didn’t look at you as he passed by — only strode across the floor, silent and predatory, until he stood behind his desk. The air was heavy between you. Always was. You worked together in CP0. Worked well, even. That’s what made it dangerous. They had rules. Strict ones.

No emotional ties. No distractions. No liabilities.

You were all three to him. And he didn’t care. You watched as he unfastened the front of his jacket with cold, methodical hands — every movement smooth, efficient. Not rushed, not hesitant. Just measured. Controlled. Until his eyes met yours. Then the control frayed.

“Over here,” he said, voice low.

Your legs moved before your brain caught up. There was something about the way he looked at you — unreadable, but loaded, like he was calculating a hundred different things and every one of them led to your body. When you reached him, his hand came up slowly — fingers brushing over your jaw. You leaned into it instinctively.

And then, without a word, he kissed you. Hard. 

You gasped into his mouth as his other hand slid down to your hip, dragging you flush against him. You could feel the heat of him through his slacks, already stiff and pulsing between your thighs.

You shouldn’t have come. You shouldn’t have answered the message he sent — a single word: Come.  No name. No context. But you always knew what it meant. This wasn’t supposed to happen again. It was reckless, it was dangerous, and most of all — it was real. And that terrified you. But you couldn’t stay away. Not from him.

He lifted you onto his desk in one fluid motion — strong arms bracketing your waist as he pushed you backward, lips trailing down your neck, his breath ragged.

“You’re late,” he murmured, biting your collarbone.

You let out a breathless laugh. “Was I supposed to be on time for something we can’t talk about?”

His eyes flicked up to yours. Sharp. Golden. Then he shoved your skirt up your thighs, pulling your underwear down in one slow, deliberate tug. “No,” he said, voice dark. “But I waited anyway.”

You weren’t expecting that. Didn’t get the chance to reply either — because he was on his knees in front of you before you could speak, tongue hot and wet as it dragged up your center in one long stroke.

You gasped, head falling back. “Luc—”

He didn’t answer. Just kept going — slow, intense licks that made your hips jolt forward, until he had to pin you down by the thighs to keep you still. It was unfair how good he was at this. Like every time he touched you, he was memorizing what made you fall apart. And right now, he wanted you ruined.

Your hands tangled in his hair, fingers tightening as his tongue circled your clit again and again — then dipped into your entrance, tongue-fucking you like he had all night to indulge. You were moaning now, openly — not caring if anyone walked by, not caring if the walls were thin. 

He owned your body. He knew it. And soon, you felt it — the edge, coming fast.

“Lucci— I’m gonna—!”

But he pulled away too soon. You whined, frustrated, but he only rose slowly to his feet, eyes smoldering, mouth glistening with your slick.

“You’ll come on my cock,” he said simply. “Now lie back.”

You did. He undid his belt without breaking eye contact — slow and deliberate, like he was daring you to look away. You didn’t. When he freed himself from his slacks, your breath hitched. You could never get used to his size — thick, long, intimidating even when he was gentle (which was rare). But tonight, he looked hungry. He stroked himself once, then lined up at your entrance.

"You remember the last time I filled you like this?" he murmured, brushing his tip through your slick folds. "You couldn’t walk straight for two days."

You moaned at the memory — and he pressed in deep, in one slow, devastating stroke. Your body arched, helpless against the stretch. It never got easier. And that’s exactly why you loved it.

"You like that?" he asked, voice low in your ear. "Being full of me. Stretched to the limit."

You nodded, mouth open but no words coming out — just raw, needy sounds.

"Say it."

"I— I love it," you breathed. "It’s too much— but I love it—"

A flicker of something dark and possessive passed through his eyes. "Good girl." Then he began to move. Long, hard thrusts that forced the air from your lungs, the desk beneath you groaning with every snap of his hips.

You were nothing but sensation. Fire. Heat. The sound of skin on skin. The slap of his hips, the deep thud of your heart against your ribs, the friction that pulled you deeper into him with every stroke. And through it all, his voice — quiet, controlled, but dripping with filth:

"I’m the only one who gets to see you like this.""The only one who’ll ever fill you like this.""I’m going to come inside you and you’ll take every drop."

You cried out, your walls fluttering around him — so close, almost there—

"That’s it," he growled. "Milk it. You want it, don’t you?"

"Yes—"

"Say it."

"I want you to come in me," you sobbed. "I want it so bad, Rob— please—"

And that was the last thread of control he had. His thrusts turned erratic, harder, desperate. And then— he slammed into you, one final time, and everything changed. You felt it first — the claws digging into your thighs. Not painful, but sharp. Animal. Then the soft brush of fur — a tail, wrapping possessively around your calf. And the growl. Deep, guttural, inhuman. He came with a violent shudder, cock twitching inside you as hot spurts of seed filled your core. You could feel it — the pulse of it, thick and endless.

Your body seized again, dragged into a second orgasm from the sheer intensity — crying out as he rutted through it, slow and needy. When it was done, he collapsed over you — breath harsh in your ear, forehead pressed to your shoulder. Slowly, the claws retracted. The tail vanished. The ears flattened back into his hairline. His body, however, didn’t move. Neither did yours.

You stayed like that for a long time, just breathing. Eventually, he pulled out — the loss making you whimper softly — and helped ease you upright with surprising tenderness. Still silent. Still unreadable.

You looked at him, flushed and dazed. “…you lost control.”

He didn’t answer. Just stared at you, jaw tight, golden eyes narrowed. “…you didn’t hate it,” he said finally.

“No,” you breathed. “I didn’t.”

Silence. Then, slowly, he stepped closer — one hand resting on your lower belly. You felt a fresh heat rush to your cheeks.

“Do you want it?” he asked, voice barely audible. “If I made it real.”

Your heart stopped. He wasn’t just talking about sex anymore. “…would you still want me if I said yes?”

His hand tightened slightly. “I wouldn’t give you the option to say no.”

Your breath caught. “…Then yes,” you said softly. “I want it.”

His eyes closed briefly — like the words physically hit him. Then he kissed you. Slower, this time. Less need. More claim. As if you hadn’t already been his long ago.

[skzstarl0ver]

ᴅʀᴜɴᴋ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ꜱᴏʙᴇʀ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛꜱ

Lee Felix x reader / best friends to lovers / smut → angst / drunk!Felix

**involves!!** alcohol, drunken actions, sex, make out

enjoy xx (open for request)

★.•☆•.★★.•☆•.★¸.•☆•.¸★ skzstarl0ver ★⡀.•☆•.★⡀.•☆•.★¸.•☆•.¸★

The party was still echoing in your ears, even as you half-carried Felix through the quiet dorm hallways.

He was warm and heavy against your side, one arm slung around your shoulder, head lolling just slightly as he muttered nonsense under his breath. Every few steps, he giggled — at nothing in particular, just the kind of laughter that only came from a few too many drinks and a head full of stars.

"You good?" you asked, adjusting his arm as you passed the stairwell.

"Mhm," he hummed. "You're warm."

"You’re wasted," you replied, trying not to laugh, even as your heart did a weird little flutter thing. He always did that to you — without even trying.

Felix and you had been best friends for what felt like forever. He was the kind of constant in your life that never needed defining. Always there. Always close. Maybe too close, according to everyone else. “You guys are basically married,” Chan had said once. You'd laughed. Felix hadn’t.

You reached his door, fishing for his keys in his hoodie pocket. He rested his chin on your shoulder, exhaling softly.

"You smell good," he murmured.

"Felix—"

"I love you, you know... so much."

You froze.

His voice was suddenly quiet, too clear. Too real.

When you turned, he was already staring at you. His smile had faded, replaced by something softer, deeper. Glassy eyes. Barely-there breath. The air between you shifted — like the moment before a storm or a kiss.

"Felix, you're drunk," you said, but it came out like a whisper. Like a lie.

Then he kissed you.

Messy. Sweet. Desperate.

His hands were in your hair, on your waist, pulling you closer like he’d been waiting his whole life to do this. And you—God—you kissed him back.

Because maybe you’d been waiting too.

The keys slipped from your hand, clinking to the floor unnoticed. You barely made it inside the dorm before he was pressing you against the door, lips hot and searching, breath shaky like he couldn’t get enough of you. His hands wandered — greedy and clumsy — under your shirt, along your waist, up your spine.

“Tell me to stop,” he breathed, his forehead pressed against yours, voice wrecked.

You didn’t.

You grabbed his hoodie, pulled it over his head, kissed him like you needed him to understand something words couldn’t say.

He made this sound — low and raw in the back of his throat — and then he was everywhere. Mouth on your neck, teeth grazing skin, tongue warm as he kissed down to your collarbone. His hands slipped under the waistband of your jeans like he couldn’t wait another second, and you let him.

You wanted him.

You always had.

His room was dim, lit only by the streetlamp outside. Clothes hit the floor in between kisses and gasps and stumbling laughter, the kind that only came when you wanted someone so badly it scared you.

When your back hit the mattress, he paused — just long enough to look at you. Really look at you.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, almost to himself.

And then his mouth was on your chest, his hands sliding down your thighs, spreading you open with a reverence that didn’t match how drunk he was. Like his body remembered even if his mind was foggy. Like he knew exactly what you needed.

“Felix—” you moaned, hands threading through his hair.

“Tell me what you want,” he mumbled against your skin, lips moving lower, slower, dragging heat with them.

“You.”

That was all it took.

He pulled you to the edge of the bed, lined himself up with shaking hands. Pressed in slow. Inch by inch. His head dropped to your shoulder, a shudder rolling through him.

“Fuck,” he whispered, and you felt it too — the stretch, the fullness, the way he held you like he’d fall apart if he let go.

And then he moved.

Sloppy at first. Like he couldn’t control himself. Deep, slow thrusts, building into something frantic. His name fell from your lips over and over. And he just kept saying yours — like a prayer, like a secret, like he was scared to forget it.

It wasn’t perfect. It was messy and breathless and urgent.

But it felt like everything.

And when he came — face buried in your neck, body trembling, voice breaking — it sounded like love.

_

The sunlight was soft when you woke up — too soft. It filtered through the half-open blinds in stripes across the sheets, warm against your bare skin. The room smelled like Felix’s cologne and sweat and sleep. Familiar, but changed.

You didn’t open your eyes at first. You just… lay there. Listening to the quiet. The ache between your legs a dull reminder that it hadn’t been a dream.

Last night happened.

The kisses, the way he said I love you, the way he held you — like he needed you, like he meant every desperate whisper. The way your name spilled from his lips when he came, like it was the only thing anchoring him to earth.

You’d never felt so wanted.

You’d never wanted anything more.

And then— A rustle. The creak of the bed. Movement.

Your eyes blinked open, slow, adjusting to the light.

Felix was sitting on the edge of the mattress, pulling a shirt over his head, back turned to you. His hair was still a little messy. There were faint red marks on his neck — from you. You traced one with your gaze and your chest squeezed.

He didn’t look back.

“You’re up,” you said softly, voice still rough with sleep.

“Shit,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “What time is it?”

You glanced at your phone on the floor. “Almost nine.”

He turned around then — halfway — and gave you a crooked smile. “Damn. I drank way too much last night.”

You waited. Just waited.

“Did I… do anything stupid?” he asked, tone light, almost teasing.

And just like that — You felt it. The shift. The drop.

You swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. “No.”

He didn’t notice. Just let out a breath of relief. “Good. I blacked out a little, I think. Last thing I remember is you helping me get my keys.”

Your whole body stilled.

That was hours before he kissed you. Before he said I love you. Before he pulled you into his bed and whispered your name like it was a confession.

He didn’t remember.

He didn’t remember any of it.

“Oh,” you said quietly. “Yeah. You were pretty out of it.”

Felix stood up, stretching with a groan. “Ugh. I need water. And maybe to never drink again.”

You nodded. Watched him walk to the kitchen area in his boxers, humming a song like the floor hadn’t just dropped out from under you.

It was stupid to expect more. He was drunk. He didn’t mean it. He forgot.

But you didn’t.

You remembered everything.

The way he kissed you like you were more than just a friend. The way he touched you like he knew your body already. The way he held you afterward — tight, gentle, lips at your temple.

It wasn’t just sex. Not to you.

And now, you were stuck.

You could tell him. Admit it meant something. That it meant everything to you.

Or—

You could pretend it never happened.

Pretend you didn’t feel all the things he doesn’t even remember.

You pulled the blanket around yourself and stared at the ceiling.

Your heart whispered one thing. Your pride whispered another.

And Felix? He was laughing softly to himself in the kitchen, pouring cereal. Still yours. Still not yours.

_

You didn’t mean to avoid him. Not really.

It just… happened.

At first, it was small stuff. Delayed texts. One-word replies. Saying you were “busy” when you weren’t. You skipped lunch. Left a group hang early. And every time he asked what was up, you dodged it with a joke or a shrug or nothing at all.

You didn’t know what to say. Hey, remember when we had drunk sex and you told me you loved me, and then woke up with zero memory of it? Yeah, that kinda messed me up lol.

It was easier to act normal. Even when normal didn’t feel normal anymore.

Even when you kept thinking about the way he touched you that night — like it wasn’t his first time doing it in his head.

Even when you still remembered the exact way he whispered “I love you,” like it was a truth trying to claw its way out of his chest.

And now?

Now you couldn’t look at him without wondering how much of that was real.

It had been almost a week.

You were curled up in your hoodie on the couch, scrolling aimlessly, when your phone lit up.

felix [10:04pm] hey. can we talk? i’ll come to you. just tell me if you’re home.

You stared at the screen for a while. Thumb hovering. Considering.

Then: you [10:06pm] sure.. i’m home.

You didn’t expect him to show up so fast.

A knock on your door barely five minutes later. You opened it mid-sigh, like you were bracing for something bigger than it was — and there he was. Felix. Hoodie, beanie, nervous hands in his pockets. Cheeks a little pink from the cold.

He gave you a small, awkward smile.

“Hey.”

You stepped aside and let him in.

He stood in your living room like it was unfamiliar, even though he’d crashed here a hundred times before. Slept on your couch. Hogged your blankets. Used your charger like it was his.

Now? He looked like he didn’t know where to stand.

You watched him scratch the back of his neck. “I know you’ve been weird with me all week.”

You gave him a look. “Wow. Subtle.”

He laughed — soft, sheepish. “Okay, yeah, I mean. It’s kinda obvious.”

You sat on the edge of the couch, pulling your knees up under you. “So what are you here for?”

“I… don’t really know.” He looked at you, then down at his shoes. “I’ve just been thinking. A lot. About that night.”

Your heart did a weird skip thing.

He wasn’t drunk now. His voice was steady. Careful. Which somehow made it worse.

“What about it?” you asked.

He sat down — not next to you, but across from you, on the armchair. Like there was some unspoken rule now. A line he wasn’t sure he could cross again.

“I didn’t remember anything the next morning,” he said slowly. “And I didn’t wanna make it worse by guessing. I didn’t wanna be that guy who’s like, ‘Did we…?’ you know?”

You just nodded.

“So I played it off like I didn’t know anything,” he said. “Because I was scared. And I thought maybe you wanted to pretend it didn’t happen.”

“I didn’t,” you said quickly. “Well—I didn’t know what you wanted. And I wasn’t gonna be the idiot who brings it up just to be like, ‘Hey, by the way, I think I caught feelings while you were blackout making out with me.’”

He let out a breath. Something between a laugh and a sigh.

“I didn’t mean to forget,” he said. “And I definitely didn’t mean to make you feel forgotten.”

You glanced at him. “But you do remember now?”

He nodded. “Bits and pieces. Enough. You in my lap. Your shirt coming off. You looking at me like…”

“Like what?” you asked, quieter now.

“Like I wasn’t just your best friend anymore.”

That shut you up for a second.

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

“Was I wrong?”

You didn’t know how to answer that. Because no, he wasn’t wrong. But this wasn’t exactly how you imagined this moment would go. You weren’t supposed to be in your oldest sweatpants with a bag of chips between you and zero clue what to say.

“I don’t know,” you said honestly. “I don’t know what it was supposed to mean.”

He tilted his head. “What did it mean to you?”

You hesitated. “That I trust you. That I care about you. And that maybe I was hoping you meant what you said.”

“I did,” he said quickly. “I just… said it at the worst possible time.”

You gave him a look. “You think?”

He smiled, almost shy. “I’m serious. I’ve probably been in love with you longer than I’ve realized. That night just ripped the bandaid off.”

There was a long, awkward beat.

Then he added, “You know, in a very sexy, very emotionally chaotic way.”

You snorted — actual laughter slipping out. The first real one all week.

He grinned. “There she is.”

You sighed, burying your face in your hands for a second. “This is so dumb.”

“Yeah,” he said. “But I’d still rather be dumb with you.”

You peeked up at him. “So what now?”

He shrugged. “We could stop avoiding each other. Maybe hang out again. Maybe kiss when I’m not drunk this time?”

You raised a brow. “You sure you can handle that?”

He smirked. “You’re the one who jumped me last time.”

“I did not—” you started, throwing a pillow at him, and he caught it, laughing.

And just like that, the air shifted.

Still uncertain. Still complicated.

But not broken.

Not anymore.

[missaengg]

Love Next Door: A Skyhaven Conundrum

Pairing: Caleb x f!reader Tags: nsfw - suggestive and language, eventual smut, developing relationship, modern au, use of pipsqueak and princess, use of oppa, humor/slight crack, featuring mom's-best-friend's-son/next door neighbor Caleb Word Count: 6.6k In which you face the aftermath of your last mortifying encounter with Caleb and discover that perhaps there's more to your fantasies... A/N: Part 2 of what I am now dubbing the "Love Next Door" series! Much thanks to @wistfulwanderingone for helping me outline the series, beta reading, and for KEEPING ME SANE throughout the process! And to @candiedcoffeedrops for beta reading and breathing new life into my motivation whilst writing the second part to this mini series! I love and appreciate you both so so very much 🥰

Part 1

It’s silly.

You know it’s silly.

Doors are inanimate objects. Their sole function is to act as an entrance or an exit. They can’t think. They can’t emote. And they most certainly can’t mock you.

But this particular door is different.

This particular door belongs to Caleb’s apartment.

And this particular door, you swear, is judging the ever living shit out of you.

You hate it…or maybe you love it because it’s currently the only thing separating you from Caleb. This being the first time you’ll be seeing him since…the garage incident…of which you do not speak.

It wasn’t your idea to come visit Caleb. Quite the contrary. If anything, you would’ve been more than happy to never see him again for the rest of your life—not after what happened during your last encounter. But your mom being your mom, had packed a disgustingly excessive amount of food for her “son” because “he’s all by himself in Skyhaven and starving to death”, insisting that you personally deliver the food to him despite your rather vocal protests that he’s a grown ass man and a far better cook than you.

Which is precisely how, instead of spending the day joyfully away from Caleb, you’ve found yourself here. In front of his apartment. Fidgeting. Sweating. With only that stupid, offensive door keeping you from being in his presence.

Laughing at you.

Glowering at his door, you shift your weight from one foot to the other, chewing on your bottom lip and rolling your shoulder to ease the fatigue from the comically overstuffed bag you’re holding—somehow still intact despite looking as though it might burst at the seams from the slightest of jostles. You raise a hesitant fist to knock on his door, only to lower it immediately, repeating the cycle a few times before letting it fall listlessly back to your side.

How? How are you supposed to face him again after what happened? How are you supposed to pretend that nothing happened? That he didn’t catch you having a humiliating, visceral reaction to his deliciously chiseled, Greek god-like body…?

And if the incident itself wasn’t mortifying enough, the explicit wet dreams that followed have plagued you, slowly depriving you of your sleep and your sanity. The number of…showers you’ve had to take. The questioning glances your parents have given you as you took your third shower of the day.

Maddening…Absolutely maddening…

Squaring your shoulders and taking in a deep breath, you muster as much courage as you can scrape because…well, it’s not like you can stand there forever. And also because your mom would kill you if you returned without personally delivering the food.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The silence that follows is suffocating, hanging in the air like the humidity of a muggy summer day.

Anticipation and dread churn in the pit of your stomach, twisting your organs into painful knots. Time drags on as you wait, your throat holding your breath captive, each passing second feeling even more stifling than the last.

Why the hell is it taking so long for him to open his door?

After what feels like an eternity—though realistically, it was probably closer to a few minutes at most, the door hinges open. Your face contorts into a scowl, ready to greet your mom’s-best-friend’s-son, childhood friend with some snarky comment about not being his errand boy.

But the snark withers away before you can even utter a single word.

Because when the door opens, you’re face to face with the most beautiful man tits you’ve ever seen in your life.

Caleb’s man tits.

Have they always been this breathtakingly magnificent?

You know you must look like a fool with your mouth hanging open and your eyes bugging out, but you can’t stop staring. You can’t help it! In your defense, it would be hard for anyone to stop staring when subjected to such a luscious view of glorious, firm, meaty mounds. Mounds dotted with a set of perky, pink nipples just begging to be sucked. Mounds connected to a—at present—naked Caleb, fresh out of the shower and dressed in only a low-slung towel, his hair still wet and slicked back, dripping water onto his broad shoulders.

A wayward drop slides down his shoulder, and your eyes unwittingly trace its descent—down past the necklace nestled in the divet between his tits, down past his abs and his belly button, all the way down to where a faint trail of dark hair begins.

Oh, what you would do to be that drop of water…

Your thighs quiver, trembling in their need to rub together and relieve the growing ache in your weeping sex. Thankfully, a single brain cell has somehow managed to retain its lucidity, saving you from embarrassing yourself in front of Caleb. Again.

Why? Out of all the outfit choices you had in your closet this afternoon, what demon possessed you to believe it would be a good idea to wear a short skirt to see Caleb? Have you learned nothing from the last time you saw him?!

“Pipsqueak?” Caleb’s deep voice cuts through the absolute insanity overtaking your malfunctioning brain. “What’re you doin’ here?”

Blinking rapidly, you awkwardly hold up the bag as your brain takes a moment too long to catch up. “My mom made you food.”

Caleb’s attention flitters to the bag, a stoked smile forming on his lips—lips you want to catch between your teeth and nibble…

Oh god, brain, please stop…

“It’s really heavy,” you mumble, shaking the bag as best you can considering its weight. “You gonna let me in or what?”

“Ah, sweet,” Caleb drawls, pulling the door wide open. “Perfect timing. I was just cravin’ your mom’s cooking.”

He invites you in, and as you step inside, the steam radiating from his post-shower body curls around you, enveloping you in the overpowering scent of his body wash. He smells clean. Fresh, with a woody undertone. Manly.

It takes every ounce of willpower you have not to rip that goddamn towel off of him.

“You mind putting that in the kitchen?” Caleb asks, shutting the door. “I’ll take care of it after I get dressed.”

“Sure,” you mutter, distracted by your woeful endeavor to conceal how flustered you are by the sight of his gorgeous, bare chest. “Anywhere on the counter?”

“Yep,” he calls out behind him, already halfway to his bedroom.

As soon as Caleb disappears, you mindlessly shuffle into his pristine kitchen and plop the ridiculously loaded bag on the dark marble countertop. Letting out a sound somewhere in between a feeble whimper and a whine, you crumble, bracing yourself on the counter as your knees give out, praying the cool marble will ease the fire ravaging your out of control cunt, rendering your underwear useless.

But it does fuck all to abate the fire.

Not even a little.

Cursing under your breath, you weigh your options. While Skyhaven is only a short train ride away from Linkon City, it would still take over an hour to get home to your blissful shower head, which frankly, is an hour too long, and while you do have the option of using Caleb’s…you would rather die than utilize his.

You need some other way to cool down.

Fast.

Before this heat kills you.

Ice. Yes, you’re a genius, ice. A mouthful of ice should do the trick. Nothing like chewing on ice to ease sexual frustration—at least that’s what they say, right?

Rushing to Caleb’s fridge, you rip the freezer door open only to find… nothing. No ice. None, whatsoever. Not even an ice crumb.

Fuck.

Water then. While less than ideal, cold water will have to do. Or any cold beverage. It doesn’t matter what as long as it’s cold. Frantic, you dig through his fridge searching for anything that might calm your burning loins.

Nothing.

How is it possible for the inside of his fridge to be like a cold Sahara desert?!

You’re on the verge of ripping every single strand of your hair out when you spot it, sitting by its lonesome self at the very back of the top shelf, hidden behind a hunk of beef.

A single can of cold beer.

Driven by desperation, you grab the can, wasting no time popping the tab and bringing it to your lips, downing the entire thing in giant gulps. Only once it's empty do you stop, exhaling and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

Refreshing.

And from the subsiding fever in your lower body, the answer to your prayers.

Thank fucking god.

“Pipsqueak, what’re you doin’?”

Startled, you jump, twirling around like a teenager caught raiding their parents’ liquor cabinet. You scramble to think of some excuse to explain yourself, but as soon as your eyes settle on Caleb, your mouth drops open yet again. Because for some unknown reason, he’s still shirtless despite changing into a pair of sweatpants.

Before the sight of Caleb’s tits can undo the magic of the beer you just drank, you squeeze your eyes shut, angling your body away as if to preserve his modesty instead of your own sanity. “Why the fuck are you not wearing a shirt?!”

“Why’re you being weird?” Caleb snorts derisively, and though you can’t see him, you’re certain he’s doing that thing he does where he arches an eyebrow and crosses his arms. “You’ve seen me without a shirt on all the time.”

That…is true. You have seen Caleb without a shirt on before. Many, many times. But never, in all those times, have you been so affected. Never, in all those times, have you felt the urge to raze the landscape of his naked torso with sinful, red blemishes…

“That—” you sputter, “That was when we were kids!”

“Pipsqueak, what’s going—Whoa, why the hell are you havin’ a beer?”

Shit.

Say something. 

Quick.

“I was thirsty.”

Not quite the complete truth, but not quite a complete lie either.

You crack one eye open, peeking at him to gauge whether he’s bought it.

Caleb narrows his eyes. “So you had…a beer?”

“You had nothing else to drink,” you retort, shooting him a reproachful look as you turn back to face him.

Caleb tilts his head towards the sink as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “The sink is right there.”

“I wanted something cold. You need to stock your fridge or something ‘cause this,” you gesture to his fridge, “is just pathetic.”

“Water is free.”

“And you make a decent enough salary to have something on hand for guests, butt munch.”

“Okay, okay, okay.” Caleb raises his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll make sure my fridge is stocked to your satisfaction the next time you unexpectedly come by. Happy?” Without waiting for your response, he grins, his eyes twinkling with mirth. “But seriously, butt munch? What’re you, five?”

Ugh, of all the insults you could throw at him, why butt munch? You haven’t used that insult since you were in middle school!

Bristling, you double down, stubbornly lifting your chin. “What’s wrong with butt munch?

“Nothing,” Caleb laughs. “Nothing at all, Pipsqueak.”

Caleb pops the ‘p’ in ‘Pipsqueak’ causing your hand to twitch, itching to smack him.

Deep breaths…Deep breath in…Deep breath out…You are not choosing violence today. Not today. Your situation is already precarious enough as it is.

As you remind yourself to remain civil, which can be difficult to do sometimes considering it’s Caleb, you miss him eyeing the can you’re holding until he swipes it from your hand.

“Hey!” You lunge for the can, but he holds it just out of reach, sticking out his tongue as your hands grasp nothing, but air. “Give it—” you lunge again, “back!”

Why the hell is he so freakishly tall?!

You can only helplessly watch as Caleb shakes the empty can by his ear—evidence of your shame—and frown when no liquid can be heard sloshing around.

“Pipsqueak, did you just drink an entire beer?”

“Yes,” you bluntly state, planting your hands on your hips. “So?”

“Aren’t you…Aren’t you a lightweight?”

You scowl, feeling your blood pressure skyrocket so high you fear you might have a stroke. “For your information, jerk face, my tolerance has gone up significantly since we last drank together.”

Caleb stares at you for a moment before doubling over, raucous guffaws violently racking his body. “Jerk face?” he gasps, struggling to catch his breath in between bursts of uncontrolled laughter.

Seriously, what is with you and juvenile insults today?

It’s gotta be the man tits. His stupid man tits are clearly robbing you of your ability to think.

“Yes, jerk face,” you snap. “Also, not that it’s any of your business, but I’m no longer nineteen and new to drinking.”

“Sure, whatever you say, Pipsqueak,” Caleb snickers, reaching out to tweak the tip of your nose with a cheeky grin. “That’s not what your face is sayin’ though. Your face is almost as red as when I caught you starin’ at my ass.”

And there it is…the bane of your existence…the incident he’ll never let you forget for the rest of your pathetic life.

“Oh my god!” You swat his arm away, glaring at him with a scathing indignance. “So what if I did?”

Caleb lumbers forward, invading your personal bubble, forcing you to stumble back until your lower spine bumps the counter. In a disturbing re-enactment of your last encounter, he leans forward, leveling his gaze with you. He places both of his palms on the counter’s edge, effectively trapping you between his arms.

His voice dips into a silky murmur. “You should stare at my ass more often.”

That bastard.

Of course he’s enjoying riling you up and watching you get flustered.

“Knock it off, Caleb,” you warn.

“Why should I?” Caleb asks, innocently poking your cheek. “You’re adorable when you blush.”

“Caleb, stop! You’re being—”

“Being what?”

“You’re being annoying!”

“Oh?”

Caleb leans in even further, holding your gaze as if challenging you to a game of who’ll look away first. Refusing to give him the satisfaction, you meet his challenge, staring deep into his purple eyes with a brazen insolence. While you’re the perfect picture of defiance on the outside, your inside tells a different story as your heart begins to race, thundering in your ears, and your throat constricts, making it difficult to breathe.

Too close. He’s too fucking close. Close enough that you can count the number of freckles dotting his sun-baked cheeks. Close enough that you can smell his natural musk beneath the fragrance of his body wash. Close enough that if you were to lean forward just an inch, you could press your lips to his and taste him…

“Why do you even care? You have girls staring at your ass all the time, Mr. Hotshot Pilot!” you blurt, practically shouting.

Stunned, Caleb draws back, his eyes wide, his lips slightly parted. You freeze, your own face mirroring his expression, also surprised by the amount of vitriol you just spewed. Surprised by the undercurrent of frustration and…jealousy you’re feeling.

“Whatever,” you grumble, glancing away. “My mom told me to bring you food. I brought you your damn food.” You gruffly shove his arm out of the way, creating an opening for you to wiggle out from between the counter and his tree-trunk of a body, more than eager to make your escape. 

Caleb’s arm falls back to the counter, where he remains motionless. “I never said I don’t care,” he whispers, so quietly you barely catch what he said.

What does that even mean? Does he mean the act itself or you, the person who was doing the staring? Your footsteps falter, abandoning their mad dash for freedom. “What?”

“I said, I—” Caleb sighs, his shoulders slumping forward. “Never mind.” 

You wait to see if he’ll continue, but he stays silent, his mouth pressed together into a thin line, his brows tightly knit together, his attention fixed on the marble before him. When it becomes apparent he has nothing more to say, you mutter, “Whatever. I’m going home.”

“No—” Caleb pushes off the counter, following you out of the kitchen. “C’mon, Pipsqueak, you just got here. Have dinner with me.”

Had this been any other day, you would’ve stayed. You love Caleb’s cooking. But not tonight. Tonight is about self-preservation. Tonight, you have to get out of here before you do something you’ll regret, something that would irrevocably change the course of your friendship with Caleb.

“I’m not hungry,” you lie, hastening your pace. “I’ll just eat when I get home.”

“Wait—” Caleb catches your wrist, preventing you from progressing any further to the exit—another act eerily reminiscent of the last time you saw him, almost as if he’s intentionally trying to recreate your last encounter. 

“Caleb, let go.”

“No,” he says petulantly, wearing a mischievous grin, but there’s a tension in his jaw that betrays his carefree attitude. “Why’re you in such a hurry to get home anyway? You got a hot date or somethin’?”

Being around Caleb when he’s like this tends to bring out the brat in you and sensing an opportunity to rile him up for a change, you shoot back, “Yeah, the hottest.”

Caleb’s expression instantaneously darkens, and his grip around your wrist hardens. A possessiveness you’ve never seen before radiates from him in dense waves. Despite his relentless teasing, Caleb has always been gentle and patient, but this is new. Different. The turbulent storm brewing in his eyes should scare you, but it doesn’t. If anything, it excites you. Even more than you were.

“Well, too bad, it’s cancelled,” Caleb growls, jerking you towards him. “Cause I’m not sendin’ you on a date with some jackass drunk.”

“Caleb, I can handle myself just fine. And I’m not a child. I can drink a beer without getting drunk,” you argue, your voice an octave higher than you intended. “And who the hell do you think you are telling me what I can and can’t—”

Just then, a vein of lightning streaks across the sky, casting an ominous glow across Caleb’s face. A giant crack of thunder soon follows, booming through the apartment, causing you to flinch.

No. No, no, no. No. This can’t be happening. You checked the weather forecast this morning. You checked. It said nothing about rain, let alone a thunderstorm. But fuck, if it’s storming, that means—

“Flights are going to be cancelled, aren’t they?”

Something sinister flashes through Caleb’s eyes as he regards you in a manner that tickles your burgeoning desire. “Yeah, ‘fraid so.”

“It’s not gonna end anytime soon, is it?”

“Nope. Looks like it’s just you and me, Pipsqueak.”

Great, just great.

Stuck in Caleb’s apartment overnight with your raging hormones and his luscious man tits.

A strangled wail of despair erupts from somewhere deep within you, and Caleb promptly pulls you into his arms, mistaking your guttural panic for your fear of thunderstorms.

While it’s true that you fear thunderstorms—something about the way the dark clouds drown out the light, the way lighting flashes in the sky, and the way the wind howls and rattles the windows—it’s the least of your worries at the moment. What you need is to get away from the sexual temptation that is Caleb and home to your magical shower head!

“Hey, it’s okay,” Caleb murmurs, cradling your head against his chest, burying your face between his tits—the same tits currently driving you to the brink of combusting. He holds you so tight you can’t even turn your head, not even to free your nose from being squished. His breath tickles the shell of your ear as he pats your back in a steady, soothing rhythm, just as he did when the two of you were kids. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

Every part of your body is intertwined with his, almost as if your bodies are melting together into one—to the point it's difficult to discern where you end and he begins.

The soft murmur of his voice. The calming cadence of his heart. The bewitching scent of his natural musk. The searing warmth of his body. The impressive bulge of his dick…

They muddle all of your senses and sensibilities. 

It’s dizzying. Perplexing. Exhilarating. And yet his embrace feels like the most natural thing in the world, as if you belong in his arms. His embrace feels like home.

It’s the most wonderful feeling.

And the most dangerous.

Perturbed by this new revelation—and by your overwhelming urge to rut against him like a dog in heat—you wrench yourself out of his arms, unintentionally shoving him back in the process. Caleb staggers back, his arms still hanging in the air as he studies you with an expression of utter bafflement. You look away, clearing your throat and sheepishly rubbing your arms. The sudden loss of his warmth causes you to shiver, which in true Caleb fashion, he clocks instantly.

“You’re going to catch a cold in that skirt,” Caleb muses, more to himself than for you to hear.

Grimacing, you glance down at your bare legs, tugging on the hem of your skirt. Of course he noticed. But…isn’t that what you wanted? Isn’t that why you wore this skirt to begin with?

Who the hell knows anymore…

“Why don’t you go wash up?” Caleb suggests, gently nudging you in the direction of his bathroom. “I’ll bring you a change of clothes.”

In a daze, you nod, absentmindedly stumbling down the hallway at Caleb’s prompting. One foot in front of the other, plodding along on autopilot while your brain tries to make sense of what’s changed. While you still want nothing more than for him to fuck you senseless, something had shifted. It wasn’t just about wanting to fuck him anymore, there was something else, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

Why did his embrace feel like home? Why did you want to stay wrapped in his arms forever, hoping he never lets go? And why now, instead of all the previous times he’s held you before? 

He was still just Caleb, for god’s sake—annoying, infuriating, juvenile, mom’s-best-friend’s-son, childhood friend Caleb who got under your skin every chance he had. But the sexual lunacy aside, he wasn’t just Caleb anymore. He was…Caleb.

“Guess you’re going to have to cancel that date, huh?”

Between the vexing arousal running rampant in your sex and the confounding chaos of what else you might be feeling, your brain only vaguely registers Caleb’s question drifting after you. Before your brain can sync with your mouth, you answer, “There was no date.”

“What?”

Caleb’s ask for clarification hurtles you back into the present, and you wince, realizing what you just admitted. Well, no use hiding it now. You’ve already said it.

Heaving a sigh of resignation, you turn to face him. “I said, there was no date.”

A look of surprise crosses Caleb’s face for a split second, and then his face lights up like a child on Christmas morning, his eyes crinkling with what appears to be sheer joy. “Were you…Were you trying to make me jealous, Pipsqueak?” 

You purse your lips, fixing him with a withering stare. “Not even in the slightest, asshole.”

“I mean, it’s okay if you were,” Caleb sings with a cocky, self-satisfied smirk. “You’ve got nothin’ to worry about, Princess. You’re the only Pipsqueak for me.”

“...Shut up, Caleb.” 

Expelling an exasperated grunt, you swiftly flip back around, making it your number one mission to reach your destination—away from him. Caleb’s chuckles float after you, but you don’t dare look back. Not even once. Not even as you enter his bathroom and shut the door.

It’s only once you're inside and the door locked that you allow yourself to relax, releasing the breath you didn’t know you were holding in the form of a long, suffering sigh.

Why did you do that, admit that there had been no date, that you made it up?

And…why did he look so overjoyed?

Dismissing the notion that his joy carried any deeper meaning, you cross over to the shower and turn on the water. Knowing Caleb, it likely meant nothing. He was probably just overjoyed to have more arsenal in which to torment you in his pocket.

“I left a change of clothes outside the door.” Speaking of the devil, Caleb’s chipper voice drifts into the bathroom. “Take your time. I’ll be in the living room.”

“Okay, thanks.”

You wait for the creak of his floor as a sign he’s walked away before slipping out of your clothes, loosely folding each item and placing them in a pile on the vanity. You slip out of your underwear last, quietly groaning at how dark the gusset is compared to the rest of the garment—a pitiful reminder of how hysterically depraved you become around him.

Making a face, you place your underwear with the rest of your clothes, and as you look up, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Your hair is disheveled as if Caleb had run his fingers through them. Your lips are swollen as if you were biting them in restraint to stifle your moans. Your cheeks are flushed a rosy pink as if in the throes of passion.

Caleb standing behind you, his hands on your shoulders. Gliding them down your arms as he presses kiss after kiss to the crook of your neck. Leaving behind lovely, little bruises as if to say, “she belongs to me”. A calloused hand cupping and kneading your breast while his thumb rolls your hardened nipple. His other hand sliding between your legs, gathering your arousal on his finger.

His mouth breathlessly moaning your name and hoarsely whispering, “I love you”…

Holy shit, what was that?!

Horrified, you snap out of your lust-fueled reverie, dragging your hands across your face and digging the heels of your palms into your eyes.

God, you must really need that shower or something because clearly you are losing it. There could be no other explanation. You are losing your damn mind, and it’s all because of Caleb and his goddamn sex appeal.

Aggravation rippling in your throat, you step into the shower, welcoming the warm cascade of water falling on you like a gentle rain, but it does nothing to relieve the turmoil roiling through your lower body or your mind. It can’t. Not by itself. Not without some assistance.

Caleb’s detachable shower head looms above you, shining through the steam like a lighthouse in the midst of a foggy afternoon as if guiding you to your solution. Goading you into using it for a depraved means other than its intended purpose.

It’s tempting. So very tempting. Caleb’s bathroom is most definitely not an appropriate location for what you have in mind, especially with the risk of being discovered by the cause of your distress—which would only then serve to add to your distress. You know you shouldn’t, but…

Fuck it.

It’s not like you have much of a choice—not if you want to survive spending the night with Caleb.

You grasp the shower head, freeing it from its perch, and position it between your thighs. You gasp as the stream hits your swollen clit and bite down on your knuckles to keep from crying out, suppressing the subdued whimpers threatening to escape. After all the pent up frustration, the pressure feels good—more than good, it feels amazing.

As the water works its magic, your imagination returns unbidden to where it was before—Caleb moaning your name. His erection digging into your lower back. His finger slipping through your folds and gathering your slick, shuddering at how wet you are for him. His finger sliding to your clit and stroking it in languid circles, teasing you before plunging deep into your waiting cunt.

A stifled cry squeaks past your knuckles as you feel the familiar tightening of your abdomen. As the coil winds taut, your cunt clenches around nothing. Your muscles tense in anticipation. Your head lolls back, your mouth in the shape of a silent ‘O’. And then you let go, your breaths coming out in short puffs. Your legs turning to jelly. Your eyes rolling back as you’re overtaken by a burst of ecstasy. Waves of pure, unadulterated pleasure coursing through you as sparks traverse your body. All while you hear Caleb murmuring a throaty “good girl” as you come for him.

The shower head lingers between your legs while you ride out your orgasm. And through another. And another.

It takes three rounds for you to lose the deranged absurdity clouding your judgement and for the unbridled fervor to wane. Three rounds to drain yourself to a state of exhaustion—enough that you’ll hopefully remain clearheaded and sane when back in Caleb’s presence. 

Your feverish insanity now satiated, you wash up and get dressed in the clothes Caleb left for you—a plain, cotton T-shirt and a pair of soft pajama pants, both of which hang loosely off your frame. You emerge from the sauna his bathroom has turned into, padding to his living room. Caleb doesn’t notice you enter, and you don’t make a point to announce your arrival either. You quietly observe him, still shirtless, lounging on his sofa with a headset on his head and a controller in his hands, one foot propped up on the coffee table. 

It’s been a while since you last saw him so engrossed in a video game with his friends, playing some first-person shooter game he had you try once. Back then, it annoyed you how absorbed he’d become because he’d ignore you for hours, but now, you find it endearing. Not only did it prevent him from noticing how long you took in his shower, he looked…adorable, laughing at something his friend said as he quipped something equally as childish back.

Caleb’s attention flickers in your direction, his face lighting up when he notices you by the entrance. “You’re done?” he beams, lowering the controller and sitting up, dropping his leg to the floor. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want to bother you,” you respond with a shrug, unexpectedly feeling shy of all things.

“That’s ridiculous. You’re never bothering me.” Caleb gives you a lopsided grin so cute your heart skips a beat, but before you can process your reaction, his attention is back on the TV. “Yo, I gotta go.” He pauses, listening to something being said on the other end. “Yeah, that’s right. Your boy’s got a girl over. Be jealous, assholes.”

Out of reflex, you roll your eyes, but you can’t help wondering…

Does he mean “girl” as in you? 

Does he see you as a woman the same way you’ve been seeing him as a man? Could it be that he sees you as something more than just a “little sister” or even a friend?

The thought causes your heart to flutter. Something unfamiliar blooms in your chest, filling it with…hope? Or longing? Some strange emotion you’ve never associated with Caleb before. Not like this.

“Pfft, nah, it’s just Pipsqueak,” Caleb sniggers. “Seriously though, I gotta go.”

And just like that, the fragile illusion—or delusion—shatters, deflating the unidentified emotion budding in your chest, which confuses you because why did you “flate” to begin with?

You’re reeling from this new development when Caleb suddenly frowns. “No, fuck you. I’m not giving you her number,” he snarls, venom dripping from every word. “Not cool, man. Whatever, I'm gone. See ya.” He rips the headset off his head and tosses it onto the coffee table before turning off his TV system. “Assholes.”

Gingerly taking a seat on the couch as far away from him as you can without appearing unnatural, you study him curiously, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. “What did your friends say?”

“Nothing,” Caleb mutters, brooding at the dark screen.

“Didn’t seem like nothing,” you prod carefully.

“It’s nothing.” Caleb shakes off his mood, giving you a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about it.” He reaches out to ruffle your hair, but his frown returns when he notices the towel wrapped around your head. “You didn’t dry your hair.”

“Hm?” You look up, brushing your fingers along the damp fabric. “Oh, yeah, I didn’t feel like it.”

Caleb gives you that look, one you know all too well—the mother hen look that always comes with a side of nagging. “You’re going to catch a cold like that, Pipsqueak,” he chides, heaving himself off the couch. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

“No, that’s okay—” you begin, but Caleb’s already on the move. “Caleb, it’s fine!”

Your protests fall on deaf ears, and as Caleb disappears into his bathroom, you click your tongue, following it with a tiny chuff of laughter. Typical Caleb. Scolding you about your wet hair, just like he used to before he went off to college.

Caleb quickly returns and plugs the dryer into the outlet. He comes around the side of the sofa and takes a seat, patting the cushion next to him. “Come here. I’ll dry it for ya. Just like old times.”

You hesitate, contemplating whether it would be wise for you to sit next to him in such close proximity, but…he’s just drying your hair. It’s perfectly innocent. Plus, you’ve pacified your raging hormones so it should be fine, right?

Despite your apprehension, you comply, scooching down until you’re sitting in front of him with your back to his chest. Caleb unwraps the towel from your head and sets it aside. Then he turns the dryer on to the lowest setting, checking the temperature on his palm before directing it to your scalp.

“Remember?” he asks. “I used to do this for you all the time.”

“Mmm,” you hum in agreement, basking in the sensation of his fingers combing through your hair and brushing along your scalp. It’s a sensation that’s both familiar and soothing, evoking memories of how often he would do this for you growing up. And by often, you mean often because you were notoriously awful at drying your own hair. You still don’t understand why it’s such a big deal. It’s just hair. It’ll dry just fine on its own, but Caleb would scold you, insisting that you’ll get sick, and force you to sit down so he could dry it. 

Just like he is now.

Feeling his fingers tousling your crown, it dawns on you how much you’ve missed this.

“It really has been a while, hasn’t it?” Curious, you tilt your head back, musing at the ceiling through half-lidded eyes. “Why did you stop?”

Caleb’s hand stills—a momentary pause before he guides your head back to its original position. “We got older,” he replies with no further explanation.

Squinting, you mull over his answer. “Why would that change anything?”

Caleb softly sighs. “It just did, Pipsqueak, okay?”

Feeling unsatisfied, you scrunch your face and pucker your lips, but sensing his reluctance, you don’t press any further. A part of you rationalizes that it’s because you want to honor his boundaries, but if you’re being honest, it’s mostly because you’re not sure you’re ready to hear the answer either. The uncertainty of what he might say scares you.

Caleb clicks the dryer off and gives your hair one last ruffle. “Okay, done.”

“Already?” You twist around to face him, shooting him an impish smile. “You didn’t leave it looking like a bird’s nest, did you?” you accuse him playfully.

“Please,” Caleb scoffs, a half-amused smirk tugging on the corner of his lip. “I am the master at drying your hair.”

“Uh huh,” you hum, narrowing your eyes at him in mock disbelief.

Caleb merely quirks an eyebrow in response, holding your gaze as if to dare you to say otherwise. It’s only then you realize how close you’re sitting next to him. How close his face is to yours for the second time that evening.

As if he realizes it himself, Caleb swallows. Hard. Your eyes flicker to his lips—the same lips that have haunted your dreams—where you detect what appears to be a tiny quiver. As if he’s just as nervous as you.

And then you feel it—your heart stuttering in your chest before fluttering wildly against your ribs like a captive bird trying to escape its cage. 

Ba-dump…Ba-dump…Ba-dump…

Your lungs refuse to work, depriving you of oxygen. They’re only capable of taking in shallow breaths, which you attribute as the cause of the intoxicating dizziness shrouding your head. Without thinking, your lips part, and as if drawn to him through his gravitational Evol, you lean forward. Slowly. Inch by inch. Closer and closer, wavering just short of your lips meeting.

Caleb stiffens, his breath hitching in his throat. But as if he too is under a spell, he’s unable to break the trance binding you together. His free hand curls into the fabric of his pants. His eyes tremble with a hesitant uncertainty. But his gaze remains fixed on you.

Time screeches to a halt. 

Holding your breath, you search his gaze, silently imploring whether he too wants to cross that line. A line you’ve never considered crossing even in the face of your most deviant fantasies. A line that, if crossed, would change the course of your friendship forever. A line that leads to a new world, unexplored and potentially perilous.

But he has yet to pull away, and you wonder…you wonder…you wonder…perhaps he wants this just as much as you.

As if compelled by a siren’s song, you surrender. You creep forward in timid, imperceptible whispers with your eyes half-closed and your lips softly parted, ardently seeking his touch. But before your lips can meet, Caleb falters. He pulls away, exhaling a shaky breath of air disguised as a chuckle before putting on a tentative smile.

“I should…I should go make dinner before it gets too late.” Caleb gets up from the couch, unplugging the hair dryer and wrapping the cord around the nozzle. “You should call your mom to let her know you’re staying the night.”

The spell breaks.

You wake from what feels like a fever dream, and the gravity of what almost happened—what you almost did—sinks in. “Right, yeah—I should—Right—” Stammering, you clench your hands into fists, your fingernails biting into your palms. You scramble to your feet, your eyes darting about the room, your focus on anything but the man you almost kissed. “She’s going to worry—Need to—Gonna go—Need my phone—”

Your blood pounding in your ears and adrenaline coursing through your veins, you dart towards the guest bedroom under the guise of finding your phone, despite it being safely tucked away in your pocket.

Fuck, what was…what the flipping shit was that?! What were you thinking?! You weren’t thinking, that was the problem, but fuck…what the hell just happened?

You tell yourself it was because of your hormones. Just your damn hormones. Nothing else. Nothing more. But deep down you know it wasn’t. It wasn’t. It was something more than that. Something more tender and vulnerable and intimate. Something that terrifies you the more you linger on it. Something that you can’t deny any longer.

You don’t want to just fuck your mom’s-best-friend’s-son…you’ve developed feelings for him. Feelings you don’t fully understand. Feelings that change everything.

But…it wasn’t just you.

Caleb didn’t pull away either. Not at first. Like he wanted it too. Like he might also have feelings for you. And if that’s the case then…then things just got more complicated.

You’re in treacherous, uncharted territory.

But first…

First, you need to survive the night.

Survive the night, and then…and then you can deal with all this nonsense.

May God have mercy on your soul…

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[call-memissbrightside]

a/n: I believe Sukuna would be the WORST boyfriend ever | warnings: non-con mentioned, miscarriage, toxic relationship, yandere themes |

❌ he wouldn’t even ask you out properly— he frequently came into the urgent care you were interning in, injuries spanning from stab wounds to a fractured knuckle because he just had to beat up the drunk guy who was a little too touchy when you tried getting his vitals. One night he just announced, “taking you to a diner after your shift.” You don’t remember agreeing but still— he’s waiting for you when you step out at 4:30am. He’s sitting on the hood of his car, his sinister smirk making your heart drop. “Get in.”

You do, like a scared little bunny who stupidly falls into the wolf’s lap. Sukuna picked you up from every shift after that.

❌you don’t tell him you’re going home for the summer break. Why would you? Sukuna didn’t have your phone number — he never asked for it. He just stalked you, always around when you’d leave classes or just be in your apartment. you spend two months away, and you finally feel like yourself again. You file a police report against him. Your parents help you move. You feel like you’re starting a new chapter in your life. Only Sukuna knocks on your door only an hour after your parents left you on your own again.

“Little pig, little pig, let me in.”

You tried to shut the door— but Sukuna easily pushed back.

“What do you want from me?” You hated how easily he made you cry.

“I missed you.” He admitted so casually, like you were stupid to ask that.

“Leave me alone, please,” you begged, shocking him. You hadn’t begged in a long time — you learned quickly he never would listen to you.

“No.” Sukuna moves toward you, making you flinch. He pauses.

“You’re stuck with me,” he declares. “I don’t care if you’ll never love me, but you’re mine.”

You hold his hard gaze, an open sob leaving your chest. You knew he was telling the truth.

❌he hates labels, but will hate fuck you when his friend flirts with you during some bar crawl Sukuna dragged you too. Your cervix is bruised for weeks, and you called into work so much that they let you go but you were in so much pain that you couldn’t leave his bed. Sukuna doesn’t do aftercare. Asshole would even smack your already bruised ass — laughing when the pain made more tears fall down your face. He doesn’t do aftercare, but he’ll get you all the ice and weed to numb the pain that you need.

❌ You weren’t trying to have a baby. Sukuna sure as hell didn’t want any brats. It was an accident. you didn’t know you were pregnant— you stopped having your normal period months ago from all the stress your ‘relationship’ gives you. It happened after Sukuna got home plastered after spending a night out, where you were too tired to go with him and cried just enough to make him ago out alone.

You were in pain, thrashing on the bed and crying.

“Why the fuck are you crying again?” Sukuna’s temper immediately skyrocketed when he saw the water works.

“S-something’s wrong,” you were shaking, feeling a sudden warmth between my legs. Blood.

“You’re making a fucking mess in my bed!”

“I need help, please,” you begged. You wouldn’t put it past him to just leave you to bleed out.

Sukuna rolls his eyes, yanking you off the bed to take you to the hospital.

He moves you in with him shortly after your miscarriage.

a/n: honestly idk where this came from, I just kept thinking how Sukuna would be such a bad boyfriend 😭😅🫶

[idkyetxoxo]

Three | Where Smoke Lingered | Little Star

Pairing - Azriel x reader

Word count - 2.2k

Warnings - Mentions of domestic abuse, slight angst

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The house had finally settled into silence. An oppressive, suffocating quiet that seemed to press against the walls like a breath held too long in the lungs waiting to collapse. 

Everyone had gone to bed, or at least to the semblance of sleep.

Amren had returned to her apartment in the city without a word. Mor had gone with her but she hadn't said goodbye either. The way her eyes had darted, catching on every shadow, every scrape on the wall, like she expected the house to shatter beneath her feet. 

She hadn't looked at me. Couldn't. As if my presence was too painful to acknowledge.

Cassian, Azriel, and Rhys had retreated to their rooms, each one taking their guilt and fury with them, no doubt combing over the wreckage of the night, grasping at broken threads, replaying words spoken and those that should have been. 

No one had followed me. No one had stopped him.

The small home library was dim when I stepped in, the faelight from the hallway casting long, shivering shadows across the spines of books I'd once loved. 

Everything was smaller somehow. Duller. Like the air itself had forgotten how to hold colour.

My breath caught violently in my chest as my gaze swept the room. Daeron stood by the fireplace. Still. Silent. 

The worst version of himself—the calm kind. 

That calm wasn't peace, it was control. Measured cruelty. The kind of stillness that only came before a storm or after something precious had already been broken.

His expression was unreadable, but there was a satisfaction to his stillness, a smugness to the silence that exuded from him. 

Something about it felt intentional, like he was waiting for me to fall apart, and he was already savouring the taste of it.

My eyes flicked to the windowsill with mounting dread, and the cold inside me turned to panic.

The book. My mother's book. My book.

It was gone.

The same one she gave me when I was little, the one that smelled like jasmine and old parchment and her. The one that had lived on that sill since the day she was murdered. 

I'd read it a hundred times, a thousand. Memorised the words not just on the page, but how they made me feel—safe, grounded, whole. A tether to a world where she still existed.

I moved without thinking. Fingers trembling, I tore through cushions and blankets, checked under tables, behind shelves, desperate and fumbling. I checked places it couldn't be, wouldn't be. 

I didn't care. I had to find it. It was more than a book. It was the last real piece of me.

All the while, he watched.

He watched me fall apart. Not with confusion or concern but interest. Like he was studying something. Like he was savouring the unravelling of something delicate.

"Where is it?" I asked finally, my voice a raw whisper. My throat burned. My chest ached. 

The air had thickened, turned noxious, and something inside me, something quiet and precious, began to crack under the weight.

He didn't answer at first.

Instead, he tilted his head and then slowly, deliberately pointed to the fireplace behind him.

I didn't understand at first. I didn't want to. But then the smell hit me. Burning leather. Charred paper. Memory turned to smoke.

I stumbled forward, my steps clumsy, my hands clutching at nothing. The flames licked hungrily at what remained. 

Blackened, curling pages. The gold embossing melted and twisted. The spine cracked and split, the story bleeding into flame. 

My mother's handwriting, the notes in the margins—ashes. All of it. Gone.

It wasn't just a book. It was her voice. Her warmth. Her comfort. Her love. And now it was smoke in my lungs, soot on my skin.

My knees almost gave out.

I turned to him with wide, disbelieving eyes. My magic, a thing I hadn't touched in years, fluttered weakly in my blood, responding to my grief like a ghost too long ignored.

He didn't flinch.

"Do not mourn too long," he said with a shrug, already turning his back, like what he'd done was inconvenient, trivial. At the doorway, he paused, one hand braced against the frame. "I expect you to pay for how your family treated me tonight. Come to your room when you're done with the weeping."

The words clawed at my insides.

"Why?" It left me without meaning to. Barely a breath, more ache than question.

He turned, eyes empty of remorse. "Don't pretend you don't know."

Then he was gone.

And I stood there alone, the scent of burning still clinging to the air, watching the ashes of my mother's voice dissolve into nothing.

That was the moment I understood, really understood what my family had been trying to make me see all these years.

He doesn't hurt me. He erases me completely.

The next morning, I woke to find him gone.

The room was quiet, sterile in its stillness, no trace of him left behind, save for the evidence etched into my skin.

Bruises bloomed like poisonous flowers across my thighs, ribs, wrists. My jaw ached from where his hand had gripped too tightly. My lip was split again, a thin line of dried blood cracking as I moved. 

But it wasn't the physical pain that hurt most. It was the silence inside me.

The kind of silence that only comes after you've screamed and screamed and screamed.

I moved like something newly dead, dressed in the dark with trembling fingers. I couldn't look in the mirror. I couldn't stay in that room where the walls still echoed with his voice and the smoke of my mother's book clung to the air like grief.

So I went to the kitchen.

The motions were automatic, muscle memory from a life that no longer belonged to me. My hands found the ingredients with the ease of habit. I didn't think. I just did. 

Chocolate chip cookies.

The kind Rhys always claimed he could smell from miles away. The kind Cassian would devour in seconds, crumbs on his shirt, chocolate on his grin.

The kind my mother used to make with me on quiet evenings, when everything felt okay.

I clung to that memory like a lifeline, like if I stirred the batter just right, if I measured perfectly, if I didn't drop a single grain of sugar—maybe I could still be that girl. The one before the erasure.

The timer beeped, breaking through the fog. I opened the oven door, expecting comfort.

Instead, the smell hit me first—burnt. Acrid. Wrong.

The cookies were blackened discs, charred beyond saving. I blinked at them, not understanding. 

I had made this recipe in my sleep. Hundreds of times. I knew it better than I knew myself.

I reached for the tray with my bare hands. The heat seared into my palms, but the pain didn't register.

I just stood there. Holding onto failure. Holding onto ashes again.

Then, warm hands, scarred hands took the tray from mine, gentle but firm, setting it on the counter with a hiss of cooling metal.

Azriel. I hadn't heard him come in. I didn't know how long he'd been watching. He said nothing.

Instead, he turned me gently toward him, his touch light like he thought I might shatter. Maybe I already had.

His hazel eyes met mine—seeing, not just looking. My own eyes burned, raw and red, not from the oven heat. My lip quivered.

Still, he didn't speak. Didn't ask.

He just wrapped his arms around me and held me.

My body sagged into his, a sob catching somewhere deep in my chest that wouldn't come out. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to go back. 

Before last night. Before the fireplace. Before him.

But all I could do was stand there, clinging to Azriel, my hands scorched and useless, my heart cracked open.

It wasn't fair. None of it was fair.

And maybe Azriel couldn't fix it. But he didn't try to.

He didn't offer hollow promises or quiet revenge. He just held me. A steady, silent shield against the wreckage I'd become.

My voice cracked as I finally spoke, the question tumbling out like a stone too heavy to carry any longer.

"Does he hate me?" I asked. "Is he... disappointed?"

I leaned back, just enough to see his face, Azriel's face, carved in the kind of stillness only someone who'd survived their own darkness could wear. 

Hazel eyes met mine. Steady. Searching.

Eyes I had known for years, eyes that had seen through me and past me and still stayed.

There was a shift in them now, soft and solemn. As if something had finally clicked into place. As if he was watching the version of me I had tried so long to hide begin to resurface—damaged, yes, but still here.

"Rhys could never hate you," Azriel said softly. The truth in his voice was absolute. "Not even close."

The shadows, his shadows, slipped from his skin to mine, curious and tender. They skimmed over my arms, brushing at my hands, whispering against my neck like they remembered me, too. Like they missed me.

Azriel's thumb grazed my bottom lip, feather-light, pausing at the cracked skin. His brows furrowed, not with anger but grief. His grief. For me.

Gentle hands. So unlike his. So unlike the last seven years.

"You don't have to carry all of it, you know."

I blinked, pulling back just enough to look at him. "What?"

He glanced down, then up again. "The guilt. The shame. The silence. None of it belongs to you."

I shook my head, a bitter laugh caught in my throat. "Doesn't feel that way."

"I know," he said simply. "But feeling it and deserving it aren't the same."

His voice wasn't soft for comfort, it was soft because he meant every damn word. Like he was giving me something delicate, he didn't think I'd believe.

"You didn't choose this," he continued. "It didn't happen because of you."

I swallowed hard. "I let it happen to him."

Azriel's jaw tensed, a flicker of something dark in his eyes, but not at me. Never at me.

I looked away, staring at the ruined cookies on the counter. 

"Az," I breathed, my voice thin against the weight of it all, ignoring the pulsing pain from my palms. It didn't matter now.

He hummed in response, quiet as the hush between heartbeats. "Yes?"

My gaze fell away from his, and yet the words rose unbidden, slipping from some hidden part of me that had never stopped hoping someone might understand.

"He erases me completely."

There it was. Laid bare. No metaphor. No veiled meaning. Just the truth.

I didn't know why I said it. I couldn't explain the reason or the timing or what part of me still had enough fight left to confess it. I just knew I had to say it—to him.

Azriel stilled.

I felt it in his body, in the way his breath caught, in the way his arms tightened just enough around me without ever hurting. 

And I felt it again in the small, silent ache that passed between us, shared like a secret.

His heart physically ached. I could feel it, like the shadows themselves carried the tremor of it.

And then he pulled me in again, closer this time. One hand stroking my hair, the way he had when I was younger. When Spring Court dreams turned to nightmares, when betrayal had carved a hollow so deep in my chest, I feared I would never feel warmth again.

He hadn't known what to say back then, either. But he had never needed to.

He just held me. Like now. Quietly. Surely. With a kind of love that didn't ask for anything in return.

Later, with my hands bandaged and raw, I found myself wandering back to the library, drawn to it like a tether I couldn't see. Something pulled at me, soft and persistent, threading its way through the hollowness that had taken up residence in my chest.

The moment I stepped through the doorway, I felt it.

The air had shifted.

Golden light poured through the tall windows, spilling over the spines of the books in long, honeyed stripes. Dust floated in slow circles, caught midair like falling stars. 

Everything looked the same. Familiar shelves, worn chairs, the quiet hum of stillness, but something was different. Something was waiting.

It sat on the windowsill, right where the original had always lived. The spot where I'd curled up countless nights, the place where stories had wrapped around me like blankets.

A book. Not the book. Not the one Daeron had burned to ash in the flames. That one was gone. Lost forever. But this...

This was a copy.

Bound in the same aged leather, edges worn like it had lived another life before finding its way to me. Wrapped neatly in a familiar blue ribbon. 

There was no note. No signature. Just this quiet offering, this breath of memory returned.

I hesitated. My fingers, still stinging beneath the gauze, trembled as I reached for it. I sank to the floor beneath the window, book in my lap, the ribbon slipping away like water through my hands.

I opened it slowly. The pages whispered as they turned, soft as a lullaby.

There it was. My favourite page. My mother's favourite line. The one she used to read with a smile in her voice and a tear in her eye. The one that had always felt like home.

Except now, beneath that line, something new had been written.

Delicate, careful script. Ink pressed just a little too hard into the page, like the writer's hand had been shaking.

"You are not what he did to you."

I stared at the words, and the world cracked wide open inside me.

Because I knew that handwriting. I would know it anywhere.

A/n - So we've further established that Daeron is a piece of shit x

I originally made her a baker just because I love baking but it ended up fitting the story so well, it's a perfect way to mirror her rise and fall!

Also there's a little easter egg hidden in this chapter for something coming later. I tried to keep it cryptic, so I doubt anyone will catch it... but if you do, we're basc on the same wavelength :)

As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts so please don’t be afraid to share them <3

(i’m posting this from my phone on vacation hopefully i didn’t fuck up the format 😭😭)

Little Star tag list - @jaybbygrl @writtenbypavani @fall-winter-heart97 @coeurdeveea @lilg101010 @krazykangaroo712 @moonlitlavenders @lil-lupa @jasmineee05 @pinksnowtiger @yourdarkrose @nerdybee123 @bookwormysblog @thoughtfulcoffeeflower @suspicious-stain-in-spain @anainkandpaper @theflowerswillbloom @queenoffeysand @historygeekqueen @lexi-in-wonderland

[hye5nly]

MONTRÉAL

西村力 x f!reader

synopsis in the quiet of a rainy night in Montreal, two lovers find themselves at a crossroads. Surrounded by the echoes of what they once were, they must confront the emotional distance that has grown between them. Set against the melancholic backdrop of a city filled with memories, their evening becomes a quiet battle between holding on and letting go— where love, silence, and truth collide.

genre angst, slice of life

warning smoking

The rain had started again— soft, steady, and indifferent, blurring the glow of Montréal’s streetlamps into gold smudges against the wet pavement. The hotel window trembled under the weight of the wind, and inside, the silence between Riki and you had grown loud enough to feel like a third person in the room.

He sat at the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, cigarette untouched between his fingers. He didn’t smoke anymore. Not really. But the ritual made him feel grounded, like the heat and the ash might tether him to something real. Something he was about to lose.

You stood by the window in his hoodie, the sleeves too long for your wrists. Your hair was tied up like you used to when you both would fall asleep tangled in each other. Your skin warm, promises whispered like secrets. You hadn’t said anything in fifteen minutes, maybe more. Your silence had grown careful, like you were afraid that speaking would break whatever was left.

“This place used to mean something,” Riki said, not looking at you.

A pause. Then, softly, “It did.”

He glanced up, eyes dull, voice low. “To me, it still does.”

You turned, slowly, your expression unreadable. “Then why do we only come back here when everything’s already broken?”

He didn’t have an answer. Or maybe he did, but it hurt too much to say out loud.

Because it was the only place where you ever stayed, even when you should’ve left.

Because here, the rest of the world blurred— the cameras, the noise, the weight of who they were outside that room. Here, they could pretend, just for a little longer, that love hadn’t unraveled thread by thread between quiet arguments and tired apologies.

“I’m tired, Riki,” you said, stepping closer. “Of waiting for you to meet me halfway.”

“I’ve tried,” he whispered.

“No,” you expressed, gently. “You’ve tried to keep me close enough not to lose me. But never close enough to really see me.”

He blinked hard, jaw clenched. “I don’t know how to be... better. I wasn’t raised with the kind of love you needed.”

“I never needed you to be perfect. I needed you to show up. Not just when things fell apart. Not just when you’re scared of being alone.”

The words hit like bruises. Not sharp, but deep. He stared at the floor, willing himself not to fall apart.

You stepped forward and sat beside him on the bed. For a moment, it was quiet. Then you reached for his hand. Held it. Warm, steady, final.

“I loved you,” you said, voice steady and soft. “So much I forgot how to love myself.”

“I still love you,” he whispered, the words rough in his throat.

But you just smiled. Soft, sad, beautiful. The kind of smile people give before letting go.

“You love the version of me you remember,” you whispered back. “Not the one standing in front of you now.”

Outside, the rain kept falling.

Inside, you stood up. Picked up your bag and walked to the door.

He didn’t move.

The speaker crackled softly on the dresser, the song he’d played for you a hundred times now barely audible.

“Je t’aime encore... je t’aime encore...”

You looked back one last time, your eyes holding everything he could never say out loud.

Then you left.

The door closed behind you with the quiet finality of a goodbye that had taken years to finish.

Riki sat in the silence, the cigarette now cold between his fingers, and whispered into the emptiness you’d left behind:

“I still love you, too.”

XO x enha m.list

copyright © hye5nly 2025 all rights reserved

[fallthelong]

Drabble AU: Sylus, Xavier x You

Prompt: His reaction when hearing from someone that you want to break up with him because you are mad at him (prank)

Notes:

- I am an ESL and not writing much lately so pardon me for any bad writing or grammatical errors

- it is my own view of them, so they might be OOC for others

- that is all, hope you will enjoy ❤️🥰

SYLUS

After persuading Luke and Kiera to be your messenger, you settled down comfortably in your sofa with a book in your hands and a mug on the table ready for your act. Hours passed, you heard stable and slow footsteps which was normally unnoticeable as if their owner wanted to pass the announcement that he was coming. You inhaled deeply and quietly, putting the book over your face and passively sensing his figures getting closer and closer.

“Well, look who’s here?”, Sylus’s tone contained amusement and fondness.

Not waiting for your response, he continued, “Isn’t this the new boss of my employees?” with a slow tone along side with his usual signature smirk, even though you didn’t see it, you could feel it.

You controlled your emotion, and proceeded with an indifferent reply, “huh, what are you saying? I don’t understand anything”

He huffed and gave a little chuckle which you always enjoyed. “Oh, really? Then I guess I have to find out the culprit who managed to make my most reliable and loyal subordinates follow their order and pass such false rumors”. As he was speaking, he closed the distance. You could feel he had his strong and long arms behind the you, on the sofa. His shadow loomed over you as he leaned down.

You couldn’t help but look up, matching his tender and interested gaze, as always, “Which rumors?”. You couldn’t resist grinning a bit when those words slipped out of your lips. The act was on the verge of falling apart.

The headlight was covered by his tall figure as he sat down on the arm rest, fully had you in his zone. Eyebrows raising a bit, his words overloaded with interest: “Rumors … like my sweetie was mad at me and demanded a separation”.

You could feel the corner of your lips raise a bit, but you pretended to be taken aback, “Oh god, I could never do that. Your initial reaction was to suspect me. Bad move, Sylus, now I am mad for real”.

“My apology, sweetie. I should have believed you more than my intuition about the cheekiness on your face ever since I walked in and the sound of your giggles down the hall this afternoon when I saw you with the twins”, he talked calmly and apologetically but the expression was full of knowing. You opened your eyes wide as you hadn’t noticed his presence at that moment. As things got exposed, you wondered if this prank got too much.

Using the book as the cover, you left the sad eyes only to his vision, “I was bored and you were busy so… are you mad?”, hopefully you didn’t cross any lines.

Surprisingly, he lifted you up and had you sit on his laps, completely in his embrace. “I was any near that feeling, darling. If I had known my kitten wants my attention, I would’ve waited the twins to break the news”. He placed his lips on your forehead and you could feel his hand gently brush through your hair.

“Since you got my full attention now, should I make it up for you on all the efforts you have made?”

You smiled happily as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

You quietly pouted and added: “… the twins were hard to talk through… my throat was dry after…”

“I know, I know. Let’s find something to soothe my sweetie’s lovely throat then”.

XAVIER

Tara sent a message saying that mission accomplished, which meant she had told him about it. You nervously waited for his arrival, half anticipating for what was coming.

A beep noise as the keycode successfully accepted. The clack of the door echoed through the space, the footsteps followed next.

Xavier walked in with a confused expression combining a bit of sadness. He walked in and sat down next to you, “You know, Tana told me something today which I am shock and in a huge confusion”.

You held back laughter and lifted up your head from the phone screen to face him. “What is it?”, trying your best to sound nonchalant about it.

“She said that you are upset at me about something and ….”, he seemed flustered and struggled to put things into words, “you wanted to… break up with me”.

When those words were finally out, he took a big and clear inhale as if it was something really difficult for him to say. “Is it true?”. He didn’t wait for you to reply, with his eyes on your face observing every single of your expression in case he didn’t miss any changes.

You suddenly felt very guilty as it supposed to be a harmless joke to get a reaction out of him. Based on his reaction, he must have thought about this the whole way to home and maybe, throughout his mission. As the silence went on, you kinda lost in your thought for a moment since you felt bad about this.

He couldn’t wait any longer, reached out to your hand and asked: “Did I do something to make you mad? Let’s talk about it”. Even though the words filled with sadness, he sounded calm reflecting the seriousness in him to solve this problem peacefully and at once.

You were awoken from the thoughts by his action. Quickly holding his hands back tightly and squeezing them, you rushed out the truth, “No no, it is not like that. It was a dare Tara got from the Truth or Dare game we played in break time”.

Upon hearing that, his dark blue eyes were wide open and full of surprise. After that, his brows furrowed with the feeling of confusion and possibly anger which you felt too flustered to figure out. Your hands were shaking when noticing the change in his emotion. “I- I am sorry. I thought it would be fun when they suggested but I didn’t know it would hurt you badly like this. I - have no words, I am truly sorry”.

You lowered your eyes as you were too afraid to look at him, feeling like being watched by the light of truth and judgement. As a lover, you had made such a bad prank, allowing the love of your life in pain while you were in the state of enjoying that. What were you thinking?

You could feel your tears rearing up, before it got running out. You instinctively withdrew your hand from his to quickly wipe your eyes, but the movement was stopped. When looking up, you fell into a tight hug. His hand on the back of your head and his chin on the top of your hair, “Don’t cry. I am not mad at you. I simply felt upset at myself not knowing that I make you sad and why”.

You mumbled against his white shirt as he pressed your head on his shoulder, “No, you never make me sad. It was my fault. I-“

Xavier didn’t let you finish your self accusation, “Shhh, it is okay”. His hug was a bit loose as he released a bit to hold you by the shoulders and looked straight info your teary eyes.

“I understand now. Stop blaming yourself, alright?”

You nodded as his finger brushed through the corner of your eyes, he gently kissed your lips.

“And I meant what I said, tell me if you are upset with me. I don’t want to lose you over things I am not aware of”

Your heart skipped a beat as you looked into his eyes.

“Now, since we come to the agreement, I think I need to receive some compensation after what I have been feeling”, his lips quirked up, eyes full of cheekiness.

[sneakyfriday]

In weakness and in strength

I want to be your weakness, your strength, your everything. Because… you are my every reason to live and to love.

Caleb x You. Based on this illusio

“Hi, the Colonel has already left the office earlier afternoon.”

You were sure Caleb was actively avoiding you at this point. It was past midnight and you looked everywhere. He couldn’t have predicted that you would be running around looking for him and hid away in some secret base, right?

“Thanks Liam. Do you happen to know where he was heading to?”

You felt a pang of sadness across your chest as you tried to hold back the frustration from showing in your tired eyes. You just couldn’t seem to reach him and it was driving you insane.

***

Was he angry?

You swore you didn’t mean to raise your voice last night. It was humiliating to be treated like you were some fragile damsel in distress, unable to protect yourself. For god’s sake, you were one of the best hunters in Linkon City. Couldn’t he trust you, just a little bit?

Was he tired?

You noticed beads of sweat rolling down his temples when he ran towards you. His breathing was hushed, uniform crooked and hair unkempt. Your name escaped his lips like a trembling whisper, his knuckles white as he gripped your shoulders with a force greater than gravity itself.

You were standing alone at an unknown intersection after midnight. In fact, you had been there for the last 20 minutes, trying to use the stars as navigation, your dead phone as useful as a brick. You had to admit, Skyhaven was a little eery at night. It was as if the city was under some sort of evil spell and everyone fell into a deep slumber the moment the midnight clock striked. There was no sign of any living creatures, no movement, no usual Linkon City’s hustle and bustle. Just empty buildings. Just wind rustling the leaves. Just pending thunderstorm clouds in the distance. You were not scared, just a little, well, concerned — you thought. Astraphobia and being lost in a foreign city, whatever. Worst case scenario, someone would definitely find you fainting on the street tomorrow and bring you to the hospital anyway.

Was he sick of, well, you?

“If this is your definition of being able to take care of yourself, I have nothing to say.”

Caleb’s words were gentle, yet his gaze was razor sharp. All you could do was freezing like a deer caught in headlights, words struggled to escape your lips.

You were no longer a kid, and yet, you always found yourself feeling like one in front of Caleb . Always helpless, always in trouble.

“Wait, how did you find out where I was? Did you… put a tracking device on me again?”

You held your fists tight as the realisation stabbed your gut like a sharp knife. Did he not trust you that much? To put surveillance on you despite promising not to do so again?

Fighting back the tears that threatened to fall, you stared straight back into those indiscernible violet eyes. What was that you saw? Disappointment? Anger? Regret? At you? At himself?

“I would rather you be mad at me than having to look at your lifeless body.”

After a long deafening silence that felt like forever, Caleb finally spoke. His hands moved to cup your face, fingers gently caressing your cheeks.

How could he? Yes, you had to admit that you were in a bit of a situation, but that was nothing you could not handle on your own.

You were strong enough. You had to be strong enough. Not just that, you had to be strong without him. Because you knew all too well what it meant to live in the world without Caleb. To have the only one you love and care about suddenly gone one day, leaving you broken and torn apart all alone. You learned to pick up your own broken pieces and you would not be able to do that if you start depending on him again.

In fact, you wanted to be independent from him so bad that you couldn’t afford to show him any weaknesses. Only then you could be free from the tantalising, slow consuming trap that threatened the wall you meticulously built from tears.

“I would rather you not look at me at all. Caleb, why are you so afraid?”

***

“I’m not too sure. Sorry.”

Liam’s stone cold reply cut through your chain of thoughts and pulled you back to reality. You checked your phone again for the 100th time since morning.

“I’m sorry gege”

“Let’s talk”

“I couldn’t reach you :( Where are you?”

Message cold, unopened. Missed calls unreturned.

Caleb was not the kind to give you the silent treatment no matter how upset he was. He would always be the one to apologise first even if it was not his fault, or make it up to you with small gestures despite your stubbornness.

Caleb had always been forgiving, always available, always reassuring. He was gentle, yet overwhelmingly enveloping.

It was painfully obvious that once again, you already couldn’t go on without his constant presence.

Your mind went straight to the worst case scenarios. Maybe someone kidnapped Caleb? A ruthless wanderer attacked him? Or could he had run into an accident along the way?

Your stomach churned with worries. What if…fate decided to separate the two of you once more?

What an irony. Was this how he felt last night?

*Ding*

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it :)”

“Sorry I missed your calls, was busy at the fleet’s office ><“

“Go to sleep, don’t wait for me”

Liar. You are hiding from me.

***

“Please, just…let me in. Let me take care of you when you are weak.”

You found yourself standing outside his door, feeling helpless to the point of frustration. The cup of hot water in your hand had long turned cold.

You were tossing on the bed when you heard the familiar footsteps echoing through the quiet corridor and the main gate creaking open. You were staring at the ceiling, eyes wide open, when you noticed his heavy breathing and stifled cough. You were knocking on his bedroom door, concerned and impatient, when he tried to drive you away with a hoarse, tired voice.

All of a sudden, the door unlocked softly. You put down the medicines and water on the table before walking towards him, who was sitting on the bed, with his back resting against the headrest.

“Come here.”

Caleb reached out to grab your hand and gently pull you onto his lap. He did not even have the strength to change after he got back. Through the thick fabric of his uniform, you felt the heat radiating from his skin.

“How can I have any weakness if I want you to depend on me? I… need to protect you.”

Caleb squeezed your hand tightly as he rest them against his chest. It was as if he was afraid that you would slip through his fingers the moment he let go of your hand. His gaze was fixed on you, memorising your every movement and emotion.

You were his anchor, his direction, his home. It was natural that he wanted to shield and protect the single most important person in his life and his reason to live. Unbeknownst to you, his obsession with protecting you was what gave him the strength to return from death.

His other hand gently traced along your cheeks. The bright moon casted a soft light on your face, illuminating your skin to an ethereal glow. Gosh, you were so painfully beautiful.

You were the treasure that he desperately wanted to protect and hide away from all evils.

Caleb knew you were capable of taking care of yourself. He had seen your growth and even celebrated your achievements together. But he could never tell you, the overzealous need to protect you was more for his sake than yours. The identity of a protector was his life purpose. And an excuse for all his messy feelings.

He wanted to bring you to a place with only the two of you. He wanted you to entrust yourself fully to him. He wanted to monopolise you. Because that was the only way he can truly protect you, right? Because he was your gege? Because of his duty? Or because of love?

Funny how he could control gravity, yet unable to stop being helplessly revolved around you. His sun.

“But I don’t want to just depend on you, I want to stand beside you. I want you to depend on me too.”

You pouted. You realised that you were both idiots. He was overprotective, and you were stubborn.

While your resistance to relying on him came from a place of self-protection, it might already be too late.

You could no longer live without him.

The moment he came back into your life after that fateful incident, all your heartbreak training and personal walls proved to be useless. He easily broke down your resolve and you crawled straight back to his arms like you were meant to be.

Caleb did not reply you. His one hand still gripped yours tightly while resting them on his chest, the other had now moved to hug your waist, pulling you closer to his body. His gaze left yours to drift downwards, stopping right at your lips.

His eyes turned hazy, hungry almost. Caleb found it increasingly difficult to focus on anything but your pouty, pink, insanely kissable lips. His weakened body was now eating away his usual self-control.

He finally spoke, voice barely a whisper. He was too sick and tired to hide his truthful feelings from you.

“You asked me why I am so afraid. You asked to see my weakness.

How can I not be afraid, if my weakness is right here. She’s my everything.”

Something tugged on your heartstrings at his sudden confession.

“I don’t want your protection, as your little sister. I want to stand beside you, you know, …as a woman”

You closed the remaining distance between the two of you by leaning your chest against his.

Caleb jumped slightly, surprised, his breathing quickened and heartbeats grew more erratic by the seconds. You reached up to run your hands through his hair, absent-mindedly playing with his locks before gently stroking the back of his head. You planted your face at the crook of Caleb’s neck, steady breaths playfully caressed his skin.

He was warm. He was so comforting. He smelled like summer, fresh showers and refreshing apples. You nuzzled deeper into his neck, hoping to get more of his scent. You missed him even when you are next to him.

“Someone dared to ignore me for the whole day. Say, maybe… it’s my turn to put a tracking device on you”

With eyes full of mirth, you looked up and flashed him the most mischievous smile. To your surprise, you were met with an unfamiliar burning gaze that caused chills to run down your spine and your heart beating frantically in your chest.

“I like that. A lot.” — his voice dangerously low, almost dripping like honey.

You felt the blush slowly creeped up your neck to the tips of your ears. Embarrassed all of a sudden, you tried to back away from his embrace, only for Caleb to gripped onto your waist tighter, refusing to let any distance come between you.

He lowered his head and planted gentle kisses all over your temple. Hot breaths tickled your face and you became so conscious of the atmosphere, his quickened heart, his wandering hand moving from your waist up to trace the curve of your breast and the growing bulge that were touching your thigh. Soft moans escaped his lips as he nibbled on your now scarlet ear, hips pushed against your torso in a sensual rhythm. His touch started out soft and gentle, yet they slowly grew more impatient and passionate.

You felt hot. You became lightheaded. Maybe you were falling sick.

Silly, blissfully underestimated the effect you had on him. Caleb wanted nothing more than to make you his right at that moment.

You were impossible and intoxicating. You had occupied his every thought and imprisoned his heart. Now that he knew you shared, even if just a fraction of his feelings, he was beyond ecstasy. He desired to touch you more, harder, deeper, to drown in you and to mark you with his scent.

Maybe next time. Would not want to scare you away just yet.

He had waited for so long and he would not mind waiting for a little longer.

***

Self note: If illusio ever comes back I will put the Colonel in every single memory. Also felt a little detached writing this idk, like hey its not me im not the main character im just a messenger.