#implied plus sized mc???

[koralcove]

since it's established that caleb cooks for you (us/mc), imagine after reuniting with one another that he's noticed how thin you've gotten compared to when he last saw you. with the ongoing investigation about the aether core and grieving for your (supposedly) dead family, you haven't had time to take care of yourself well enough. you're mostly driven on energy via takeouts, eating out, and snacking for when you remember to take a break. when he runs his thumb softly on your cheek, he can feel the loss of the chub on your face that he used to affectionately (and annoyingly, on your part) squeeze and pinch on. but it's nothing that he can't fix with spoiling you with his cooking. so every day, he makes it a mission to make time to cook your favourite meals and dishes that he knows you've missed since he'd been gone, and within a week, he can already see the plumpness of your cheeks taking shape to what he used to know. when you start to complain that your shorts seem a bit tight on you and you opt to borrow his shirts instead of wearing your usual ones, his chest is filled with pride at his work of seeing those cute little pudges on your body.

tonight, you're probably on your third round of wolfing down another one of your favourites that he made. you'd told yourself yesterday that you'd hold back from eating too much ever since your eye caught on the slight fullness of your belly. your face has gotten a tad rounder, and you're aghast at just how much you've been consuming for only a week. you would've objected as caleb keeps asking if you want another round, but you've missed the taste of his cooking. the taste of home. and there's a part of you that's clutching onto the flavours as if it's the last meal you'll ever get from him. a part of you still finds it unbelievable that he's really here with you, right in the flesh, laughing and mussing on your hair. the familiar touch seems like a slap on your face that you find a prickling sensation at the back of your nose whenever the reality sets that... he's here. and he's home. you're home. you are both home.

noticing the faraway look on your eyes and the distracted movement, caleb pipes up. "you look like you're thinking too hard. had second thoughts about my cooking?"

you blink, snapping out of your glum musings and shaking your head. "no. just... thinking of your ulterior motive of fattening me up. don't think i haven't noticed. every day feels like a feast with how much you're cooking. i might have to buy new clothes, y'know."

caleb only smiles at your words, jabbing your forehead lightly with his finger. "well, it looks like you forgot to take care of yourself while i was gone. can't do anything without me, huh?"

you huff at the light teasing, taking a bite out of your food and looking down on your plate. your eyes might betray you. and you don't think you can handle the soft look he's giving you.

"but don't worry. your caleb is back, and i'm here to take care of my pip-squeak. and what better way to start than to get some meat back on you." he grins.

you groan. "stooop. you're taking me out of shape, and i'm blaming you if i fall behind with everyone when i suddenly become out of breath."

caleb only chuckles at you. "i think i'm just giving you more shape, if you ask me. and that wouldn't be so bad. that means i get to have more of you!" he squeezes your side affectionately, and you shy away from how ticklish you are, along with a small sense of insecurity bleeding through you. caleb doesn't miss your small scrunch of discomfort.

"you know i like you no matter what shape or form, right?" he pulls his chair closer to yours, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. "and... there is a law about that, y'know?"

your brow furrows in confusion. "there is?"

he nods, a cheeky smile quirking on his lips. "yeah. "the greater the mass, the greater the force of attraction". soooo, in other words, the more i plump you up, my attraction to you will keep increasing."

your mouth hangs at his words, and you playfully jab his side. "gē! you..."

he merely laughs, pinching on your cheek for extra measure. his glee is infectious that you can't help but break into a smile as well.

ah, caleb thinks, there's my girl.

can't get over that caleb is just basically packed into the law of gravitation. smartass would probably use that line to his advantage.

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

More to Love | Sebastian Sallow x OC

listen we are all guilty of describing tall, model sebastian with a perfectly toned body and abs who is never insecure BUT NOBODY, AND I MEAN NOBODY, can rid of me of the headcannon that adult seb is a chunky man. nobody. you can tear it from my cold dead hands. have y'all seen solomon? beyond adolescence, sebastian does not have the genes for a fast metabolism, nor does sebastian possess self control against his vices (aka sweets). anyway this is a completely selfish indulgence. thick sebastian supremacy. that is all, tysm.

p.s. if anyone finds any fan art of this version of him i would literally go feral...

Words: ~5,400

Tags: Post Canon, Insecure Sebastian, Established Relationship, Romance, Fluff, Implied Smut, Size Kink(? I mean like I guess but I feel like we should just be appreciating all bodies ?)

Read more stories about Sebastian and Evangeline

The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains of their cozy cottage, casting a warm golden glow over the kitchen. The faint, sugary scent of last night’s baking still lingered in the air—Evangeline’s attempt at perfecting a new cookie recipe. Sebastian remembered how she had glared at a plate of the so-called failures, muttering something about them being “too dry." Sebastian had happily devoured them, brushing off her perfectionist grumbles with a wink and a mouthful of cookies.

Now, the house was quiet, save for the occasional chirping of birds outside. Evangeline had already left for the market, a wicker basket in hand and a determined spring in her step. She’d kissed him on the forehead before leaving, murmuring something about getting the perfect flour for a sourdough recipe she’d been researching all week. He could still hear the echo of her soft laughter as she disappeared out the door.

Sebastian stretched, his muscles aching faintly in that satisfying way that came from a week filled with physical work. Being an Auror meant he was constantly on the move—tracking leads, chasing dark wizards, and, more often than he liked, dealing with paperwork that made him question all his life choices. But spring Saturdays like this, when he didn’t have to be anywhere but home, were his favorite.

He yawned and shuffled out of bed, raking a hand through his disheveled hair as he made his way to the wardrobe. Spring had finally settled in, bringing mild, sunny weather that called for something lighter than his usual layers. His hand landed on a familiar flannel shirt, one of his favorites. It was soft from years of wear, its faded green pattern perfect for the season.

Smiling faintly, he shrugged it over his shoulders and reached for the buttons—only to stop short when the fabric pulled taut across his shoulders and chest.

Frowning, he tugged harder, but the shirt refused to cooperate.

“What the…?” he muttered, stepping back toward the mirror.

Sebastian frowned deeper as he studied himself, his hands resting on his hips. The reflection was still undeniably his, but as his eyes trailed over his freckled skin, mapping the same familiar constellations he’d had for years, he realized the framework beneath had shifted in ways he hadn’t realized.

He rolled his shoulders experimentally, watching the way the muscle there still moved, still held its strength. Yet the sharp edges of his collarbones and the cut of his shoulders weren’t as defined as they used to be.

Turning slightly, he ran a hand down his chest, his fingers brushing over the faint dusting of hair. His pecs were still firm, still solid beneath his touch, but there was give there now, a softness that made his jaw tighten. He pressed lightly, testing the subtle give in his chest, before his hand drifted lower, skimming over the newfound curve of his stomach. His fingers prodded experimentally at the softness, sinking slightly into the layer of flesh, and he let out a quiet, frustrated huff. The firmness of his abs was still there—he reassured himself of that much—but they were now buried beneath the gentle padding that had crept in without him noticing.

In response, he straightened his posture, tightening his core instinctively as though to pull it all back in. The mirror reflected the faint impression of his old shape, but as soon as he relaxed, the softer curve returned.

Sebastian sighed in frustration, raking a hand through his messy hair. His fingers lingered at his jawline, as though suddenly aware of it, and his thumb brushed along the edge. Even that felt different—less angular than he remembered, the sharpness subtly softened, apparently, by one too many of Evangeline's cookies.

He turned back to face the mirror head-on, his fingers curling into his sides as he tried to reconcile the man in the reflection with the one he thought he’d been. The man Evangeline married had been sharp and lean, all hard edges and restless energy. Now, he looked... well, not like that.

Sebastian shrugged off the flannel and sat heavily on the edge of the bed, staring down at the worn rug beneath his feet. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and the movement made him acutely aware of a sensation he hadn't noticed before: a fold of flesh creasing above his waistband.

His hand hovered over it for a moment before he pressed his palm flat against his stomach, as if to confirm what he already knew.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered under his breath, his brow furrowing deeper.

His mind began to spiral, his thoughts moving too fast for him to catch hold of any one of them. How long had this been happening? Why hadn’t he noticed sooner? And worse—what did she think?

Evangeline saw him every day. She touched him, kissed him, curled up against him at night. She must have noticed. How could she not?

He thought about the way she looked at him—the warmth in her hazel eyes, the teasing curve of her lips. She’d always been affectionate, always quick to rest her head on his shoulder or slide her hand around his waist. But now that he really thought about it, was that affection the same as it had always been?

Or had it changed?

Sebastian’s mind raced through their recent interactions, searching for signs that Evangeline might have been... humoring him. Was she still as playful as she used to be? Did her hands linger on him the way they used to, or had she started pulling away without him noticing?

And what about the times when they weren’t just sitting on the couch or cooking together? What about the moments when they were truly alone, when her touch was softer and her voice was breathless?

The soft creak of the front door opening startled him out of his reverie. He heard the familiar rustle of her skirts and the gentle thud of her basket being placed on the kitchen table.

“Sebastian?” Evangeline’s voice called out, light and cheerful as ever. “I’m back! They had the flour I needed—oh, and I found those dried cherries you like!”

Sebastian ran a hand through his hair, exhaling heavily. He stood, throwing on a plain linen shirt that still fit well enough, though he couldn’t help but feel hyperaware of how it clung just slightly more than he remembered. He made his way to the kitchen, forcing a casual smile as he leaned in the doorway to watch her unpack.

Evangeline was a vision, as always. Her long, dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, slightly windswept from the walk back. She wore one of her simple spring dresses, the fabric hugging her curves in a way that always made his stomach flip. Her cheeks were pink from the breeze, and her eyes lit up when she spotted him.

“There you are,” she said warmly, walking over to press a kiss to his cheek. “You’re up late. I thought you’d already be in the garden or reading by now.”

He shrugged, his smile faltering slightly. “Just... taking my time this morning.”

Evangeline tilted her head, studying him the way only she could. She had a knack for sensing when something was wrong, even when he tried to hide it. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “What’s on your mind?”

“It’s nothing,” he said quickly, stepping past her to lean against the counter. He busied himself inspecting the contents of her basket—flour, herbs, fresh berries—anything to avoid her gaze. But Evangeline wasn’t one to let things go so easily.

“Sebastian,” she said softly, moving to stand beside him. “What’s wrong? And don’t say it’s nothing—I know you too well.”

Sebastian hesitated, the weight of her gaze pressing on him as she waited for an answer. His jaw tensed, the words tangled in his throat. He didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to seem ridiculous, but Evangeline’s gaze was so steady, so full of gentle concern, that it made it nearly impossible to brush her off entirely.

So he did the next best thing—he distracted her.

With a soft hum, he stepped forward, closing the small gap between them. Before she could press him further, his arms slipped around her waist, pulling her snug against him. His head dipped to the crook of her shoulder, his nose brushing against her neck in a way that made her breath hitch.

“Sebastian,” she said, her voice soft but curious. “What are you—?”

He nuzzled closer, his lips grazing her skin, and she immediately burst into laughter, her hands coming up to push lightly at his chest. “Stop that!” she giggled, squirming against him. “You know that tickles!”

“Do I?” he murmured innocently, his voice muffled against her skin. He pressed a light, teasing kiss just below her ear, which made her laugh harder.

“Yes, you do!” she managed through her laughter, twisting in his hold. She turned her head, her face still alight with amusement, and gently flicked his shoulder. "Release me!"

Sebastian grinned and nuzzled into her neck again, his voice low and teasing. “Not a chance."

Evangeline squirmed more, her laughter bubbling out in a way that always made his chest feel lighter. “Sebastian!” she giggled, half-protesting, half-delighted. “I mean it! Let me go before I—”

“Before you what?” he interrupted. “I don’t scare easily, love. You know that.”

Evangeline huffed and flicked his ear this time. “Before I refuse to share the bread with you, that’s what!”

Sebastian gasped, feigning shock as he finally released her. “Now, now, let’s not say things we can’t take back.”

Evangeline turned to face him, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she adjusted her skirts. “Then behave yourself,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him in a way that wasn’t remotely threatening.

Sebastian chuckled, running a hand through his hair as he leaned back against the counter, watching her return to unpacking her basket.

“Goodness me,” she said, rolling up her sleeves with purpose. “I’ve been waiting all week to try this recipe and the minute I try, you attack me. Are you going to help to make up for it, or are you just going to stand there being smug?”

Sebastian chuckled. “I suppose I can be convinced,” he said, moving to her side as she began gathering the rest of the tools she’d need.

For the next hour, the kitchen was filled with the quiet hum of their voices, the occasional clatter of mixing bowls, and Evangeline’s soft laughter.

Sebastian found himself relaxing, the familiar rhythm of their routine soothing the restless energy that had been gnawing at him earlier. He teased her gently when she smudged flour on her cheek, earning a playful swat in return, and when she handed him the dough to knead, she watched with an amused grin as he muttered about how much effort it took.

"Thought you were supposed to be a big, strong Auror, Sallow," she quipped, her lips twitching with amusement as she leaned against the counter, watching him wrestle with the dough.

“I am a big, strong Auror,” Sebastian shot back, narrowing his eyes at her. “This stuff is just... deceptively difficult. And sticky. Are you sure this is how it’s supposed to feel?”

Evangeline laughed, the sound light and musical as she stepped closer, her hands lightly dusted with flour. “You’re doing fine,” she reassured him, slipping in beside him. “But here—let me show you.”

She reached out, her smaller hands folding over his to guide his movements. The closeness made Sebastian pause, his earlier insecurities threatening to resurface as her warmth seeped into him. He glanced down at her, the way her long lashes cast soft shadows on her cheeks, her eyes focused intently on the dough. She looked so at ease, so utterly content, and it twisted something in his chest.

“See?” she said softly, her voice breaking through his thoughts. “Gentle pressure. You don’t have to fight it, Sebastian. It’s not a dark wizard.”

Sebastian let out a quiet huff of laughter, shaking his head as Evangeline’s hands guided his own, working the dough until it was smooth and elastic.

When they were finally done, Evangeline patted it into a neat ball and placed it into a bowl to proof, covering it with a clean cloth. “There,” she said, brushing her hands off on her apron.

Sebastian stepped back, wiping his flour-dusted hands on a towel. “So, what now, boss?” he asked, his tone playful.

Evangeline grinned, tilting her head toward the door. “You, my dear husband, are going to go sit on the porch and enjoy the sun while I tidy up. I’ll bring lunch out in a bit.”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “You sure? I can help clean—”

“Nope,” she interrupted, shooing him toward the door with a wave of her hand. “Go. Relax. You’ve earned it after that battle with the dough.”

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at his lips. “Alright, if you say so,"

With a glass of lemonade in hand, Sebastian made his way to the porch. The gentle warmth of the spring sun greeted him as he stepped outside, the wooden boards creaking softly beneath his feet. He sank into one of the chairs, letting out a contented sigh as he leaned back.

The village stretched out before him, quiet and serene, with the distant hum of life carrying on beyond their little corner of the world. The sun’s rays warmed his skin, the light breeze ruffling his hair. He took a sip of the lemonade, the tart sweetness refreshing as he let himself sink into the moment, his earlier insecurities and worries far away now, dulled by the laughter and warmth Evangeline always brought with her.

He was so lost in the peace that he didn’t hear her approach until she appeared in the doorway, balancing a tray with two plates and the pitcher of lemonade.

“Lunch is served,” she announced cheerfully, stepping out onto the porch.

Sebastian sat up as she set the tray down on the small table between them, his eyes flicking to his plate: a neatly arranged sandwich, a small side of crisps, and, of course, three cookies nestled together like a tempting afterthought. He masked a frown, the sight of them stirring the same pang of self-consciousness he’d been trying to forget all morning. So much for putting his extra fluff out of his mind—it was staring back at him in the form of three perfectly golden, innocent-looking biscuits.

Still, he didn’t say anything, brushing the thought aside as he focused on enjoying lunch with Evangeline. The sandwich was delicious, the crisp, fresh lettuce and savory meats hitting the spot as they chatted easily about her market trip and his plans to tend to the garden later.

When Evangeline finished her plate, she leaned back in her chair with a contented sigh, the light breeze catching her hair and carrying the faint scent of flour and sugar. Sebastian moved to gather their plates, standing to take them inside, but paused when Evangeline frowned, her gaze dropping to his untouched cookies.

“Are they that bad?” she asked, her brow furrowed as she leaned forward to inspect them. “I thought they turned out alright this time.”

Sebastian froze, feeling her question land with a weight he wasn’t ready to address. He hesitated for a fraction too long before shaking his head, mustering a smile. “No, not at all. They’re great. I’m just... not in the mood for something sweet right now.”

Evangeline’s frown deepened, hazel eyes narrowing as she tilted her head. “Not in the mood?” she repeated, her tone skeptical. “Sebastian, you’ve never turned down cookies. Not once. Not even when you had the flu.”

“I just... figured I’d save them for later,” he said quickly, avoiding her gaze as he balanced their plates on one arm. “Don’t want to ruin my appetite for dinner.”

That earned a soft laugh from her. “Dinner’s hours away, and we both know you could eat a Hippogriff and still have room for dessert.

Sebastian forced one of his trademark grins, the kind he knew could distract her from just about anything. “I promise I’ll eat them later,” he said, his tone light as he grabbed the empty plates and moved to the door. “No need to worry, love.”

But he should have known better. Evangeline was many things—kind, brilliant, a phenomenal baker—but above all else, she was stubborn.

“Sebastian,” she called after him, her voice sharp enough to stop him mid-step as he crossed the threshold back into the kitchen.

He sighed, shoulders sinking slightly as he turned to face her. She stood in the doorway, hands on her hips, her eyes narrowing as she studied him.

“What?” he asked, forcing a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Evangeline huffed and stepped forward, plucked the plates from his hands with a deftness that left him blinking, and set them firmly on the counter.

“Alright,” she said, turning back to him and crossing her arms. Her gaze pinned him in place, sharp and unyielding. “Spill. What’s going on?”

“Nothing’s going on,” he replied quickly, too quickly. He reached up, scratching the back of his neck, a nervous habit she knew all too well. “I just told you—I’m not in the mood for something sweet right now. That’s all.”

“Sebastian.” Her voice softened, but the determination in her expression didn’t waver. She stepped closer, her hands uncrossing to rest lightly on her hips. “You can’t lie to me, you know that."

He hesitated, his jaw tightening as his gaze flicked away. He wanted to brush her off, to dodge her questions and let the moment pass. But the way she looked at him—so patient, so steady—made it impossible.

He let out a slow breath, forcing himself to meet her gaze. “It’s just… earlier, I tried on that green flannel shirt—the one you like—and it didn’t fit. It was too small."

Evangeline frowned, her brows knitting together. “So? Clothes shrink, Sebastian. Especially when someone—” she gestured pointedly at him “—refuses to follow proper washing instructions.”

He huffed a short laugh, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “It didn’t shrink,” he muttered, gesturing vaguely at himself. “It's me, Evie. I looked in the mirror, and I realized I’ve… gone all soft. I mean, look at me.” He motioned to his chest and stomach, his voice tinged with frustration.

Evangeline blinked at him, her expression shifting into something softer—warmer, with a teasing glint in her eyes that Sebastian immediately recognized. She stepped closer, her hand sliding from his arm to rest lightly against his chest, her lips curving into a small, amused smile.

“I do look at you,” she said softly. “I look at you all the time, Sebastian. And quite often, without clothes in the way.”

His ears burned instantly, a deep flush spreading across his face and down his neck. “Evie, please,” he groaned.

“What?” she asked innocently. “You act like I don’t see you—really see you—all the time. You’re my husband, silly.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair as he avoided her gaze.

Evangeline tilted her head, her lips twitching with barely contained amusement. “What exactly do you want me to say, Sebastian? Do you want me to say ‘Oh, darling, I’ve noticed you’ve gotten a bit squishier lately, but don’t worry—I still love you?’ Because that’s ridiculous.”

“So you have noticed then,” he said, his tone sharper than he intended. He crossed his arms, his jaw tightening as he met her gaze. “And you just didn’t tell me?”

Evangeline blinked at him again before laughing outright—a soft, melodic sound that filled the kitchen. “You’re unbelievable,” she said, shaking her head. “Sebastian, I didn’t say anything because there’s nothing to say! You’re acting like this is some monumental change when it’s not!

“It feels like it, is” he muttered, his arms dropping to his sides. “I’ve let myself go, Evangeline. And you’re just—what? Too nice to admit it?”

Her laughter faded, her brow furrowing slightly. “Too nice to admit it?” she repeated, her voice soft but incredulous. “Sebastian, do you really think I’d lie to you about something like this?”

He hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Not lie,” he admitted quietly. “But maybe… spare my feelings.”

Evangeline sighed, her expression softening as she reached up to cradle his face in her hands, her thumbs brushing lightly over his cheekbones. "Listen to me. I’m not sparing your feelings. I love you. I have always loved you, and I always will."

He sighed, his hands coming up to loosely grip her wrists as her fingers remained warm against his skin. “But you’re not blind, Evie. This is... this is not the version of me you married."

Evangeline scoffed. “Do you really think the reason I married you had anything to do with how sharp your jawline was?”

“I mean... maybe not completely,” he muttered, his voice trailing off as his ears turned pink. “But it didn’t hurt.”

She sighed, a sound heavy with both exasperation and affection. She tilted her head back slightly, studying his stubborn expression. Clearly, her reassurances weren’t enough to break through that thick skull of his. If soft words and patience weren’t going to work, it was time to switch tactics.

Her gaze darkened slightly, a mischievous glint sparking to life as her lips curled into a sly grin. She slid her hands from his face to rest on his shoulders, her fingers trailing down to the broad expanse of his chest.

“Alright,” she murmured, her tone dropping into something low and silky. “You want me to be honest? I’ll be honest.”

Sebastian blinked, momentarily startled by the shift in her demeanor. “What are you—”

She cut him off, pressing a finger to his lips. “Hush. You’ve been doing a lot of talking. It’s my turn now.”

He swallowed hard, his ears burning as she stepped even closer, her body brushing against his, and tipped her head to look up at him through her lashes.

“Of course I’ve noticed the changes. How could I not? But Merlin help me, I love you like this,” she said, her voice smooth and steady, each word punctuated with intent. “Do you know why?”

He shook his head, utterly at a loss for words, his hands falling to rest uncertainly on her waist.

“Because,” she continued, “It tells me that you’re happy and comfortable and loved and well-fed—all the things you should be when you’re with someone who loves you. And I wouldn’t trade that for anything.”

His throat tightened and for a moment, he couldn’t speak. “Evie...” he murmured, his voice hoarse.

“I love you with all my heart, and yes, I love the way you look,” her voice was soft but steady, her hazel eyes locked onto his. Her hands trailed down to rest against his chest, her fingertips brushing over the slight softness he’d been agonizing over. “You're the most incredible man I’ve ever met. You’ve got these strong arms I adore, shoulders that make me weak in the knees, and those deliciously thick thighs I can't get enough of. And now there's just more of you for me to love."

Sebastian’s face burned a deeper shade of crimson, his ears hot with embarrassment. “Evie,” he mumbled, his voice caught between a groan and a laugh.

"Sebastian," she said firmly, gripping at his shirt now. "You have always been handsome, but now? Now you’re downright dangerous.” Her hand moved to his stomach, giving it a light pat.

Sebastian stared at her, completely floored. Her words hung in the air between them, weaving through his spiraling thoughts and silencing them one by one. The heat from his ears had spread down to his chest now, but the lingering twinges of doubt started to fade, smothered by the mischievous glint in her eyes and the way her hands lingered on him like he was the only man in the world.

“Dangerous, am I?” he murmured, his voice low, his lips twitching into something dangerously close to a smirk.

Evangeline’s grin widened, a spark of triumph lighting her expression. “Oh, absolutely,” she said, her fingers curling into his shirt as she tugged him closer. “You’re entirely too good-looking for your own good—and mine.”

Sebastian’s lips twitched, but as her words settled over him, something stirred in the back of his mind. Hang on a minute...

He replayed moment after moment from the past few months. The way her hands lingered just a bit longer when they curled up on the couch together. How she’d started sneaking up behind him in the mornings just to wrap her arms around his waist. How she’d tug him back into bed, her lips pressed against his neck as she muttered some excuse about not wanting to let him go yet.

She had been insatiable—more so than usual.

He’d chalked it up to the honeymoon phase lingering well past its expiration date, or maybe the warmer weather putting her in an unusually good mood. But now? Now, standing here with her hands sliding over him like she wanted to memorize every inch of his body, it all clicked.

His lips curled into a slow, wolfish grin, the confidence that had been knocked loose earlier returning in full force. “You have been extra fond of me lately, huh?” he teased, his voice dropping into that low, dangerous register that always made her cheeks flush.

Evangeline arched an eyebrow, unbothered by his sudden shift in demeanor. “Maybe,” she replied coyly.

Sebastian chuckled, the sound deep and rich as his hands moved to her waist, pulling her flush against him. “I suppose I should’ve known,” he murmured, his eyes roaming her face before locking onto hers. “All those extra little touches, the way you’ve been looking at me... You’re absolutely relentless, you know that?”

“And you’re just figuring this out now?” she teased, her smirk widening.

He shook his head, his grin growing wider as he tilted her chin up with one hand, his thumb brushing over her jawline. “I don’t think I’m the dangerous one here, Evie. You’ve been plotting this, haven’t you?”

She laughed softly, the sound warm and unrepentant. “I have no idea what you're talking about."

Sebastian narrowed his eyes, his grin never faltering. “Oh, you definitely know what I’m talking about,” he murmured, his voice dipping even lower, sending a shiver down her spine. “You’ve been playing the long game, haven’t you? Buttering me up—literally and figuratively—until I couldn’t resist you.”

Evangeline’s cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink, but her smirk didn’t waver. “If by ‘buttering you up’ you mean showing my husband how much I love him, then yes, guilty as charged,” she replied, tilting her head smugly. “And judging by the way you’ve been letting me drag you back to bed at all hours, I’d say you haven’t exactly been resisting.”

Sebastian laughed, the sound low and full of warmth as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his chest. “I don’t think anyone could resist you, Evie."

Evangeline laughed, her hands tangling in his hair as she gazed up at him. “Good,” she said, her tone light and playful. “I’d hate to think I was losing my touch.”

Sebastian smirked, his hands settling on her hips as he tilted his head down, their foreheads almost touching. “Losing your touch? Not possible,” he murmured, his voice soft but steady. “If anything, you’ve only gotten better at wrapping me around your finger.”

She grinned, leaning in to press a quick, teasing kiss to his lips before pulling back. “Exactly as planned,” she quipped, her hands sliding down to rest on his chest again. Her expression softened as her thumbs brushed over the fabric of his shirt. “But seriously, Sebastian, as much as I love you like this—and I do—if it really does bother you, if you really want to change something, just tell me.” Her lips curled into a small, teasing smile as she added, “I can always go a little easier on you, you know.”

He raised an eyebrow, his grin turning wry. “Go easier on me? What does that even mean?”

Evangeline laughed again, her fingers toying with the edge of his shirt. “It means I won’t bake as many pastries,” she said, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Or at least I’ll stop making so many batches of your favorites.

Sebastian scoffed, though his lips twitched with amusement. “You make it sound like I have no self-control,” he said, his tone laced with indignation.

Evangeline arched an eyebrow, giving him a pointed look. “Do you want me to list the number of times I’ve caught you sneaking into the kitchen at midnight? Because I’ve been keeping track, and let’s just say the numbers don’t lie.”

His ears flushed pink, but he shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Midnight snacks are perfectly reasonable. I’m a growing man, after all.”

“Growing where, exactly?” she teased, her grin widening as she tapped a finger lightly against his stomach.

He groaned, though a laugh escaped him despite himself. “You’re merciless,” he muttered.

“Only because I love you,” she replied, her tone softening as she slid her hands back up to his chest. “But seriously, Sebastian, we’ll figure it out. After all, we can’t have you ruining all your shirts, can we?"

Sebastian chuckled, the sound low and warm as he shook his head. “Merlin forbid I ruin all my shirts,” he said, his tone dripping with mock seriousness. “What would I even wear then?”

“Oh, I’m sure we could come up with something,” Evangeline replied, her grin widening as she tugged playfully at the hem of his shirt. “Or nothing at all. That’s always an option.”

Sebastian's grin turned positively wolfish. “Nothing at all, huh?” he murmured, his voice dropping into that low, dangerous register that made Evangeline’s cheeks flush. He took a small step closer, effectively pinning her between him and the counter. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Evangeline tilted her head, pretending to consider it. "We would have to give it a try first... for science."

"No time like the present," he murmured, leaning in until his lips brushed against the shell of her ear, his warm breath sending a shiver down her spine. “I’m fully committed to advancing scientific discovery, after all.”

Evangeline laughed softly, curling her fingers into the fabric of his shirt. “Well, I’d hate to stand in the way of progress,” she teased, looking up at him through her lashes. “Who am I to deny such noble pursuits?”

Sebastian’s grin widened. “That’s the spirit,” he murmured. “Let’s not waste a single moment, then.”

Before she could respond, his arms slipped under her, lifting her effortlessly off the ground. Evangeline let out a surprised laugh, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck, her laughter vibrating against him. The sound alone was enough to make his chest swell with affection, and the way she leaned into him, utterly unguarded, set his pulse pounding.

Evangeline’s lips brushed against the shell of his ear as he carried her toward the bedroom, her voice a teasing murmur that made his blood hum. She didn’t hold back—her words playful, wicked, and laced with affection. Every syllable sent heat pooling low in his stomach, her tone the perfect mix of mischief and adoration.

The bread, meanwhile, sat forgotten on the counter, the plans for the afternoon abandoned, and the lingering doubts that had gnawed at him all morning slipped away, irrelevant in the face of the one truth that mattered most: Evangeline adored him, every inch of him.

[ccwpidsblog]

White Dress, Black Cat 𖣁 | ONYAKOPON

Summary: They said she was a witch.

She said they were all damned. Onyakopon didn’t believe in hauntings until he heard his own voice tremble at the pulpit. Now every hymn echoes wrong, and she’s waiting for him by the well, knitting as if the world ain’t falling apart. He just wanted to serve God. Now they’re standing hand in hand, watching the damned burn.

Themes: Heavy Religious trauma/themes, family dysfunction, mentions of suicide, miscarriage, mental health struggles, tall blk female reader, plus-sized reader, preacherson!ony, implied supernatural violence, psychological horror, shy!ony, dark themes and atmosphere, small town prejudice, abandonment, slow burn, smut: virginity loss (mc and ony), soft sex/lovemaking, praise kinks, soft dom!ony

Part one | Part two | Part three

Word count: 10.2k

Authors Note: Well obviously I've been really into religious themes and southern gothic themes for some reason and with my religious background it's only fair I vent through my writing lol. This was meant to be a one-shot but yk how I get lol. Very different from the usual Ony fics hope you all enjoy and I don't disappoint 🥺💔

also wanted to thank @thecoochiefairy and @2neaky for unknowingly inspiring me!! I love black love and im happy to see it on tumblr again 🩷 please don't be shy send me an ask and support me on AO3

The night pressed in thick as syrup, and Onyakopon couldn't move.

He lay flat on his back on a threadbare cot in the shotgun house behind the old

sugarcane fields, sweat slicking his brow, heart hammering against ribs that had forgotten how to breathe. The air was too still. No crickets. No frogs. Not even the wind dared stir. Just that weight, heavier than a man, darker than sin, pinning him to the mattress with invisible hands.

Something's whispering in his ear.

He couldn’t understand the words, not exactly. But the voice, it was his father’s. And then not.

His body twitched. Eyes wide, still unable to blink. In the corner of the room, where the shadow refused to dissolve, something crouched. Watching. Waiting. Its eyes were coals, slow-burning.

“Get up,” he told himself. But his jaw wouldn’t work. His tongue felt thick. Roots of a tree growing wild inside his throat.

The thing in the corner inched forward. Crawling on elbows. Grinning too wide.

And then—

A scream tore from his chest. The kind that didn’t sound human.

He sat bolt upright, breath ragged, vision swimming. The shadow was gone. But the smell lingered like hot iron and smoke. Like burnt offerings. Outside, there was a loud crack of thunder as the sky began to pour. The world had moved on. But Onyakopon didn’t.

Not yet.

He scrubbed a hand over his face and stared down at the callouses in his palms.

The tremble in them betrayed him. That was the third one this week. And in every single one, there was always a shadow. Eyes like smoldering coals. A voice that wore his father’s face like a mask. No matter how many scriptures he recited before bed. No matter how often he sang himself hoarse in praise. It kept coming back. Stronger and stronger. And every time he woke, he felt like something had been peeled off of him in the night. Something soft. Something sacred.

He refused to speak on it. Refused to write it down. Didn’t dare let it live outside his own chest.

Not yet.

Not running. Not crying. Just sitting there heavy on his heart. Another crack of thunder rumbled the sky as heavy rain pelted on his family homes roof. He rose from his bed pulling his rosary off his night stand bringing it to his lips as he said a silent prayer.

Lord… have mercy on me. I been seein’ things. Eyes in the corner, whispers in the dark, faces that don’t belong to no man. I don’t know if it’s You, or the Devil, or somethin’ in between. But I’m scared. I’m tired. I’m tryin’.

Send me peace. Send me clarity. Send me somethin’ steady, somethin’ real. A light, Lord. Just a light to carry me through. Even if I don’t understand it yet.

As he said his Amens and laid back in his bed, Onyakopon had felt for the first time think that He wasn't listening.

By Sunday morning, the dreams still hadn’t left him. They clung to his shoulders like wet cotton.

But church folk didn’t care about dreams, especially not from a man like him. broad-shouldered and Bible-raised man, with a voice like honey on fire. The kind of voice that made pews sway and Deaconess Grant shout with both hands in the air.

Onyakopon stood at the front of the little white church he'd grown up in fingers wrapped around the wooden pulpit like every Sunday, his deep waves still damp from a basin rinse. Sunlight filtered in through stained glass panes, splashing color over the choir robes and sweating faces. The fans were flapping, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus but the heat was still wrapping necks like a noose.

“There's a leak in this old building... and my soul...” His voice filled the rafters, warm and booming.

Eyes closed. He let the song carry him. He tried to lose himself in it. But then

He saw it.

It wasn’t a flash. Not a trick of the light. It was there, really there, on the third pew from the front, sitting where Sister McGee always sat, legs crossed and grinning wide like it was proud to be seen. A thing with a stretched-out face and black gums, skin that shimmered like chicken grease thrown in water. Its eyes were hollow, but it always found him.

Mocking.

Ony’s throat caught on the next word.

“...This old building—keeps o' sinkin' and my... soul”

His voice had cracked like he was sixteen again singing for the congregation for the first time, he winced. Blinked. Shook his head.

Someone from the amen corner called out, calm and easy: “Take your time, brother.”

The thing was gone.

Just a trick of the heat, he told himself. Just his mind. The back doors of the church creaked open. Slow. Dust in the light. And there she was. Tall for a woman and wide-hipped, dark-skinned kissed by Gods given sun, like the earth after heavy rain, wearing a faded rose dress with puffed sleeves and lace at the hem. Her black cat trotted beside her like it belonged there. She held a woven basket over one arm and wore a wide-brimmed hat trimmed with dried lavender.

Every voice in the room caught in their throats.

Folks didn’t speak her name. Didn’t meet her eye. The bastard daughter of sin and prophecy. The daughter of a witch. But she just walked, quietly, deliberately, like the whole town wasn't against her and took her seat on the far back pew. Sitting there there like she always had a right to.

And while the choir tried to pick up the next verse, she began to knit. Small, neat stitches. Humming the melody under her breath in a voice soft as velvet.

Onyakopon stared too long.

He wasn't the only one.

Service ended with a shaky benediction and more side-eyes than hallelujahs.

Folks filed out quickly, muttering about the heat, about the hymnbook pages sticking together, about anything but the girl and her cat in the back pew. Onyakopon pretended to help fold chairs in the fellowship hall just long enough for everyone to disappear down the gravel road.

He stepped out the side door into the sunlight, breathing like he’d been underwater. But even outside, the church still felt-strange. Like it held its breath after she walked in.

She was still in the last pew. Alone now. Knitting the same deep thread with slow, sure hands. Her cat sat curled beside her like a guardian made of fur shadows. The rest of the sanctuary had emptied out like they feared catching something just by breathing her air.

Onyakopon stood at the door a moment, one boot scuffing the floor.

She didn’t look up. Just said, soft and almost teasing , delicate voice bouncing off the empty decaying walls.

“You feel it too.”

His spine stiffened as he straightens himself up, removing his cap from his head, deep

frown lines growing between his eyebrows.

"Ma'am?"

She tugged the thread once, looped it, pulled it through. Her fingers never paused.

“What don’t belong in the Lord’s house.”

His lips parted, but he said nothing.

Then she looked up. Wide, round, doll-like eyes — so dark they shimmered. She looked at him like a mirror. Like she saw every dream he tried to forget, every shadow that clung to the edges of his soul.

Onyakopon’s stomach twisted. A chill moved up his spine slow as molasses. He hadn’t told nobody about the thing that visited him in sleep or what he'd seen — not his mother, his father or brother. This was something just between him and God. He felt his fists clench, not in threat but in defense. That kind of knowing… it wasn’t natural.

He took a step in, boots creaking on the old wood. “You been watchin’ me?” he asked, voice low and rough like split wet oak.

“No,” she said, still sweet, still calm. “You came lookin’ for me. Even if you ain’t know it yet.

He frowned deeper, throat dry. “You don't know what you're talkin' about ma'am..”

“Mm.” She glanced down. “And yet, here you are, tryin' to defend yourself to a stranger who don't know what she talkin' bout."

The black cat stretched from its place at her feet and wound around his leg, tail brushing his calf like a whisper. Onyakopon looked down, startled, as it rubbed against his dress shoes, purring deep like a hymn. He tensed, stepping forward, and his shadow stretched over her like a giant. Despite their size difference, he felt a sudden weight in the air. Her presence loomed, even sitting, somehow bigger than him. Ony was always the biggest man in any room — 6’7, broad and built like a pillar. But this woman, in a worn rose dress and knitted calm, made him feel small.

She didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink.

He swallowed.

“Who are you?” he asked, voice softer now, but no less honest.

She smiled just slightly. “You already know.”

“I don’t.” She hummed again, “Your dreams are becoming louder brother,” she murmured, threading her yarn again. “Woke the sky last night, Woke the dirt.”

He blinked, unsettled. He didn’t want know how to fight it. Didn’t know how to turn off the uncomfortable truth in her voice. Her fingers moved again. The yarn wound tighter. She added, without looking

It’s this town. Folks plant their evil here, water it, pray over it like it’s corn and wheat. And it grows.”

Ony’s jaw tensed. The cat flicked its tail once like punctuation. She tied off the thread, tucked the yarn into her basket like she was sealing something sacred or dangerous.

“When you start to see the truth,” she said, standing now, her basket in hand, “you’ll know where to find me.”

She lingered in the doorway, eyes on him like she already knew what he’d choose.

“May the Lord keep you, Onyakopon. Even when the ones close to you can’t.”

Then she vanished into the rain.

The church doors creaked as he stepped out, the rain had stopped sunlight dull and sour under a heavy sky. No birds singing. Just the wind dragging itself down the road like a dying hymn.

The woods swallowed her up quick, the church just a shadow behind her. Leaves brushed her shoulders, pine needles crunching beneath her bare feet. She didn’t look back once. Mama trotted at her side, tail high, silent as breath.

“He don’t even know what he is yet,” she whispered, mostly to herself, but also to the cat.

Mama meowed low, like a scoff.

“I know, I know. You don’t like him. Sayin’ I oughta let him stay lost.”

She paused by a fallen log, placing her basket on it carefully. Sat down, drawing her shawl tighter across her shoulders.

“But he’s dreamin’ the way I used to. That means somethin’. Ain’t many left who can see past the veil.”

Mama leapt up beside her, staring off into the trees like she was waiting for somethin, or someone.

The girl smiled faintly. “You always was overprotective.”

Mama blinked slow.

“I ain’t lettin’ him close, not yet. Just watchin’.”

She turned her eyes to the sky, where clouds pressed low and the wind smelled like storm.

“When he’s ready to see the truth,” she murmured, “he’ll know where to find me.”

Mama curled against her side, purring soft and wary.

And the forest, for now, held its breath.

Monday morning came like it always did — quiet, slow, and too bright.

The sky was washed pale like a bedsheet left too long in the sun, and the town lay still beneath it. No rain left, just the memory of it in puddles and soft mud tracks. Ony didn't dream at all last night, just darkness and cold.

Onyakopon stood by the porch steps, box of his mama’s peach pies tucked under one arm, the other gripping a thermos of chicory coffee. Caleb his older brother was already loading up the truck, hands moving fast and efficient, like always.

“Quit draggin’ your feet,” Caleb muttered. “These folks ain’t gonna wait forever.”

Ony grunted, climbing in beside him.

They rode through the back roads in silence for a while, gravel popping under the tires, air sticky with heat. Every house they passed had a porch, and every porch had eyes. Folks rocking slowly in creaking chairs, faces turned their way but not smiling. At the first stop, Miss Irene met them on her porch with a crooked grin and two dollars folded tight in her hand.

“Your mama’s a blessin’, she know that?” she said, voice thin as brittle paper. “Tell her I’m prayin’ for her.”

She didn’t look at Ony when she said it.

By the third house, he noticed it, the way people didn’t laugh the same. Didn’t talk the same. Brother Johnny Al who always joked with him just nodded and shut the screen door with a quick and nasty slam. He saw the elderly man peeking from the blinds as they drove away, he should have worn his glasses today because he swore his eyes flash completely dark.

Another one of their regulars wouldn't meet his eyes during prayer, just muttered “Amen” too fast and wiped sweat off his brow that wasn’t there.

The last stop was by the church, where Sister Myra handed Caleb her tithe and asked them to “keep an extra prayer for the sinful.” She smiled at his brother when she said it, but Ony felt it cut anyway when it dropped as she looked at him duly

By noon, Ony’s chest felt tight. Not like fear like being studied. Like his skin was a page someone was reading line by line. He wondered if this is his Jesus felt when they read his commandments though Caleb didn’t notice, or pretended not to. He was good at that.

Caleb was humming to himself on the drive back, fingers tapping the wheel in rhythm, until Ony finally spoke.

“Something’s off,” Ony said, quiet.

Caleb didn’t look at him when he responded, just snorted dismissively. “It’s Monday. That’s what’s off.”

“I’m serious.” Ony’s voice was low, almost unsure. “Like somethin’ shifted. Like the world ain’t sittin’ right on its bones no more.”

“Somethin’ off,” he said again, quieter now, letting the words hang in the cab.

His long legs stretched out in the passenger seat, feet braced like he was expecting a turn that never came.

Caleb finally glanced at him, just a flick of the eye, jaw tight. Then laughed, short and sharp.

“Boy, you feel off ‘cause you always by yourself, hidin’ in your own head like some daydreamin’ woman. You need to study more. With me and With Pa. Need to find you a wife. Get you right.”

“...A wife?”

The word stuck in Ony’s throat, and just like that she was there. Not in body but in that sudden, dangerous way dreams slide into daylight. She wasn’t doing anything grand just sitting on a porch, elbows on her knees, eyes half-lidded like she knew every secret he ever kept. Humming low. Thread slipping through her fingers like it had a mind of its own. Like he did.

Ony blinked slow, like the words took a second to land again he repeated "A wife.."

Caleb went on, voice firmer now. “You feel off ‘cause you always stuck in your damn head, day dreamin’. Walkin’ around like you waitin’ on signs and visions instead of doin’ what men do.”

Ony turned to him, slow. “And what’s that?”

“Work. Worship. Wife. Provide. That’s the order. That’s how Pa did it. That’s how I do it. You think I didn’t feel strange too before I married Leah? Thought the whole world was wrong. Now look, she carryin’ my child, and I sleep just fine.”

Ony shook his head, jaw tightening. “So you think I’m crazy ‘cause I ain’t found nobody to lay up under yet?”

“I think you lonely,” Caleb snapped. “And lonely men start believin’ in all kinds of foolishness.”

They pulled into the driveway and sat in silence, the weight of everything pressing down like the summer heat.

Caleb finally broke it, voice low and hard. “I think somethin’ needs to fix you. You been strange for weeks. Folks see it. You don’t even try no more—don’t talk, don’t help with the sermons, barely speak to Ma. And now you sittin’ here talkin’ like the sky’s fallin’.”

Ony turned his head to the window, jaw tight. “You don’t see what I see.”

“No, I don’t. And that’s the damn problem. You always talkin’ in riddles. Bein’ quiet ain’t the same as bein’ deep.” Caleb’s voice was sharp. “You need to come back to earth, Ony. You ain’t no damn prophet. You just lost.”

Ony’s voice was cold, clipped. “Maybe you’re the lost one if you think a woman and a baby in this rotting town gonna fix anything.”

Caleb’s eyes narrowed. “So you disrespectin’ the Bible teachings, boy?”

Ony didn’t look at him. Just said quietly,

“Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return.”

Caleb turned to face him, brow furrowed. Ony finally met his brother’s eyes. “That don’t sound like disrespect,” Ony said, voice flat. “That sound like a man knows this world don’t owe him nothin’. Not comfort. Not clarity. Not no wife or baby to fix what’s broke inside.”

Ony opened the door and stepped out, boots hitting the dirt like punctuation. The screen door creaked faintly in the distance, wind brushing against the trees. Caleb stayed in the truck for a second longer, jaw flexing, breath shallow. Then he shoved the door open.

“You always pullin’ them verses like a blade,” Caleb snapped, rounding the truck

“Think that makes you more holy? Makes you a better God-fearing man than me?”

Ony didn’t answer, just walked slow toward the porch, hands in his pockets like nothing touched him. Caleb caught up fast, grabbing his arm. " I’m talkin’ to you.”

Ony yanked back. “And I heard you. You mad ‘cause I know what I’m talkin’ about, and it don’t line up with your little box of how a man supposed to be.”

Caleb shoved him then, not hard, but hard enough.

“You think knowin’ scripture make you better than me? You think starin’ off into space and spittin’ riddles make you more of a man?”

Ony pushed him back, this time with force.

“I think pretendin’ like a wife and a baby make the rot go away is a lie. I think that makes you the fool.”

They were close now, breath hot, shoulders squared. From the porch came a soft creak the screen door opening slow.

Their mother stepped down from the porch, robe tied tight at the waist, her expression unreadable — but her eyes sharp as ever. Leah hovered behind her, one hand on her stomach, eyes wide.

“That’s enough out here,” she said again, sterner now. “I don’t care who’s feelin’ what you don’t raise your voices like that on this land.”

Caleb’s chest was still heaving, fists balled at his sides, but he dropped his eyes. Ony, jaw locked, He looked at her, really looked at her and something in him softened.

“I’ll be back ‘fore supper,” he said quietly.

Then he leaned in, pressed a quick, reverent kiss to her forehead.

“Love you, Mama.”

She nodded, the way only a mother could like she saw through him but loved him anyway.

As Ony stepped off the porch, he brushed past Caleb, shoulder knocking into his brother’s like punctuation. Deliberate. Firm.

Caleb turned after him, lips parted like he had more to say, but whatever it was, he swallowed it.

Leah reached for his hand from the porch.

“Let him go,” she said gently.

“He don’t need to wander,” Caleb muttered. Their mother didn’t look at him when she answered.

“Maybe he do.”

Onyakopon walked with no aim, boots kicking up dust as the cicadas screamed louder than the thoughts in his head. The town stretched out around him, crooked and quiet all heatwaves and peeling paint and eyes he couldn’t see but felt. His hands were in his pockets, his jaw still clenched.

He didn’t know where he was going, Nowhere, really but it felt like somewhere

Like something was pulling.

The sun hung thick and low, dripping gold between the trees, and for a second everything felt too still like the world had paused to hear his steps. Then he saw it.

A black cat, perched on a crumbling stone fence just ahead. Its fur looked wet, almost shining. It didn’t move when he approached.

Just stared, eyes like glass marbles catching the light. He slowed and the cat didn’t blink, didn't flinch. Just waited.

Ony felt a chill crawl up his neck despite the heat.

“You lost?” he murmured, barely louder than the wind. The cat tilted its head, eyes squinting like his question offended it, then turned. Leaping down, slipping into the brush like it had somewhere to be and maybe, just maybe, he was supposed to follow. So, he'd stand there for a while listening, waiting - for what exactly? He wasn't so sure himself.

Staring at the place where the cat had vanished. His breath slowed, the tension in his shoulders settling into something heavier. He didn’t move, just listened to the buzz of the heat, the rustle of leaves.

Thinking about turning around. About going home. Sitting down with his family at dinner telling them he was ready to look for a wife, asking his father to mentor him. Mold him to be just like him and Caleb. About pretending he hadn’t felt something shift deep in his gut the second he saw that cat.

Maybe Caleb was right.

Maybe he was strange.

Maybe he was just lonely.

A sharp, irritated meow snapped him from the thought. There it was again — the black cat, now sitting neatly a few paces behind him, tail curled tight, ears pointing upward, eyes narrowed like it was waiting on a child dragging their feet. It meowed again, louder this time, then stood and turned. Walked ahead slowly, stopping every few feet like it was checking to see if he’d catch on. Ony swallowed. Then, without a word, he followed.

The cat cut through a thicket like it had somewhere to be, glancing back only once before Ony followed. Trees arched above him like ribs, the woods swallowing sound until all he heard was his breath and the soft thud of his boots on earth. It didn’t feel like he was walking anymore. More like being led. They came to a clearing a patch of light cracked open like an eye between the trees, and there she was. She sat on an old quilt, colors faded like memory, her back to him. Her clothes clung loose and thin in the heat nothing like what women wore outside the house. Nothing a preacher’s son had any business looking at. But he did.

She was knitting again. Hands moving fast, like she was trying to exorcise something with every twist of thread. Her dark coils slipped loose, brushing her cheeks as she muttered to herself, angry and fast. The cat trotted over to her and curled up like it had been expected.

Without looking up, she said, “Thought you didn’t like him, Mama.”

Ony took a careful step forward, brow furrowed. “Your mutt don’t like me?”

The girl turned sharp, like she’d been waiting on that line. Her hands froze mid-stitch, and her head snapped over one shoulder. That chubby, soft face from church? It scrunched up like a storm cloud now, eyes suddenly sharp cutting.

“Only mutt here is you.”

Even the cat hissed, low and warning, tail flicking once like a whip before settling back down beside her with a satisfied grunt.

Ony stiffened.

She wasn’t sweet like she was in the Lord’s house. Not quiet and warm like the girl humming behind the pews. Her energy was strange now. Bristled. Her lips were dry, chapped pink from too much sun, and her voice carried something jagged underneath it.

“You always follow stray things?” she asked, threading again quick and harsh like the yarn had done her wrong.

He didn’t answer at first.

Didn’t know how.

Didn’t know why his feet brought him here at all. “You was knittin’ in church,” he said finally, more to himself than her.

“I was.”

“You knittin’ now.”

“Got hands, don’t I?”

He squinted at her, frustrated and fascinated all at once. “You always talk like this?” She shrugged, didn’t look up. “Only when men ask me stupid things.”

Ony winced, rubbing the back of his neck. His boot scuffed at the dirt, slow and awkward. He didn’t have much practice with women, his world was made up of his mother, elder ladies at church, and Leah when she needed something fetched from the pantry.

“Apologies, ma’am,” he mumbled, voice low and careful.

The girl paused. Her fingers stilled against the needles, eyes flicking up to study him for the first time without all that steel in them.

“No need to apologize,” she said, gentler now. “The day hasn’t been the kindest to me.”

She yanked at her project something half-made and angry with color, thread coiled tight like it was holding its breath. “I shouldn’t take it out on you. If anything, I should be used to it by now.” She huffed, more to the yarn than to him, jaw clenching like there was more she wanted to say but didn’t trust the space between them enough yet.

Ony shifted his weight, thumb hooking in his belt loop. His voice came quiet, almost a whisper. “Day ain’t been kind to me neither.”

That made her pause again. Just long enough for the cat to flick its tail against her hip, like it was waiting too.

She didn’t look at him when she spoke next, just patted the empty space beside her blanket, fingers brushing away twigs and grass. “Well… you can sit if you want. You look like you been walking without knowin’ where to land.”

Ony hesitated. His eyes flicked down, he hadn’t really looked before, not properly. But now the way the fabric clung to her arms, the soft rise of her chest as she breathed, the bare skin of her calves peeking beneath the hem, it struck him all at once.

It wasn’t scandalous in the way church folks used the word. But it was… intimate. Delicate. Dressed like that, back home, she’d be in her own bedroom or padding barefoot through the kitchen fetching tea for her mother. Not out here in the woods with a stranger.

His throat worked as he swallowed. “You sure?”

She gave a half-smile without looking at him. “I wouldn’t’ve asked if I wasn’t.”

He rubbed the back of his neck again, cheeks burning as he eased himself down beside her careful to leave a respectful distance, hands resting flat against his thighs like he was trying not to touch anything at all. The cat stretched between them like it was measuring the space.

They sat in silence.

Not the kind that crawled under your skin like Sunday tension or lingered like unsaid prayers, but something softer. Still. Ony sat with his hands folded, shoulders loose for once. The weight he always carried in his spine, the pressure to square his chest, to be something righteous and loud — eased without permission.

The girl kept knitting. Her fingers moved fast, urgent almost, like she was working through a thought with each loop and pull. The cat yawned, curling into a perfect comma between them.

Then, without looking at him, she said it low:

“Your head’s loud again. Makin’ the wind brush by a lil too fast. Gettin chilly. ”

Ony blinked, brows pulling together.

“Just breathe,” she added.

He did. And it wasn’t a deep breath or a proud one, but something real. It slid out of him slow, quiet. A breath he hadn’t known he was holding.

The wind slowed. The trees settled.

So did he.

The silence between them didn’t ache like it did at home. It stretched warm, quiet—not something to fix, just something to feel. Ony let his eyes drift to her hands, how fast they moved, like they had somewhere to be.

“You always knit this fast?” he asked, voice low.

She gave a soft shrug, not looking up. “Only when I’m tryin’ not to cuss or cry. It helps. Pullin’ somethin’ ugly outta me and making it useful.”

Ony nodded slowly, watching the rhythm of her fingers. The thread danced between her knuckles like it knew a secret language.

“You… think you could show me how?”

That made her pause. She looked at him for a beat, then down at her lap, like she was weighing it. Finally, she held up a half-finished square of fabric — dark, tight with frustration.

“You sure?” she asked. “Most men too proud to sit still with something this soft.”

“I’m not most men,” Ony murmured, not meeting her eyes.

She smiled, not wide but real, and shifted a little to the side. " I’ll show you.”

He shifted closer, slow like the earth might split if he moved too fast. She handed him the needles, warm from her fingers, and the yarn, coarse but strangely comforting.

“Keep your hands steady,” she said, voice softer now. “Let it pass through like water. Don’t grab it so tight.”

Ony tried, fumbling at first. She reached over, guiding his fingers without making a big deal out of it. Her hands were smaller than his, but surer—she shaped him like she did the thread, gentle but firm. “You’re teachin’ me to do women’s work,” he muttered, half teasing.

She snorted. “I’m teachin’ you to keep your mind from rot. Don’t matter what shape the work come in.”

That made him smile without thinking.

“You always talk like that?” he asked. he asked, glancing at her from beneath his lashes. “Like you halfway know what God whisperin’ before He even say it?” She didn’t answer right away. Just tilted her head, lips twitching like she was deciding how much to give away.

“You asked me that before,” she said finally.

He blinked. “Did I?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Well…” He scratched the back of his neck. “You talk like my granny, but you don’t look eighty-six.”

That made her laugh—real and full, spilling out of her like light. She leaned back a little, grinning at him. “Your granny must’ve been sharp.”

“She was,” Ony said, quiet now, surprised at the warmth threading through his chest. He let the silence sit between them again, but it didn’t feel empty — it felt close. And when their eyes met for just a second too long, something shifted.

Not loud. Not sudden. Just… true.

Then nip.

“Agh—damn!” Ony yelped, jerking slightly as Mama, the cat, sunk her teeth gently into his thigh like she’d had enough of the moment.

The girl rolled her eyes. “Mama don’t like when people get too comfortable.”

“She got good timing,” Ony muttered, rubbing his leg and glaring at the cat, who looked smug and settled right back down beside her. “Guess she figured you needed some grounding.”

They both laughed, the weightlifting again, but not gone. Just resting for now. Ony glanced down at the cat, still lounging like she owned the blanket and the girl both. He reached out a slow hand—Mama narrowed her eyes but didn’t move.

“How long you had her?” he asked, voice lower now, thoughtful.

The girl’s fingers slowed around the yarn. “Seven years,” she said, quiet.

He looked up. “That long?”

“She showed up a few hours after my mama passed.” Her voice was steady, but there was something buried in it—like a scar covered by a silk scarf. “Just… appeared on the porch. Sat right at the door like she was waitin’. Like she knew.”

Ony said nothing, only watched her face.

“I like to think she is my mama. In some way,” she went on, threading the needle through the yarn faster now. “Mama always said she’d come back as a black cat. Said it’d suit her. Misunderstood. Proud. Particular. Protective.”

Her lips curved faintly. “And she was all three.” Mama let out a slow purr, as if in agreement.

“I believe that,” Ony murmured.

She looked over at him, brows lifted slightly.

“Why?”

He shrugged, then shook his head. “I don’t know. Just feels true. Like the way certain songs make you cry even if you don’t understand the words.”

She smiled at that, soft, almost grateful.

“You always talk like that?” she teased.

He grinned. “Guess we even now.”

Their laughter faded into the breeze, the knitting needles tapping steady again. Somewhere in all of it, Ony realized — he hadn’t thought about the tightness in his chest for minutes now. Minutes that felt like something more than time.

The wind shifted, sharp and sudden, cutting through the thick afternoon air like a knife dipped in river water. It brushed against Ony’s arms and made the fine hairs on his skin rise. But it wasn’t the cold that made him stiffen.

It was the girl.

She froze. Fingers gone still, the thread limp in her lap. Her body locked up like a porch swing caught mid-sway. Even Mama, curled smug and sleepy just moments ago, lifted her head, ears flicking forward, eyes narrowed at something just beyond the trees.

“You alright?” Ony asked, leaning a little closer, voice hushed like he didn’t want to disturb whatever had just walked through them. She didn’t answer right away. Just blinked like she was trying to remember how. Then nodded slowly, though it didn’t quite reach her shoulders.

“Sometimes the wind don’t come to cool,” she murmured, barely audible. “Sometimes it’s just passin’ through, carryin’ somethin’ behind it.” Ony glanced around, suddenly more aware of how quiet it had gotten. No birds. No rustle of leaves. Just wind and the low hum of something beneath it.

“What’s it carryin’?”

She shook her head. “Don’t know yet. But Mama felt it too.”

The cat was on her feet now, tail low, pressed against the girl's side like she might need to bolt — or block. “You should get home soon,” the girl said gently, but her eyes didn’t meet his. They were somewhere else. “Sun’s not as strong as it looks.”

Ony didn’t move.

“I’ll walk you,” he offered, his voice surer than he felt.

But she just gave a tiny smile, one that didn’t match the new edge in the air. “I’ve walked through worse.”

They stood at the edge of the clearing now, where the trees swallowed the sun in long shadows. Ony hadn’t realized how far they’d wandered — or maybe how far she’d led him. The cat weaved between their ankles, brushing its side against Ony’s boot one last time before settling back by her feet.

He took a step back, not wanting to go, but knowing the air had changed again. “You gon’ tell me your name?”

She paused, gathering up her needles and thread. The question hung in the air like smoke before she finally spoke, voice light but low, like a secret.

“You already know it.”

“I don’t.”

She looked up, lips curving into something half-playful, half-knowing. “Well, that’s what makes it fun.”

He gave her a look, amused and a little flustered. “Alright then… I’m Onyakopon.”

“I know,” she said softly, the smile not leaving her face. He blinked, surprised, then chuckled. “’Course you do.”

Their hands met then — a shake at first, but it lingered. Her hand was soft but firm, warmer than the wind that had just passed.

They didn’t speak as they held it. Just let it stretch, like maybe neither of them was quite ready to leave. Then her fingers curled, just slightly. “Be mindful,” she said, voice almost too quiet for the air. “Of what you carry. Of whom you follow. Everything that feels wrong right now. It's not all in your head.”

Ony’s brows drew together. He opened his mouth to ask what she meant, but she was already turning away, Mama trotting ahead like she knew the way. He stood there watching, rooted in place, as the girl moved between the trees, slipping into them like smoke. Her nightgown caught the last bit of light, white and fluttering like wings.

Then she was gone.

Like something holy. Or something beautifully haunting.

By the time Ony reached the porch, the sun was kissing the edge of the horizon, everything soaked in that strange amber glow that made shadows long and soft. His boots thudded against the wooden steps, and the familiar creak under the third board welcomed him home like it always did. Inside, the house was warm and humming with domestic rhythm. Dishes clinked softly, the smell of stewed okra and baked bread thick in the air. His mother stood at the head of the table, her sleeves rolled to the elbow, humming a hymn under her breath as she laid out silverware. Leah was beside her, placing the cornbread down with careful hands over a dishcloth.

They both looked up when he stepped in.

His mother’s eyes lingered. “Told you I’d be back before supper,” Ony said, brushing a hand over his neck, suddenly conscious of how the wind still clung to his shirt, like he’d brought the outside in with him.

"Mm make sure you wash them hands before sittin' at my table." She didn’t say more and went back to setting forks.

Leah’s eyes flickered between the two brothers as Caleb appeared from the back hall, wiping his hands on a dish towel. Ony tensed instinctively, but Caleb didn’t say anything just stared at him for a second too long. The air in the room wasn’t hostile. But it wasn’t settled either. Ony felt it swirl around him, curious and careful, like everyone was waiting for something to crack.

He moved toward the sink to wash his hands, nodding toward his mother as he passed. “Smells good in here, Ma.”

She nodded again, this time more gently, then glanced toward Caleb like she was measuring something unsaid between them.

No one asked where he’d gone.

And he didn’t offer it.

But as he dried his hands and found his usual seat, he thought of her—bare feet in the grass, humming low, thread dancing between her fingers like it had a mind of its own.

The clink of forks against ceramic was the loudest sound at the table. Ma had made stew, rich and spiced, but it tasted like sawdust in Onyakopon’s mouth.

“Had a little heat between you two earlier,” Pa said without looking up, spoon cutting through his bowl. “Behold, how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity.”

Ony didn’t look at Caleb, though he felt the verse land like a stone between them. Psalm 1:33, yeah — but it had the weight of Cain and Abel behind it, and they all knew it.

Caleb just scoffed under his breath.

“Yesterday’s service ended early,” Caleb said casually, like a man mentioning the weather. “Soon as that girl came 'long Whole congregation cleared out like they caught the plague.

Ma sneered without missing a beat. “Never met such an unlady-like woman. Wandering about with a devil’s pet, whisperin’ to trees like they whisper back. But Lord knows she can stitch. Shame every thread feel like a curse.”

Ony’s grip tightened around his spoon. He stared down into his stew, letting the broth steam up his face like fog. He didn’t say anything — not about her hands, not about her voice, not about the way she said his name like she’d always known it.

Ony felt a strange ache twist inside him at her words, a pull toward the woman Ma so openly despised. He kept his jaw tight, the silence settling even heavier around the table.

Leah shifted uneasily, but no one else spoke. The candle flickered low, and the weight of unspoken things hung thick between them.

“Boy,” Pa said suddenly, voice firm. “You best get out your head. A man’s got no business sittin’ at his father’s table starin�� off into the dark.”

Ony blinked slowly, but didn’t answer.

“You think you grown? Then act like it. Ain’t no room in this house for cloudy minds and foolish obsessions. You wanna be a man, be one. Handle your kin. Get your head on straight. Get your spirit right.”

Still, Ony didn’t speak — not to him. His eyes stayed low, locked on the chipped edge of his plate. Then, like something creeping up from his chest without permission, his voice slid out low, almost like it didn’t belong to him

“What makes her a bad person for lovin’ trees a lil bit?”

The room froze.

Ma’s hand stilled halfway to her cup. Leah’s fork clinked quietly against her plate. Caleb leaned back slow in his chair, face unreadable. Pa narrowed his eyes. “What you just say?”

“I just mean…” Ony muttered, spearing a piece of fried okra with his fork, “she’s a woman with a pet cat? That knits.” He shrugged like it was nothing, then stuffed the food in his mouth, chewing slow, like he hadn’t just cracked the air in two.

Ma’s eyes narrowed. “That thing ain’t no pet. Strays like that don’t belong in the house of the Lord — or round decent folk like the ones in our community.”

Caleb scoffed under his breath, reaching for his cup. “Ain’t about the cat. It’s the way she carries herself. Like she knowin’ things she ain’t supposed to.”

“That woman ain’t right, Ony,” Pa said, voice low and warning. “Mark my words. Ain’t no good ever come from women who walk like they float and talk like they pray to the moon.”

Ony didn’t respond. Just kept chewing, like maybe the weight of the room couldn’t touch him if he didn’t let it. But his ears were hot, and his throat ached in a way that food couldn’t soothe.

Leah, quiet all this time, finally spoke, voice soft as usual. “She knitted my apron. The one with the sunflowers. It’s… pretty.”

Ma turned sharply. “And you best not wear it again. We don’t know what spirits she stitched into that thread.”

Ony’s silverware scraped the plate a little too loud when he's told up.

“I’ll go wash up,” he mumbled, though his plate wasn’t empty. “Y’all keep on eatin’. Thank you for the dinner mama"

He didn’t wait for permission. Just turned and walked toward the back, the screen door creaking open as he stepped onto the porch, letting the night air slap him clean.

Behind him, the candle flickered.

The back porch creaked under his weight, old wood sighing like it remembered too much. No one came out here anymore — not since Granny passed. Her wicker chair still sat in the corner, covered in a thin film of dust and memories. Ony didn’t sit there. He chose the steps instead, letting the night press in close, heavy and still.

Crickets sang. The wind tugged gently at the trees, and for the first time all day, nobody asked him to be anything. He let his shoulders drop. Let his jaw unclench.

Then came the sound — soft, slow, deliberate.

The screen door moaned open behind him.

He didn’t turn, not at first, until he heard the light step on the porch — and then a bottle clink. He glanced over his shoulder.

Leah stood there, caught like a deer in her round belly stretching the front of her dress. In one hand, a dusty wine bottle; in the other, just shame.

“It won’t hurt the baby,” she said quickly, blinking like she might cry or laugh or both.

Ony raised his eyebrows and looked back out at the dark yard. “I get why you need it,” he said flatly. “Dealin’ with this family’ll make you wanna drink holy water straight from the font.”

That earned him a quiet laugh — small and bitter.

Leah walked over and sat beside him with a sigh, the bottle tucked between her knees. “I ain’t drinkin’ for real. Just wanted to hold it. Make it feel like I had a choice, even if I don’t.”

Ony hummed, a low sound in his throat.

“You and me both.”

They sat in silence for a beat, the air between them not tense, just… lived in.

“You ever think ‘bout just leavin’?” she asked, voice soft, eyes fixed on the dark stretch of trees.

“All the time.”

She nodded like she expected that. “Caleb says I should be grateful. That I’m safe here. That the Lord provided. But safe don’t feel like freedom, does it?”

Ony didn’t answer.

Not out loud and the silence stretched on the kind that didn’t beg to be filled. Just two people watching the dark, pretending the quiet didn’t know all their secrets.

Leah leaned back on her hands, her fingers curling around the edge of the step. “That girl from service yesterday…” she started, voice light but lined with something sharper, “she the reason you were gone all afternoon?”

Ony didn’t look at her. Just let the question hang there in the air between them, weightless and heavy all at once.

Leah smiled to herself, not unkind. “She’s... different. Not like folks around here.”

“She’s just a girl,” Ony said finally, though it didn’t sound convincing. Not even to him.

“A girl with a black cat and a stare like she’s already seen how the world ends,” Leah murmured, like she was thinking more than speaking. “She got the whole town feelin’ itchy and lookin’ for salt.”

Ony gave a faint snort. “You 'fraid of her too?”

“No,” Leah said simply. “But I think you are.”

That made him look at her. Really look.

She met his eyes, steady, too old for her years. “Not ‘cause she’s strange. But ‘cause she see somethin’ in you been tryin’ to bury.”

Ony didn’t respond. Couldn’t, really. His throat felt tight.

“She’s not evil. You’re right bout that part. Just a girl with a heavy hurt, a cat, and a different sense of faith. This town… it’s so close-minded, full of fear. The moment someone different comes along, folks scream ‘Satan’ or worse.”

“We used to be friends,” she said after a pause, like weighing whether to share too much. “Before her pa got caught up in some things. Before he disappeared. She was always so strange. Picking up bugs, talking to the ground, like she’d been here a thousand years instead of thirteen.”

She laughed, a soft, distant sound. “I used to joke she was a grandma reincarnated.”

Ony huffed out a soft laugh but then her smile faded, shadowed by memories. “When her daddy vanished, she was… calm. Like the universe does things for a reason. Said everything done in the dark will come to light.”

Her eyes darkened further. “Her mother got real sick after that. Took her own life.” She flicked squeeze the dusty wine bottle, then leaned in closer, voice dropping to a whisper. “Your daddy… I think he’s got

something to do with it all.”

Ony’s heart tightened. "How so?"

“She told me once, before her dad disappeared, he was there. And minutes after he left, her mother… she was found splattered all over her bed.” She made a finger-gun motion, sharp and cutting through the heavy air.

Silence fell again, heavy and still.

Then Leah sniffled — barely — and blinked fast. Her voice wavered, thinner now. “You know… she’s the one who told me I was pregnant before I even knew? I really hope this conversation stays between us.”

She paused, swallowing thickly. “Couple months back, when I was real sick and you and Caleb were out runnin’ errands… she came by. Her and that damn cat. I hadn’t seen her since we were fifteen. Daddy forbid me from ever seein’ her again. Said she was a witch. Imagine my shock when she showed up at my doorstep eleven years later — all grown, and God help me, even more beautiful than when we were kids.”

She let out a shaky breath and laughed weakly, rubbing her stomach.

“She put her hands on my belly like she already knew me. Told me I’d be the most wonderful mother. Like she saw it, clear as day.” Her voice cracked. “Knitted me a little hat… and an apron to fit my belly. Softest thing I ever touched. But then she said somethin’ strange. Told me this wasn’t the place to raise a child. Said I should leave.”

Leah’s eyes lifted to his, wet but steady now.

Leah stayed quiet for a moment, her shoulders hunched and small despite the swell of her belly. The bottle hung loosely in her grip, the wine sloshing quietly like it too was listening.

Then, almost like an afterthought—but heavier than anything she’d said before—she murmured, “Something’s eatin’ your Ma, your Pa… even Caleb. They ain’t the same no more, Ony. I can feel it in my bones.”

She stood carefully, steadying herself with the porch railing. Her eyes met his one last time.

“You take care of yourself, Onyakopon. Don’t let ‘em make you blind to what’s right in front of you.”

She handed him the wine bottle, fingers lingering for a moment on his, then let go. Her silhouette disappeared into the dark hallway behind her, door creaking shut behind her like a breath held too long.

The next morning, Ony woke to a scream that didn’t belong to him for once.

It came from the guest room.

Leah had miscarried.

The house felt like it was holding its breath, heavy and suffocating. Caleb paced the worn floorboards, muttering under his breath, his footsteps sharp and uneven. Leah sat still in the corner, her eyes hollow, the light that had shone there just the night before completely gone.

Onyakopon watched them both, the weight of silence pressing down on him. His Ma and Pa were nowhere to be found — the house was emptier than usual, shadows gathering in every corner like unwelcome guests.

Caleb’s voice cracked as he whispered to no one in particular, “This ain’t right… none of it.”

Leah’s fingers trembled in her lap, her breath shallow, as if the air itself had turned to stone.

Onyakopon stepped closer to Leah, voice low but steady.

“I’m sorry, Leah. For everything.”

She gave a weak nod, eyes shimmering with tears but empty of hope. "You got time Ony. Leave before it touches you too"

Caleb’s pacing stopped abruptly, his shoulders stiffening like a coil about to snap. He glared at Ony, voice rough and sudden.

The house felt like it was holding its breath, thick with tension that clung to the walls like humidity before a storm. Caleb paced the floor in crooked lines, muttering beneath his breath, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. Leah sat on the edge of the couch like her soul had drained out in her sleep, her eyes puffy and distant. She hadn’t spoken more than a whisper since the scream.

Onyakopon stood in the doorway, watching. His parents were nowhere in sight. The house was too still. Wrong.

“I ain’t sayin’ nothin’ to start a fire,” Ony said gently, “but you need to sit, Caleb. You’re gonna wear a hole in the floor.”

Caleb’s steps stopped abruptly. He turned slow, like a puppet pulled too tight on its strings.

“Oh, now you care?” he said, voice dry and full of heat. “Now you got concern?”

Ony blinked. “I’ve always cared.”

“No, you don’t. You stand around lookin’ like you see through everybody, like none of this is real to you. Like we’re fools for tryin’ to build a damn life here.”

Ony’s jaw tightened. “That ain’t fair.”

“Oh, but it’s true,” Caleb spat. “You think I forgot what you said a while back? ‘A wife and baby won’t fix nothin’? You said that. You looked me dead in the eye and said that. Like all this… like Leah—”

His voice cracked. “—like the baby didn’t matter.”

Ony’s voice was low. “I never said they didn’t matter. I said it won’t fix what’s wrong with this place. This town. You know that better than anyone, Caleb.”

“No. What I know is, you mocked me. You sat at that table with your silence and your damn half-smiles and judged me. You think you’re better than me.”

“I don’t—”

Caleb stepped forward, eyes wide, glassy, something off inside them now. “You don’t? Say it with your tongue then. Look me in the face and tell me I’m not a fool for wantin’ more.”

Leah stirred, voice soft. “Caleb—”

“Don’t,” Caleb snapped without looking at her.

Ony held his ground. “You ain’t a fool, Caleb. But you’re acting like one now. You’re hurt, and I get it. But don’t come at me like I put that pain in you.”

“You put the doubt in me!” Caleb roared.

“You were the voice in the back of my head every damn day since she told me she was pregnant. And now look! Gone. Just like everything else in this cursed house.”

There was a beat — the kind of silence that comes before something breaks.

Then Caleb lunged.

The scuffle was quick but violent — desperation making up for lack of form. Ony tried to hold him off, but Caleb fought like he wanted to draw blood, like if he hurt someone else maybe the ache inside him would let up.

Leah shouted, trying to reach them, tears running down her face. “Stop it! Stop!”

Ony finally shoved Caleb back, hard enough to knock him into the wall. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

Caleb’s chest heaved. His eyes were wrong not just angry, but dark, as if something else had stepped into him. Something watching through his face.

“You mocked me,” he said again, quieter now. “You cursed me with your mouth. You always did.”

Ony stepped back, heart pounding. “I ain’t cursed you. This place did.”

Leah stood between them, shaking, one hand stretched out like she was trying to keep them both from falling off a cliff.

“Please, Ony,” she whispered. “Just go."

He didn’t want to. He wanted to fix it — to fix him. But he saw the look in her eyes. That pleading. That fear.

So he turned and walked out the front door.

And behind him, the house groaned.

The air outside slapped his skin like cold judgment. Onyakopon didn’t know when his feet hit the porch or when the front gate swung open — he only remembered the crunch of gravel under his boots and the warm sting of blood trailing down from his eyebrow. His lip was split, throbbing with each breath. The fight with Caleb replayed in flashes behind his eyes, quick and jagged like broken glass.

He kept running.

Not because he was afraid of Caleb, but because he was afraid of what he saw in Caleb.

The sky above had gone dull and gray, not quite evening but no longer day. Birds had gone quiet. The cicadas, too. All that remained was the pounding in his ears and the sharp inhale-exhale of lungs trying to keep up.

He didn’t even realize where he was until his knees buckled beneath him, and he hit the soft grass with a grunt. Hands splayed wide, he pressed his back to the earth, letting the air wrap around him. He was in the clearing.

The tall reeds swayed around him like ghosts with no mouths, whispering only through movement. And the sky above looked... too wide. Too still.

He lay there, panting. Sweat mixed with blood. His chest rose and fell like he’d outrun death itself.

And maybe he had.

Or maybe he’d run straight into it.

His chest rose and fell like a storm settling into silence. The sky above blurred, hazy from tears he didn’t know he’d let fall. Grass pressed cool and damp against the back of his neck. His lip stung, and his brow pulsed where Caleb’s fist had landed. Blood still crusted warm at the corner of his mouth.

He closed his eyes. Just for a second.

When he opened them—

She was there.

Standing over him like a painting left out in the rain. Skirt brushing the wild grass, curls coiled like shadows catching sunlight, eyes so ancient and wide they swallowed the sky behind her. Her face was soft, full of moonlight and mourning. The kind of beautiful that didn’t beg to be noticed — it just was, like wind or thunder. There was dirt on her hem, leaves tangled in her sleeves like she’d risen straight from the woods, or maybe the earth itself. Her cat, that little ghost pressed against her ankles, then padded forward, tail flicking, and nipped at Ony’s fingers with a quiet warning.

He flinched and blinked like he might still be dreaming.

“You,” he whispered.

“I always come when the house sends you away,” she said simply.

She knelt beside him, hand grazing the grass just beside his temple, never touching just near enough to feel the air between them hum.

“You’re hurt again, physically this time”

“Didn’t come here on purpose.”

“I know,” she said. “But your blood always finds its way back to me.”

The cat settled between them, purring low, eyes unblinking like it knew all the secrets neither of them could say. Onyakopon studied her — the way her presence dulled the pain just by existing, the way her eyes never flickered with fear. He wanted to say something. Apologize for the world. Ask how she knew so much. Ask how she still smiled like hope hadn’t died with the rest of this town’s soul.

Instead, he asked, “You always show up like this?”

She shrugged, curls bouncing lightly.

“Maybe I’m your guardian angel,” she said, and for a second, he thought she might mean it.

Then, her voice dropped to something softer, sadder.

“Or maybe I just know what it’s like to get pushed out by people who pretend they love you.”

She stood again without a word, brushing dirt from her skirt like it was nothing new, like she’d done this a hundred times before. The cat circled his shoulder once, then darted ahead into the trees.

“You comin’?” she asked over her shoulder, already turning.

Onyakopon hesitated. He should’ve gone back home. Should’ve checked on Leah. Should’ve tried, one more time, to reach the brother that looked at him like a stranger now.

But instead, he pushed himself off the ground, every bruise and scrape a sharp reminder of what waiting there would cost.

He followed her.

They moved through the woods like ghosts her steps barely stirring the leaves, him limping just behind. The path wasn’t marked, but she never second-guessed her turns. Like the forest knew her. Or she knew it.

A weather-worn cottage appeared just beyond a thick grove of oaks, roof sagging under moss and time. Wind chimes made of bones and rusted spoons tinkled faintly from the porch. A line of herbs dried beneath the windows, and a narrow chimney puffed with gentle smoke.

“Don’t mind the mess,” she murmured, holding the door open.

Inside, it smelled of lavender, ash, and something green not rot, not decay, but age. Lived-in. Safe.

He stepped in, and the warmth hit him like a balm. The fire crackled. The cat disappeared somewhere deeper in the house. She gestured toward an old kitchen chair.

“Sit.”

He obeyed.

She moved through the space like she belonged in every shadow of it. Wet a cloth, brought over an old metal tin, crouched before him like he was something precious.

She wiped his lip first, gentle, patient. Then his brow.

“You bruise easy,” she said, voice nearly teasing.

“You always nurse people back to life in the woods?”

“Just you.”

He didn’t ask why. He just watched her, close now the fine lines in her expression, the way she focused like this mattered, like he mattered. Her touch was warm, but her eyes. . . her eyes were still carrying something ancient.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

She didn’t respond right away. Just dabbed at the last of the blood, then looked up at him, expression unreadable.

“Next time,” she said softly, “don’t wait ‘til the world breaks your face to come find me again. Too handsome for all these and bruises."

Her fingers lingered on his chin, gentle, almost tender. He caught the faint scent of lavender and honey on her skin and felt heat rise in his cheeks. His eyes flickered down to his lap, suddenly shy under her steady gaze.

For a long moment, they just stayed like that close enough to feel the warmth of each other’s breath, the unspoken words hanging in the air. The cat nipped playfully at his fingers, breaking the spell, but even then, her smile held a softness that made his heart tighten.

"You hungry?"

He smiled softly meeting her eyes again, " I could eat."

She chuckled, the sound light and unexpected in the heavy silence. “Good. I don’t do fancy, but I can fix you something real.”

She stood and moved toward the small kitchen, the cat padding behind her like a loyal shadow. Ony followed slowly, still feeling the strange comfort of her presence like the world had shifted just enough to let a little light in.

[viamia]

Sooo I haven't been getting requests lately, so I'm just gonna make some hcs on my own time until request come in. So here's one

The SDJ boys (and Gallgher mansion + Dachabo) and how they sleep with you(plus some hcs).

Tw:Mostly fluff and wholesome, a couple of swears(sorta on that one) and implied sexual themes. if you are uncomfortable with any of these, leave now.

Jack: He would 101% just engulf you in his arm, man is a giant teddybear, and you can't tell me otherwise. If you ever fell asleep from exhaustion from work when you got back home, he'd definitely carry you to bed and cuddle up to you. And if you allow him to, he'll also help you shower and clean yourself up :>

Ian: Now this boy, he would definitely cling on to you while he sleeps. I also headcanon him as either a very light sleeper or the kind of person who can sleep through a fire alarm or something like that. He'd definitely sleep talk. I can just imagine him taking a nap, then mumbling the most random things sometimes while he cuddles you. I feel like he'd also be a little spoon like, 90% of the time. He may be a cheater, but I fuking luv him-

Nick: He'd definitely sleep with you with his pomeranians Pico and Cheese. I feel like he'd give Lil love nibbles while he sleeps. (mf is a sleep biter I just know it) Considering he's a adult movie actor, I feel like he'd be the big spoon.

Shaun:Big spoon little spoon, man goes both ways. He just wants to hug and love up on you. He's all cuddled up to you on the couch, bed, anywhere that's comfy. (I just see him as a really affectionate guy tbh) He'd definitely pet moonpie chill with yall on the couch and bed, Lil kitty deserves loving too :>. He snores. But not like giant level snoring, more like the little Snortsbhere and there, sometimes it's a bit hard to sleep while he snores cause it slowly increases in volume over time.

Bo:This motherfuker said fuk sleep, I'm fuking them. Jk jk, but seriously, he'd bite you randomly while you either slept or cuddled. This dog is hard to deal with sometimes. Compared to his normal mode when you first see him, his feed me mode, of course, is much bigger and more cushiony cause of his height and size. He'd be hella warm too, keeping you nice and toasty on cold nights, but in hot summer months, he's in his normal mode cause it doesn't give off much heat.

Taylor:My baby boi I luv him so much. Anyways, knowing Taylor, I feel he'd be clingy like Ian, but on a lower degree. I have a couple headcanons for him, such as him snoring sometimes, biting randomly while he sleeps, sleep talking and so forth. For the the biting, mf-er wrote lewd fanfic with Mc and him in the game. I believe if he starts to about think said fanfic or...something else about you, mf finna get hard. But overall, he'd just be cuddling and giving Lil kisses throughout the night.

Elias:Can ghosts even sleep??? So for Elias, I'm not sure what I can say, considering he's a God darn ghost. But if he can, he'd be a Hella quiet sleeper (well he is dead so-) sometimes when he sleeps with you, he'll accidentally phase through the bed and through the floor or just, into another room. If you're able to keep a grip on him somehow, USE HIS CHEST AS a PILLOW PLS. His chest would be so damn comfy, I swear. Plus, he'd be really clingy cause the poor guy just wants to be loved :(. He'd feel so damn cold since he's dead, and sometimes the blood will drip onto your pillows.

I hope yall like these hcs. And remember, feel free to request me anytime :)

[dream-a-little-bit-longer]

Run rabbit, run.

HABIT x TRANSMASC! PLUS SIZED! HAIRY! READER

half monster HABIT hc + fic

Tw: HABIT being HABIT | violence| marijuana usage | HABIT is obsessed with t-guy pussy god whispered this in my ear at 3 am | HABIT is obsessed with FAT T-guy pussy | LIGHTLY TOUCHED ON FEEDING | implied MC running on caffeine and weed and not very much sleep| monster habit (I GOT CARRIED AWAY IM SORRY NO IM NOT)

For 🐛 anon

For Evan fuckers: Oh, deer!

-We all know this man is a sadist and masochist, we can't pretend we don't.

-hes a biter!!! He will bite you! Like hard enough to need stitches. You've had a few embarrassing ER visits. (Habit can dress wounds and stitch you up but he just likes how embarrassed you get about it)

- he and Evan are very different in bed, but one thing they have in common is giving head like a god. Dude low-key is obsessed with your cunt.

-but he's good at a 'sloppy drooling messy' kind of head that Ev cannot provide.

- fuck he's in love with your body. Like, he grabs your belly and just plays with it, literally salivating at the idea of leaving hickeys.

- he fucks you in a mirror so you can watch the way your body moves as he fucks you.

-oh and he loves your boobs , hairy man tits? Who fucking wouldn't.

- he stares at them constantly. You couldn't get him to tell you the color of your eyes but he has every hair on your chest memorized 🫡.

- he's into prey and predator dynamics, he gets so incredibly hard when he's chasing you through the woods he can't help himself.

- Vinny has been caught in this game of yours by accident a few times , and if he finds you, covered in bite marks half naked with twigs in your hair and he just gives you one of these looks:

- HABITs into knife play, you have lots of scars from it and he doesn't feel bad Abt it 😔✊.

- HE WANTS TO BE PEGGED but with one of the ones with a silicone grinding thing inside so it grinds right against your t-dick.

-hes a dom bottom mind you.

- but you peg him and he becomes a stupid feral mess.

(so obsessed with the idea I wrote the fanfic Abt it so it's going here instead of at the end)

He could feel your hairy belly press against his back as the silicone abused his prostate; drool pooling on the corner of his lip, looking back and admiring you he let out a purr. You look away, you can't look at the smug very fucked drunk grin you're sure he's giving you.

Your hips stutter against him and he tenses as you hit his prostate dead on, his eyes roll back and his mouth hangs open as you wring another orgasm from him.

You begin to slow your hips, grinding the silicone tip slowly inside of him, exhaustion and want find respite in your bones.

You need to stop and cum, this grinding wasn't enough, you needed more, his tongue, his cock, his fingers his anything.

He presses against you, back arching with the curve of your stomach, resting against it as he comes into a position that shouldn't be comfortable.

You avoid his eye contact and his thumb, middle finger and index finger grab at your face, turning your head harshly to look at him.

His eyes bore into yours and it makes you want to squeeze your own shut, but you just can't, like he has some kind of hold on your mind you cant avoid his gaze.

His face is flushed, and he's drooling. But his eyes, while dilated and wet with tears, were strong and threatening.

"I didn't say you could slow down rabbit." He rolls his hips against yours and it sends pleasure shooting across your body.

"Good little rabbits do what they're told. They run when they're told to run, right?" He captures your lips in his and his tongue forces it's way into your mouth before you can respond.

It's a rough kiss, teeth clacking together and tongues rubbing against each other. You can't help but find yourself getting wetter and wetter, dick getting harder and harder, pressing right up against the grinding pad.

He pulls away and bites your lip hard enough to make you bleed, before letting out a growl.

"So, keep fuckin' me, now. Do what you're told. Run rabbit, run."

-makes you breakfast in bed and he's so hard because he can't stop thinking Abt what your mouth can do and how those teeth can rip and tear apart flesh

-please blow him after eating ✨.

- trust me it's purely to indulge him, don't be surprised if there's something you're allergic to in anything he makes.

- loves getting you really really high to overstimulate you, oh you're really high? Well hes sucking your t-dick rn and finger fucking your hole so have a fun time trying to concentrate on rolling a joint for him.

-it's so badly rolled you literally have to suffocate him with your thighs so he'll back off and you can redo it. It looks like a fucking hard candy.

- Goes fucking feral over your hair, he's into hairy guys and fuck do you fit the bill.

- you keep it at least slightly maintained more for convenience but you don't shave.

- he loves

MONSTER FUCKING AHEAD

-he goes into heat gets bored and can't control himself and goes either fully monster (basically a demon anthro hare with grey and washed out purple fur, sharp teeth and claws) or partially monster (EARS AND TAIL AND TEETH AND CLAWS AND NOTHING ELSE)

- knotted tentacle dick bc peace and love on planet earth.

- he gets real possessive during this kind of thing, leaving enough marks for Vinny to notice. And they're not human sized either

- large, deep, scabbed over marks on most of your visible skin, most will probably scar.

- and vinny doesn't really care (look you're a consenting adult and you seem to consent enthusiastically if what he's heard through the walls indicate.)

-but he DOES give you this look

- and asks a few slightly personal questions, bc what the fuck how do you fuck THAT hard.

- mainly to embarrass you.

- habit thinks your discomfort is funny so even if you try to get him to stop he won't.

- speaking of discomfort- when he's in heat foreplay is non existent, he'll literally pull your pants and boxers down and fuck you whenever. His dick produces enough lube for it not to hurt too bad. But it's not comfortable.

- he's broken the bed too many times to count, you've tried metal bedframes, you've tried springs, you've tried a water bed (that's not a story you like to talk about), you've done it all, and every time he fucks you hard enough to destroy it beyond repair.

- if you fuck him expect a noise complaint. His vocal chords are different which means he clicks and purrs and shit but also, loud as shit growls that vibrate the house.

- play with his ears and tail and he'll cum immediately (especially with a well angled strap-on.)

- sloppy head just got sloppier with his ultra long tongue and extra drool. Squirt on his face and he'll keep eating you out! (Call now only for the low low price of your soul and all sense of sanity!)

- after care is him licking cum off your chest and then letting Evan take over because fuck that lovey dovey shit. (he'd marry you if he could)

~^°^~^°^~^°^~^°^~•⁠.̫•~^°^~^°^~^°^~

I tried my best but got carried away and it's not proof read. Uuh hope you enjoyed? Don't kill me.

[ashes2sin]

Crash Test Dummy (Intro & Info)

Hello! I am fairly new to the LADS community, although I am not new to fic writing in general. I decided to write a little drabble series (there are two so far) to help practice my ability to write in second person. At the moment? I am absolute shit at it BUT! I am working on it. And I actually enjoy this series. Summary: It starts with a bet. It ends with a crash. Three stories. Three endings. One woman at the center of it all. Each man has his reason. Each lie starts small. Each love? Impossible to deny. This is what happens when she is left standing in the wreckage of it all. OR: This is what happens when a man makes a stupid bet to date the woman people think is un-dateable, and ends up falling in love with her. Because of course he does. Routes: Xavier, Zayne, Caleb General Tags: NON!MC Reader, Angst, hurt/comfort, emotional manipulation, lies/betrayal, friends to lovers to strangers, strangers to lovers, fallout from a dare, implied sexual content, messy humans, second person POV, so far a strong avoidance of the use of y/n, reader uses she/her pronouns, MC(emcee) is usually in a relationship with someone else in all of these for the sake of the plot, reader's looks are described as plus sized and a glasses wearer for the sake of the plot, LIs are a bit OOC for the sake of the plot, Everything is for the sake of the plot, okay? fic series is/will be cross-posted to ao3 because I can style it better over there

Masterlist

This series is for ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY. It is not meant to cause arguments or discomfort in any way.

General Reminder: Please be kind to your local fandom creators! Even if you do not like or agree with something, scrolling away is always a better option than being inhumane to other humans. Thank you so much!

[therhythmafterthesummer]

tw for talking about weight and body image (but is positive)

I just wanted to say although I don’t think I can be considered chubby, I do have more curves and am not a size 0, and seeing chris be so so in love with pretty just as she is in wereroomies made me feel so loved and appreciated as I read it. it made me feel very happy to read smth that could imply a reader insert/mc with more curves 😌 even tho I may not be the exact target audience I just wanted to say it made me feel so warm and I would read every entry and if anything was imply her curves it made me so happy that she was loved just the way she is. the body appreciation (and worship in chris’ case lol) just made me so happy 🥰 and honestly pretty is such a goddess tho like even tho I know it can be an insert I also see her as an oc of yours and ugh I just love her man 😩🫶🏼 anyways that’s all I had to say thank you so much for writing a reader and showing appreciation for those who have more curves and also chubby /pos and plus size readers!!!

this message warms my heart, honestly. i'm glad this is something that can still resonate with you, even when you feel like you aren't the exact target audience.

i suppose Pretty truly is all about self-love, self-acceptance, normalising our bodies, and how you shouldn't lower the bar for anyone regardless of how you look (if a man isn't obsessed with me and kisses the floor i walk on like wr!chris does with his gf, i just DON'T want him!!! lmao)

thank you so much for sending such a lovely ask💜💜💜💜

[me-kume]

idk why it doesnt have more likes or comments but u wrote this diluc slash plus size reader fic and it made me SO happy to read. instantly had to send it to a friend to gush about it bc it’s so so sweet.’u covered those insecurities one (i as a plus size reader in this case) would feel in the mirror and the love that diluc showers the mc with is just so touching and. Validating. i felt like i was being pet on the head throughout the affair (a sensation that brings me comfort), like i could flop over as if i were a dog w/ him. i felt like i could follow him anywhere while reading. seriously the way that his palm is against the mc’s stomach hcjrngjrnhkhk. the finisher was “you’re a girl made for love,” / “for me”. 🥺 that was like a hug icl. also the descriptors you used were fantastic. i love the word “unhurried” too, the implied patience to his gesture… it was all so so fulfilling that i will return here time and again. thank you for sharing this fic 💓

Oh my god! I’m so sorry I didn’t see this message earlier (I rarely check this place and usually only come here to share my writing), but it truly means the world to me to read your comment—even anonymously! I’m genuinely happy that this fanfic resonated with you, because that’s exactly what I was hoping for as the author when I wrote it 😭💕

[aceecee]

Miseria - Caleb

Synopsis: Six different timelines. In each one you find yourself taking over the life of an extra in the game you had been so smitten with. In each life you’re different, whether it’s a different job, or where you live and even your personality. But only one thing remains constant, you’re determined to avoid them. You’re not in the body of the MC so it’s not like they’ll even notice. Right?

You really shouldn’t have underestimated them.

Alternatively: Your ex decides you're getting back together. Your consent is not needed!

MC | Zayne | Sylus | Xavier | Rafayel

TW/Tags: breakups, angst, reader is a widow and single mother (so mentions of pregnancy and some sentences on the effects of it but I’m not going deep into it otherwise we’d be here all day), death, loss of a loved one/minor character, grieving, there is a child in this I’m sorry, stalking, plus size reader, suggestive content (16+), forced second chances, small mention of drink spiking, pseudo-incest? (I hated even typing that out but it’s literally part of MC and Caleb’s dynamic), yandere caleb, possessiveness, obsession, implications of child abuse, small mentions of Caleb and MC’s past, sabotage, forced kissing, threats against a pregnant lady (not you), unrequited love, implied future non-con/babytrapping, forced marriage, dead dove do not eat

WC: 14.3K

Masterlist

Disclaimer: This is a yandere work. The character's personalities have become dramatised as a result. This is not what I think of them at all even as yanderes, it's just for pure indulgence. MC in the boys chapters is not the same one in her's, she's just generic but she will always be a friend (not in this one though). This is not a safe space for MC haters. If you don't like any of this then don't read.

Caleb is very out of character in this. I cannot emphasise this enough.

One moment you’re relaxing on your bed - your own way of celebrating that you had aced your job interview and landed your first big job which made those hell years at uni all worth it - the next you’re standing in someone else’s bathroom.

The sudden change leaves you disoriented but even with the room spinning around you, you still take notice of your appearance in the mirror. The air is humid and the mirror itself is foggy. Someone clearly took a shower. That’s when you feel the water drip down from your head, you reach to touch your hair and look in shock at the liquid on your fingertips. It was you that did. The realisation doesn’t make sense. You had just been on your bed, how did you get here?

You reach for the corners of the sink, an attempt to ground yourself, making sure to take deep breaths. It works, you find yourself calming down. The shakiness in your arms starts to disappear and the thundering of your heart slows down to simple rainfall. 

Lifting your head back up you concentrate on the woman in the mirror. She looks just like you, the same scars and blemishes adorn her, her mouth creases the same way yours does when you smile, she has every single one of your features. So, then why does she feel like an imposter?

Perhaps it’s the differences you’ve started to notice. You’re not sure of her age but she looks more mature than you. It’s in her eyes, very clear that she had experience you had yet to gain. Her body feels weird too, it’s the exact same as yours though, thick thighs, flabby arms and a round stomach. You don’t think you’ve ever felt this sluggish. She’s exhausted. You lift the pyjama shirt to examine deeper. She has stretch marks, around her thighs, leading up to the stomach and even in the corner of her breasts, just like you did. It happens from excess skin but the marks on her stomach are deeper than they had been on yours.. There’s a scar on the lower stomach, a line. It’s faded but still visible, when you reach to touch it - you don’t feel it much.

Oh.

In a panic, you leave the bathroom desperate to run away and find help. But then the pain comes in your head. You find yourself on your knees clutching your head as you groan in anguish.

Flashes of white hit you, whispers and sensations. 

Memories, you realise.

The next time, you wake up on the bedroom floor unsure of how much time has passed.

You’re much calmer this time. You’re not her but you are. She has your name, you’re the same age and have the same birthday but you have lived different lives. You remember every detail of her life even the moment she was born. You remember her happy moments, her sad ones and the ones so painful she bottled them away. You remember that she had fallen in love twice, each one ending in pain. You remember as she discovered her pregnancy and raised a child with the man she continues to love but it’s just her and the child now.

More than that, you’ve realised you’re in a fictional world. One you had grown to love. That had been crafted for the characters you adored in it. 

Your favourite had been the purple-eyed childhood friend but as you recall her memories, you want nothing but to pummel him to the ground. Your heart twists with the ache she has memorised in relation to him.

“I don’t understand why I have to go,” you whine to your best friend, wrapping yourself around her.

She throws you off her shoulder. “Because you’re the president!” she tugs at your cheek. “I can’t believe someone so lazy as you was picked!”

Pen is only joking with you. Your vice president is aware that despite your affinity to laze around, you’re the best for the job. The year before you had been chosen, you had created and implemented a program at Skyhaven University. One simple yet invaluable. The name for it was simple, ‘TELL’. Not an acronym. A website focused on anonymity, where students could go and ask for anything. Whether it was advice, or help with winning over a professor or with assignments. Responses would come from students themselves.

The site was heavily monitored and every resource on it was free. The fees required to keep it running were taken care of by the donation you had received from the competition. The one you had entered before when you were still in high school. You had run a similar website back then but on a much smaller scale, only between your class. You documented everything, the good and the ugly. But no one could deny the benefit it brought, in just a few months differences could be seen. Assignments were done with ease, morale was up and your class? You all became so close that you all still regularly meet up.

No one was shocked when you won the competition and that was when you garnered the attention of several universities but the one in Skyhaven paid the best. You sold the idea to them for an amount that would ensure your grandkid’s grandkids would be taken care of. You got a nice scholarship and instant admission into your desired course with the added bonus of taking care of the site until you graduated.

The program had been running for a few months before you started university, so you had attention on you when you did. Your first year had been amazing but no one told you popularity could be so tiring. Only you were shocked to learn you had been elected the president of the student council for the next year.

You didn’t even know there was one. Wasn’t it only a thing in high school?

You had every intention to decline - it was too much work - but Pen had convinced you otherwise. As your oldest friend, she had flashed those puppy eyes at you knowing it would work. She’s an art student, her sculptures are ethereal. As revenge you recommended her for vice president. It backfired because she actually enjoys her job.

It’s 6AM in the morning. You have two hours to set up for the annual orientation day. It’s a day meant for all those who are new. The one you attended last year was dull. That won’t happen this year.

As tradition, all organisations have a booth but you had personally collaborated with each one to ensure everything would go smoothly, making recommendations to tweak their set up. There was already buzz about the event due to the meticulous posters that you commissioned an actual graphic designer for and not the sweet but very tired/underpaid receptionist who had simply slapped the words ‘Orientation Day’ in a fancy font and called it a day. There will be a variety of food stands, suitable for all diets. There was a stage where clubs were welcome to show off their talents and so much more. The hope was that the event would last the entire day with the goal of collecting donations.

You spend the next two hours simply going around and making sure everything is organised.

When the time on your watch shows 7:58AM, you and Pen wait with bated breath. “It’ll be okay,” she assures you. You nod back.

To your relief students flood the area right on time. “There’s so many of them,” Pen whispers to you in awe. The two of you grin at each other. It would be nice to set a precedent. 

It was the longest he had been away from her. The two of them had a tearful goodbye before he boarded the train to Skyhaven. Even with his friends chatting his ear off as they make their way through the crowd to the stage, all he can think about is her.

Is she eating okay? Does she miss him as much as he misses her? 

He hopes the answer is yes.

His thinking is cut off by the sudden lights on the stage. A figure steps on the stage.

“Welcome to Orientation Day, everyone!” the girl speaks normally into the mic with a bright grin on her face. 

Cheers erupt all around him but all he can focus on is the girl.

You’re wearing a simple white shirt with the logo of the university and blue jeans. The only accessory is the watch on your wrist. Such simple clothing yet you make it look priceless. You introduce yourself. He watches as you explain the event and as you lay out all activities available. He drinks in your laugh, your smile and any mannerisms. 

After telling everyone to relax and have fun, you walk off the stage. He keeps his gaze on your figure until you disappear into the crowd. A nudge to his side demands his attention.

“Pretty, isn’t she?” Gideon asks him.

“Huh…?” he clears his throat. “...I guess.” 

It just might be the biggest lie he’s told. You’re unlike anything he’s ever seen but shame eats him up inside at the thoughts. How could he easily forget her, even if just for a moment?

Gideon rolls his eyes. “Whatever, man. You never find anyone attractive.”

It’s true. All his life his attention has only been on one woman. He’s never even glanced at another simply walking by, never cared for any of the celebrities his friends go crazy over so what changed now? 

He brushes it off. It’s just a one time thing, he soothes himself. You’ll never see her again.

Not even ten minutes later he’s face to face with you.

“What did you want to sign up for?” you ask him with a smile. The words and gesture don’t mean anything to you, you’ve been repeating it to those looking to sign up for the activities available but the simple act might just be his ruin. 

You can’t help the amusement shining in your eyes as the boy in front of you struggles to speak. His ears are tinted pink as he realises it too. You give him a patient smile and look him over. You’re not one to care much for romance despite the line of suitors you’ve acquired (yeah, you’re not humble about it either) but the boy is cute. The bright rays of the sun bring attention to all the freckles on his face. It takes everything to not lose yourself in his eyes, the purple a shade that reminds you of the same galaxies you had ‘oohed’ and ‘ahhed’ over as a child. You’re sure if you search deep in them, you’ll find speckles of gold resembling the stars. 

Over the years, you’ve found that you don’t really have a type. On the rare occasions you happen to develop a crush - which never seem to last more than a week - each person had been different. You’ve met a variety of people over the course of your life but none have captured your interest this quick. Or even managed to make your heart beat fast like he was.

His friend throws an arm around his shoulder. “We’d like to join the basketball game happening,” the friend grins at you while the other boy looks away. 

You pick up the tablet and bring up the list. “Sure, I’ll need your names.”

“I’m Gideon and this is Caleb. You’ll have to excuse my friend here, he’s shy,” Gideon reaches up to ruffle Caleb’s hair. Said man groans and swats his hand away.

“All done! I hope you enjoy yourselves today,” it shouldn’t please you so much as both of them fluster at the smile you send them. “My contact details are on TELL if you ever need help with anything.” You have to say this to all new students as the president but this is the only occasion where you hope it happens.

Becoming all too aware of the long line behind them, the two boys walk away but not before Caleb takes one last glance at you, one that you don’t see. Which might be a good thing since you don’t see the dark expression he wears as you converse with another man with the same smile you had given him.

A few months go by after that. Orientation day had been successful. Even though they had been optional, the donations received should fund the TELL website for an extra year and should still have some leftover. 

The boy with the name Caleb takes refuge in the back of your mind and refuses to leave. It’s frustrating pining over a man you met once and it’s so unlike you. There’s nothing you can do about the need to see him again as the second year of your course only gets more complicated and your other responsibilities only add to the stress you’re slowly accumulating. Any free time is gone and your precious sleep was the first to be compromised, something that leaves you different. Gone is the laid back girl you used to be, you’ve been replaced with someone who snaps at the smallest thing. Your relaxed smile has been switched with a frown. You’ve become your worst enemy.

A grump.

The changes in you have started to affect those around you as well. You still feel guilty that you had shouted at Pen over a small mistake, you had apologised like crazy straight after but Pen hadn’t even been mad. Instead she fretted over you, asking if everything was alright. You don’t deserve her but her concern was valid. 

You detest shouting. In the decade you’ve been friends, Pen has never seen you raise your voice, not even once. 

“[Name], they’re expecting too much from you,” she had held you in her arms as you cried. “How the fuck do they expect one person to do all this?” That was when she had gotten angry, when she looked over your bullet points of everything you had to get done before the month was over. Again, you don’t deserve her.

After confiding in her a little more and with lots of reassurances from her that you weren’t weak for “giving up”, you held a meeting with the rest of the student body. They agreed to shoulder some of the responsibility for you and for the first time in months, you slept through the whole night. Have you mentioned you don’t deserve Pen?

It took a while for you to go back to your original self but no one could deny the ease that rolls off you now. The magnetic pull in you that draws in anyone within radius. 

As president, another thing you had to do was keep up appearances. If students and staff don’t actively see for themselves you running around, then it doesn’t matter how much you accomplish, they’ll label you as lazy. So, the fact that you’ve been cooped up inside for the last few months wasn’t ideal.

Luckily an easy fix is something that happens every night without fail. Parties. The campus guidelines state that no parties can be held on the grounds without a member of the student council present.

You volunteered for the one tonight and Pen offered to join as well. Since you’re on supervising duty, you can’t drink anything. Which is probably for the best, the president before you ended up getting spiked and shoved into a closet so the rest of the party could let loose. Such extensive measures weren’t needed, you were all meant to be there so the university could look good, not actually intervene.

Your eardrums might just rupture from the loud bass music playing as you and Pen approach the building. There are people lingering outside on the lawn, groups talking to each other and some failing to walk straight. They all greet you as you pass by and you respond to each. 

A drink is shoved in your hands as soon as you enter. “Drink with us Prez!” a drunk boy yells at you. You raise the plastic cup to your lips and pretend to take a sip, the boy cheers completely unaware of your trickery. As a formality you remind him to be careful and walk away, dumping the cup on a random table. 

Pen gives you a subtle nudge. “That guy’s been staring at you since you entered,” she gives a quick nod in a direction. Your gaze moves to the area and you halt as your eyes meet violet ones. The block you had put up in an attempt to ignore how those eyes made you feel collapses in on itself. Heat creeps down your body and settles down between your thighs at the intensity of his gaze. 

Caleb did not want to go to the party. His resolve didn’t weaken no matter how much Gideon begged him. Normally he would be down but he had an early class and the material was important. All Gideon had to say was that you would be there for Caleb to change his mind. To his frustration, Gideon had caught onto Caleb’s…whatever it was he had with you and he never failed to remind him of it. 

Caleb had only seen you once after your first meeting. You didn’t notice him, too busy trying to get to your destination but he took notice of you. Of your exhausted state. He felt the need to stop you and demand why you looked so fatigued. He wanted nothing more than to usher you back to bed with force if needed but instead he willed himself to walk away.

Over the last few months he had a mental list forming in his head with every single detail he learnt about you. Any information learnt came from the mouth of others. You are spectacular, shining so brightly amongst them all. He should stay away, he knows that, but he can’t. He’ll apologise for it later.

Because he knows it won’t last.

It feels like eternity waiting for you to arrive. He watches the clock and counts every second. Numerous people come up to him but he pays attention to none. They all wonder why his gaze keeps drifting to the entrance. When you enter, his eyes are on you. He downs the beer in his hand and crushes the cup in his hand at the way you look. You don’t notice the desire in the eyes of all those who greet you, their every action tainted with corruption.

You’re wearing a simple black dress that ends at your thighs. Nothing extravagant or noteworthy. Except for the fact that it’s you wearing it. The dress moves up slightly with every step you take and he can see the safety shorts underneath. He doesn’t know you wore them to prevent any chafing or that you rubbed baby powder in your inner thighs just in case. You’re wearing shoes with a short heel, for practicality reasons he’s sure but he can’t help appreciate how well they compliment your legs. 

You look much better than you did the last time. Well rested and more put together. Part of him is glad for it and the other disappointed that it had not been him who helped you.

The redhead that has been by your side tries to subtly tell you about him but he notices. He has plenty of time to look away and pretend otherwise but instead he keeps his gaze with you. Caleb delights in the way your eyes widen, just a little. You turn to whisper something in your friend’s ear, she nods at you and walks away and in turn you approach him.

“Caleb, right?” you ask him. He doesn’t know that you don’t need an answer and you don’t know that you’ve ignited something in him simply by saying his name. Your lips covered in a shiny gloss look so pretty when they say his name. 

“Yeah.”

You join him and lean against the wall. You don’t look at him, instead looking around the room and surveying all the people. “How have you been so far?” It’s a question you have to ask everyone, he’s aware of it but he’ll take whatever you can give. He sighs, leaning his head back up against the wall, gaze on the ceiling. “It’s been stressful,” he drops his head back down and looks at you. “-but nothing I can’t handle.” 

You smile at him in response. 

“What course are you doing, Prez?” he asks you.

“Computer Science.”

When you don’t receive a reply, you look at the tall man beside you only to find him staring at you in slight shock.

“Pfft,” you can’t help but laugh at his expression. “I’m guessing you too, huh?”

He nods, his voice far too weak from your laugh to function. Pride settles in him, he made you laugh. 

“Do you have Mr Wrestly as well?”

At the name he can’t help but let out an involuntary groan which only makes you laugh harder. “He picks on me all the time. I don’t think he likes me very much,” seeing him pout only makes him more endearing to you.

“Yeah, he did it to me too. I felt so stupid every single time until I learnt that he only does it to those who show potential,” you reassure him. His eyes light up at your words. “Really?” He reminds you of a puppy right then and there, one who you’ve just given a bone. “Really,” you confirm.

You understand his reaction, getting a hit after another to your intelligence was not a fun experience. “But still, I’m glad I don’t have him this year.” 

It’s silent for a while.

“So…,” he starts and trails off. “-that means you’re graduating this year, right?”

“Yup.”

Truth be told you’ve been trying not to think about it. The future seems so scary, especially since you have no plans in motion. Right now all you have is to apply to some internships and go from there. 

“I don’t really see you as a CompSci major,” you admit to him.

“It gives you extra credits for the Aerospace Academy,” he informs.

“Ah. I can definitely see you as a pilot.”

There’s a childlike wonder in his eyes. “Yeah, I’ve wanted to be one since I was a kid.”

Your finger reaches up and traces the outline of his collarbone through his shirt, his breath catches in his throat. You make a point to not return his gaze, only doing so when you utter your next words. “It’s a good thing you’ve got someone who can share all her notes,” you pause. “As long as you’re good.”

His hand moves fast to capture your finger, you give a soft tug giving up when his hold tightens in response. His head moves closer to yours, until you can feel his breath mingling with yours. 

“Oh, really?” it comes out as a whisper but his voice has deepened. There’s a slight smirk painted on his lips and his eyes are dark and hooded as they rest on you.

“Really.”

He tugs you into some empty room, shutting the door behind him. His lips are on you before you can say a word. The two of you lose yourself in the other. You have more experience so you lead but he’s a fast learner. In a sudden move you pull away from him, making sure to keep a distance. He looks a little dumbfounded at your change in attitude.

“I can taste the alcohol in your mouth, Caleb. How much have you had to drink?” you ask him gently. He chuckles - despite the relief that it wasn’t because you regret it - and his arms wrap around you before he pulls you to him. “Not even enough to feel buzzed,” he nuzzles his head into your shoulder. 

“Hmm,” you contemplate. “I’m still not taking any chances.” You want to concede when the man lifts his head up and pouts. “If you’re serious then kiss me again when you don’t have anything in your system.”

“Yes ma’am.” 

Caleb finds you again on day two after the party. It would’ve been one but he didn’t want to seem desperate. He waits for you outside the building of your class, not saying a single word as he approaches. All he does is kiss you.

Neither of you have any experience with relationships. You think you might have been moving too fast but it should be okay, right? You two feel so strongly about the other and that isn’t for no reason. Any doubts are shoved away.

A month goes by and life is nice. 

You’ve hosted more events for the university and each of them have done well. Some could’ve been better however you’re determined to not let it ruin your mood instead using them as a learning experience. 

Caleb and you are still navigating your relationship.

You live in a one bedroom apartment off campus. Any free time he has, Caleb spends it there. He never spends the night. He’s determined to change that.

You have a research paper due in a week. Normally you would do it the day before while panicking as if you didn’t put yourself in that situation. You can’t do that this time, you’ll be busy then. Caleb lounges on your bed as you sit by your desk.

It’s silent. The only sounds are from your keyboard or the odd rustling of pages moving. You don’t notice the silent plotting brewing in the man’s head.

“It’s nearly 8pm,” he tells you. “I should head back.”

You give a hum in response, flicking your hand up to say goodbye.

Caleb knows how you can get when you’re focused so he doesn’t take it to heart. Your ears pick up the sound of him getting up from the bed. He lets out a small sigh. You don’t say anything. He finds his socks on the floor and puts one on with another sigh. You don’t say anything. He puts the other on and sighs again, this time a little louder. You don’t say anything. His eye twitches, he grabs his shoes and puts them on with a big sigh. You don’t even move.

“Yup. I’m going back to the dorms because my girlfriend hates me.”

You swivel around in your chair and stare at him with a deadpan expression. He bats his eyelashes at you.

Your lips quirk in amusement. “Why don’t you just stay the night, Caleb? You’ll be back here in the morning anyway,” you play along, giving in to him. But your heart is light as his expression changes. He kicks off his shoes and plops back down on the bed. 

Thinking everything is dealt with, you turn back around only for a hand to clench around your chair and pull it towards the bed. “Wha-” you jump in surprise. An arm pulls you and you land on your back on the bed. The perpetrator hovers above you with a satisfied smirk. The second your lips begin to move, kisses are being peppered onto your face, an effective way to shut you up. 

His lips are on yours. The kiss is different from the others you’ve shared. This one is slow as he takes his time, savouring every moment. His hands reach to tug your hoodie and he pulls his mouth away. You’re both breathing hard. His hand digs into your bed sheets as he tries to restrain himself. The air around you has changed, growing thick from the tension. He doesn’t say anything but you hear the question. You nod. Any control he has is gone as he recaptures your lips in a frenzy.

The next day you wake up from light traces all over your body. Your joints ache and your shoulder and neck throb from the markings. You’re bundled up in his arms. Caleb smiles at you when he sees you’re awake, leaning in close to plant a kiss on your forehead. You can’t say a word back. Not when he looks at you like that.

Like you’re everything he’s ever needed.

You and Pen are closer than ever. She’s one of the most important people in your life so you introduce Caleb to her. The dinner seemed to have gone well. You brushed off any awkwardness, deeming it an occurrence of a first meeting.

Except before she had left, Pen had pulled you away to speak privately.

“Just be careful with that guy,” she warns you. “I know I shouldn’t judge without reason but something about him seems…off.”

“You know me, Pen. First sign of trouble and I run,” you smile in an attempt to comfort her. She gives you a weak one back. “I know you can take care of yourself but you’re different with him.” You look at her in confusion. She takes a deep breath, unsure if she should continue but for your sake she does. “You like him [Name], a lot. No…I think you love him. I-I just don’t see this ending well and I don’t want you getting hurt.” 

While you’re too busy spiralling over her words, especially as they ring true, she watches you. What she doesn’t say is that your biggest weakness will always be the way you love. Platonic or not. It’s rare for you to get attached to a person but when you do, it’s intense. Not in an overbearing way but because you kept your heart in a cage and you’d only let in those who you deemed worthy. After that you would love freely, thinking everything would be okay, not realising that people can change or that they might’ve been lying to you from the start. 

She’d been by your side (and you her’s) through all your friendship breakups, she saw the way you grieved the loss. The sheer anguish you felt would leave her paralysed. But you had never fallen in love romantically before. Pen doesn’t think she could handle how it would affect you. It just might kill her. 

She doesn’t know if shining a light on your feelings had the effect she wanted.

And it doesn’t.

You ignore her warning, Caleb hasn’t given you a reason to doubt him. All the conversation did was make you realise how deep your feelings ran. You itch to say it to him but at the same time something holds you back.

The topic of family comes up one night. You don’t go into much detail about yours, alluding to the fact that your home life wasn’t the best. Thankfully he doesn’t push for more. He tells you about his adoptive sister, how they grew up together and that he cares for her a lot. 

What you don’t know about is the turmoil inside Caleb’s head. When he’s with you, he forgets all about her. He doesn’t think about what she’s doing and if everything is alright. He doesn’t forget you when he’s with her. You’re always there in his heart, mind and soul. But then his phone will ping with a message from her while he’s watching a movie with you, asking why he hasn’t been responding. In those moments, he thinks he’ll drown in the shame and guilt and then you look his way and give that angelic smile he adores. He wonders how long he can do this for.

It’s now nearly the end of the year. He’s gone back home while you remain in Skyhaven during your last break in the school year. His family doesn’t know he’s dating you, Caleb sneaks away when you call. It all comes to an end when she pulls him away with a confession.

“I feel like you’ve been distant, Caleb,” her eyes shine with unshed tears. His body moves on its own to cup her face. “What do you mean, Pipsqueak?” 

“Do you have a girlfriend?” she struggles to even ask the question. All he can do is wrap his arms around her and say no.

His resolve to end things washes away when you’re waiting for him at the train station. You smile and hug him. She’s forgotten again. It’s an endless cycle. 

One that you end up breaking.

He’s standing before a bright green tree, waiting for you. Your tree. The one you went to for peace. The one you had shared with him.

“Surprise!” a figure jumps on him. He recognises the voice. He’s too caught up in the joy to feel dread.

You see the distant figure of your boyfriend. A smile breaks onto your face as you walk faster but you halt when another figure runs towards him. She jumps at him and he catches her with ease. You see it all.

The way he looks at her. How easily she jumps into his arms and he returns it with a serene smile. The emotions and love you thought had been reserved for you are being displayed. In that moment you remember Pen’s warning. Your heart twists as you realise she had been right. How did she see it before you?

You feel so humiliated. It had been right in front of you. How he would always excuse himself to answer her call, no matter the situation. How soft he was when he’d talk about their childhood together. That ugly necklace that was constantly around his neck.

Your steps are slow as you walk up to them. They turn to look at you and Caleb jolts. “[Name]!” He knows it’s over when he sees the look in your eyes. His heart is beating so fast he can hear it drumming in his ears. 

Thinking you’re a simple friend, she reaches her hand out and introduces herself. For a split second you want to hate her. But it’s not her fault. You return the handshake and introduce yourself. 

“Hey, pips? Why don’t you wait for me in the cafeteria? I need to talk to [Name].”

Unaware of the tension in the air, she agrees and leaves but not before letting you know it was nice to meet you. 

You don’t say a word, waiting for an explanation.

“I’m sorry.” 

The guilt on his face means nothing to you, not anymore. Caleb’s hands twitch, he wants nothing but to beg for forgiveness. To get on his knees and promise his devotion. But the blank look on your face has him frozen.

“Why?”

“What?”

“Why did you even date me?” you speak the words with a venom he’s never heard before. “Was I just a distraction?” you continue.

“Wha-No! You were never a-”

“Or was I meant to stop others from realising you have feelings for your own fucking sister?” 

“I didn’t tell anyone we’re dating.”

“Oh! Even better. But you can’t even deny your feelings for her are true.”

“I’m sorry.”

You let out a cold laugh. “You already said that. I want an explanation.” 

But he can’t give it to you. He doesn’t have the answer himself. So, you’ll force them out.

“Choose.”

He looks at you in alarm.

“Me or her? Pick one.”

You already know the answer but you need to hear it. Even if by some miracle he chooses you, you’ll never pick him. Never again.

Flashes of images go through his head. Of her laying on the cold floor with no heartbeat. The fear in her eyes. The anger coursing through him. Their shared cries and pain.

“It’ll always be her.”

His face stings from the force of your slap. He welcomes the pain, it’s what he deserves.

“You’re a coward, Caleb.” You take a step closer. “A weak, pathetic, coward.” 

It’s you who physically walks away. You’re numb as you do. All you can focus on is that…

He ruined your tree. Ruined your peace.

Caleb returns to her with a fake grin plastered on his face. No one notices the trembling in his hands or the slight shakiness in his voice.

You don’t see each other for the rest of the school year. In public you’re the same as always but in private you break down. You have no words to describe how you feel. One day you had been so mad that you ripped all the photos you had taken with him. The next you cried over the discarded paper. 

Pen is the only one who knows you’re a mess. She tries her best to comfort you. 

“[Name] our final exams are next week,” she cradles your head in her hands. “You can’t let him dull your shine. Not now.”

They’re not the words you want to hear but the ones you need. 

You bottle up your emotions after that. Keeping the lid shut tight. 

You ace your exams and graduate. Happy to never see this place again. Once it had been home to you but now everything about it was tinted with him.

You’re completely unaware as purple eyes watch you in the crowd as you accept your degree and give a speech. How they drink in your smile, laugh and mannerisms. How they are laced with regret.

Even if you did, you wouldn’t care. Not anymore.

Back in the present, you’ve lifted yourself off the floor and have sat down on the bed as you process your(?) memories. The clock on the nightstand reads 3:00AM.

The emotions your other self had years to process are now raw within you. You’re not sure if the shakiness of your body is from the rage simmering inside or the tears making their way down your face.

It’s hard to come to terms with the fact that your comfort character had done all this. Bile rises in your throat, suddenly you feel so disgusted in yourself. You feel used.

The toilet flushes and you turn on the fans in the bathroom to get rid of the smell of vomit. With slow steps you make your way to the bedroom. You look over the decorations and the size of it. At least in this life you’re rich. 

You don’t know what to make of this situation. You can no longer delude yourself that it is all a dream. It’s your new reality. You want to go back home. Back to your old life. It wasn’t the best but it also wasn’t this shitshow.

For fucks sake, you have a kid! 

You don’t know the first thing about raising a child! All you have are your memories, you’re overtaken by panic.

You leave the bedroom. The hallways are dark but you don’t bother turning the lights back on. You have the floorplan mapped in your head. You take a couple steps right to avoid a table and find yourself standing before a room. Stickers decorate the door. Sparkles and glitters. There’s a big sign on the door. ‘EVE’ is all it says. She had decorated it herself as best as a two-year old could.

You slowly turn the door handle and peek inside. There’s a small frame bundled on the bed. You can see the rise and fall of her chest even under her blanket. The sight of her fills you with peace. All panic is forgotten. 

You know exactly where to step so the floorboard doesn't creak. You settle down onto the bed with her, pulling her to your chest. She doesn’t awaken but instead rests deeper into your chest. You caress her head. Maybe this life isn’t so bad after all.

At age twenty you had graduated and found yourself stuck. You had done a bunch of internships after but none stuck with you. One day you had been on the bus, dozing off when you overheard a conversation between two school girls. One of them made an off hand comment about how annoying it was to have so many apps for different things. It didn’t come to you straight away but the girl’s comment stayed with you for a while.

It should’ve been hard to get investors but the reputation you had gained from TELL had been your saviour. Plenty of interest was shown. The first person you brought on was Pen. A way to pay back the friendship and support she had always shown you. She became the lead designer for the app interface.

It’s how Moment’s was born. It’s weird that you designed the very app used to communicate with the love interests themselves. 

It’s also how you met him.

Elijah Kennedy.

One of your investors.

You didn’t care for him much at first.

He was attractive, tall with blonde hair and the most majestic brown eyes you’d ever seen, especially under the sunlight. You never really paid much attention to him, all he was is a means to an end. Elijah wasn’t your type, too stoic for your taste. But then, during a meeting he accidentally let slip that he found you pretty and his face got so red. He spluttered on his drink and tried but failed to rectify the situation.

Unlike Caleb who had made your heart beat fast, Elijah made it stutter. 

Something changed between you two after that. It was quiet and subtle. Suddenly he was asking you more personal questions and you found yourself answering them. Your meetings started taking place over dinner. Light touches that lingered. 

Until one day he tried to ask you on a date but stuttered so much he couldn’t even get the words out. With a teasing smile, you had asked the question for him. 

You told him the truth then. That you had been hurt so bad you don’t think you could take a chance again. Elijah confided in you about his ex-girlfriend, who had cheated, in return. Maybe it's because you saw kinship in the other but the rest of the night was spent laying bare all your hurt. It had been therapeutic for Elijah, who felt he would be looked down upon for being so upset, and you, who had to bottle everything up just so you could function.

You didn’t date right away. A friendship started first. Your relationship built slowly. When you two first shared a kiss, it felt so right. Then you went on a date and started dating. After a year, you got married. Pen ended up being your maid of honour. She gave you her approval for Elijah a month into dating and you’ve learnt to listen to her. 

Shortly after the honeymoon, you found yourself in the bathroom with a positive pregnancy test. Your hands shook as you stared down at the stick, anxiety pooling in your gut. It was too fast. It was all happening too fast. 

You’d learnt nothing from the last time and here you are repeating the same mistakes.

When Elijah finds you on the bathroom floor and tries his best to reassure that everything will be okay, that he’s not going anywhere, the feeling never goes away.

Not even during the pregnancy, or after you gave birth and even when you celebrated Eve’s first birthday. It disappeared when you got the news that your Elijah had been in a car accident. Dead on arrival. 

You had been right.

Why did you have to be right?

Eve’s two now, it’s been a year since his passing. It’s a weird sensation to grieve someone so hard yet still feel like they’re a stranger. You sniffle into your daughter’s blonde hair, a few tears escape. 

Around the time you had been grieving your husband, you received an email. It had been from her. An invitation to a funeral. There was a line of text at the bottom, ‘He would want you there.’

You didn’t go.

The sound of the doorbell drums through the house.

You don’t get up.

It rings again.

And again.

Until you finally move out of frustration.

She looks concerned at your state. She’s wearing simple clothing, not a hair out of place. While your eyes are bloodshot from all the crying, your skin dry from the salty tears. Everything about your appearance is a mess. Not that you even care.

But you recognise the look in her eyes. She’s a mess just like you, only on the inside.

Neither of you say a word. With a roll of your eyes, you open the door for her and walk inside. The house too, is a mess. Eve’s toys are littered all over the floor of the living room, you grab a basket and start dumping them back in there.

She lingers at the large family photo. “I-I knew you were doing very well for yourself. There was no mention of you getting married or…that you have a child.”

“Yeah? Well, he died too. That’s two for two now. I just might be cursed,” you chuckle darkly as you throw Poppy the Unicorn a little too harshly into the basket. You’ll need to apologise later or Eve won’t be happy.

You feel her gaze on you as you move around the room, trying to clean whatever you could. 

“I’m sorry. I had no idea. I think I should just go,” she turns to leave.

“Wait,” at your command she looks back. “Just say what it is you want to and then go,” you gesture at the couch. “Besides it’s not like my day can get any worse,” you mutter softly but she still hears every word.

You sit before her, arms crossed and wait for her to speak.

“I came to apologise.”

Her words shock you.

“Really? I thought you came to yell at me for missing the funeral.”

“No!” her eyes widened in alarm. It’s a comical sight, one that might have made you laugh once. “It’s my fault. I’m the reason it all happened. Back then, I felt him pull away so I asked if he had a girlfriend. I didn’t know he actually did. It never occurred to me that he would ever get one.”

“It’s not your fault nor did I ever blame you for anything,” you wave her off. You can tell from her expression that the answer isn’t enough. “You were a child who didn’t know any better. He went from being around every day to being gone for months. It would’ve been hard to adjust for anyone. Any blame is on him. He should have never gotten in a relationship with me when he loved you.”

The last sentence doesn’t shock her.

“Huh. When did you realise?”

“I think I always knew,” she looks down at her hands, twiddling her fingers. “I just…forced myself to ignore it. I’ve never seen him in that way and I don’t really think he did either.” Her head is back up at you but there’s a fire in her eyes now. “I didn’t just come here to apologise. I need to tell you something.”

That gets your attention. You motion for her to continue.

“His feelings for you were real. After you graduated, something in him changed. He still took care of me the same but the intent was gone. Like it was an obligation. I think he realised it was meant to be for you but by then it was too late. He started seeing me as a sister only. He wasn’t even phased when I got my first boyfriend.”

“That doesn’t change anything.”

“I know,” she smiles weakly. “It’s selfish of me to unload this on you, especially with what you’re going through currently but I had to. For him.”

There’s some more silence.

“What’s your daughter’s name?”

“We named her Eve.”

She raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything.

“What?”

“It just doesn’t sound like a name you would pick.”

“It was Elijah’s grandmother’s name. She raised the man I came to love. It was the least I could do.”

The two of you make small talk for a while before a ping on her phone reminds her of her other plans. She bids you goodbye.

You stay on the couch, staring blankly at the wall.

Then the tears fall and you wail.

Your other self was too nice. Caleb didn’t deserve her grief especially since you know he’s still alive. 

You have no idea when you drifted off but the feeling of small hands on your face is what wakes you up. Sunlight trickles through the curtains. Brown eyes stare back at you. Eve blinks before breaking out into a huge grin now that you’re up. “Awake?’ she asks. 

You kiss her on the forehead. “Awake,” you confirm. “Hungry?” you ask back. It was a daily ritual. She nods. You lift her off the bed and enter the bathroom. She has school today. It’s easy to fall back into your other self’s routine. Every action you take is so natural that it keeps messing with your head. With no issue you enjoy your breakfast with your daughter and drive her to school. She gives you a hug goodbye and you’re left alone again. You don’t have work and you’re in the mood to be outside so the only plans you have is to sleep.

There’s a white box with a ribbon waiting on your doorstep when you arrive. A card is tucked into the ribbon. You bring the box inside.

You’ll need this

Those are the only words written on the card. You flip it over and read the words over and over again but nothing changes. They seem so certain but you’re more shocked at how calm you are. 

Inside the box is a silk dress, a shade of emerald green. You run your fingers over the material, it’s beautiful yet simple. Just the way you like it. 

The normal thing would be to experience panic in this situation but it never comes. It doesn’t make any sense. You should feel something yet you don’t. 

A melody rings through the silence. Something in your pocket vibrates. It’s your phone. You recognise the caller ID, it’s Pen. 

You pick up the call, neither of you bothers with trivial greetings. 

“We’ve been invited to an event,” her tone is off.

“I’m not going. They’re all the same.”

“Normally I wouldn’t argue but you can’t decline this one [Name].”

“Why?”

“It’s the annual Skyhaven gala. The one where all the important figures attend. People from the Farspace Fleet, military leaders and any important political figure. It’d be social suicide not to go.”

Your gaze settles on the box. “Pen, was it you who sent the dress?” it’s a shot in the dark but it just might land.

“What dress?”

You sigh. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy.

“Nothing. I just forgot I ordered one,” you divert. Pen already dealt with so much of your shit, she’s married now too and four months pregnant. She doesn’t need the extra stress. 

“Oh, okay. Come visit me later and bring my niece!”

As Pen’s voice drones off on the phone, your eyes remain on the box. You still feel nothing about the situation.

Maybe because you recognise the handwriting.

It feels like deja vu once again as his eyes continue to glance at the entrance.

He has to be careful not to give it away but he can’t deny how nervous he feels at the chance that he’ll see you again.

It took him far too long to realise how deep he had fallen for you. His entire life has revolved around her, just the way he foolishly thought he wanted. It wasn’t until you entered his life that he saw a different path. But he had been too blinded by the role he forced upon himself to notice. After all she had been through, the least he could do was ensure a good life for her. Everything was her, her, her…

But as she grew up, she needed him less and less. He tried so hard to hold on unaware that he was suffocating them both in the process. Then, you came in and slowly his grip loosened. It was entirely his fault that he had been too much of a coward to let go. You had been right to call him one.

Caleb can’t begin to imagine the pain and suffering his actions caused you. All of it made worse by the fact that he knew it would end that way, yet he let it happen. 

He’s missed you so much these last few years. You were in everything. The warm rays of the sun reminded him of the way you would glow under the sun’s embrace. The moon made him reminisce of all the times you would take him stargazing. He saw parts of you in everyone. Your smile. Frown. Laugh. 

It was the betrayal on your face he saw before the explosion. Memories of kissing you were what he held onto as he healed. The sensation of your hand clasped in his would make him cry at the arm he lost. Even now, as the chip whirs in his head, you’re the reason he hasn’t lost himself. You’re why he’s still holding on. He needs you, you’ve become his salvation.

Caleb can no longer give you a choice in the matter. 

Not when you had moved on. You kept your personal life private but as the Colonel it was easy for him to access any information on you. He’s glad your…husband (he struggles to even think the word) died, one less thing for Caleb to take care of. 

Then you walk in.

You’re a little taller now. Even when you’re all dressed up, he can see the exhaustion in your eyes. Taking care of a baby all by yourself can’t be easy. His eyes flicker down to your body, you’re not wearing the dress. He expected it but his gloved hand still clenches by his side.

You don’t notice him. But others notice you. They swarm around you like parasites and he can see it’s all making you overwhelmed. Your eyes dart around, trying to find someone you knew and that's when they meet his. 

He had expected you to be surprised to see him but you remain unphased. Not a single hint as to what you’re thinking is shown. It’s frustrating. This wasn’t how he wanted the evening to go.

You don’t make a move, not a single step either towards or away from him. Your gaze slips away from him as you bury yourself in another meaningless conversation.

It feels like hours have passed before you can catch a breath. You leave the floor quickly before anyone else can interrupt, heading for the upstairs floor. To your luck it’s empty. You take refuge in one of the terraces, counting the minutes until you could go home. You miss Eve. She’d been left with a babysitter, who texted you hourly updates.

The setting of the sun distracts you from your thoughts. The sky a blend of orange, purple and pink. Beautiful. 

“Did you not like the dress?”

You hadn’t heard him at all. You don’t turn around to see his face.

“It was hideous.”

His steps indicate that he’s right next to you. You hear his clothes rustle as he rests his hand on the railings, just like you are. To think that the sight of him in the uniform used to be so enticing and now he’s standing before you. He’s real. You can feel the warmth radiating off his body. Yet all you feel is fear. 

“I’ll do better next time,” his gaze digs. It’s like a flashlight shining on your face, when all you can do is look away to avoid going blind.

“There better not be a next time.” Your body moves on its own. Your hand grasps hard on his upper arm. His breath hitches when he feels your touch. It’s been so long. It’s not enough. 

You dig your nails further into the material, not caring that it does nothing. “Leave me the fuck alone.”

You don’t see the way his eyes harden at the gold ring around your finger.

You release his arm and storm off.

Shivers run through you as you feel him watch you leave.

You know this isn’t the last time. 

A week goes by.

And you spend it on edge every single day. Your paranoia gets the better of you. You call and let Eve’s school know you’re going on a trip so she won’t be in. You do the same for work. The two of you spend it at home. 

You can’t keep this up for long. Soon, questions will start being asked. Yet the fear of running into Caleb again leaves you paralysed. 

A phone call from your assistant comes as soon as the weekend is over. Her voice is laced with panic as she begs you to come in. There’s a huge issue with the app.

You have no choice but to call the babysitter on short notice, promising to pay extra for the emergency. 

Pen is waiting for you when you enter. She gives you a guilty smile. “If it wasn’t urgent we wouldn’t have cut your vacation short,” she says as you walk to your office.

“It’s fine.” It’s not. “What happened that’s so bad you had to call me?”

You gesture for her to sit on your chair. It’s far more comfortable for a pregnant woman. You sit on one of the armchairs opposite. Not as nice but the exhale Pen gives out of relief is worth it. You make a mental note to order a chair just like it for her office. And to get better armchairs. 

She plops a file on the desk. “What isn’t happening? Something is wrong with the servers but we’re slowly managing it. I have to go pee every second, I don’t know how you did this. But the real issue is that the app keeps crashing. Something’s wrong with the code but no matter how much we dig, we can’t find it.”

You sigh and lean back into the chair. Your hand comes up to drag down your face. “How much have we lost?”

She doesn’t answer.

“That bad?”

She pauses and mouths ‘worse’ at you. 

Great. 

“Your phone’s been ringing all morning too. I’m sure it’s the board members,” she slowly gets up and makes her way out the door but not before patting you on the shoulder. 

You spend the next hour on the phone, apologizing and promising to fix the issue to each individual member. You’re left holding your head as you try to massage the headache. This used to be fun, back when the app was just an idea. Somewhere along the way you started dreading coming into work. You’re not made to be like this. You’re meant to create.

What was it they used to say?

Never turn your hobby into real work. 

Wow, you really have a habit of not listening to advice. 

You order your assistant to buy everyone whatever they desire for lunch and dinner before heading down to the programming teams. They’re not enthusiastic about the situation but who can deny overtime. 

Morale seems higher when they learn that you’ll be staying back with them. It was your baby at risk after all.

Your eyes are about to pop from the strain, you’ve been staring at a screen for hours. And then you come across it. One single line. Nudged into the code. That nearly destroyed years of hard work.

12 5 20 19 20 1 12 11 

The numbers stare back at you. They confuse you. It makes no sense for them to be there. It’s not actual programming. Unless they were deliberately written in…

Your mind runs through all possibilities of what the numbers mean, each one more complicated than the last. But, what if it’s not difficult? You blankly gaze at the numbers.

No way. It can’t be that simple. 

Your hand reaches for a pen and you scribble down onto a notepad. 

12=L, 5=E, 20=T, 19=S, 20=T, 1=A, 12=L, 11=K

‘Let’s talk’ 

Your hand scrunches the paper into a ball, it remains in there. The other grasps the pen so hard that it breaks in your hand. Blue ink explodes all over the desk. 

It takes several deep breaths to calm down. You still see red as you highlight the issue and email your team to fix it.

With no second thoughts, you rush back home. You can’t stay in Skyhaven any longer. 

It’s eerily quiet when you enter your house.

Usually the babysitter would be waiting on the couch for you. The living room is completely empty and a mess. There are still dishes from the sink indicating that Eve had lunch at least. Your intuition screams that something is wrong. You grab a knife from the block, slowly making your way through the house, checking every room as you go on. The only one remaining is Eve’s bedroom. The light is on.

Your mind begs you to not go in but it surrenders, for Eve’s sake. 

The door opens with a light creak from your touch. He’s sitting on the armchair in her room. The same one Elijah used to sit on with her. Caleb has your daughter in his arms. She’s fast asleep, seeing her unharmed brings you some relief. It snaps when his hand reaches to brush hair away from her face. 

“Let her go!” You try to rush at him but something immobilizes you, like you’re getting crushed by something. The knife you were carrying clatters on the ground.

“Shhh,” he brings a finger up to his lips. “Do you want to wake her up?”

“I sent the babysitter home. She didn’t put up much of a fight when I threatened to arrest her. Don’t get mad at her, she didn’t have a choice.” His voice is too calm. He doesn’t even look at you, gaze fixed on Eve. “I didn’t know what I was going to do with her at first,” he admits then he looks at you. “She’s your daughter but she looks just like that bastar-” 

“Don’t call him that,” the words escape from your mouth before you can stop that.

His hand on her stills. You watch as the emotion dies down in his eyes. The same notion you saw play out on your phone, when MC refused to go with him. His possessiveness had you swooning then. You had cried for him, for the tragic story they shared. It didn’t excuse his actions but you could understand them. None of that is present here. None of this should even be happening. There are no excuses for him anymore. 

“I was going to give her away, so I could have you to myself.” He doesn’t respond to your remark, you wish he did so you didn’t have to listen to those words. You gasp and open your mouth to plead but he cuts you off. “All I had to do was spend two hours with her. She might look like him but everything else is from you. She smiled at me the way you used to.”

You look away from the sickening devotion on his face. It’s disgusting. 

Caleb isn’t pleased by your disrespect. He knows how to finish the blow. “She asked me if I was her father. She doesn’t even remember him.” He gives you a soft smile. “I told her yes.”

He gets up from the chair and walks over to her bed, placing her down gently on the bed. He makes sure the blanket covers her before turning to you.

“I’ll admit there’s another reason I’m letting her stay. To keep you in line.”

He takes slow steps towards you, like a hunter taking his time to end his prey.

You can’t help the tears running down your face. His gloved hand reaches up to wipe a tear away. “Don’t cry,” he whispers, his evol stops just so he can bring you into his arms, comforting you like he isn’t the cause. He doesn’t use it again, he has you right where he wants. 

“Why are you doing this?” the words come out hoarse.

He brings your head back up, both hands cradling your cheeks, level to his face. “Because I’ll go insane without you.” His thumb rubs circles on the skin underneath. Each touch is more revolting than the last.

“You’re already insane,” you whisper. 

Caleb lets out a soft laugh. “I can be worse than this,” his demeanour is gentle but you know it’s a warning.

“It’s not just Eve, [Name]. I’ll go after everyone you love. Penelope will be the first. Do you think a pregnant woman can survive the fleet’s harsh interrogation methods?”

Your eyes widen even more. “No, no, she has nothing to do with this. Leave her alone. Please, Caleb.”

He groans when you say his name. Your bodies are pressed so close that you can feel him get excited. It takes everything to not rip yourself from his hold.

“Then promise you’ll be mine. Say it.”

You don’t respond, taking your time to say the words. But you don’t even get to make that choice as his eyes slowly lose the spark.

“I-I’ll be yours, Caleb.”

His mouth is on yours. You make no move against him or to stop him. His lips press deeper into yours, his tongue darts out in an attempt to make you open your mouth. You don’t. A sound rumbles from him, like a growl before a sharp pain erupts on the corner of your lips. He bites you so hard you can feel the skin rip and the blood drip. You try to jerk your head back but his hold on your face tightens, enough to bruise. The yelp you give from the pain gives him the access he needs. 

“Kiss back,” he growls and this time you know to listen.

When he finally pulls away, you’re left trembling as you struggle to breath. Your blood coats his mouth, making him look like the monster he truly is. He has that blank look again. His finger caresses the scab forming on your lips before pressing down hard enough for you to hiss in pain.

“When your partner kisses you, you’re supposed to do it back, [Name]. Don’t make me do this again.”

You nod, too tired to fight. Not like you even can. His behaviour shifts again at your obedience. “Good girl,” he praises.

He looks around Eve’s room. 

“Pack your bags. Enough for a couple of days. You’re moving in with me.” It’s an order, one you can’t refuse. 

Caleb watches with unconcealed satisfaction as you follow his command. 

It’s been a week since you entered this hell hole. 

Just like in the main story, his apartment is devoid of anything that isn’t grey. It’s soulless, just like its owner.

He tells you to decorate to your taste and for Eve’s sake, you have to. Kids can’t grow up in a stale environment. 

Speaking of Eve, she’s smitten with the man. You die a little inside every time she calls him Dad. Elijah only exists in your memories now. Caleb had taken one look at your wedding photos before burning them. Seeing the daily routine of her running into his arms when he comes back from work is torture. He’ll hold her in his arms before coming up to you and placing a kiss on your forehead. Then you give a smile that you both know is fake. It’s all an act.

Luckily, the collar around your neck is invisible. You’re free to come and go as you please. No one in your life has any idea what you’re going through and it’ll remain that way. Pen asked you once if everything was okay, you brush her concern off and tell her you just miss Elijah. 

On your second day in his house, you had asked him about work.

“As long as you behave.”

It’s yet another thing he holds over you. 

It’s Monday morning now. As you wake up, it’s to the sounds of something sizzling in the kitchen. Caleb had a rare day off, he had pushed you back on the bed when you tried to leave, claiming he’ll get Eve ready and take her to school. You had no choice but to remain in bed until you fell back asleep.

You share the bedroom with him. It’s the largest in his apartment. The one he was supposed to give to MC. Every night you go to bed without him and every morning you wake up to him tightly wrapped around you. You ignore the feeling of it pressed up against you, just glad he doesn’t act on it.

He still kisses you. A deep kiss before he leaves that always ends in a make out, leaving you breathless and panting each time. He looks at you in a way like he’s contemplating throwing you on the counter and having his way. Something always stops him, he ends up reaching for his hat, placing it on his head to hide the hunger in his eyes, before leaving. 

You worry about the day he won’t hold back. 

You make your way to the bathroom and do your morning routine. You remain in your pajamas, throwing on a robe before you enter the kitchen.

Caleb’s standing shirtless, clad only in plaid pajamas bottoms. He’s grown even more muscular from the last time you saw him at university. He doesn’t tell you about the scars on his body or why he no longer has an arm unaware you already know the answer. You have yet to see him wear that necklace. For a few seconds, you try to make yourself believe this is a normal domestic scene, desperate to make this easier for you but you can’t. You just can’t. 

You want that brown hair to be blonde. You don’t want to look at purple eyes that resemble galaxies, you want deep brown eyes staring back at you. 

“Good morning,” he doesn’t turn around, busy flipping a pancake.

“Morning,” you say back, walking closer to the kitchen island and taking a seat on the barstool. There’s a laminated paper on it. You bring it closer to you so you can read. ‘Certification of Marriage’ is typed at the top in big fancy letters. You stop reading when you see yours and Caleb’s full names next. 

“What did you do?” you whisper. It feels like there’s a ball stuck in your throat.

He turns the stove off, finished with the last pancake. Taking his time to answer, he sets up the counter for breakfast. You know better than to push him. It doesn’t stop your hands from shaking.

“It’s only normal for couples to get married, honey,” he says to you like you’re stupid. Then he steps closer and grasps your hands in his. The action lets you notice the gold ring glinting on his ring finger. “I might not be your first husband but I’ll certainly be your last.”

When your expression doesn’t mimic his excited one, he gives you a sly grin. “Notice anything different,” his eyes focus on the ring in your hand. You look down, nothing about it had seemed off originally. It had always remained in the corner of your mind, never in your focus since you had already gotten used to it being there. But as you look deeper you notice differences. It’s a bit thicker and the gold is brighter than normal. It doesn’t look like it’s been worn for years.

It’s not your ring.

Caleb lets you snatch your hands out of his, he says nothing as you yank the ring off. You look for the inscription inside, begging inside to whatever gods that exist that is all a trick. That it’s still the ring Elijah gave you.

‘Forever yours’ is nowhere to be seen. ‘Eternity’ is written instead.

“When did yo-”

“While you were sleeping. You’re a very deep sleeper, you know? Could do whatever I want to you.”

You get the message. With no other words you put the ring back on your finger. All you can give him is a strained smile. “It’s beautiful,” you say as you cry. 

One night when Caleb enters the apartment, she’s trailing behind him.

Her eyes look at you in surprise. You’re sitting on the couch with Eve in your arms, watching some princess movie she was obsessed with. As your daughter sees him, she rushes out of your arms to hug him.

Caleb drops her luggage down and welcomes her in his arms. 

Eve has never been a shy kid, so she walks over the young girl and tugs on her pants. “I’m Eve!” 

The girl crouches down and pats her head before introducing herself. In that moment Caleb makes his way to you, crouching down before you. “She has some business here in Skyhaven. Is it okay if she stays until then, pretty?” 

His question leaves you dumbfounded. Why would he need your permission?

“It’s fine,” you respond. He leaves a kiss on your hand before walking back to them. His hand comes down to pat Eve’s head. “You can call her Auntie, sweetheart. She’s my sister.” Eve’s eyes go wide in wonder. 

It makes you a little happy. All you could give Eve was one aunt, your real family could burn for all you care. 

“Choose any room you like. Except our bedroom and Eve’s,” Caleb lets her know.

That causes your eyebrow to raise. So, he wouldn’t be giving up his room to her like he originally had. And even though she looks so confused why you’re there, she asks nothing. You suppose she’s already too busy trying to grapple with him being alive. 

The dinner you all had together that night was so awkward. Eve gave a tired yawn in the baby chair. “You tired, baby?” you coo at her, slightly pinching her chubby cheeks. She gives you a tired nod. 

You don’t notice the adoring look Caleb sends your way but the girl sitting next to him does. 

“I’ll take her bed,” he says, getting up and carrying Eve, who makes herself at home in his arms. You watch as they enter her bedroom.

“I suppose you’ve forgiven him then.”

Her voice catches your attention. For a moment, you contemplate telling her the truth but you have no idea what Caleb will do in response. She still doesn’t know that she’s in a snake’s nest but she’ll come to that conclusion herself.

“Something like that.”

You get up and put the dishes in the sink. Her mouth opens and closes a couple of times, trying to come up with a suitable question but it's interrupted by Caleb coming back. He sits back down next to her and they start talking. All you need to do is hear the words ‘Kevi’ and ‘lockdown’ to mentally check out. You’ve never been one to disassociate before but it’s how you survive in this place.

You jump a little when muscular arms wrap around you. You hear his chuckle as he presses a kiss on your shoulder. “Missed you at work today,” he mumbles against your shirt. “You say that everyday,” you quip. 

“Cause it’s true everyday.” 

His hands uncurl just so he can feel every part of your stomach, they explore, kneading the skin as they go. You turn the sink off. 

The tip of his nose nuzzles into your nape before he replaces it with his mouth. You yelp when he bites down, not from pain since he’s being gentle but from shock. Thinking otherwise, his mouth lets go before you feel him kiss the bite, his way of apologising. But then the kisses trail off, to any part of your neck he can find. You bite your lip to try and keep the noises in but a small whimper escapes when his tongue licks a stripe down your neck. 

“Caleb I don-”

“I know,” comes a husky reply. “I won’t go further than this.” Not yet.

He tugs you into your shared bedroom, not bothering to let you change. You lay together on the bed, with him practically pulling you on top of him. He absentmindedly traces shapes on your back, soothing you to sleep.

The glass makes contact with the floor and shatters.

Eve cries out of fear in your hold and you try to comfort her.

“Did that calm you down?”

You wait for him to say that. It never comes. The pats you’re giving Eve come to a stop as you stare at the rage on Caleb’s face. He’s mad at her. He shouldn’t be, not in this scene. 

His hand reaches for her wrist in such a tight hold that you wince with her. Eve shakes in your arms.

“Are you crazy?” he says through gritted teeth. “That could’ve hit them!” His voice booms through the room. Eve’s cries become louder.

Her eyes widen and her head snaps to you. “I-I didn’t mean-I’m sorry.”

“CALEB!” you force out. You hate yelling. You hate fighting. That’s when you realise you’re shaking too. You promised yourself as a kid, staring at the bruises on your arms, that you would never let your children be scared in their own home. You couldn’t even keep that promise. 

The sound of your voice breaks him out of his rage. 

“You’re the one scaring Eve right now. Let her go. You’re hurting her!”

He lets her arm go. She’s quick to let go and assess the damage. It’s red and you can see imprints of Caleb’s fingers. It’ll definitely bruise. 

Caleb stares down at the arm that hurt her. He wishes it was the mechanical one. It’s not. 

“P-pips, I-”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence as she pushes her way past him back to her room. You make eye contact with her but neither of you say a word. He stares at you, lost. But you’re the same. He’s not supposed to act this way. He shouldn’t be putting you above her. It’s unnatural. It goes against everything he is.

There’s nothing you can say to comfort him, you walk away and bring Eve into her room. She cries and hiccups and all you can do is repeat ‘I’m sorry’ over and over again as you press kisses into her hair.

A few days after the incident occurred pass by and tensions have started to melt away.

The two are still a little on edge around each other but you see it in their eyes. They still care for each other. Caleb had apologised profusely to Eve the next day, taking her out for ice cream. The little girl forgave him too quickly for your taste. You’ll have to teach her better when she grows up. 

Currently Eve is at school and Caleb at his job, not much was needed for you at work so you’re back. You laze on the dining chair, your mind is clear for once. But peace never lasts long for you. She enters the apartment, out of breath.

You stare at her and wait.

“He’s keeping you here, isn’t he?”

“And ten points goes to the winner,” you clap. “What would you like for your reward?”

“Help. I’d like help.”

She sits in front of you, launching into details about the toring chip in his head. What it is and what it does. The professor that did it to him. She tells you about what Kevi has become. All of it you already know.

She looks at you for a reaction but you keep your blank expression.

“And it matters to me, why?”

Her expression falters. “B-because it means he’s doing this under the chip's influence. It’s not his fault! We can help him!”

“We?” you raise an eyebrow. “Okay, let’s say I’m willing to entertain this. You said the chip could wipe all his emotions?”

She nods.

“Good.”

“W-what…?”

“I hope that fucking happens. After everything he’s put me through, it’s what he deserves.”

“Don’t you get it? If we find a way to get rid of the chip then he’ll go back to normal. He’ll let you go.”

“No, he won’t,” you lean back in the chair. “You don’t see it because you’re still blinded by the man you think he is. The chip didn’t give him this…infatuation out of nowhere. It just took away the resolve that stopped him from acting on it. Which is why it’s best that the chip works, if he doesn’t feel then he’ll let me go.” 

She stares at you in horror. 

“Did you really believe I would want to help him?” you scoff. “That’s cruel, especially from you. Are you sure you’re a hunter?” you shake your head at her. “Maybe you two are more alike than you think.”

She stares down at her hands, her hair covers her face so you can’t see what expression she’s wearing. You wait for her to start yelling but it doesn’t happen.

“...You’re right,” she admits. When she lifts her head back up, tears are running down her face. “I just want him back, the way he used to be. Even if it meant looking the other way.” 

You should feel anger. You should feel the need to give her a slap or two. But all you see sitting before you is a little girl crying out for her brother. Besides, nothing you say or do will match the disgust and guilt she’s currently feeling at herself.

She gets up. “I’ll find a way to get you out of here.”

“And what? Can you guarantee protection for my child? For my loved ones? Because he threatened all of them. And he’ll go through with each one.”

She goes silent again.

“That’s what I thought. I think it’s best that you finish whatever you came here to do. And then go back to Linkon. The Caleb you miss died in that fire. Grieve that version of him and move on. Don’t come back. It’ll make all our lives easier.”

“I can’t just leave you here!”

You scoff again. “You and I both know you’re not going to do anything. You love him too much. Even if you tried, what’ll you do when, not if, when the Fleet finds out? They’ll dispose of him but not before killing me and my daughter in the process. So, drop that righteous attitude and just leave.” 

She’s gone the next day.

It’s been a month since then.

You sit in the most uncomfortable position on the couch. It’s the only thing bringing you relief from the cramps.

Your husband enters the room.

“What’s wrong?” he asks as a small groan escapes you.

“Period,” you’ve taken to giving him one worded answers, sometimes no answer at all. 

“It’s okay. You won’t have this problem next month.”

He watches as the confusion on your face is replaced with horror. He gives you a smile and kisses your temple. “I have to go now. I’ll be back at night, hon.” He leans down to your ear. “We’ll get started then,” he rubs your round stomach, like he already sees what he plans. “Eve deserves some siblings.”

You don’t respond as he leaves. Those words repeat in your head. They throb in your ears. 

Siblings. As in plural. As in more than one. 

There’s nothing you can do to combat the dread you feel for the rest of the day. He’s already decided your future and you both know that you can’t do anything about it. 

You stand before the shelf. The one with the picture of her and Caleb in their childhood. A bitter feeling grows at their happy smiles.

While she always got the perfect Caleb - the act he performed only for her - you got the real one. The one who’ll say it’s time he gets to be selfish when you both know selfish is all he’s ever been with you. 

A crack had begun to form in you the day you met him, one so small you never noticed. It stayed that way even as it began to get larger and new ones joined for you were too lost in him to realise. When you did notice, it was too late. All you heard as he left you was the sound of you shattering.

Then he waited for you to patch yourself back up so he could do it again. You’ve finally realised what you should’ve back then. He’ll destroy you, ruin you if it means keeping you by his side.

He’ll do it all with no remorse.

And it’s too late for you, you realise as you hear the sound again.

He won.

AN: I know nothing about programming. Why did I make the reader one, then? Maybe because I like making my life difficult! Don’t take anything I’ve written in regards to her job seriously, I just made shit up. 

I did make reader plus size but I’ve never been one to focus on the bodies of those I write about. 

I did not mean for Caleb to turn out this way but I lost the 50/50 to him and didn’t get Master of Fate so this is my revenge :) (I waited so long for the fucking rerun) 

Let me know if you would like to be on the tag list for the other versions!

Tag list: @zeverean @quill-for-glory @smittenlynn @nm4565natty @miuangel

[selkiebinch]

pokemon sumo for the fandom ask game if you'd like 👉👈

Okay it's been so long since I played these games, like maybe 8 years ago or so? So I'm a lil rusty

Fave male character - Guzma 😍💖 he's a great new spin on a "villain" type in Pokemon, and his motivations totally make sense. Also, he's a great big brother for his Skullies!

Favorite female character - hmm, I think Professor Burnet? Her design is super fun and I love how she debuted in a pokemon mini game on the 3ds, or was it DSi, I don't remember lol

Also her and Kukui are precious 😍

Plumeria is a bad bish tho and I love her, too

Least favorite character - this may be controversial, idk, but Sophocles always annoyed me 😭😅 I'm glad in PoMa he and Cyrus are friends, that's kind of cute, but him by himself is just annoying and I'm not a fan of his design, despite the fact that hooray plus sized ppl in Pokemon exist! We def need more plus sized designs. I get he's just a kid but I still feel that way

Favorite ship- okay so like. Polycule ship of Burnet and Kukui being married, then Kukui dating Guzma, then Guzma dating Plumeria.

Guzma gets all the love from Plums and Kukui and mellows out post Skull, and Burnet and Kukui keep having their wonderful marriage

Favorite friendship - okay this is def queer coded but!! The MC and Lillie!! I love the journey they go on together and MC helping Lillie open up, very cute and good

Favorite quote- first thing that comes to mind is the very memey Y'ALL ARE STUPID from Guzma LMAO. That rly was a great moment, especially in Pokemon when they don't normally talk like that 😭 there's probably some deep quote that I also would love if I looked it up tho

Worst character death (if any)- this is Pokemon so deaths are just implied but UMM THAT SLOWPOKE ETERNALLY ENCASED IN ICE OMG 😭😭

"this made me so happy you have no idea" moment- COLRESS RETURNING AAAA!! My mans!! Also I am obsessed with the "I am wanted in Unova for war crimes" meme

Saddest moment- the tragedy of Lillie and Gladion's upbringing?? Oh my God the trauma these kids will have to unpack in therapy.

Also Guzma being so insecure that he let Lusamine's honey-worded manipulation get the better of him and team up with Aether, putting himself and all of Team Skull in danger. And then he cries when he realizes he was just being used omg?????

Favorite location- okay there's so many pretty locations in SuMo but I love the peaceful top of the snowy mountain near their new Pokemon League. 🥺 I remember going there a lot for the Vibes

[jut-and-dae-enthusiast]

The Only Exception // s.c.b

pairing: idol!changbin x fem!reader I genre: fluff, friends to lovers, some angst, one sided love, 18+ I warnings: some talk of self-image issues, relationship trauma, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex (wrap it up kiddos), breeding kink if you squint, oral sex (f receiving), use of pet-names (babe, baby,princess), mc is unexperienced but not a virgin, aftercare, i am a huge simp for seo changbin, mc is plus sized (bc there aren't enough chubby y/n's in the world and this is my fic)

word count: 10.3k words

a/n: This is my first time posting a fic on here and I have no idea how it's gonna go. If you guys enjoy this, I already have more than enough ideas for a second part/make this into a series.

feedback and re-blogging is deeply appreciated!

synopsis: she's given up on love and decided to focus on building her career. However, meeting a certain member of Stray Kids may change things.

 

Everywhere you went, whispers followed. 

Everywhere you went, whispers followed. 

“There's the spinster.” “Did you hear when she said she’ll never get married?” “I wonder how many cats she has at this point.”

In the beginning, it bothered you a lot. You would lash out, cry, yell. People thought you were crazy, labeling you a psycho on top of all the other things they said about you. But eventually they left you alone. 

Now, even when you hear these whispers, you ignore it. Do you find it annoying that people talk like this even though you’re only 25? Yes. But you figured it was probably magnified due to your outspoken hatred towards the idea of marriage. 

“A man will only slow me down.” You would mumble passively whenever your employee’s tried to ask you about this mindset. “Do you think I achieved this much by this age because I was flirting with boys and going on dates?” Whenever you spoke like this, the awkwardness rose in the air like a swift breeze. “But that’s just my preference. Do whatever you like.” You tried to lighten the room, but it hardly worked. 

The thing you despised the most were the men who attempted to “tame” you. They were normally men who would recognize you from work and try to approach you at the bar. 

“Maybe you just need to meet the right guy.” Was a common line. 

“Are you implying that you are this mystical right guy?” You would retort and watch the fire snuff from their eyes. Because they were losers to start with, they were never persistent. They preferred cute, easy women. Women who would giggle at their jokes and smile brightly at them. If you thought really hard, you could remember a time when you were exactly like that. 

Seven Years Ago

“Why don’t you put yourself out there? The love of your life won’t come onto your doorstep!” Your friend teased, pausing the romance movie you had put on the tv. 

“I don’t know, it’s kinda scary. I think I’m okay with waiting.” You assured them, resuming the movie and tuning them out. 

Eventually, you gave in to their nagging and decided to go on a blind date. When you got there, you smiled softly to yourself. While he wasn’t the most handsome man you had ever seen, he had potential. A different haircut, maybe some better clothes. Something in your stomach felt weird, but you pushed it to the side, calling it nerves. 

The date went well. He was nice and made you laugh. You could immediately tell that he liked you more than you liked him just by the way he looked at you. Also, the way he practically begged for your number at the end of the date. When you got home that night, they texted all night. Even though you weren't crazy about him, you liked the fact that he gave you attention and figured it wouldn’t hurt to just see how it goes. 

Fast forward two weeks and you could feel yourself liking him more and more. Even though you were scared of how quickly your feelings were developing, you were comforted by the fact that he still seemed to like you more. He was still actively pursuing you and messaging you all day. 

A month later, your relationship still wasn't official. However, you had completely fallen for him. In the ways you weren't attracted to him before, you suddenly found him cute. you found his style endearing, his haircut adorable. Even when he was forgetful or late, you were just smitten with him. They had gone on many more dates during that time. They went to the movies, cafe’s, walks in the park, just about anything a college aged couple could do. 

“Hey, I think we should stop here.” He suddenly said out of nowhere as they walked home together after seeing a movie. 

“What?” you asked, confused at the sudden confession. 

“I just think that we shouldn’t see each other anymore.” It was quiet for a moment between the two of them, tears already spilling down your cheeks. “You’re such a sweet girl. You deserve someone better than me. I know you’ll find a guy who really cherishes you one day.” And then he left you crying in the middle of the sidewalk. you were hurt and confused. you didn’t want someone else, you wanted him. How could he walk away from you so easily when not even a week ago, he gushed about how perfect you were and how lucky he was to have you? Said he liked you so much over and over on the phone because he was so enamored with you. 

A week later, you saw him walking in the store. His hand was holding tightly to a girl who was small and cute and pretty. You ducked into an aisle to avoid making eye contact with him, frantically wiping the tears from your eyes. You remembered how he so adamantly told you he “preferred bigger girls” and didn’t even care about your size. You weren't massive by any means, but you looked big compared to that girl. You could probably fit four of that girl into the hoodie you were wearing right now. 

After a long while of convincing, you allowed your friends to set you up on yet another blind date. You decided to go into this one positively. Maybe last time was an isolated incident. Not every guy could be like that, right?

This time, you found yourself in a difficult situation. You had liked him from the very beginning. He was handsome and charming and said all of the right things. But he clearly only wanted one thing from you. He was respectful and gentlemanly for the first month, sweeping your right off of your feet. However, after they had their first kiss, you saw a different side of him. Begging for explicit photos, sending unsolicited photos of his own, and becoming sex crazed in general. Suddenly, they couldn’t even meet up without doing something. Whether it was intense makeout sessions or touching, he was always coming onto you. You felt conflicted because you did in fact like him and was okay with it most of the time. However, he only spoke affectionately to you when they were in the act of doing things like that. He only said he loved you when he was inside of you, which you realized when you would try to say it during the day and be hit with “oh yeah, me too.” He only called you pretty when you were naked, only wanted you if you were pleasing him. After six months of this, there came a time when you said no. They were sitting on his couch and his hands began to wander, as they always did, when you stopped him. 

“Babe, I’m not really feeling it tonight. Can we just cuddle?” You pleaded with him, your voice soft but your hands firmly moving him away. 

“Yeah, sure.” He pretended to be okay with it, pulling you in and kissing the top of your head. A few minutes passed and he huffed, clearly upset. Less than ten minutes after that, his hands started wandering again. 

“Babe, please. I asked for just one night.” You pleaded again, scooting away from him. He groaned and rolled his eyes. 

“You’ve been totally leading me on all night though.” He whined, jutting his lip out. 

“No I haven’t.” you were confused, knitting your brows together as you looked at him. 

“Yeah you have. You wore that outfit you know I like and you keep kissing me.” 

“I didn’t wear this outfit with the intention of doing anything to you. I just think it's comfortable. And we can’t kiss without going any further?” You could see him getting frustrated with you, his attention everywhere but on you as you spoke. 

“I just think you’re so sexy, babe. Look, I already want you so bad.”  He points to the bulge growing in his pants at literally you just sitting there. “It hurts so bad, baby. Please.” He moved towards you again, slowly. When you tried to push him back again, he groaned and rolled his eyes. “I guess we can just break up then, huh? You clearly don’t like me anymore.” He pouted, standing up from the couch. Your heart dropped, fear making your muscles clench. 

“I-I never said I didn’t like you, I just…” You sighed. “I feel like this is all you want from me. Can you promise that you like me for more than just sex?” He nodded eagerly, quickly climbing on top of you. The second you touched him, he moaned “Ah, I love you so much.”

The next day, he broke up with you. He said he needed to focus on himself for a while, telling you that you would eventually find someone who loved you more than he could. Just like the last one, he ended up with a new girl shortly after. 

This time, you not only felt heartbroken but also used. You felt like you got nothing from that relationship other than a different way to view yourself. Is that all guys would want from you? 

Every single relationship you had in the next two years ended on the same note. Eventually, you realized that men only liked you while you were convenient. While you either gave them what they wanted or until someone they wanted more came along. You were never the first choice, never the only option. Because of this, anger grew in your heart. You had shed tears for men who didn’t even remember you or want you. You were determining your value based on if these terrible men wanted you. 

“No, never again.” you muttered to yourself as you drug yourself out of your bed. You wiped the remaining tears from your eyes and decided that from that moment forward, you would no longer subject yourself to this. You would show each and every one of those jerks that you were a force to be reckoned with. That you didn’t need them exactly the same way they didn’t need you. 

Present Day

“Mom, we’ve been over this. No blind dates, no setting me up, no giving out my number. You know how I feel about all of that stuff.” you were exasperated, the phone call with your mother going the direction it always did. 

“You’re already 25 and aren’t married. I’m worried about you.” your mother was kind and soft, just like you used to be. However, your mother didn’t have to worry about the troubles herr daughter went through in regards to dating. Your mother was skinny and beautiful and could have any man she had wanted. She chose her husband in middle school and they’ve been together ever since. 

“Nothing to worry about here. I’m successful, rich, and happy. What more could I need?” You took a sip of your wine, looking out the window of your apartment. 

“Love.” your mother whispered softly. 

“I have that already! I love you and dad, my dog, my friends!” 

“Yes, but you know a love between a man and woman is different than all of those. It’s beautiful and wonderful all at the same time.” 

“Mom, I think you’ve seen too many romance movies. Love like that doesn’t exist for girls like me. I already tried that in college. My priorities are elsewhere now.” You knew your mom came from a good place, but you were tired of explaining yourself. You were tired of feeling like you were weird for feeling this way. If only people knew what had made you this way. If only they felt the fear in your chest when you imagined trying to date again. You would rather be alone for the rest of your life than have to feel that way ever again. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t new for you to meet celebrities in your line of work. Your company was a management company, primarily helping overseas artists who are touring in North America. They gave them additional support, set them up with translators, set up their catering, everything they would need to have a successful tour. And with the rise in K-Pop, you were meeting more and more Korean artists. BTS was among your favorites that you had met so far, their world wide fame clear simply from their charisma. 

You wouldn’t consider yourself a full blown kpop stan, but you enjoyed listening to their music. It was also a good outlet for you because they had to say that they loved and cherished you. That they wanted no one else but you. You didn’t need the attention of attainable men who were subpar when these gorgeous boys made you feel like you were everything. It was a perfect balance because they were just far enough out of reach that you would never get your hopes up. 

“Ma’m, our next music artist is here to meet with you.” Your assistant announced from the door. In confusion, you looked down at your schedule. Maybe you had forgotten. 

“Alright, let them in.” You remained composed and professional, even though you had swore you had no more meetings today. You sat up straight and pushed forward a smile, greeting the group as they walked in. Now, this was an adorable group of boys. You bet they were all extremely young. 

They all awkwardly took a seat, shuffling nervously around each other. 

“Let us introduce ourselves. 1,2, Step out! Hello, we are Stray Kids.” The leader spoke up. His dimples were cute. Even their intro was cute. you nodded, smiling. 

“It’s nice to meet you all. My name is y/f/n y/l/n. Can we go down the line and hear each of your names?” You always did this so that no one felt too uncomfortable or left out. So, they each introduced themselves. Bangchan, Felix, Han, LeeKnow, Seungmin, Changbin, Hyunjin, and I.N. Without much thought, you dove into the meeting. They discussed what the boys would like, need, and everything that would help them have a comfortable tour. The boys were polite, almost hesitant to ask for anything. You reminded them multiple times that their company was paying for our service, so they should make the best use of it. 

The meeting ended and you immediately got to work sending out emails for each of their requests to their respective departments. As you were typing away, you heard a few gentle taps on your door. “Yes, come in.” you called out, your eyes never leaving the computer. 

“Miss y/l/nt, one of the Stray Kids members wanted to mention something to you.” 

“Alright, let him in.” You figured it was the leader, Bangchan. He seemed very responsible and clearly cared very deeply about his group members. However, much to your surprise, it was not him. you glanced down at your notes, trying to remember where he had been sitting so you could recall his name. He cleared his throat as he took a seat in front of your desk. “You are… Seungmin?” you asked and your heart dropped when he laughed. 

“No, I’m Changbin. Sorry for bothering you, I just remembered something that I needed to bring up.” 

“I’m so sorry. Please go ahead. Whatever you need.” you were embarrassed now, your cheeks flaming red. 

“So, while we’re on tour, I’m going to need to be on a restricted meal plan.” your brows furrowed in confusion. He continued, “I need to lose some weight, so I have to go on a pretty strict diet.” 

“Why do you need to lose weight?” you looked at his figure, buff and healthy, and found yourself confused but also frustrated for some reason. 

“Oh, uh, I’m just kinda the biggest member in the group. And I don’t want our fans to be disappointed in how I look.” Without realizing, you stood up quickly. 

“Excuse me if I’m being too forward, but that’s ridiculous. You look strong and healthy, which I’m sure your fans would be extremely happy about.” you realized your emotions and slowly sat back down. “While I know that you are in control of what you do and how you live, I just think that you shouldn’t restrict yourself. You already know how stressful touring is on your body.” His eyes were wide with your sudden outburst. 

“You… You really think so?” He muttered, still shocked. 

“But uh that’s just my professional opinion. I would hate for you to pass out or fall ill because of something that could have been avoided.” you cleared your throat and shuffled through some papers. For the first time in four years, your heart was fluttering. Like it had back then. No, this was inappropriate right off the top. Not to mention not what you wanted. “I can, um, make sure that there are healthier options that will keep you on track without restricting yourself.” you began typing an email, desperately avoiding eye contact with him. You knew if you saw the way he looked at you, you would immediately blush. 

“I would really appreciate that. Thanks for being so helpful.” you glanced at him and the way he smiled made you want to melt into the floor. He quickly stood up and bowed. “I look forward to working with you.” And then left the room. You turned your back to the door and covered your now fully flushed face. What in the hell was that? Maybe because you haven't felt like this in four years, you felt it all at once. Yeah, it’s probably just because of that. 

“Thomas, are you messing with me right now?” your tone was stern, your brows furrowed as your grip tightened on the phone in your hand. 

“Unfortunately, no Ms. y/l/n. We’ve tried to find replacements, but are unable to hire anyone.” 

“Okay, what about interns? Anyone?”

“This isn’t the kind of thing we can trust an intern with. This is essentially the most important role, ma’m. And the tour officially starts tomorrow, so I’m worried things may start on the wrong foot if this position isn’t filled.” 

“Don’t they have management on their end?” 

“Yes, but they hired us so that those employees could stay in Seoul.” You thought for a moment, annoyed. They needed an artist manager, someone who would work personally with the boys to get them where they needed to go as well as ensure their safety. It’s what you had started out doing before starting this company yourself, seeing the need was great. “I apologize if this is speaking out of turn, ma’m, but I think you would be a great fit for this. The main issue is that we need someone fluent in Korean and you can fulfill that requirement.” you rolled your eyes. 

“I suppose you have a point there. Let me talk with the advisory board about it and see if the v.p would be willing to fill in while I’m gone. I’ll update you.” 

Everything went swimmingly, if you can imagine that. Everyone was more than okay with you stepping out for a few months, meaning things wouldn’t need to be as uptight (but they never told you that). That morning you met the boys at their hotel, explaining that you would be in charge of caring for them the entire U.S leg of the tour, stressing that they shouldn’t hesitate to ask for anything. Their comfort and happiness was the top priority. 

“I thought you were the company CEO, why are you doing a job like this?” The leader, Bangchan, asked as they were riding in the van to the venue. 

“I am the CEO. However, I’m also the only person who could fill this position on such short notice.” you answered politely, giving him a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, I’m more than qualified. I did this for a while before starting the company.” He nodded, flashing you a smile before one of the boys called for his attention in the seat behind him. 

After arriving at the venue, you jumped into action. Directing the boys towards their green room, sending the crew where they needed to go, and checking in with venue staff to ensure that everything was going according to the email that had been sent to them. Once things were handled outside, you poked your head in to check on the guys. 

“Is everything okay for you guys? Do I need to run for anything?” 

“Oh, no, everything’s perfect. Thank you miss…?” Bangchan was obviously unsure of how to address you. 

“Just call me y/n! We’re going to be spending quite a bit of time together, so no need to be formal!” you bowed and left, going to double check that things were in place for the boys, like water bottles, towels, other things. You felt the thrill of frantically running around that you had missed. Spending years in the office had made you forget how exciting it was to be on the scene. Maybe you would do this more often. 

You walked back into the green room to check on things, as you were working down your list, when you had clearly walked in on a conversation. When they noticed you, they switched from English to Korean. And you could tell he was talking about you. It was Han? The one with the puffy cheeks. You were still learning their names. 

“I wonder if she even knows what she’s doing. Like, how can a CEO know anything about what it’s like to actually be there? I bet she’s super overwhelmed.” 

“Ah, you weren’t in my van earlier when I explained it to Bangchan. I’m more than qualified, as I did this for a few years when I was in college. But I appreciate you worrying, it makes me feel very cared for. I hope you’ll continue to care for me moving forward.” You responded back in perfect Korean, which resulted in both of them looking at you with wide terrified eyes. 

“I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you! I shouldn’t have been talking like that about you.” Han ended his sentence with a 90 degree bow and the other member (I.N?) also bowed. 

“Oh, don’t worry too much about it! I’m not offended at all!” You flashed them a smile and continued doing your work, successfully instilling the fear in them that would make them behave for you on this tour. 

As you continued about my work, fluttering from here to there, you accidentally walked into where apparently the weights were. Bangchan and Changbin were doing some pump up reps to make sure their muscles looked good. Your eyes instantly went to the shoulder muscles that were showing through Changbin’s shirt and you had to force yourself to turn away and look anywhere else. 

“Uh, just checking in boys. You’ve got about 20 minutes until the VIP soundcheck begins, do you need anything from me before then?” 

“Oh, actually, it would be amazing if you could bring us a few bottles of water? We forgot before we started.” Bangchan asked politely. You quickly reached into your backpack and pulled out two bottles. You turned around to set them on a bench and had to avert your eyes. 

“Let me know if you need anything else. I’ll be around.” You bowed and then quickly left the room. Good lord, that's dangerous. 

The show went amazingly, of course. As you watched from behind the stage, a bundle of towels in your arms, you found yourself enamored by their energy. You usually never cared much to pay attention during shows back when you were younger. But back then, you would usually find a cute roadie and flirt with him the entire time. A waste of time by your current standards. Also, why would you want to miss out on this? When they came back for their first outfit change, they were sweating so badly that they seemed so grateful for something as simple as a towel. After a quick change, a few makeup and hair touch ups, they were back out there for more. When the end of the show came, you found yourself getting emotional for some reason. It was almost like you could feel the sadness of their fans (which you learned are called Stay) at them leaving. Like this night they had been waiting so long for was now over and they weren’t sure when they would see them again. The boys, however, were exhausted. You could tell they gave absolutely everything they had for this show. There's no way they would be like that for every single show, right? 

Around five shows in, you found yourself feeling more and more comfortable with the boys. And clearly they started to feel comfortable around you as well, the younger ones affectionately referring to you as “Noona”. At the beginning, they were nervous to ask for anything. Now, you couldn’t get away from them. 

“Noona! Can you take us to a convenience store? I want some snacks.” 

“Noona, will we have time to sightsee?” 

“Noonaaaa, we’re in Seattle, we need to get Starbucks.” 

And you honestly didn’t mind it. They were adorable and it was your job to get them whatever they wanted. You found yourself getting closer to Felix and Hyunjin, two people you didn’t expect to get close to in the beginning. Felix obviously warmed up to you pretty quick, as he was just so talkative and sweet from the start. You found yourself talking with Hyunjin about things like fashion and art when the two of them were together. 

There was only one problem- you sensed that someone was growing a crush on you. That someone, of course, was Changbin. And you already were against dating/marriage, but you also knew engaging romantically with a client was extremely inappropriate. And it took everything in you to shove these feelings deep down. Of course, he was cute. And kind. And a great person to talk with. And good lord he was hot. He also had this habit of subtly complimenting you that drove you absolutely crazy. “Noona, your hair looks nice today.” “It’s sweet how attentive you are to us.” “Noona, that eyeshadow suits you really well.” 

They were coming up on the end of the tour when you found yourself alone on the roof with Changbin, stargazing in silence. Silence wasn’t uncomfortable with him. 

“We probably won’t see you after next week, huh?” He suddenly asked out of nowhere. 

“Uh, yeah, it’s not likely. Unless we can't find someone when you guys come again.” You felt nervous as the air shifted between the two of you. He obviously had something he wanted to say and you had a feeling it was something you didn’t want to hear.

“Can I confess something to you?” 

“You probably shouldn’t.” You were trying your best to remain logical and level headed as you always had been. 

“You don’t want me to?” 

“It’s not that, but I don’t want you to get in trouble.” 

“I won’t get in trouble.” 

“Alright, fine. What would you like to confess?” You asked and your heart was pounding. You didn’t want to have to turn him down. To reject his confession of love. But you couldn’t let yourself fall into this trap again. While he seemed sweet now, there was lots of time for him to become like the others. Maybe he only feels this way because you're conveniently in front of him. 

“I… uh, I think I have feelings for you. I don’t even know why I’m confessing this to you, but I can’t go on pretending that I feel differently.” He looked at you expectantly. You took a deep breath, and looked out at the skyline. 

“Changbin, I uh, I’m sorry but, um, I don’t really want to date or get married or anything like that.” Your hands were trembling. You were scared of how he would react, if he would hate you now. You actually cared how he felt. 

“Can I ask why you feel that way?” He asked softly, looking over at you. Tears pricked at your eyes. No one has ever asked why. No one cared enough to wonder. 

“Um, I just have a bad past with dating. I’ve never been anyone’s first option. I had my heart broken alot and this is a way to protect myself. If I close the door completely, no one can come in and hurt me.” It was silent again, the only noise coming from the traffic on the street far below. 

“So… I just have to prove that you’re my first choice and that I want you for you?” A tear slipped down your cheek. How did he guess that second part? 

“I mean, you can try. I’ll allow that. But, it’s going to be a lot of work. I’m kinda messed up.” You admitted, swiping the tears away from your face. He nodded slowly from where he was. At this point, the men from the past would have scooted over and put their arm around you. Changbin stayed where he was and watched you carefully. 

“I think you’re worth it. And I haven’t even known you that long. I can’t imagine how much more I’ll think that the more I know you… But let's start as friends first, yeah? I won’t push you into anything.” Your head was spinning. How was a man this considerate? He had to be faking. There's no way this could be real. 

“Sure, let's do the friend thing first.” 

So, the two of you exchanged numbers. Once the tour ended, he kept texting you. You kept waiting for the day he would come on to you. Waiting for an unsolicited dick pic. Waiting for the “i can’t wait any longer”. But it never came. Changbin seemed more than content simply being friends. Every time you found yourself beginning to let your walls down a bit, the men of the past would flash into your mind. They said all the right things, made all the right choices. You were still hesitant about Changbin. Did he have some sort of ulterior motive? 

“Aren’t you sick of this?” You asked him one day on the phone. 

“Sick of what?” He responded, sounding confused. 

“Sick of me making you stay my friend. You probably already have feelings for someone else by now.” 

“No I don't.” He retorted quickly. “And I enjoy being your friend. If that’s what I have to do to be by your side, then that’s fine. I’ll be your friend forever if I have to.” You felt your eyes water.

“Why do you always say stuff like that? Are you trying to bring my guard down?” 

“I’m not trying to do anything, Noona. I only wish you could trust me.”

“I do trust you. I just don’t want you to expect anything from me romantically.” 

“You know that I don’t. I told you I’m more than happy being your friend.”

Months went on and you kept getting to know each other. You were waiting for the other shoe to drop at any moment for the first little while. However, you slowly realized how pure his intentions were. He never once crossed the line, never even tiptoed near it. He truly genuinely cared for you. And while he never crossed the line, he made it clear that he only had eyes for you. He said so many times that he was more than okay with playing the long game. Slowly trying to win your heart. If he didn’t get to love you, he wouldn’t get to love anyone else. 

One night, you were extra tipsy from a few too many glasses of wine and decided to give him a call. 

“Hey, Seo Changbin! How dare you make me like you! You came into my office that first day so handsome and kind and whatever. You wrapped me around your finger from the very beginning and that was so fucking rude of you.” You slurred over the phone. He quietly listened, chuckling to himself here and there. 

“Noona, did you have too much to drink?” 

“Maybe, but whatever! It’s none of your business!”

“Okay, then for your sake, I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear any of that and hang up okay? Make sure to drink some water please.” He was firm but reassuring. God he was so hot. 

“Changbin, do you still like me?” you asked quietly after a moment. 

“Yes, very much.” He replied almost instantly. 

“But I’ve made you wait so long…” It had been a year at this point since his confession. 

“It hasn’t been too bad, don’t worry.” He assured you and you could practically hear his smile. “I’ve gotta get back to work, but I’ll check in on you later okay?” His voice had dropped a little bit and you felt your heart thump even harder. 

“Um yeah, sure.” You couldn’t even think about what he said, the way he said it had the biggest effect on your drunk brain. When he hung up, you almost immediately fell asleep.

Changbin had become one of your closest friends at this point. You confided in him, laughed with him. But you wouldn’t let yourself feel anything romantic for him. You couldn’t. Even though they had known each other for two years at this point, you were scared he would suddenly change. 

The boys had come to LA for KCon (you only knew because you played a large role in the planning of the event) and asked to meet up with you for dinner. You obviously agreed, as you cherished them deeply. They had rented out a space for them to go out to and were already there when you arrived. They greeted you happily, running over to hug you. You smiled, happy to see them again and complimenting them on their most recent work. You took the open seat at the table, between Seungmin and Felix but was also across from Changbin. 

You ordered some pasta, not caring what they thought. Back when you were younger, you would have opted for a salad or something healthy looking so as to not look like someone who wasn’t minding your figure. However, now, you gave no fucks. You weren't trying to impress any of them in that way and you were hungry so you were going to eat. 

“You seem like you’ve been pretty busy since we last saw you.” Chan comments as we wait for the food. 

“Yeah, we’re doing a lot for KCon on top of other small artists doing tours. Thankfully I don’t have to do all the work.” You joked, chuckling. “But yeah, I’ve kept pretty busy. Not too busy to keep up with you guys, though. Just when I think you guys have reached your peak, you somehow go even higher. I’m very impressed and proud.” 

“Ah, Noona! You’re making me blush!” Felix shouted out from across the table, covering his cheeks. The food came to the table not long after that, so the conversation jumped around. you ended up sitting back and listening as they talked, enjoying your meal and the company. However, as you glanced in front of you, Changbin was observing you with a small smile on his face. 

“You ok?” He mouthed to you, his gaze soft and kind. You nodded and smiled. He winked and nodded before looking away. You could feel your cheeks begin to flush. But then your chest started to tighten. At the end of the night, they went to go their separate ways, a slightly tipsy Felix clinging onto you and whining about how he missed you already. 

“Aw, our little Felix is such a cute drunk.” you cooed at him, smiling sweetly. His smile widened even further as he nuzzled into you and hummed. You walked him to their car, where he slowly let go of you, pretending to cry as he climbed into the vehicle. “I’ll text you, Lixie.” You promised from outside, which made him smile again. Changbin hung back, clearly waiting for his turn to have your full attention. 

“Can you make some time for me tonight?” you asked him, wandering over towards him. He smiled and nodded, waving to the guys as they left. 

When you both got to your place, you knew it was time. You couldn’t deny the way you felt for him and he had waited so patiently until now. They were sitting on the couch and talking when you turned towards him and took a deep breath. 

“Changbin, I have something to say.” You announced, unable to look at him. 

“Oh, uh okay. Go for it.” He shifted nervously, eyes watching you intently. 

“Firstly, I just wanted to thank you for being so amazing to me this past almost two years. I really appreciate having you by my side as a friend.” You looked up at him to gauge how he was reacting. He was watching you, his brows knit together in concentration. You decided to continue.”I think… It’s time that I acknowledged my real feelings…” You paused for a second and took a deep breath. “I like you. So much. Like, everything you do drives me crazy and I want you so badly that I can’t even be afraid anymore.” Once you finished talking, the air was quiet between the two of you. You looked at him after a minute, afraid of what his reaction would be. Relief flooded over you when you saw his head turned to the side, a wide smile on his face and flushed cheeks. 

“Uh, is that how you really feel? You’re not just saying that for me?” You could tell he was trying to keep his composure, now wanting to spook you with his excitement.

“Yes, it’s how I feel.” You muttered, your fingers still trembling. 

“It makes me so happy to hear that. Like, I could die right now after hearing you say that. That was the cutest confession I’ve ever seen in my life.” He started gushing, unable to hold back. He quickly caught himself and cleared his throat. “Um, but I’ll do whatever you want. Like, if you wanna stay friends, that would be fine. If you want to date, I’m also very okay with that.” You laughed, feeling so safe in his vulnerability. 

“I want to try dating you, Changbin. I haven’t dated in a long time, but I want to give it my best shot.” He turned his back from you and squealed. Actually squealed. Like, kicked his feet and giggled. 

“Can I hold your hand?” He asked once he turned back around. You could tell that even though he was excited, he was conscious of your history with guys and wanted to be respectful. Without realizing it, you closed the space between them and kissed him gently, your hand softly on the back of his neck in an effort to pull him closer. When you pulled away, his eyes were wide. 

“Does that answer your question?” You teased, smirking. He immediately pulled you onto his lap and looked up at you lovingly. 

“Tell me when you’re uncomfortable. I’ll stop immediately.” He stated firmly, one hand rubbing small circles on your back. you nodded and cupped his face in your hands. “You are so worth it. Even if I had to wait five, ten, twenty more years. Getting to hold you like this and know that you feel safe with me makes it all worth it.” He whispered, smiling happily. You kissed his forehead, then each of his eyelids, his cheeks, his nose, his chin, and then his lips again. 

“How are you so perfect?” You whispered, resting your forehead against his. 

“I’m not. I just… love you so much.” He obviously felt awkward admitting it this soon. You had figured as much, since there was no way he could still like you at this point and not love you. 

“I love you too, Bin.” You confessed softly, your eyes closed. There was silence between the two of you for a moment, the only sound to be heard coming from their breathing. 

“Like I said, tell me when you want to stop.” He breathed, his eyes connecting with yours. Your lips met his and the hunger kicked in for the both of you immediately. 

His lips traveled down your neck, stopping every now and then to suck on one spot softly before moving on. You took this opportunity to feel him up like you had dreamed of. His shoulders, his biceps, his chest (oh my god). His hands roamed as well, gently caressing you as his kisses slowly followed the neckline of your top. In a swift movement, you removed your top. His jaw was slacked as he took you in and had come to the discovery that you weren't wearing a bra this entire time. “Baby, what did I do to deserve you?” He muttered, his eyes locking with yours. you smiled and leaned in to kiss him, guiding his hands onto your breasts. He groaned into your mouth, gently squeezing each one. You slid your hands under his shirt, desperate to make contact with his skin. He smirked and pulled his shirt off. His figure was so gorgeous you couldn’t help but gasp. 

“Don’t ever show this to Stay.” You mumbled, your hands grazing across his chest. He laughed and nodded. 

“It’s all yours.” You couldn’t help but smile, even though you were so vulnerable, you felt safe. As the two of you continued to kiss, your hips had ideas of their own, grinding against his growing bulge. The way he whimpered against your lips only encouraged you to keep going. You had never been able to imagine him sounding like that in your wildest fantasies. 

His hands slowly slid down your body and lovingly grazed across your thigh towards your core. He smiled when he felt your soaked panties, to which you bit your lip and blushed. “Such a good girl, already wet for me.” His voice was husky with lust. Combined with his already flushed cheeks and slightly swollen lips, you couldn’t handle how sexy he was. “You still okay?” He asked, his fingers resting tantalizingly close, just on your inner thigh. He made a point to make eye contact, patiently waiting for your answer. You nodded, caressing the back of his head softly. A question of how long this consideration would last wandered into your mind, but you cast it aside. If it was only temporary, you would deal with it later. But for now, there was no one else in the world but Seo Changbin. 

He slid your panties to the side, his fingers sliding along your slit to make contact with your core. He hummed happily, his head resting in the crook of your neck. He gently pulled away and laid you down, his hand resting behind your head as you laid down. 

“I’ve dreamed about tasting you for so long.” He seemed to be muttering to himself as he pulled your skirt off and removed your panties with it. You spread your legs wide for him, your heart pounding with excitement. “Ah, so pretty.” He whispered as he rubbed your thigh gently. You could feel your hips shift, desperate for his touch. He dove in face first, his tongue instantly getting to work. Your hands flew into his hair as you moaned. His tongue expertly flicked in and out of you, going faster than you could have ever imagined. You would forever view his rapping differently after tonight. His thumb made lazy circles around your clit as he lapped up every drop of you. Far too quickly, you felt that familiar knot tighten in your stomach. 

“B-Bin… I’m gonna…” You were embarrassed, as you were sure he was expecting more from you. 

“Cum for me whenever you’re ready baby.” He responded, kissing your clit gently a few times before sliding one finger inside of you. That was enough to push you over the edge, your legs wrapping around his head, your back arching, the most lewd sounds you had ever experienced coming from your mouth. When you finally rode out your high and released his head, he sat back for a moment, wiping the slick from his face. You instantly covered your face in embarrassment, your cheeks red not only from your orgasm. “Baby, what’s wrong?” He asked, softly. He kissed your knee softly and rubbed small circles on your thigh. 

“I’ve never done that before, so I didn’t think I would finish that fast.” You admitted, your face still covered. 

“Wait… No one’s ever given you head before?” He asked, shocked. You nodded and slowly uncovered your face. 

“Me finishing wasn’t the most important thing for the only other guy I’ve been with.” You explained, suddenly feeling shy at your inexperience. 

“Oh, honey. I’m so sorry.” His eyes were sad as he placed reassuring kisses on your thigh. “That’s not how it’s supposed to be.” He explained, shaking his head. “In fact, you finishing many times is my goal.” he crawled up over your body until he was basically on top of you. He kissed your lips, gently at first. 

“But what about you?” you pulled back and asked, softly. 

“It’ll happen eventually, but I’m not worried about it. I want you to feel the best I can make you feel.” He kissed you again, hands gently rubbing your sides. “But before that can even happen, I gotta stretch you a bit.” His hand slid down your body and the rest of him followed, slowly inserting one finger inside your now needy core. “Oh my god, you’re so tight.” He hissed through gritted teeth. He slowly started thrusting, setting a steady pace for himself. Soon, it was two fingers, then three. 

“Want you… So bad…” you moaned, arching your back with your eyes closed. 

“Yeah? What do you want? Tell me. Use your words.” You looked at him in surprise. This cocky attitude was unexpected but so welcome. 

“W-want… ugh… want your cock in me.” you groaned, his fingers fucking your faster and faster while you begged for him. “Please, Bin.” you whined, reaching for him. He instantly folded, taking off his pants and underwear faster than you thought was possible. 

“Well, when you ask so nicely, I guess I have to.” He groans, dragging his tip against your slit. He lined himself up with your entrance and you glanced down in time to see how big he was. You worried for a second that you weren't stretched enough, but you were determined to take every bit of him with no fuss. “Are you ready?” He looked at you for confirmation, his breathing heavy but clearly still very much in control. You nodded, biting your lip in anticipation. He inserted his tip and groaned. Slowly, he slid himself in, making sure to take time to allow you to stretch around him. Meanwhile, he was kissing your neck softly and whispering encouraging words in your ear in between his own groans and whimpers. “You take my cock so well baby. Like you’re made for me.” “Almost there, princess. You’re doing so good. Being such a good girl for me.” He finally made it all the way in, your hips meeting. You felt so full of him but in the best way possible. He stayed still for a minute, allowing you to stretch around him and adjust to his size. You bucked your hips, wanting him more and more with every moment. “Be patient, beautiful. I’m gonna take real good care of you, don’t worry.” He cooed, kissing your gently on the lips. So, this is what it was like to make love, you thought to yourself. This is what it means to not be used for your body. You were ripped out of those thoughts by his shallow thrusts, the grunts coming from his mouth sending you over the moon. With every thrust, he pulled out a little more, setting a slow but comfortable pace. You wrapped your legs around him and your arms around his neck. you wanted him closer than close. You made out with him in the sloppiest way you had ever encountered, moaning into eachothers mouths while swimming in pleasure. Without realizing, you started to clench around him. This must have been something he liked, because his controlled pace started to get sloppy and you felt his cock twitch with every clench. “I-if you keep doing that, I’m gonna lose control.” He groaned through gritted teeth. “I won’t be able to stop.” His pace was quickening, arms on either side of your head to stabilize himself. 

“Please don’t stop.” you whimpered, the idea of him stopping right now being too much. You suddenly saw his eyes shift, where they were once calm and clear, they were now dark and lustful. Almost primal. He wrapped you in his arms and held you up while he pounded into your, hips snapping into yours with every thrust. You mewled as he hit your g-spot repeatedly, as if he knew exactly where it was. You felt the knot forming in your stomach, getting close again. Without much warning, you came around him, your grip tightening on his hair at the back of his head. He didn’t slow down however, still pounding into your faster and faster, growls coming from his mouth. You felt him twitch as you saw him get closer and closer. “Cum for me baby.” you groaned, kissing and biting his neck, hands roaming around his chest, torso, shoulders, back. With a loud groan, he finished, painting the inside of you in spurts. He looked at you with wide eyes as he cummed. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to finish in you.” He tried to pull himself out, but you wrapped your legs around him and kept him in place as he finished. 

“I honestly don’t even care.” you sighed, feeling full of him. He slowly pulled himself out, rubbing your thighs lovingly. 

“You did so well, baby. So so well.” He praised, kissing your thighs with a smile. He went to the bathroom to clean himself up and came back with a towel to clean you up as well. You reached to take the towel from him, but he shook his head. “This is my job.” which you also found confusing. Your ex just threw a towel at you, which you thought was standard. He slowly and gently cleaned you up, careful of how sore you were already. “There you go my love. Oh, don’t forget to use the bathroom too so you don’t get an infection.” He reminded, a soft smile on his face. You nodded and got up, hobbling over to the bathroom. As you sat on the toilet, you felt your cheeks flush. That wasn’t the direction you had imagined things going tonight, but you couldn’t be happier. 

As you climbed back into bed, you expected Changbin to roll over and go to sleep. So, you did the same. 

“Are you upset?” He asked softly, reaching out for you. 

“No, I just figured you were tired.” You commented, rolling over to look at him. 

“I’ll never be too tired to hold you.” He says matter of factly, pulling you in closer. “If I ever meet whoever your ex is, I’m gonna have to kick his ass.” He mumbles, kissing your hair. 

“Wait, why?” you chuckled, pulling back to look at him. 

“He clearly wasn’t very good to you. And he made you think all of that was normal.” He frowns. “I understand why you wouldn’t want to be with any guy ever again if you thought they were all like that.” You felt yourself melt a bit at his words. He spoke so matter of factly about feelings you had never disclosed to anyone, him included. As you laid together, he peppered your face with small kisses, whispering sweet things to you. You felt so comfortable, so safe. You started to drift off, your eyes feeling heavy. You woke up to the lights off and a cozy Changbin in front of you. His eyes were closed, but a small smile rested on his face. You decided to let yourself fall back asleep in his arms. 

When you woke up the next morning in an empty bed, your heart instantly began racing. Was he disappointed in your performance? Did the post nut clarity hit in the morning? You looked around and saw no traces of him. You thought maybe you had dreamed it all, but upon looking in the mirror, you knew that wasn’t true. Your neck was covered in hickies and your lips were still a little swollen. You wanted to be upset, but you couldn’t be. You decided to just throw on some sweatpants and a t-shirt before heading out to make yourself breakfast. However, as you walked into the kitchen, you were shocked to hear someone already there. You slowly poked your head in and felt your eyes widen at the sight of a shirtless Changbin cooking your breakfast. 

“Um, hi?” you rasped, your voice scratchy from sleep. He turned and smiled. 

“You’re awake! I’m trying to make you some breakfast.” you walked over and saw the scrambled eggs that he was so lovingly making were slightly overcooked, a little brown in some spots. However, that happened to be exactly how you liked them. “Sorry, I know I’m not a great cook.” He rested his head on your shoulder as you turned the heat off and moved the pan to the cool burner. 

“What do you mean? You cooked these perfectly.” you smiled and patted his cheek. “I make them like this on purpose.” He hugged you tightly from behind, giggling. 

“Wow, we must really be meant for eachother then, huh?” He kissed your cheek over and over, making your smile even wider. You felt tears prick the back of your eyes but tried to hold them back. However, Changbin was as observant as ever. He turned you around and held your face in his hands, brows furrowed in concern. “What’s going on, honey?” His voice was soft, his thumbs grazing your cheeks softly. 

“I just thought you had left, so I’m happy you’re youre.” you smiled softly at him as you spoke. He frowned. 

“I wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye. You’re officially stuck with me now, Noona.” He kissed your forehead gently and then flashed you a wide smile. “Let’s eat before it gets cold, yeah?” He gently guided you over to the food, where they both made a plate and sat down at your table. While they were eating, his phone started buzzing from the counter. He attempted to ignore it, saying it probably wasn’t important. 

“I bet it’s Channie-hyung. You should go answer it.” You took a bite of your food as you watched him walk over, giving you a wide eyed look when he saw you was right. 

“Give me a minute.” He whispered and stepped into the hallway to answer. Part of you wanted to eavesdrop, but you decided to focus on eating . He came back a few minutes later and sighed. “I have to leave here soon. We have a soundcheck in like 20 minutes.” Your eyes widened, as the venue was at least 10 from your house. 

“Shit, then we need to go right now.” You stood up, abandoning your food and running to find your shoes. 

“No, it’s okay! I’ll just get a driver to come get me.” 

“It’s fine, I can just drop you off.” You were already putting your shoes on and grabbing your keys. 

“But I don’t want-” He stopped himself, looking down. 

“Anyone to see me?” you stopped and realized this was the other shoe dropping. 

“Not for any reason you’re thinking. I just don’t want you to get hurt because you’re seen with me.” You handed him his shirt, which you had grabbed from the room, and nodded. 

“It’s all good. I understand.” Did you completely mean it? You weren't entirely sure, but you decided to be cool about it rather than making him feel bad. You knew you had issues that you needed to work on too, he didn’t need to deal with all of it. 

“You sure?” He seemed confused, trying to search for all of his stuff while also talking with you. You walked over to him and hugged him from behind. 

“Yes, I’m sure. Now, get outta here. You’ve got work to do.” You kissed his shoulder. “But I’ll see you later.” He turned his head in surprise. 

“You’ll be there tonight?” He asked with a wide smile. 

“Yeah! Perks of having my team basically handling all of the artists is I can get myself very good seats. You’ll be able to see me, no problem.” You giggled at his reaction, which was him quickly turning around with eyebrows raised and an amused smile on his face. “And I have a very cute outfit planned.” You added, which only made him smile more. 

“Can you come say hi to us before the show? The boys would love to see you.” He asks happily, clearly excited at this new development. 

“I’ll see if I can sneak my way in.” You wink, laughing. He gave you a kiss on the cheek before heading out the door to meet his driver. 

You put on your outfit: a black crop top with a hot pink harness, a black leather mini skirt, and some black knee high platform boots. You did some hella cute makeup and did your hair, making sure to wear your Stray Kids headband you had ordered, since everyone needed to know who you were there for. Once you were ready, you made your way to the venue, all access badge around your neck. You wandered into the back, stopping one of your staff members to ask them where Stray Kids' green room was. Once you got there, you knocked on the door three times before opening the door. You were greeted by a chorus of “NOONA!!”s, which made your heart very happy. Felix ran over and hugged you tight. 

“Noona, you look so pretty! I didn’t know you were coming!” He was so excited to see you, his smile was so wide. You sat down with Han, pestering him as he was trying to play a game on his phone. Only Felix, Han, I.N, and Seungmin were in the room at the moment. After Han finally gave up, you decided to chat with Seungmin. They were all sat on one couch, chatting about this and that. Seungmin saw your headband and decided to tease you about it, saying “You must really like us, Noona.” to which you agreed. 

“Where's the rest of your group?” You asked, confused. 

“Oh, they’re still getting ready. Hair, makeup, outfit. All that fun stuff.” Han informed, once again distracted by something on his phone. After sitting and hanging out, the other boys finally came back. 

“Bestie! You’re here!” Hyunjin exclaimed excitedly running over and hugging you. 

“You look so pretty.” You gushed, looking at his outfit. He laughed and nodded. 

“You do too. I guess we’re two pretty best friends.” He joked and then both of you cringed while laughing. 

“Ah, our y/n is here.” Leeknow commented as he walked in, a small smile resting on his face. You greeted him happily, to which he gave you a small bow and then found a spot to relax before their performance. Next was Bangchan, who was happy to see you and gave you a hug. 

“Changbinnie will be here soon.” He teased, winking at you. You felt your cheeks flush and tried to laugh it off. You couldn’t bring yourself to make eye contact with anyone, suddenly taking an interest in their fridge. 

“Old habits die hard.” You joked, straightening all the labels and pulling things forward in an effort to hide how nervous you are. Thankfully, the others didn’t seem to pick up on it, even though Chan kept trying to tease you. Changbin entered the room and instantly came over and wrapped you in his arms. 

“My baby is here!” He cheered, loud enough for everyone to hear. Your face flushed and you looked at him with wide eyes. “What?” He asked, confused with your reaction. You nodded your head towards the boys, who were looking at the two of you with intrigued expressions. “Oh, right.” He nodded and then turned towards them. “y/n and I are dating now.” He informed them, smiling widely. You didn’t think your face could feel any hotter, your hands coming up to shield yourself from the embarrassment. 

“Ah, so that’s where you were last night, Seo Changbin!” Leeknow pretended to scold, a mischievous smile on his face. You were so embarrassed, the boys laughing and heckling the two of you, that you were extremely relieved to see one of your staff members enter. 

“Miss y/n, I was asked to escort you to your seat so the artists can get ready for the show.” You nodded, jumping at the opportunity to leave the room. Changbin stopped you, pouting. His lip was jutted out as he pointed to his cheek. 

“Kiss please. For luck.” You could feel everyone's eyes on you, the embarrassment becoming almost too much. You rolled your eyes and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, which made the boys all scream. You quickly headed towards the door, turning once to give a weak 

“Stray Kids, fighting!” before rushing out the door. 

The entire show was great, the boys all making a point to come over and wave at you at one point or another. Changbin was extra, of course, blowing kisses to you every chance he had. The girls behind you were losing their minds, thinking it was for them. You smiled, happy that they were happy. But you also felt smug, knowing that you had him wrapped around your finger. You were excited for what the future would hold with him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

thanks for reading! hope you love it!

[boydiisaster]

sleepy demons bros: part 1 of 2

reader: *implied* male, but no specified pronouns or gender identity

tw/cw: none that i know of! :)

author's note/summary: i'm just so soft for them, and i just wanted to write only about how mams cuddles you, but then it evolved into this

lucifer

As much as I want to say little spoon, I think having you hold him close to your chest and whispering sweet nothings into his ear would embarrass him far too much to do that.

However if you insisted....

He loves cuddling you most after a long day working. He'll collapse onto your shared bed, wrapping an arm around you and burying his face in your neck.

"Long day, love?" you'd reply, sleep slurring your words.

Lucifer would simply grunt as he held you closer, letting himself drift off, your scent and your gentle breathing lulling him to sleep.

When Lucifer has free time, he most always insisted that the two of you cuddle on the loveseat in his study. Well, insisted implies that he was blunt with his advances. In reality, the poor man was so flustered, cheeks red and eyes not ever daring to meet yours.

"Lucifer?" you asked the first time he invited you to his study. "I thought you valued your time alone. Why do you want me here?"

"Because I enjoy your company."

Is what he wanted to say. But his pride got the better of him and he simply lied about him missing a pen.

"If you find it, please let me know."

He kept inviting you over until he finally got the courage to ask you to stay. You happily did so. It took him another month for the cuddling to ensue, and he wasn't even the one who made the first move: you did.

Overall, Lucifer really loves cuddling and sleeping with you. He's just too prideful to admit it.

mammon

Mammon gets cold easily, so he always has a ton of extra fuzzy blankets on his bed.

Maybe if he didn't sleep in just his boxers and a hoodie of yours he'd stay warmer.

Yes, Mammon and you are the cliché couple that shares hoodies with each other. What about it?

If you're plus sized, Mammon will still share his hoodies with you, except he'll just buy his hoodies in your size instead of his own, and share them. A little size difference isn't gonna stop the Great Mammon. You should know this by now, MC.

When you cuddle with him in his bed, you always sleep the exact same: in one of his jackets or shirts with only your undergarments on. It flusters the poor man to no end to see you in your underwear, chest exposed as one of his button up shirts clings to your shoulders. But your skin is so soft against his when you cuddle, and you look so peaceful laying on his chest that he gets over his embarrassment rather quickly.

When he's little spoon, (which is often), you always play with his hair. Run your fingers through it, twirl it around your fingers, brush his bangs away from his forehead.

Mammon especially loves when you do that, because that usually means you're about to give him a forehead kiss.

Mammon loves forehead kisses, please give him lots of those.

Mammon also has lots and lots of pillows, no I will not be taking criticism at this time.

He loves sleeping in your bed, don't get him wrong. It smells like you, and sometimes when you're away he'll just curl up under your blanket and pretend that you're there with him.

He's incredibly clingy, don't be mean-

But your bed isn't as big as his, so it can't fit as many pillows and blankets as he wants! So the two of you almost always cuddle in his room.

Overall, Mammon is just a cuddle bug who needs most, if not all of your attention.

leviathan

He doesn't want to admit it, but he's just as clingy as Mammon is.

He also has a lot of pillows and blankets. Not because he gets cold easily, but because he just likes feeling the warmth of something around him.

That, and he also gets cold easily.

Plushies. This man has so many plushies. Plushies from TSL, plushies from his favorite animes, countless numbers of Ruri-Chan plushies. But the only plushie that he sleeps with is the matching Henry and Lord of Shadow plushies that you bought you and him on Valentines Day.

Yes, Levi did in fact cry when you showed him.

Whenever you come over to watch anime with him, you'll always bring your Lord of Shadows plushie, that way he and Henry can be together while you and Levi are, as well.

Levi also cried about that. It was just so cute and considerate of you to do that, okay???

When the two of you cuddle before bed, Levi prefers little spoon.

If that's okay with you, if it's not he'll be big spoon he promises-

You'll wrap the two of you up in Levi's hoard of blankets, cuddling him close inside of his bathtub bed while your Henry and Lord of Shadow plushies rest beside you. Next to each other as well, duh.

He'll usually lay on top of you, straddling your waist with his arms around your neck. Basically, he resembles a baby sloth hanging off its parent. This position makes it easy for you to rub circles into his hips with your thumbs, which he absolutely adores, please do not ever stop-

I like to headcanon that Levi is a little chubby, just enough to where his tummy is squishy and he has small love handles. You'll always place your hands on his love handles and just tell him how nice and cuddly he is.

Levi gets embarrassed all the time by that, but please don't ever stop doing it. He loves it, I promise.

satan

There is no way that you can convince me that this man is not a cuddler. He loves cats. He's definitely a cuddler because he cuddles them all the time. Which means he's almost always big spoon with you. Though he does love laying his head against your bare chest from time to time while the two of you snuggle in his room.

Cuddles by a fire? On a loveseat? With a big fuzzy blanket? After drinking tea and reading? On a cold, rainy night where the wind is howling and the sounds of raindrops can be heard hitting the roof?

Hell. Yes. This man is in heaven.

Not the best analogy for a demon, but you get the point.

Before bed, he always likes to drink warm cups of tea. He'll always offer to fix you a cup, as well.

Prefers sleeping in his room, just because there's a huge window by his bed, and he loves staring up at the night sky as he nods off, but your room is good, too!

Whether he's big spoon or little spoon, please always play with his hair. He loves it when you play with his hair. Run your fingers through it, brush stray strands away from his forehead, please just play with this man's hair.

After long days of studying or reading, Satan will just curl up beside you, whether you're in your own room or his, and just bury his face into your back as his legs entangle with your own. His arms will wrap around your waist, and he'll just start placing kisses all over your backside, leading up to your shoulders, your neck, and then your cheek.

"I missed you," he murmurs, nuzzling his face against your neck, almost like a cat.

You giggle, rolling over to pet his head.

"I missed you too, Satan."

He beams at that.

[aquaaquila]

Here joining the conversation that happens in the comments:

To each your own when it comes to the ships. Huntlow is cute and fine and realistically the best choice for both characters to end with romance as they complement each other well. It's also not often you see implied bi4pan, plus-sized girl x the most beloved guy of the fandom going this strong. I'm not going to spoil the ship any further but worry not, it won't take over their characters in The story, but further develop.

The fan base is problematic though. I'm in fact one of the original Huntlow shippers and I've seen this ship develop right before my eyes. Back in a day when it was a crackship, it was so wholesome and you could see nothing but positives about this ship. Imagine the joy when it would turn out to be within the canon. The joy didn't last long though as obnoxious Lumity shippers showed up and killed the original soul of the ship by doing the same thing they did to Lumity which was lowkey ableist.

What happens is that they took neurodivergent characters (Luz, Hunter) and both dumbed them down to a ridiculous level (in Lumity's case it was essentially heteronormativity that turned Luz into your typical himbo; in Hunter's case it was infantilisation because god forbid a guy actually shows weakness and thus completely ignores any actual power they have, more about Hunter later) while watering down the girlfriends (Willow, Amity) into brutes. It's essentially the "she's everything, he's just Ken".

I myself also stopped following Huntlow's tag after it also became flooded with sibling enjoyers butting in and devoiding any individuality Huntlow has by making it another Lumity and how much of siblings Luz and Hunter must be to have the same type. Ugh! The appeal behind Huntlow is the potential, what drags it down are obnoxious fans.

Now about Hunter: look, I love Hunter, you could say I'm his stan or whatever, but I have a special place in my heart for him. Thanks to him I went from Bi-curious to Bi-certain, and it's for a good reason. There are plenty of great things about Hunter. Sure he's not Luz and he's not the protagonist of this show, but other than King he's like one of the most important male characters (excluding Belis as he's the antagonist) due to how much potential, promise, and importance he has to the plot by being linked to the main villain. And the promise and potential I'm talking about is about him being good protagonist material.

I keep manifesting that if we ever get a spin-off for TOH, other than Eda's gory days, Hunter should take a lead (as Luz told her story flawlessly already and flash forward to new generation is pointless when there are so many loose ends within the present) as he at least to me is the best candidate for that. The story would be more or less about him healing from the abuse he went through along with the rest of the Isles, which is thematic, and Hunter's episodes often not only help flesh him out but other characters as wellwhen they're interacting with him. Hunter pushes others to grow while growing himself, and he has big level of empathy making him connect to others pretty easy which works in stories. He also has a drive and so many story ideas tied around him and by the end of the show he's probably the most of an open-book character. Of course he's not Luz, but he can pull off his own story.

(I didn't pick Amity as while she's great, over time she will grow a tendency to be a bit of the satellite to Luz's character mostly because of how much of her time she gives to Luz. Her being MC wouldn't change it; though Hunter being MC (or honestly anyone but her or Luz) can change it as now Amity would have to interact with him more often to stay relevant instead of only being Luz's awesome girlfriend and those two have the potential as great foils and Amity being the only one who can relate to Hunter on a deeper level, which is funny considering Hunter can relate to everyone one way or another through his sheer trauma)

Now I don't know much about Steve so I can't speak regarding this matter, but I guess what I will say next will be familiar to you. This fan base wasn't ready for Hunter, nor actually deserved him. Everyone lost his mind over him yet I feel like there's almost nobody that actually knows him. There are really only a few people who can see through his flanderisation within the fan base, and it's certainly not comforting that the biggest number of those people happen to be Lunter shippers 😐😑 Hunter is probably the biggest offense when it comes to mischaracterisstion in the fan base that is borderline toxic and pretty much exposes everything wrong with the fan base from internalised biases to lack of media literacy. Everyone got so invested in woobifying Hunter that they forgot Hunter while has tons of potential for stories of his own, is not in fact a blank character. He's not a background extra who can be whatever, he already has established capabilities and personality that are nothing like the one fan base gives him and it pisses me off as there's essentially a lack of good Hunter content that doesn't feel like forced propaganda with an OC wearing Hunter as a flesh mask. And people really shift the focus of the story onto him instead of following Luz. Luz already got her limelight in the fan base stolen by her white girlfriend and now said white girlfriend lost it to the white guy, and said the white guy is to being done dirty for this. Heck, his obnoxious fans even rewrite other characters to fit their vision, how Amity is jealous of Yandere because of him and hates him with a burning passion (that is not the case, even if he stole the key)

okay im assuming this is The Ship

[renjuseyo]

if ur requests are open can i pls request Jaehyun x male reader where the reader is so drunk that he forgot that his boyfriend(jaehyun) is his boyfriend. then he asks a member if he is taken and they said yes and that will make reader to silently be sad in the corner and jaehyun asks if readers ready to go home......... andddddddd ill leaveee the rest to u hehehehe (iloveurwriting so much)

tipsy ; jaehyun

group: nct

pairing: jung yoonoh / reader (male)

synopsis: both you and jaehyun knew how much of a lightweight you were, but when has that ever stopped you?

genre: fluff, crack

warnings: implied sexual content, explicit language

i lost inspiration for this, so i hope this mess of a fic is okay anon! as always, feedback is appreciated!!

when you peek through the peephole, you expect to see the delivery man holding the package you had ordered online. instead, you’re pleasantly surprised to see your boyfriend on the other side of the door, wrapped in a hoodie, mask, and tinted sunglasses. his disguise is pretty unnecessary given how your neighbors are mainly made up of old people who have never heard of nct, but it gets the job done.

once you’ve unhooked the chain bolt, you unlock the door and swing it open. he slightly jumps at the noise, but visibly softens when he sees you. “hey (name),” he greets, slipping off his mask and sunglasses.

“hey yourself. what are you doing here?” you ask. with how hectic his schedule has been after promotions with the nct 2020 project and working as an mc on inkigayo, you two hadn’t seen each other in weeks. though you missed him, you sympathized with the tireless hours he spent working as an idol. at least you preoccupied yourself with netflix.

he slips off his sneakers and enters your home, taking off the rest of his disguise. you close and lock the door behind you, trailing behind him. “i managed to squeak in some free time today, so i came to visit you,” he explains. he faces you with a smile, pulling you close. you subconsciously lean your head onto his shoulder, humming as he sways your bodies.

“i missed you,” you tell him, fingers ghosting his waist. he makes a noise of agreement, resting his chin on your head.

you eventually pull away, eliciting a grumble from jaehyun. contrary to popular belief, he was the clingy one of you two, always using the excuse of “you’re just the perfect size for cuddling.” “stop grumbling, jae. you’ve come so far, so it’s only fair i make you something to eat,” you tell him, making your way towards the kitchen.

he follows suit, hand grabbing at the hood of your hoodie. you stop in front of the refrigerator and open it, canvassing the food you have in there. as you debate what to make for lunch, he rests his chin on your shoulder and snakes both arms around your waist. you roll your eyes, though you don’t make any movements to pry his arms off. “i can always eat something else,” he smirks.

you realize too late the implications of his comment, absentmindedly sorting through the bags of vegetables in your fridge. “do you want takeout instead then? mrs. moon from two doors down said that there’s this really good pho house near here.”

he nuzzles into your shoulder. “i’d really like to eat you,” he says as nonchalantly as one can, considering his implications. you nearly drop a bag of spinach, spluttering incoherent words as you spin around to swat his shoulder. he laughs, loud and proud, a stark contrast from the quiet, polite laugh he’s practiced.

“you’re the worst,” you hiss, reluctantly closing the fridge. he pecks your cheek, eliciting a disgusted screech from you. he leans back with a laugh before attacking your face with kisses. you shut your eyes as you try to wiggle out of his grasp. but jaehyun’s been working out, evident from his arms, and he’s always had an intense grip. when he leans away, satisfied, you flick his forehead. with how clingy jaehyun’s being, making lunch isn’t an option anymore. “i hate you.”

jaehyun eventually relinquishes his attacks, threading his fingers with yours. “you’re usually not this clingy, jae. actually, now that i think about it, you don’t flirt all too much either, much less suggest sexual innuendos. what’s the occasion?” you ask as he walks you two to your living room. he doesn’t immediately respond, flopping down onto the couch and dragging you along with him. you land on his chest with an oomph, your cheek squished against his chest.

he combs his fingers through your hair, smiling as you make a noise of approval. “well, i wasn’t going to say anything before the news outlet, but...” his smile only widens when he sees you look up at him with curious eyes; he nearly coos at how innocent you look. “a certain idol you know might make his acting debut soon~”

your eyes widen, and you quickly prop yourself up with your elbows. “what! no way!” you exclaim, jaw hanging open. jaehyun laughs at your shell-shocked reaction, though it’s a given; when you were in a mood to vent, he would always take your hand and pepper your knuckles with butterfly kisses as you ranted about how he deserved better and shouldn’t only be seen as a visual, whining about how sm failed to show his talents as a singer and an actor. well, those days are over now, he supposes.

“yes way, love. are you excited?” he isn’t sure why he asked that question, considering how shell-shocked you already look. plus, the squeal that leaves your throat and the way you throw yourself onto him is answer enough already.

“do you even have to ask? you used to send me videos of you acting out different roles because you wanted to try acting, and you always did them so well! i’m really proud of you, jae. you deserve it.”

“i’m really glad you think so, (name). do you want to hear-”

“no!” you interrupt, slapping both of your palms on his mouth. he tilts his head in confusion, surprised by your sudden outburst. “knowing you, you’re going to accidentally tell me everything, and then i’m going to know the whole story line before the show even airs!”

he’s about to refute your claims, but he can’t really considering how you’ve layered both of your palms on his mouth. plus, judging by the look you give him, he’s certain he’s going to be eating his own words sooner or later. with a sigh, he peels your palms off. "you’re no fun. can i not even tell you the name and the basic plot?”

“i’m sorry for wanting to give you ratings,” you snort. “and no. then i’ll be waiting in anticipation and will force you to tell me everything, even if you tell me you can’t because i told you before not to say anything. you can’t even give me a drop of information.” well, jaehyun supposes that is true. you’ve always been enticed by television shows; he’s personally seen you react to cliffhangers a show gives before it ultimately gets cancelled. needless to say, it isn’t a pretty sight. “this calls for celebration! we can invite the boys too... do you want it to be extravagant, or are we keeping it low key?” you ask, sitting up and reaching for your phone.

“what happened to just you and me?” jaehyun asks, batting his eyelashes with feigned innocence. “i can think of a lot more fun things we can do.”

you don’t even bat an eye; unlike earlier, you were prepared for this kind of comment. “shoving my foot up your ass sounds really fun, but unfortunately that won’t get me any food. the boys probably already knew before i did, so you’ve probably already celebrated with them... i guess we can keep it simple.”

“i’d take your foot any day,” he fires back with a heavily exaggerated moan, to which you respond with a slap on the arm.

“i’m telling johnny to bring over beer.” you’re texting a group chat with you and the other 127 members. you’re only dating jaehyun, yet sometimes it feels like you’re dating all of them with how close you are. plus, gossiping with jungwoo about your boyfriend is always fun. with him being his roommate, you both often share similar struggles.

he rolls his eyes, stretching over to wrap his arms around your waist. he peers over your shoulder to look at your screen. “please, (name). you’re the lightest lightweight i’ve ever met. who are you telling to bring over drinks? you’re like a baby.”

“fuck you.”

“i think it’s the other way around, but i’d gladly let you order me around~” he flirts.

you shove a pillow in his face as you fire off a text.

after ordering pizza, tteokbokki, and fried chicken, your dinner is nearly complete. the boys were coming over soon, with johnny being in charge of drinks, jungwoo in charge of takeout, and donghyuck in charge of entertainment. you had a nintendo switch jaehyun had gifted you two years ago, and you intended on making full use of it tonight.

(plus, you have yet to beat yuta at super smash bros. today is going to be that day.)

you had finished clearing the table for the food before you notice jaehyun’s sleeping frame on the couch. you’re about to walk over and reprimand him for being unproductive, but seeing how tired and peaceful he looks stops you. instead, you grab a blanket from your room and drape it over him.

you’re about to walk away and grab water bottles for everyone when you feel something tugging your hand. craning your neck, you smile at jaehyun’s hooded eyes laced with sleep. “c’mere,” he murmurs.

water bottles can wait, then. you pat jaehyun’s side, and he scoots over to allow room for you. as you slot yourself in his arm, spreading a leg across his, he makes a noise of satisfaction, eyes fluttering close. “someone’s tired,” you observe, pushing the mop of black bangs obscuring his eyes. “did practice run late?”

he avoids your gaze. “no, i spent the night playing uno with johnny, ten, and mark,” he admits.

you laugh. “must have been intense. i bet you were so burnt out from uno,” you sympathize with sarcasm. “but in general, don’t overexert yourself, okay? i know you’ve been busy, but you need to remember to take care of yourself.”

jaehyun nods, but a yawn rips out of his chest. you give him a knowing look, one that reads what did i say? which causes him to laugh. “yes sir,” he lazily responds.

“as tired as you may be, don’t go falling asleep on me now. the others are going to be here soon. what would they think, the guest of honor asleep at his own party?” you chuckle, leaning down to press a chaste kiss on his forehead.

he beams at the gesture. “give me more kisses and i’ll think about it,” he coaxes.

usually you don’t give in to his bratty demands, but seeing how tired he is reminds you of the accomplishments he’s achieved in the past year. a kiss is the least you could down. you lean down, breath fanning his lips, and he closes his eyes in contentment.

a few seconds pass, but the kiss never comes. when jaehyun opens his eyes, he’s surprised to see you’re no longer by his side, instead standing by the door. “that’s one way of telling a guy to come and get it,” he sighs, sitting up. he wearily rubs his eyes, blurry eyes watching you.

“sorry jae, taeil-hyung just texted saying they’re here,” you apologize. he sighs, eventually standing up after a few moments of stretching.

just as you had said, knocks resonate throughout your home, signalling their arrival. you peek through the peephole to verify their identities and sure enough, all nine other members stand outside, arms loaded. you undo the chain lock and swing the door open, greeting everyone.

“thanks for having us,” taeyong smiles, stepping into your home. everyone else echoes his message, but it comes out mumbled, like they hadn’t thought of saying anything until taeyong. the power a leader has, you suppose.

“no problem. here, let me grab some of the food.” you scurry over to jungwoo and mark, whose arms were loaded with the takeout you ordered.

as you grab a box of pizza from mark, johnny slaps you on the back. you nearly lurch forward and drop the pizza; if you had, johnny would be first on your hit list. “so jaehyun finally told you?” he asks with a grin.

“thank god. he spent days talking about ways to tell you, knowing how excited you’d be,” sicheng snorts, slipping off his shoes.

you laugh, especially when you see jaehyun spluttering in embarrassment. “you could’ve fooled me. all he did was waltz in and drop the news after he nearly fell asleep. made me feel like a proud parent and everything.”

“you may feel like one now, but wait until you watch him act. just going to be lots of cringing and teasing,” doyoung sneers, elbowing his shoulder.

yuta rolls his eyes. “like you’re one to talk, mr. lead actor.”

your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets. “lead actor?!” doyoung laughs, answering your question. “good for you, hyung!”

jaehyun narrows his eyes. “why do you look more amazed at his news than mine?!”

i’m not a lightweight, you told yourself. i can handle whatever yuta throws at me, you told yourself.

you were sorely mistaken.

jaehyun notices this too, seeing you sway in your seat. he chuckles at the sight; you were never able to hold your liquor, and when you got drunk, you were quite the spontaneous drinker to deal with. one time you had drank so much that you cried over cute things, like when sicheng showed you a picture of his dogs. or the one time you were a man on a mission, flirting with all of the members. needless to say, that led to a very interested jaemin and a very pouty jaehyun.

you had initially planned on just sticking to soda, but yuta had wanted to make things more interesting and challenged you to a game of super smash bros. each time the loser lost, they would have to down a can of beer. despite your inability to hold your liquor, it activated your competitive nature. but of course, yuta is crazy good at any games he suggests, completely demolishing you with lucina. no matter which character you chose, you were just no match against him.

after several fruitless attempts, you’re seated between taeil and sicheng, who seem way too interested in the tteokbokki to notice your behavior. everyone else seems occupied, too; johnny, yuta, jungwoo, and donghyuck are playing mario kart 8, taeyong and mark are immersed in yet another one of their deep, contemplative conversations, and doyoung’s watching the whole scene unfold, supervising everyone (probably to ensure nothing ends up in flames). on the other hand, jaehyun’s sitting on your sofa, alternating between watching the four men in front of your television screaming and you in your tipsy state. he decides to stick with the latter.

eventually you lift your eyes up and make eye contact with jaehyun, who responds with a wink. seeing you flush and look away has his chest swelling with giddiness; you’re just too cute sometimes. the table isn’t far from the sofa, so he can hear any conversation that goes on there. he watches as you take another sip of your can, eyes shifting back and forth from the television and to him. you stare at him for a bit longer, eyes canvassing his face, his posture, his thoughts.

it seems sicheng notices your staring, sitting back down and nudging your shoulder. “what’s so interesting that it’s gotten your attention?” he asks, purposefully raising his voice so jaehyun can hear.

you flush at how loud he is, lazily putting a finger to your lips. “shhh, i’m staring at the pretty boy there.” you point your chin towards jaehyun, who pretends to not see. you’ve never been subtle when you were drunk, but telling you that would just lead to you loudly slurring your arguments. “do you know if he’s dating anyone?”

jaehyun nearly spits out his beer. of all the times you’ve gotten drunk, you’ve never once forgotten that you were his boyfriend - if anything, you were all too eager to prove just how much you belonged to him. he’s not sure whether to feel startled or amused.

sicheng chooses the latter, a smirk forming. “yeah, he has a boyfriend,” he tells you. jaehyun hopes you’ll realize that you’re the boyfriend in question, but seeing how you deflate like a balloon, he guesses not. he questions how much you’ve had to drink.

you slide off of your chair, pouting. “of course a guy as attractive as him has a boyfriend. i’m not surprised,” you grumble, crossing your arms. jaehyun can’t help the amused smirk that makes its way on his face. watching you envy yourself for being his boyfriend is very amusing.

sicheng must feel the same, stifling his laughter. “don’t look so bitter, (name). his boyfriend’s a good guy.”

you pout, crossing your arms. “well, i bet i can treat him ten times better! pretty boy there doesn’t know what he’s missing out on,” you boast, standing up.

sicheng can only watch in amusement as you stagger towards the kitchen. if only you knew how strange that statement was. “if you’re so confident about that, then what are you doing? planning on hiding in the kitchen to wallow on your sorrows?” he teases.

“i’m not!” you protest. “i’m just going to get some water because i’m dizzy as fuck and possibly cry about how single i am.” you mumble the last part, though because sicheng has uncanny hearing, he probably heard, if the smirk on his lips is anything to go by.

jaehyun decides it’s time to intercept, because as amusing as things were, he hoped you weren’t actually going to cry about being single, especially since you had no reason to. he stops by the dining table where taeil and sicheng are. “so i heard you and (name) were talking about me.”

sicheng snorts, rolling his eyes. “just because we said pretty boys doesn’t mean we were talking about you.”

though unaware of the topic, taeil leans in, chewing on a mouthful of pizza. “yeah, for all we know, he could be talking about me!” he chirps. he’s met with an annoyed glare from sicheng (though both of them can see him stifling his laughter), which he responds with an air kiss. typical taeil.

“well, i’m going to check up on him. i’ll leave you two lovebirds alone for now,” he teases. taeil looks a little too happy at the joke, whereas sicheng threatens to stab him with a fork. it’s amusing watching their reactions, considering how everyone around them already knows that they’re dating. those two just haven’t admitted anything yet.

he follows you into the kitchen, though you don’t seem to notice, too busy pouring yourself a glass of cold water.  “(name),” he greets.

you jump in surprise, nearly spilling water on yourself. when you turn to face jaehyun, your confident nature immediately disappears, quickly replaced with one of bashfulness. “you know me?” you ask, in awe of how said pretty boy could possibly recognize you.

if only you knew just how well he knew you, he thinks to himself. instead, he decides to play along; you’re obviously too drunk to realize how silly this seems. “i do,” he hums, patting your shoulder. he isn’t sure if your red cheeks are from the alcohol or him, though he hopes for the latter. he never gets less prideful when you get all shy because of him.

hoping to maintain the confident facade you had earlier, you quickly clear your throat, looking away. “how can i help you?” you ask, taking a sip of your water.

“well, i was hoping if we could talk in a more... private area?” he asks.

you nearly spit out your water, eyes the size of saucers. he has to stop himself from laughing, afraid the drunk you would get the wrong impression. “just to talk, that’s all. it’s kind of loud here, don’t you think?���

the screams from the living room (which are mainly from johnny and donghyuck and the occasional ones of distress from taeyong) and the volume of the television are evidence enough, so you nod in agreement. “yeah, sure.”

“perfect. let’s go then~” jaehyun laces your fingers together before you can say anything, and your ears are practically fuming with smoke. you’re too distracted by his touch to question how he knows where your bedroom is. when you both enter your room, he flops down on your bed, patting the empty spot beside him. at this, you gasp, scandalized and very flustered. he chuckles at how shy you’ve gotten, shaking his head. “my my (name), get your head out of the gutter. we’re not going to do anything... unless you want to,” he flirts.

jaehyun never tries to take advantage of you, especially when you’re not sober. but when the sober you would throw pillows (or anything that wouldn’t actually hurt him) at him for flirting with you, the drunk you would always fire back with equally flirty remarks, or the shy you would just splutter in embarrassment. he can’t help it, spewing sweet nothings to you - you’re just too fun to mess with for him to not to, especially when you’re drunk.

reluctantly you place your water on your bedside table and lower yourself beside him, heart thumping erratically. he chuckles at how timid you are, a stark contrast from the snarky (name) that he knows so well. he turns to face you, both of your faces only centimetres apart. the smell of alcohol lingers on both of you, though it isn’t as prominent on him as it is on you. he makes a mental note to ask yuta how much you’ve had.

you squeak at how close you two are, hands flying to cover your face. “you have a boyfriend,” you whisper. you’re undeniably flustered, but you would rather die than be known as a homewrecker!

his laugh startles you, even more so when he presses a hand to the small of your back. you look like you’ve committed a heinous crime, potentially causing an attractive man like jaehyun to cheat on his boyfriend. the statement is so abusrd though, considering how you’re the boyfriend in question. “i do, you are right. he won’t be mad at me, though,” he hums, leaning in so close your noses would touch if it weren’t for the makeshift barrier you’ve made from your hands. you flush red in embarrassment, hiding your eyes behind your hands. if you make eye contact with him, you’re sure you’re going to melt into a puddle.

“even if he didn’t mind, i don’t think we should be doing this. i know i wouldn’t be happy if my boyfriend did this,” you whisper.

jaehyun sure is having a field day with this. you’re too flustered and worried to notice the pure look of adoration he’s giving you. “call it a hunch,” he says. “i promise you, he won’t be mad at this.”

“why?”

“you’ll find out tomorrow.” he pauses as a yawn rips out of his chest. “i’m really tired, so i’m going to sleep. the boys probably won’t quiet down on my account, anyways. you can always go back to them if you want, though,” he offers. a small part of him hopes for you to stay and cuddle with him, but judging how you’re so sure he has a boyfriend who would be absolutely devastated for literally sleeping with another man and how you have no knowledge of where you stand, he wouldn’t be surprised if you left.

what does surprise him, though, is when you stay rooted in your spot on the bed. “i’m tired, too,” you say.

jaehyun smiles so sweetly, the one that has his eyes dripping with honey, that your hands fly up to cover your face again. his boyfriend must be lucky to see that sight all of the time, you bitterly think to yourself. still, even if you’re not sure why he’s flirting with you or where you stand, you decide to savor every moment that you get to spend with him. even if you don’t really know who pretty boy is, he’s sweet and kind. plus, only a fool would cover their eyes when someone as beautiful as him lays before you.

he moves an arm to pat your thigh when he freezes in midair, remembering how he’s supposed to have a boyfriend to stay loyal to (even though he’s right in front of him). he retracts his arm and instead pulls your blanket to cover your lower bodies. “goodnight, (name),” he hums, shutting his eyes.

before jaehyun can begin the long process of trying to fall asleep, he feels you tug at his t-shirt. cracking an eye open, he sees you laying before him, staring at him with curious eyes and red cheeks. oh no, now he’s really tempted to kiss you. you’re impossibly adorable, seeing how vulnerable and curious you are. “yes?” he hums, trying to stay awake. the effects from last night’s uno matches have really begin to take a toll on him.

“i don’t think i’ve gotten the chance to ask, but may i know your name?” you ask.

jaehyun chuckles. he’s flirted with you and is even sleeping in the same bed as you, yet he’s forgotten the basic courtesy that is introductions. he didn’t think he would’ve needed it, considering how you’re his boyfriend. but then again, you’ve forgotten that you are his boyfriend. “my name’s yoonoh, but you can call me jaehyun or jae.”

no one actually calls him jae except for you. it’s a short and simple nickname that you have for him, nothing endearing. but because it’s something that only you call him, even though there isn’t a meaning to it, he’s grown fond of the way it sounds leaving your lips. which is why hearing it from anyone that isn’t you only leaves a weird taste on his tongue.

you’re so drunk you don’t even remember jaehyun, nor who he is to you, so it isn’t surprising that you stick with jaehyun instead. he doesn’t mind though, because he knows when you’re sober again he’ll hear you calling him jae and cuddling into him and doing all of the coupley things he wasn’t able to do tonight.

wow, jaehyun really is a lovesick fool. it’s only been one night of not being able to cuddle or kiss you, but he feels like he’s missed a whole eternity of them. he really isn’t sure how he’s lived before you came into his life.

for an hour, you pester jaehyun on how you two became acquainted and who you were to him. he indulged you, of course, purposefully skipping over the part of you becoming boyfriends and doing things that friends definitely didn’t do. his stories seem to be an effective way of getting you to sleep, because in the middle of a story of how a pair of swapped backpacks led to your relationship, you’re lulled to sleep, tired hands clutching onto his t-shirt.

he can only chuckle, leaning down to press a kiss on your nose. you’ll sure be in for a storm when you sober up tomorrow morning.

your jaw drops as you stare at the video on doyoung’s phone. it’s of you and sicheng, and right now you can only watch in horror as you pester him for information on the pretty boy you were so interested in last night. you have no recollection of last night’s events, though watching the video makes you glad you don’t. the problem is, the boys were there to witness them, even recording evidence of it on their phones. you’ve already seen pictures that johnny and taeyong have taken from when you and jaehyun were cuddling in your bed.

“please tell me that isn’t me,” you whisper, utterly mortified.

mark pats your shoulder in sympathy. “that’s you, all right.”

at his confirmation, you groan, burying your face in your hands. doyoung and donghyuck are cackling at your demise, with sicheng reciting your complaints word from word to a very amused johnny and yuta.

“...and then he was like well, i bet i can treat him ten times better! pretty boy there doesn’t know what he’s missing out on,” sicheng mimics, purposefully raising his voice an octave higher as he mocks you. out of embarrassment, you reach for a pillow on your couch and fling it at him. unlike jaehyun, he’s very good at dodging, proven when he ducks. instead, the pillow smacks yuta square in the face. he throws it back at you with even more force.

you duck, the pillow smacking an unsuspecting jaehyun. he really is horrible at dodging things - how shameful. “what the hell was that for?” he splutters, picking it up from the floor.

you turn to face him, eyebrows furrowed with annoyance. “you watched me make an utter fool out of myself, and you didn’t once try to do anything about it?” you hiss.

jaehyun frowns in confusion until doyoung dangles his phone in front of his face. when he watches the video, his face eventually contorts to one of amusement. “oh, that.”

your face is red with embarrassment. “yeah, that! like seriously? where is your loyalty? do you not care about my well being? you know how vicious these monsters can be!” you whine, gesturing at the said nine monsters behind you.

he nonchalantly shrugs, though you can see the corners of his lips threatening to curl into a smirk. “i do, but you were just too cute, seeing you all flustered. what about my own well being, huh? seeing you like that isn’t good for my heart,” he coos.

your heart leaps, but you mask it by smothering his face with a pillow. “you’re the worst,” you grumble.

“you act like you don’t like it, but i know you do~” he retaliates, albeit muffled from the pillow.

behind you two stands nine other boys, obviously unimpressed. watching you two engage in petty banter is always amusing, but not when it makes you flustered and encourages jaehyun to flirt with you like the cheesy, lovesick fool he is. “they’re so gross,” donghyuck gags.

johnny nods in agreement. “let’s get out of here before they start fucking on the counter.”

at johnny’s comment, you turn away from jaehyun so fast you swear you hear your neck crack. “do you have no filter?!” you shriek, exasperated.

with your guard down, jaehyun takes this as a chance to wrap his arms around your waist. a noise of surprise leaves your throat as he places his chin on your shoulder. “you’re so mean, (name). i liked the shy you a lot better~” he hums.

the other boys don’t even blink. “we’re going to leave now before things get bloody. good luck, (name),” taeyong says, saluting you.

jaehyun’s already tugging at the hem of your shirt and peppering your neck with kisses by the time the boys leave.

[year2000electronics]

pmtok rb?

favourite thing about them: DRAMA QUEEN i love the fact she kidnaps all the toads to watch her perform like are you kidding me. the other legion members are mostly about endless nightmare torment but rb is like [is implied to have even done rehearsals with mc toad]. like why do you even care rb i love you

least favourite thing about them: his battle gimmick is not my favourite

fanon pet peeve: this is such like. such a me thing btw. they’re literal office supplies people can do whatever they want. but to me if you don’t make rb fat you’ve missed the opportunity. give her at least a BIT of a dad bod. like to me his ‘humanoid’ silhouette esp when he puts his hands on his hips to look down at olivia reads as like! a fuller figure! and even her whole gimmick is this giant imposing figure! so i wanna see more plus sized rbs or even hell, like, SOMETHING that makes the silhouette larger bc that’s half the point!! (like me personally i went the route that rb is fat but also has a large puffy coat on top and like, multiple layers, to convey the idea of bands falling off without sacrificing the body type)

[zigtheeortega]

thieves in the shadows

part one | read on ao3

pairing | mal x mc [but other pairings could be implied]

word count | 6.5k

warnings | this is a crime au, so there are quite a few warnings. violence, blood, knives, guns, police, criticisms of religion etc. my mc is a detective in this series.

tags | @raleighcarrera, @pixeljazzy, @natesewell, @choicesarehard, @jaxmatsuo, @pantcmime 

author’s note | so for the last day of blades week, the lovely @pixelsandkink hosted a sleepover and one of the questions were “what type of au’s would you like to see?” and the idea of a crime au wormed its way into my brain and i haven’t been able to stop thinking about it! i tried to get the whole story done by epilogue day for @bladesappreciationweek but i only managed part one, so more’s to come – i really hope you like it !!! disclaimer: i had to make the names a bit more realistic since they’re human in this au, so tyril is ty, imtura is immy, and my mc zilyana is yana. another disclaimer: people hc imtura as black so she’s written as such in this fic!

•─────────────────•

bullets pelted the crates they were crouched behind, wood splintering in every direction. bodies were strewn across the warehouse, the unmistakable pools of blood streaking across the stone.

“raine! to your left!” immy yelled her way, barely sparing her a glance before unloading her clip, shell casings clinking against the ground.

the gun trembled in yana’s hands. she’d shot one before – practice at the gun range, glass bottles in a back alley – but never a live target.

before she could edge around the shield of crates to take her aim, the cold steel of the blade dug into the skin at the base of her throat.

“well, well,” the voice said. “you seem to be in a bit of a bind, detective nightbloom.”

––––

when she first got assigned to the case, she didn’t want anything to do with it. she was minding her business, just coming off of the high of the egovore case – she’d busted a druglord selling hallucinogenic laced opiates that’d killed a handful of teens in the area.

she turned the new case down initially, citing she needed a break, but in reality… she didn’t care to go undercover again. she’d been asked to do things she never wanted to do, like flirt with vicious criminals who could snap her in half without an ounce of remorse.

don’t get it twisted – she was meant to be a detective. it was in her blood.

but the things she was asked to do took a bit of a toll on her and she needed time to recuperate. she was exhausted, and quite frankly, wanted to be yana nightbloom for a couple of weeks before jumping into another identity.

however, when mayor valleros showed up to the station requesting to speak to her privately, she knew there was no getting out of it.

that night she curled up in bed, reviewing the sensitive case files as well as her new identity, hoping that she could wrap it up in a couple of months.

––––

the taxi dropped her off at the seedy motel on the outskirts of the city, just a couple blocks away from the auto shop.

she suited up in an outfit that “raine” would wear, tucking her gun into her belt, before making the trek.

the sun was low behind the old buildings, most of the strip abandoned or looted, graffiti covering nearly every inch of wall space. tents were scattered in empty lots, a handful of homeless people pushing their carts towards the tents as the last slivers of light dissipated.

all she knew about the area was that a man popped up a couple months prior, bought almost every plot, and set up shop.

he clearly bought the dying businesses so they would stay out of his way.

she’d memorized every inch of her file, committing her persona to memory as well as any details about this crew, which were surprisingly next to none.

mayor valleros couldn’t prove it, but he had a sneaking suspicion that the string of robberies targeting big businesses and millionaires was somehow connected to this rinky dink shop.

the garage was halfway open, the light coming from it trickling out onto the street. the trunk of an old convertible poked out, and she could hear the bass line of a soft rock song the closer she got.

the file she’d received was nearly bare – she was walking into the situation blind. from her knowledge, they were always open to recruits, but they turned away quite a lot of people. they had a serious vetting process and didn’t trust just anyone.

she probably had little to no chance of getting in, but she was gonna do her damnedest to earn their trust. 

when she approached the car, she took a slow cautious step inside, hand firmly on hip, ready to pull her gun out at a moment's notice.

a quick cock of a handgun pulled her attention south.

the man rolled to a stop from underneath the car, flat on his back against the scooter, brow quirked, the barrel of his gun pointed up at her.

“and who might you be?”

“i could be asking you the same thing,” she said, hand still on her hip.

“toss the gun over.”

she sighed, tugging it out from her waistband, squatting slowly to place it on the ground, skitting it towards him. she stood up slowly, hands in front of her in surrender.

he snatched the gun, before pushing himself up till he was standing. he slid her gun into his waistband with one hand, keeping his other trained on her.

“gimme the blade in your boot, too.”

she tried keeping her composure – she always kept a pocket knife on her but she nearly forgot it was there. how the hell did he know?

“fuck me,” she cursed under her breath. “if you insist,” he grinned, then motioned his hand towards himself. 

she dug it out of her shoe, tossing it over. “how could you tell?”

“lucky guess. didn’t really know if you had one,” he shrugged, pocketing the blade.

they stood in silence, sizing each other up. his eyes raked over her body, lingering on places she was glad she had covered in baggy clothing.

“so, you gonna tell me your name?”

“no.”

“have it your way, rando. you’re not getting past this garage unless you give me something. doesn’t bother me a bit.”

“you clearly seem bothered,” she muttered, shifting her weight to her other foot.

she probably shouldn’t have been so bold, but if he wanted to shoot her, he would’ve done it already.

“nope. i don’t have shit to do. i could do this all day,” he raised a single brow, the one with a slit shaved into it.

“raine,” she said, the one syllable begrudgingly making it past her lips.

“now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he cocked his head to the side.

“you’re not that smart if you think that’s anything more than my street name.”

“street name? what are you, a fed?” He laughed, motioning the barrel of the gun upwards. “show me your waist and back.” “didn’t know ty hired perverts as door greeters,” she rolled her eyes, tugging her shirt upwards, slowly rotating to show off her stomach and lower back, proving she wasn’t wearing a wire.

his brows furrowed as a loud, booming cackle sounded from the doorway.

“you’re just gonna let her talk to you like that, mal?” the tall woman laughed, crossing her arms when she came into view.

“why’d you just say my name like that? i had a whole thing going,” he all but groaned, running a hand over his face.

“eh, who gives a shit. not like she’s in a position to do much, anyway,” she shrugged, her biceps flexing with the motion. “plus, she clearly knows who ty is. she didn’t just waltz in here – armed, might i add – for nothing.”

“who sent you, raine?”

yana shook her head, already slipping into the new, abrasive personality, scrunching her face up in disgust. “i’m not telling you two bozos shit. bring me to ty.”

the woman closed the gap between them in a couple steps, towering over her. she was easily six foot (even taller if you counted the locs piled atop her head), tattoos riddling every exposed inch of her body, her menacing grin gleaming in the dim light. her hands fisted the fabric at yana’s neck, tugging her just high enough that the tips of her shoes brushed the concrete.

she leaned in, quirking a pierced brow. “bozos?”

yana’s resolve was weakening with every second she was dangled by the tall woman. mustering up the last bit of her strength, she furrowed her brows and looked her dead in the eye.

“yeah. you heard me. bozos.”

the woman howled with laughter, and set her down, tousling her hair. “i like this one. she’s fiery.”

“of course you would. you like ‘em when they talk back,” mal chuckled, lowering the barrel.

she sucked her teeth, shrugging. “the harder to tame, the better.”

“i’m not here for either of you.”

“raine, was it?” she ignored the dig, holding her hand out to yana instead. “immy. i’m kind of the brawn around here if you haven’t noticed.”

immy jabbed her thumb at mal, smirking. “he’s not the brains of the operation. don’t worry about that.”

“hey!” he said, holstering his gun. “you’re really gonna disrespect me like that in front of some rando?”

“damn right i will. right this way, raine,” immy said, offering her arm. yana eyed it, forcing a grimace.

“i highly suggest you take my arm so i don’t have to restrain you.”

yana laced her arm through immy’s, her taut muscle telling her everything she needed to know – she could not fight her way out of this one.

they weaved through the shop, making their way down a dim hallway towards a back room. the decor was modest, much like a bar you’d see on the edge of town where the patrons are always the same and everyone minds their business.

mal walked in front of them, approaching the big wooden door, rapping his knuckles on it a few times.

she was so wrapped in the adrenaline rush of it all that she hadn’t really noticed quite how attractive mal was. she’d dealt with attractive criminals before, but none that were as infuriating and arrogant as him. most of them minded their business and didn’t let those feelings surface, even if it was in a joking manner.

she guessed she was staring a bit too long – when she met his eyes, he winked.

“ayo, someone’s here to see you,” he yelled, leaning his hip against the door frame with a smirk.

“come in.”

“wow, bossman didn’t even hesitate,” immy said, seemingly impressed.

“maybe he knew she was coming,” mal mused before pushing the door open.

the room was large, the bookshelves lining the walls filled left to right, top to bottom with books. the black leather couches looked straight out of a casting call room, much to her distaste.

his desk was massive, seemingly a bit out of place with the rest of the more toned down decorations – long, polished mahogany with intricate carvings up and down the sides.

his posture was perfect, his fingers laced in a neutral pose. as they approached the seats facing his desk, he pushed his book to the side, slipping his glasses off and placing them on top of the cover.

“i’m assuming someone sent you,” he stated, rather than asked, expression unreadable.

“no one sent me. i don’t have a crew,” yana answered, trying to keep as calm as him.

“someone must have told you about our operation.”

“well, you’re not infamous by any means, but people are definitely talking,” she shrugged.

he stood, taking slow steps until he was at the front of the desk. he glanced at immy, then the chair, and before yana knew it, she was shoved down into a sitting position.

she tried to remain nonchalant as he leaned against the edge of the desk, arms neatly folded.

“so what do you think you know about us?” he asked with a small smile, bright blue eyes piercing.

“i know you’re ty, the head of the group. i don’t know much else,” she was being completely truthful with him, glad to drop the facade (albeit briefly).

he nodded. “that’s good. we want as little information out there as possible.”

he leaned down, long strands of hair falling in front of his shoulders, holding her gaze.

yana wasn’t one to squirm under pressure, but the way he was looking right through her, as if he was browsing the core of her being, she couldn’t help but ball her hands into fists to stop them from trembling.

“what’s your name?”

“raine,” she murmured, struggling to keep her face neutral.

his eyes subtly flitted around her face, probably trying to pick up on her microexpressions – she’d been trained in the art of facial expressions and lying, so she was thankful in that moment that she’d actually paid attention to the presentations.

he leaned back, looking at mal and immy. “she’s trustworthy.”

just like that? she kept her breathing even, trying not to visibly relax. she expected it’d be a bit harder than that.

“so, raine. what exactly do you want to do here?” he asked, walking around the desk to sit back in his seat.

“last time i worked with a crew, they cheated me out of most of my cut.”

ty nodded, eyes focusing in on her face again.

“i’m not here to make friends. i just want to make enough money to stay afloat,” she said bluntly, letting a bit of the truth shine through again.

he nodded again, putting his glasses back on, flipping through the book.

“we all pull our own weight here. we’re all expected to defend ourselves in any situation we’re in,” he said, voice low, scrawling notes in the margins of the book.

“can you shoot a gun?”

“yes.” 

“can you wield a knife?”

“yes.”

“hand to hand combat?”

“yes.”

most of the training was because of the academy, but she’d been a scrappy teen – she’d got into plenty of fights and had always been able to hold her own.

mal plopped onto the seat next to her, leg strewn across the armrest, popping a stick of gum in his mouth. “she’s gonna need a little bit of training. immy and i got her.”

ty arched a brow at mal, seemingly in slight annoyance. “training?”

“oh yeah, she strolled in here with a gun and a knife and i took her out before she could cock it,” he laughed, shooting a wink her way.

immy laughed, too, but ty wasn’t nearly as amused. “she’ll need to be at Mal’s skill level at least by our next phase.”

“‘mal’s skill level’? what the hell does that mean?” mal asked, sitting up straight.

immy’s soft chuckles morphed into her friendly booming cackle that yana had been introduced to a couple minutes before.

“you’re clearly weaker than immy. no one’s touching her,” ty said simply, delving back into his work.

mal sighed, standing. “cut me some slack, boss. not my fault she’s taller and buffer than me.”

“yes, you should blame genetics.”

yana found herself rolling her lips together, failing to back a smile. ty caught her eye and the corner of his mouth quirked up.

for just a second, she felt comfortable with them, but she had to bury that thought and keep at the task at hand.

they were criminals, this was an investigation. no attachment, no complications.

“when nia gets here, ask her to go shopping for raine,” ty said, then resumed his work.

“you got it, boss,” immy said, pulling yana to her feet, leading her to the bookcase across the room.

she pulled a book back, revealing a keypad. she typed a long string of numbers and popped her thumb on the screen at the bottom, stepping back so that the bookcase could shift. a set of stairs appeared, leading downwards, most likely towards a basement of some sort.

“are you guys gonna kidnap me or something?”

immy grinned. “nope. all the good stuff is down here.”

the concrete staircase led to a long hallway, multiple doors on either side. “your room is the last one on the left, right after the gym.”

“gym?” “yeah, you think i could upkeep these guns without a routine?” immy joked, walking with her to the end of the hallway.

her room was surprisingly big. king sized bed, walk in closet, huge bathroom with a separate shower and tub – it was larger than her apartment.

“i’ll leave you to it,” she said, pointing towards the dresser against the wall. “there’s some spare clothes in there.”

and then she was alone.

the shower she took was quick – she even stuck a chair under the door handle just in case. she didn’t trust anyone here enough to take a long shower.

she tossed on the clothes, wrapping her long dark hair up in a towel. right about then she’d wished she’d planned things out a bit better. all of her case materials were back at the motel, and she desperately wanted to update the case files with what she’d learned.

ty, mal, immy, nia. ty, mal, immy, nia. she committed the names to memory, and the appearances of the former three, too.

a knock at the door took her out of her train of thought.

she answered it, surprised to see mal standing there in a loose fitting floral top, way different than the hoodie he’d worn when she first met him.

“here,” he said, handing her the gun and blade. “forgot to return these in the excitement of it all.”

“thanks,” she said, turning to put both on the side table near the door, leaving mal standing there.

“you gonna invite me in?” he asked, leaning against the door frame.

she shrugged, feigning nonchalance as he strode in, plopping on the edge of her bed, legs sprawled wide while he leaned back on his elbows.

“so… raine. ready for training?”

“yep.”

“not talking much? understandable. i should probably introduce myself, though. properly.”

she eyed him, crossing her arms.

“i’m mal. i own all of this,” he said, gesturing around him. “volari’s the last name. well, the last name i picked.”

she nodded, knowing that she couldn’t reveal any personal information unless directly asked, trying to calculate out how to skirt around questions without being suspicious.

“the shop’s a front. kind of our homebase, ya know?” he popped his gum, gaze flitting up and down from her loose fitting clothes to her face.

“why are you looking at me like that?”

“just trying to figure you out, raine,” he emphasized her fake name, a knowing grin spreading.

yana rolled her eyes, crossing the room to the mirror, tugging the towel off her hair. “there’s nothing to figure out.”

“yeah, sure,” he said, sarcasm lacing his tone. “meet me in the gym tomorrow at 5 a.m.”

“that’s super early,” she said, watching him through the mirror as she raked her damp hair into a bun.

“we’ve gotta fit in your first training before we open shop,” mal winked, standing up from the bed.

“oh.”

“‘night,” he said, giving a lazy salute, before tugging the door shut with the toe of his shoe, leaving her standing alone.

––––

she barely slept that night, unable to stop the unending rolodex of details flitting through her mind.

names, height, build, tattoos, notable scars, voice – anything that she’d recognize regardless of a bad dye job or style change.

she gave up after a while, getting up when the clock said 3 a.m. slipping her blade into her waistband, she headed to the gym, hoping that she could cardio her way into a short nap.

the gym was immaculate – top notch equipment neatly lined the walls with more than enough space throughout for a group of five.

after scanning the room, she opted for a treadmill, deciding that sprints were the best way to tire out both her body and mind.

each pump of her legs was more painful than the last, the aching burn flickering up her legs with every slam of her shoe against the belt.

keep going, keep going, keep going.

yana didn’t give up. never was a quitter, never would be a quitter.

sweat beaded across her back and forehead, her breathing in tandem with her strides.

when she crossed the mile line, she slowed her pace, opting for a light jog for as long as she could handle it (another mile or two).

the sound of a singular shoe squeaking had her grasping for her knife, ready to point it at the intruder. But before she could get a grip on it, another hand snatched it from her waistband, flicking the blade out, training the tip at the base of her neck.

mal grinned at her. “not bad.”

she panted, flyaway hairs sticking to every slick patch of skin. he used the tip of the blade to delicately flick a strand off her shoulder.

“reflexes could be a bit faster, though.”

he lowered the knife, tossing her a cool towel instead.

“it’s 3 a.m. and i wasn’t expecting anyone,” she grumbled, dragging the towel down her face to sop up the sweat.

“correction: it’s 4 a.m. and you should always expect the worst.”

“why are you here so early then?” she snapped, flinging the towel over her shoulder in exasperation.

“same reason you’re here. can’t sleep,” he shrugged, before reaching behind him to tug off his white tee.

she finally got a full look at him and she wasn’t disappointed.

tanned, muscled torso, riddled with scars and tattoos alike, peppered with hair all across his front. It was really fucking hard not to stare.

she averted her eyes as he did a couple warm up stretches, leaning and stretching and looking oh so gorgeous while he did it.

his right arm was covered, a full sleeve from shoulder to wrist. the other arm was a half sleeve, his forearm bare except for a small tattoo with daggers and blood drops.

she’d noticed his gold earrings when she’d met him, since it was one of the flashiest things about him.

but the singular nipple ring? that was new. and definitely something she didn’t think would stir something in her.

she strode across the gym, trying to put some distance between them, grabbing the small weights. yana squatted and lifted and squatted and lifted but nothing she did could distract her from the soft grunts coming from mal across the room.

he was on a fucking pull up bar, tugging himself upward, hair tied back, sweat beading on his brow.

one of the biggest undercover no-no’s was getting involved with anyone while on the case. Even if they’re surrounding the case – not even a main target – it was all but forbidden.

unless… it was for intel.

get a fucking grip, dude. she shook the thought away, all but spraying herself with a hose at the thought.

“it’s about that time,” he said, a while later.

she pushed through her last few crunches, shaking off the burn as she stood up.

“i fail to see why i need to be trained. i don’t even know what we’ll be doing,” she said nonchalantly, stretching her arms.

the easiest way for her to get intel was to pretend like she didn’t care. It worked with most male egos she came across – the second she acted like she’d rather be anywhere else, the man would all but spell out his diabolical plans with a diagram and a play-by-play.

“i think you’ll at least need to know how to defend yourself. never know what situations we’ll get into,” he said, vaguely, scrubbing his own towel across his chest and torso.

unfortunately, that told her nothing.

“alright, so first thing’s first, we’ll need to roll out these mats –”

immy slammed the door open, cutting off mal’s first order.

“nia brought the grub! get in here before i eat it all,” immy said, throwing a knowing look at yana.

she looked to mal, waiting for his direction.

“go ahead. i’m gonna finish up my workout. save me a plate, alright?” he asked, striding towards the weights.

yana slipped past her and into the hallway without a second glance, trying to look anywhere but the sly grin that stretched immy’s mouth.

“so what was going on in there?” immy asked, teasing.

“nothing. just training.”

“just training. suuuure,” she said with a laugh, clapping yana on the back, knocking the wind out of her.

they trudged up the stairs to the autoshop, yana’s legs crying out with each step. she was regretting the workout in that regard, but a tiny part of her brain was revelling in the time she spent with mal, mind reeling over each physical detail of him.

they made their way to the tiny kitchen (much smaller than the one underground), greeted with a few platters of breakfast food and a smiling woman.

“hi! i hear you’re the one who took over my bedroom,” nia grinned, giving a friendly wave. “it’s so nice to meet you.”

she cocked her head to the side, making sure to make a slight spectacle of almost not trusting nia’s friendliness – had to lean into the “raine” persona, right?

nia’s smile didn’t waver as she gestured at the food. “i thought i could give you a bit of a warm welcome. it was undoubtedly nicer than theirs, huh?”

ty chuckled under his breath, stepping away from the counter with a steaming mug of coffee. “you know us too well, nia.”

immy snorted, grabbing a plate and piling up the bacon and pancakes. “thanks, chief.”

nia laughed in response, handing a plate to yana, encouraging her to eat.

it was such a weird atmosphere. the night before was pretty tense – yana was tense. she was petrified of sleeping through the night for fear of someone coming in the room and offing her.

and to be greeted with platters of food and a chill atmosphere? madness.

it made her a bit nervous considering in her experience some of the most heinous crimes were committed by tight knit crews that considered each other family. she couldn’t help but wonder what kind of shit she’d gotten herself into.

she piled her plate with fruit and oatmeal, leaning against the wall as she popped a spoonful of cinnamon oatmeal in her mouth, chasing it with a sliced apple.

“glad to finally tip the scales. i didn’t think we’d be adding anyone to the crew, but i’m so happy you’re here,” nia said, taking a sip from her mug.

“i think immy’s woman enough for the both of us,” yana shrugged, shoveling another spoonful in her mouth.

“don’t tempt me, raine. i have no issue telling you exactly what i wanna do to you,” immy lifted a brow, licking the underside of her spoon very slowly, holding her gaze.

nia nearly choked on her tea, mumbling a soft “excuse me” as she grabbed a napkin to blot her mouth.

“flustering the nun. another tick off my bucket list,” immy cackled.

“former and i was training,” nia threw a pointed look at her, locking eyes with yana right after.

“you’re here with us now. that’s all that matters,” ty said, with a bit of finality, hushing the rest of the conversation.

mal burst into the room, drenched in sweat and half naked. “pancakes? oh fuck yeah. thanks nia.”

he piled the food on his plate, plopping down on the barstool at the counter. he glanced back at yana, then patted the seat next to him with a smirk. “i don’t bite.”

she rolled her eyes, rigid stance betraying the fluttering in her chest. she slid in next to him and ate silently, eyes trained on her food.

“so, boss, what’s on the agenda for today?” mal asked through a mouthful of food.

ty stared at him in disgust, setting his mug down to address the room. “we have a lot of planning to do. these next few jobs have to be absolutely seamless if we want to evade law enforcement.”

“what, you’re saying that the pigs caught wind of us?” immy asked, annoyance lacing her tone.

“no, not to my knowledge,” ty shook his head, a single wrinkle appearing between his thick brows. “but we won’t be able to keep this up for long.”

he strode over to the spread of food, grabbing a single grape, tossing it into his mouth. “each his has to count. there’s absolutely no room for mistakes.”

everyone nodded in agreeance.

“mal and immy, you’re with me. we’ll be planning escape routes, seeing if they match up with our physical map, scouting the areas – the grueling work. nia,” he said, glancing down at her. “you’ll take raine shopping. she’ll need a dress for the gala.”

he trained his gaze on yana, gaze penetrating right through her. she held her breath, hoping that nothing about the way she ate, sat, breathed tipped him off –

“get her a wig, too.”

––––

a power nap and a couple hours later, yana and nia were in nia’s car, driving towards the center of the city to the mall.

“i’ve never been to a gala before,” yana murmured honestly, watching the storefronts pass by, gradually getting more and more expensive.

“once you’ve been to one, you’ve been to them all,” nia shrugged, flicking her blinker before turning into the parking garage.

shopping was fairly painless. nia took her to her favorite store, forced her to try on a handful of dresses, and thankfully the second one fit (and was both of their favorites).

“this is too much,” yana said bluntly, trying to mask her eagerness to wear the floor length gown.

“no it’s perfect. you’ll fit in seamlessly,” she said, swiping her card. the cashier handed her the plastic covered gown, and they were out again.

“i have a few wigs back in my room that you can try on. i’m thinking a short blonde bob for you,” nia said, reaching out to gently push yana’s long dark strands over her shoulder.

nia was beautiful. her long red curls soaked up the sun and reflected the gold – she was clearly the best of them all with a heart big enough for everyone and then some.

her eyes were soft, smile even softer, with curves even softer than that.

there was something about nia that felt like home. yana brushed the thought away, redirecting her mind to the event.

“what am i supposed to do at the gala?”

“schmooze some rich people, make them think you’re high society, gain their trust, all of that,” she said simply, unlocking the car.

–––

after a quick wig fitting, nia flipped a hand mirror yana’s way, grinning widely. “you look gorgeous.”

“oh... that’s different.”

nia frowned. “different as in bad?”

“no, not bad,” she said, running her hand through the short blunt bob that didn’t even graze her shoulders. “just different. i’ve never been a blonde.”

“oh, you’ll be alright,” she reassured her, grabbing a mannequin head with a long blonde wig on it, pre-styled with curls and braids galore. “there’s always a first time for everything!”

when they emerged from their room, ready to head to the event in an unknown location (which made yana insanely nervous), the rest of the crew were neck deep in planning, mumbling amongst themselves.

“we’re out! be back in a few hours,” nia waved without a second glance, jingling the car keys as she went.

the three of them looked stunned when they laid eyes on yana. immy’s mouth upturned into a smirk and mal’s scarred eyebrow lifted – even ty looked a bit taken aback.

“you clean up well, raine,” immy nodded, gesturing to her gown.

“thanks,” she said, a bit uncomfortably.

as yana, she was flattered; as raine, she was bothered.

“uh, well, i’ll be back soon. bye.”

“wait,” mal called as she turned her back. “here.” 

he slipped a blade and a thin leather strap into her hand, gently closing her fingers around it. “just in case.”

“is this –” she stopped, looking at the buckle and pouch. a thigh strap for the blade.

“yup. stay safe, raine,” he winked, returning to the table, which was covered in maps and loose papers.

–––

the gala was pretty boring.

maybe it was because she wasn’t exactly sure why she was there quite yet, so she couldn’t properly gather intel, but either way the attendees were bland.

nia blabbed on and on about mundane things with the men, laughing, twirling her hair, and gently resting a hand on a shoulder at the right time.

they were putty in her hands.

yana on the other hand was as charming as she could manage, trying to coax information out of the men who were two seconds away from getting handsy.

an hour and a half in, nia took the stage, which surprised her.

what shocked her even more was the fact that the gala was for charity. specifically nia’s charity. 

she commanded the stage like she belonged there, and by the end of her speech about taking care of the people of their city, every socialite was scrambling to add an extra zero to their checks.

“this is your event? for your charity?” she whispered in nia’s ear between shaking hands and thanking the patrons.

“yeah! i’ll tell you more about it on the way back,” she said offhandedly, before leaning in to hug a woman covered in decadent jewels.

when they made it to the car, nia spilled immediately.

“so, i’m the face of the charity by day. it’s fairly new and pretty small,” nia started, keeping her eyes on the road.

“and you failed to mention your connection to it because…?”

“the crew thought i should wait to tell you.”

“i feel like i don’t have all of the pieces here, though.”

she sighed. “you don’t.”

yana raised a brow.

“i’m a former novitiate. a nun in training, if you will. i trained at a large church in the heart of the city, and my dream was to eventually head an orphanage and lead troubled youth to christ.”

“what changed?” she asked cautiously.

“my eyes were open to the corruption of the church before it was too late, thankfully. i couldn’t handle the greediness. it felt like every decision was driven by profit, not spirituality. their numbers were dollar amounts, not souls saved,” nia sighed, slowing to a stop at the red light, tugging the wig off her head. “each case was hand chosen for potential monetary gain. nothing was genuine.

“after leaving the church, i created the charity specifically to take care of homeless citizens, since we have a huge population of them. we’re focused on small victories like proper kitchens and distributing survival kits right now, but we’re working towards bigger things.”

“so… why was i involved tonight?” yana asked earnestly.

“because you’re a new face. a pretty face. virtually undetectable to these people. i can’t do all of it on my own, you know,” she smiled.

“so what does this have to do with the crew?”

“i’ll let them explain that to you,” nia said simply, ending the conversation.

––––

when they entered ty’s office, the rest of the crew were there, sitting around, drinking and chatting.

“there’re the pretty ladies,” immy slurred from her seat, holding up her nearly empty mug of beer.

“any news?” ty asked after taking a small sip of what looked like scotch.

“raine did awesome, just as i suspected,” nia beamed, throwing her arm around yana’s waist.

“that’s what i love to hear,” mal said from the seat next to immy, winking when yana caught his eye.

“i told her a bit about the gala, and my charity, but i thought i’d wait till we were all together to explain further.”

ty nodded. “that was the right move.”

“i’m all ears,” yana said, slipping into the open seat next to immy.

“you ladies earned a drink. let me grab you one before we get started. beer okay?” mal asked, jogging out the door towards the kitchen.

“beer’s fine,” yana called, slipping her heels off and rubbing her aching feet.

as soon as they both had their drinks, ty addressed her, launching into a full explanation.

“nia’s our best judge of character. i’d apologize that you weren’t kept in the loop until now, but you know how these things work. we can’t compromise the mission,” he said, stepping up from his desk to pace.

“nia is also our decoy, if you will. she’s the one who draws in the potential targets so we can gather information and plan. the rest of us are… not quite on good terms with the law,” he said, pausing his stride to look at yana.

immy laughed, throwing back the last of her beer. “you can say that again.”

“what’d you do?” yana asked, eyes darting between mal and ty.

“well, i’ve just done a lot of dirty work for people,” immy sighed, wincing. “and it backfired.”

“i’ll refrain from speaking about personal matters,” ty said, a hint of pain in his gaze.

“unlike the boss, i don’t mind telling you. i can’t remember a time where i wasn’t pissing off some cop. the list is endless,” mal grinned.

“you can’t just ask us and then not tell us what you’ve done,” immy complained, sliding her mug onto ty’s desk, quickly grabbing a coaster when ty’s gaze turned sharp.

yana shrugged. “i don’t know. i’ve always been a bit of a problem.”

it was true. growing up in foster care toughened her up pretty early. protecting her brother from bullies kept her in trouble.

they were never formally adopted, but they spent so much time in the same foster homes over time that kade just became her brother. 

she got into the normal scrappy kid problems, stopping eventually when she’d racked up enough petty misdemeanors to potentially get time.

instead, she begrudgingly joined the force. she never liked being a cop, but she loved detective work.

it wasn’t her dream job, but it was the job that let her be whoever she wanted to be. yeah, sometimes she hated slipping into a different identity every couple of months (or years), but she couldn’t picture herself doing anything else. at least right then she couldn’t, as she sat amongst a crew that she’d infiltrated with no issue – she was playing them like a fiddle, and they had no clue.

“good thing we like to fix problems here,” mal said, eyeing her as he tipped his drink back.

nia laughed nervously, gripping her bottle tight. “okay, can we continue? please?”

“thank you, nia, as always, for keeping us on track,” ty said, nodding her way. “our operation is one that some would consider the… vigilante sort.”

“as in, you’re taking matters into your own hands?”

ty nodded again. “we’ve all experienced corruption in the city at different levels, and we’ve grown tired of sitting idly by while nothing gets done by the same officials who get reelected term after term while having no record of accomplishments.”

“and you think i’m a good fit here?” she didn’t know why she blurted that question out. it’s like every time she was on thin ice she ventured farther and farther, begging for it to crack.

“i saw it in your eyes, raine. you want to help people,” he said, holding her gaze. “this – our operation – can be how you do that.”

“i still don’t know what i’m getting myself into. i can’t decide anything without knowing,” she said, honest again.

“you’re going to have to decide.” his voice was firm, unwavering. he knew exactly what he was doing – every step of the past twenty four hours was a test, each interaction with each member converging to this moment.

she looked to each person in the room, from immy’s bright gaze, to nia’s warm inviting eyes, to mal’s sultry stare, to ty’s – his icy blue eyes were piercing. like the first time she met him, he was staring right through her as if he could see the essence of her being if he searched hard enough.

“i’m in.”

––––