#tw reckless driving mention

[dearestsilhouette]

man. I am so genuinely scared to drive with my dad. He’s such a reckless driver and I hate it. I hate it when it’s icy or rainy too. He’ll swerve into the street on purpose and go really fast and it scares me. And he won’t stop. I hate it.

I’m scared to get into his damned truck and drive somewhere with him because of it. I went to a Wendy’s earlier and he swerved into the street and it made and still makes me so fucking scared. Even if he goes slightly faster than normal it makes me paranoid.

luckily, I haven’t ever been in a car crash. But I feel like I will considering my dad’s driving habits.

I really don’t like my dad. I hate him more than I love him.

[fletcherwilbury]

@sochilll December Prompt List Day 19: Dinner

Warning for Reckless driving, arguing, vomit mention, food intolerance mention, food allergy mention

[suoulfillem]

for the first like 3 hours of work tonight i was trying to starve off an anxiety attack because just before i got there my mum told me she nearly got into a car accident the night before that was eerily similar to the car accident that killed my cousin and it was just like haha holy shit! that could’ve actually happened! again!! fuck!

[chrissv4mp]

౨ৎ YOU DON'T REMEMBER CALLING OUT FOR ME?

★ sum: after a bad breakup with matt, you storm out of his party and get in the car. matt follows after you, and he regrets everything he said when he sees it happen.

☆ pair: matt sturniolo × fem!reader

★ tws: cursing, arguments, crying, driving under the influence kinda, car crashes, slight blood, mentions of amnesia (the loss of memories, facts, information, and experiences.)

☆ a/n: don't check my airbuds history.....

★ a/n 2: also really hoping to make a part 2 for this, but i need a few opinions

★ wc: 3.3k

navigation

"don't be so fucking sensitive, y/n! i was just messing around. you're getting all riled up over nothin', kid." matt groans, leaning back and supporting himself with his hands on the mattress underneath him.

a scoff falls from your lips as you cross your arms, watching him from the open door of his bedroom, "don't call me 'kid', i'm not a fuckin' kid, matthew. and you could've died from the height of your apartment! you're still drunk." you catch sight of his blown pupils even from across the room, worry and anger clear on your face.

matt just rolls his eyes, gripping the sheets in his hands as he sighs, "well, i can hear what you're saying perfectly, thank you. and, plus, i wasn't gonna lose 50 fucking dollars, y/n."

"you didn't have to give it to the guy, matt. you're just so reckless, it's like you're trying to kill yourself 24/7! what is your problem?" your breathing is heavy now, the heat of the argument never dying down as you continue to voice your complaints about his recklessness. tears threaten to fall down your cheeks as he just mutters inaudible words.

"what problem? there's not a problem, you're the one making it a problem, y/n. it's not my fault you're such a boring fucking person. god, i can't even comprehend why i wanted to date you!" he growls, his voice never shaking as he stares you straight in the eyes. he seems serious, but you knew that he always said things he never meant while under the influence.

it feels like your whole world just fell apart, though. your chest feels tighter and it's almost like you can barely breathe, gripping the doorframe tightly as you watch matt fiddle with the edge of his pillowcase. he really doesn't care, his eyes not showcasing any emotion other than hatred. or, that's what it seems. you want the tears to fall, but they don't. you want to leave, but you can't. you want matt to say something, maybe even take it back, but he doesn't.

you want to— "then why haven't you broken up with me?" stupid. the realization that you just spoke up hits you only when matt stands up from his bed, inching closer toward your small figure as he gets tilts his head to get a better look at you, "tell me, matt." again? just shut up!

"you're right, i really wonder why i didn't do this sooner." your eyes widen in the slightest, your heart dropping to your stomach as you stare up into his cold, blue eyes that once looked at you in adoration. the spark that was once there is gone now as he looks at you, squinting his eyes as he speaks, "we're over. get the fuck out of my room, y/n."

your lips part in a silent gasp, eyes searching his for any signs of hesitation or regret or something. nothing, once again. he scoffs when he takes a step back, crossing his arms in a mimicking manner as he nods his head toward the hallway behind you, "actually, get the fuck out of my house."

the sick feeling in your stomach never leaves even as you turn away from your boyf—ex, and walk through the hallway. you make your way down the stairs, not even stopping to say bye to nick or chris as you pass by them in the living room. all you do is keep your head down and drag your feet, grabbing your jacket off the rack before leaving through the front door. it slams behind you, but you don't care anymore. your whole world just fell apart right in the hands of the person who you loved most. in the hands of the person who you thought loved you the most.

matt didn't care, though. well, not until he replayed the earlier events in his head over and over again after he saw you leave down the stairs. the impact of his words didn't hit himself until you were finally gone and he was sitting in his room alone, surrounded by millions of memories of you and him. your clothes were still here, the things you bought for him, they were painful reminders of the words that he just spoke to you. he didn't even think about it when he said them, he was just spitting out anything that came to mind. he wasn't thinking of the consequences.

maybe he should run after you or maybe he should just sit here and drown in his sorrow and despair, that was the more reasonable option. for him at least. his mind is so loud right now, he doesn't even know what to think anymore. his body moves by itself, jolting forward as his feet take him running down the stairs. he skips steps, almost tripping over his untied shoelaces and stumbling down the last few. he takes a quick glance at the living room and kitchen, but you're not there.

party guests call matts name, but he's not listening. he's not interested in whatever bullshit they have to say right now because his mind is shouting at him to find you, to make things right and show you that he never meant it. he doesn't even notice that he's shoving party goers out of the way until someone pushes him back, resulting in the brunette getting splashed with some red beverage. his heart beats fast and hard, the sound loud and drowning out any other thing around him. we'll, besides the overwhelming thoughts of you.

he slips on one of chris's jackets, darting out the door and slamming it shut behind him. he doesn't see you in the driveway, no sight of your car down the street or on the side of the apartment. his ears pick up on the sound of a car beeping, and his head whips around to find a bike propped up against the garage door. it all happens so fast, he can't even remember when he started pedaling down the street and catching sight of your h/c hair through your car window. he waves, but you don't give him anything back.

it feels like he's invisible, and now he knows what you felt like tonight in that apartment, alone and unseen. unheard by any and everyone around you, including the love of your life. matt watches as you speed up, ready to round the corner deeper into the neighborhood. you really don't know where you're going, though. all you want right now is to just get away from the house and never come back, you didn't want to remember the events of tonight ever. your hands grip the steering wheel tightly as your foot presses even harder on the break.

the tears you held back earlier now begin to fall, and you mentally curse yourself for not holding them in longer. now you couldn't see anything, your vision blurry as you bring a hand up and off the steering wheel to wipe your eyes, trying to see through the windshield again. it doesn't work, and now you're just hoping that you won't lose control over the car. the limited time that your vision is cleared, you can see matt following close behind your car on a black bike, and your first instinct is to freeze and stare.

you don't make the turn, stomping on the brakes in the middle of the road as you watch your boy come closer and closer. his eyes widen, lips parting before you hear a cry of your name tumble from his lips. the only noise you hear is a loud horn coming from the left of you, your head whipping to the side and watching as a large truck comes your way at a fast pace. then, you hear the ringing in your ear, eyes squeezing shut as you let your arms fall to the side of you.

the truck t-bones your car, sending both of the vehicles flying to the right quickly. you smell gas, feeling the wet sensation of blood dripping down your temple and running down the bridge of your nose. your body feels weak, like you can't move, so you just sit there, head lying against the airbag on the steering wheel as you slip into unconsciousness. matt watches in shock and fear as your car tips on its side and smoke begins to erupt from the hood of the car. his heart feels like it stops beating for a moment as he watches the truck reverse and drive off quickly, anger coursing through his veins as he jumps off the bike and lets it fall to the pavement of the sidewalk.

he runs over to your car, his chest heaving up and down quickly as he makes an effort to tip the car back on its wheels. it doesn't work, though, and he grunts as he throws himself against the metal of the roof, "y/n, hey!" his voice seems to snap you out of your daze, now feeling fully conscious as your eyes flutter open again. your body fell against the car door, the seatbelt strap felt like it was suffocating you. the small space of the car suddenly made you weary, eyes widening as your breathing picked up rapidly.

"don't! stop, y/n, don't panic," matt breathes out, trying his best to come off as calm and collected. but he's really not, he's far from anything relatively close to the sort. more footsteps are heard behind him, and now his neighbor is standing a few feet beside matt, "what the fuck happened?"

"doesn't matter. js' help me flip the car, would you?" matt sighs, the panic in his body rising as the smell of gas surfaces. the car flips onto the wheels after quite a moment of struggles, and matt doesn't hesitate to throw youe car door open and grab you. his feet take him stumbling away from the car again, holding you tightly in his arms as if he let go, he would lose you. again. a string of coughs erupt from your throat as you and matt fall gently to the grass of someone's front yard, and matt lies you down as he props himself up with his elbows.

his neighbor is already far away, phone up to his ear as he watches the car explode into flames, the windows of nearby houses reflecting the burning red, orange, and blue lights. matt breathes out as he grips the fabric of his hoodie, more tears coming to his eyes at the realization that if he hadn't left sooner, you would've died. his head moves away entirely from the scene, looking back at your weak body that lay on the grass beside him.

only then does he notice the large gash just below your hairline, and his breath hitches again as he struggles to throw his hoodie over his head and hold it against your own. his other hand cradles the back of your head, his body hovering over yours as he silently prays that you'll be alright. the blood has already traveled down your neck, though. it soaks your white shirt as your head falls to the side, eyes threatening to close as you mutter out jumbled up words, "hey, hey, come on, look at me, y/n. please, look at me. open your eyes, come on..!"

"baby, please. just stay awake, please. my pretty girl, come on..!!" he whispers, anger overcoming his being as he grips the fabric in his hands tighter. he's so angry at himself. he wished he was the one in that car. he should've been the one to experience this, not you. you didn't deserve this at all. it was all his fault, what happened to you. what if he had just talked with you? what if he had just said sorry? what if, what if, what if?

the world seems to spinning faster than usual right now, your head aching as you look at your surroundings. as you look up at the sky, you're met with the cool shade of blue that slowly fades to orange and pink as it travels beneath the mountain until you can't see. then, you make out the frame of matts face, his eyes full of worry and his hair messy. tears stream down his face as he cried quietly, "matt?" you mutter weakly, eyes teary and bloodshot. he nods frantically, a small smile forming on his lips as he whispers, "yes, yes, yes. it's me." but then it all goes away.

matt? who was matt? your face contorts into a look of confusion as you try to tilt your head, only to hiss at the sting the small movement causes, "what—who? who are you?" the hope is washed away by those few words, and the brunettes smile disappears as he feels tiny, imaginary daggers stabbing away at his heart. he doesn't have time to speak before he finally hears the blaring sounds of sirens coming down the street. multiple emergency vehicles drive down the pavement quickly, stopping at the scene. matt is suddenly being pulled away from your frail body, fighting against the hands of the paramedics as he tries to yell out your name. nothing comes out, though, his voice too tired to be used anymore.

his vision is blurred, but he can still make out the way your eyes close softly as your head falls to the side. his heart shatters as he cries out your name finally, all the emotions so overwhelming he doesn't know what else to say. then his brothers are holding him close, trying to calm him down as all three of them stumble to the pavement of their driveway, "matt, hey, look at us. she'll be okay." nick whispers reassuringly, but he doesn't know if that's true. chris just stares blankly as the paramedics carry you on a gurney into the back of the ambulance.

your lip is busted, blood dripping down your head quickly and multiple bruises scattered across your body. the ambulance doors begin to close, and matt quickly jumps up from his place between his brothers and sprints towards the red car. his hands pry the doors open again, eyes wild as he stares at the caretakers in the back of the ambulance, "please, let me come. i need to be here with her, just—" one of the paramedics nod, and that's all the confirmation matt needs to jump into the back and take his place beside your head.

the car shakes subtly on the gravelly road, and the gentle coos of... him make your eyelids open slowly. you want to get up, so you make an effort to move yourself off the gurney in the back of the ambulance, but the paramedics only urge to stay where you're at, "you have to lay down, you're in terrible shape, sweetheart." but why? what even happened? where were you and why were you there?

who were these people? no, who was the guy right beside you who continued to stroke your hair gently? you don't even know yourself right now. did you hit your head? is that why it ached? what about your body? your eyes move around the small, confined space of the ambulance, stopping when you look out of the little window in the back door. the car continues to move down the street, but you still don't remember where you're going or where you were coming from.

"what happened?" you finally speak, but your voice is low and quiet, barely audible to anyone over the beeping of machines and the rocks beneath the road. matt sighs quietly, and now your attention is on him, "you got in a car crash. you're okay, now, so, don't worry." he gives you a gentle smile, but you only give him a look of confusion and worry.

"no?" you try to argue, looking around at the paramedics beside you. they only nod, and your heart drops once again. you were always a safe driver, or at least that's what you think in that moment. everything in your mind is so blurry you don't even remember what happened yesterday or what plans you made for the future. and still, you didn't know the guy touching your face.

matt watches as you space out, his thumb stroking your cheek affectionately as he frowns. he remembers the look on your face earlier that night, when he broke things off, and now it's back. that dumbfounded look that makes your lips part and your eyes squint subtly. you looked the same at times, even when half your face was beat up. he didn't care, though, he still thought you were beautiful, always. he brings his hand up to brush a stray hair out of your face, and only then do you turn your head to look at him again.

"who are you..?" you whisper, eyes looking him up and down. his hair is messy, eyes droopy, cheeks stained with tears, and his clothing is wrinkled. matt tilts his head, a smile coming to his face as more tears well up in his eyes, "you don't remember me?" you shake your head the best you can, squinting your eyes to try and get a better look at him. it feels like you should remember him, it seems like he was an important person in your life, but you can't quite grasp who he was to you.

"you don't even remember calling out to me?" another shake of your head, and matt inhales sharply. he wanted to scream and cry. he wanted you to comfort him. he wanted you back. but he should've known you wouldn't remember it. he should've taken the hint the moment you asked who he was. it still hurt, though. it felt like the entire world was bashing him. emotionally and physically, it hurt, the guilt weighing down on his shoulders as he stared at your confused face, sniffling quietly before he took his hands off your head.

the drive continues, but this time the tension is thicker then before. the silence is so loud, you barely hear the loud blaring of a truck horn coming from outside of the car. you flinch hard, eyes shutting closed as you try and shield your face. matt watches with teary eyes, letting out a breath of sympathy as he replays the events in his head. then, the entire thing comes back to you. the loud horn, the smell of gas, the blood sticking to your hair and the boy who came to save you.

red, orange, blue. the fire. the screams and the cries that the boy let out for you. he was the first person to come after you because he cared for you. you still didn't know why, though. why did he care so much? why did he feel the need to save you? "i told you even then you looked so pretty, y/n. you still do, you'll always be beautiful to me." the brunette whispered, leaning over your frail body as he gave you a gentle smile. his eyes were teary, though, and he looked hurt. very hurt.

"i—i'm sorry." is all you can say at the moment, eyes traveling to his as you frown. he shakes his head, lips parting to inhale shakily before he speaks, "don't be. ts' not you're fault," he smiles, but when he looks back into your eyes, they're swarming with the tiniest bit of guilt, "you do know that, right?" nothing but silence from your end. the boy takes your hand lightly, careful not to accidentally hurt you as he runs his thumb along the top, "it was never your fault, baby. i promise you, it was my—it was that truckers fault for not stopping."

your lips curve into the smallest smile as you make an effort to hold his hand, and the boy almost bursts out into sobs as he feels it. his head turns away from you for a few moments, trying to recollect himself as he takes deep breaths. when he finally looks back at you, your eyes are already on him, "i'm—i'm matt, you're boyfriend. but... we need to talk about a few things, 'kay..?"

tags: @jetaimevous @livialifesblog @watercolorskyy @blahbel668 @her-favorite

@wiidfi0wer33

[moriitis]

What would it be like dating Toby Rogers?

Slightly NSFW? TWs; gore, blood, manic episodes, kidnapping. Just little HCs.

Pretty much the biggest goofball there is but he can be really annoying, anything to get you pissed, doesn't really understand the concept of overstepping a joke or taking things too far. I feel like warnings kinda go over Toby's head, so if you told him to stop, he would continuously do it because the first time it made you laugh so naturally every time he did it, you'd laugh, right? He'd do things like jabbing you in the sides when he walks past, jamming his fingers up your butt to piss you off (smacking your ass when you bend over), chasing you up the stairs, he'd mock you when you whined and do that thing to mimic your facial expressions in an irritating way but also in a way to make you laugh.

Loves driving you around, especially late at night. More prone to opening up about his feelings when driving because then his attention is diverted to the road and he's forced to avoid your gaze. You'll always know he needs to vent when he asks if you wanna go ride around, listen to music or something, he'd mention it with his hands in his pocket, pretty embarrassed to ask. Also just likes to ride around and find somewhere remote to park so he can fuck you in the backseat of his car.

Probably the worst person ever to try to call or text. He'll never answer so good luck really trying to get a hold of him.

He's a romantic and he's pretty corny. On the rare occasion he does decide to text you, it'll be a song that reminded him of you. Although don't be surprised if he literally hands you a tape with burned music on it. Wild flowers that he decided to pick because the colour of the petal reminded him of your eyes? Coming home late at night with your favourite snacks. He's a good boy and despite the occasional memory loss, he remembers these things about you, he also keeps reminders on a little piece of paper tucked away in his wallet.

He's a physical person but really only in private. Cuddling on the couch? For sure! Want to share a kiss in public? Probably not. It's nothing toward you, he just feels weird expressing bouts of love in public with people watching. Was it the lack of love in his childhood? Probably.

Will roll your cigarettes/blunts for you. He's a natural.

Very competitive gamer, try playing some Mario Kart against him and this guy is quivering at the thought of beating you. You got him with a blue shell once at the finish line, thus taking his first place last minute and he had to step outside to have a cigarette because the loss hit him that hard.

Despite his lack of physical affection in public, he is possessive. Hates the idea of other people looking at you and gets very jealous. Also will stand incredibly close to you, close enough you could feel his breath against the back of your neck. He'll scowl around too and make sure to put himself between you and another guy.

Speaks German when he's angry, like when he rages at Mario Kart (he HATES Yoshi primarily) you'll hear him talking smack to the TV in German.

Also speaks German to you when you're beneath him, muttering small praises in his mother tongue as he pants and groans softly against the skin of your neck. Sometimes he'll mix, start speaking English but end the sentence in German.

His driving is reckless but he'd never put you in any danger, not after what happened with Lyra.

He hates being around you when he has a manic episode, his voice cracking as he yells at you to stand back, that he's dangerous, that he could hurt you, kill you. With each step you take toward him, he takes one back, violently shaking his head. His tics and twitches are worse as he runs his hands through his hair, they bawl, tugging at his locks as if he was daring to rip them out but the pain is non existent to him. He'd storm out, distancing himself from you. It could take weeks, the longest it took was a month before he came back, scruffy, tired, longing.

Talks about how he wants to travel, to go somewhere with you, that he'll kidnap you and take you away forever and that you'll only be his and his alone.

Does get a little thrill of scaring you. Making it look like your home alone but as you walk past the bathroom door, he'll jump out, one hand over your mouth, the other wrapping around your waist as he picks you up helplessly and drags you back. You'll kick and scream until his raspy laughter breaks out behind you. He did it a couple times until you had a panic attack once and he never did it again.

Likes to remind you to take your medication, dude specifically has a calendar to keep track of times and dates, when you should take this and that. Especially birth control.

Will touch your thigh as you sit in the car together sometimes his fingers pushing up further in a little attempt to get lucky, a smug smirk on his face.

Compliments in German too, of course.

Will suddenly hit the breaks in the car to send you flying and then lecture you to always wear a seatbelt. Always wear your seatbelts when sat in car with him.

sorry these suck lololol, idk might seem off character for toby but it's just how i see it play out. i'll make another post for just general HCs for Toby bc i have so many. anywayyy taking requests to shoot if you have any ideas :)

[zph]

dumb, dumber, and bloody. | vampire!scaramouche x gn!hunter reader

a vampire and hunter’s guide to the “will they? won’t they?” trope except it is either between kissing or killing each other.

notes: suggestive (making out lol), tension, mentions of blood (not too explicit), bloody kisses?, mentions of injections, somehow u both match each others freak (in a loser & kinda wanna kill each other way), not proofread

masterlist

there is something so alluring about danger, about trusting your neck, so vulnerable and pliant to a creature who can easily tear it in half.

“you could have killed me.” he says, huffing between each breath. “why didn’t you fucking kill me?”

the smell of blood permeating the air was intoxicating yet you stood firm, one hand holding him closer and the other tugging down the neckline of your shirt, baring more skin for him to bite. “I quite like your fangs, you know. they’re..” your laugh comes out more breathless than he expected, more staggered. “really…sharp. hey, do you bite your tongue sometimes?”

“you’re..” he touches your neck, watching it bob as he lingers over the marks. “so reckless.” his touch was uncharacteristically gentle; the coldness from his fingertips numbs the stinging pain and washes over you like a cold bath. “insatiable hunter.”

you took up every crevice of his mind, craving his attention at every turn. a dumb hunter with an even dumber passion to seemingly tug at his patience and enough audacity to take it to the extreme, and even better methods of escaping. it was driving him insane how close he is to drinking you dry and how damn calm you appear right now. you were so infuriating.

“you had a complete advantage.” he begins, each word becoming more frustrated than the last. “your injection was right there. hah, i was right there. you could have been done with this. finished your mission and move on.”

you simply smile. “you were hungry.”

but he spits out, grabbing hold of your shirt, wrinkling it under his firm clenches. “and you were not supposed to be my food.”

“too late for that now?” his breath was only inches from yours. his eyes glinting with boiling anger, desperation, and something else entirely.

“you are so…” it was getting hard to breathe, and scaramouche barely looked like he could keep himself together, staring straight from your face down to the mischievous grin plastered on your lips.

this is what he wanted for so long, how much he longed for the end of that incessant hunter who makes it their goal to rally him around like some toy, and then leave once he finally got you in his grasp. but now? he doesn’t know whether his irritation stems from the end of this cat-and-mouse game or the fact you looked so happy under his tight hold.

yet you tug on his hip, curling your finger around the pant loop and pulling him closer until your chest was well pressed up against his. “stupid?” you murmur like a challenge, watching as his eyes flicker with a certain glow: dangerous and electrifying. “maybe.” so, you were aware.

“what makes you think i won’t kill you right now?”

“because you would have done so the moment your teeth sank into me.” and when your hand reaches towards your pocket, he feels that same injection tickling his neck, readily aimed straight at his skin.

finally, his gaze reaches down your neck, tracing the faint bite marks that litter the skin with such reverence that he has to bite down the urge. “and you would have done the same.”

in truth, you both were restricting the other in some way, reaching a stalemate of some sort. above all else, you both valued the other with a sick curiosity. and with each well-intentioned move, you kept your indulgence under wraps until you both couldn’t take it anymore.

it was then that laughter swelled up in scaramouche’s chest.

what a mess you both were.

despite this, you feel his hand slowly travel up from your shirt, dragging along to your jaw then gently tilting your head until it levels towards his. you lean in closer, anticipation twitching in your fingertips as you tug on his waist once more.

one beat. one second. and his lips crash into yours.

the frustration is all visible to you as his cold fingers wrap around the nape of your neck. the cool chill envelopes your body once more and makes itself home by slowly ghosting down your spine.

spending more time in his presence led you to curiously prod at his temper, waving around your status as a hunter, which many times earned you a cut or two in retaliation.

but not like this, not when he holds you as if you weren’t enemies but two lovers, fatally enthralled with each other.

and to your surprise, he drags the kiss for much longer. “you better come back after you tell your advisors that you somehow lost me again.” scaramouche mutters, his voice hazy and breathless. he only pulled away for a mere second until he is back on your lips once more, greedily shallowing the chuckle that escapes your mouth.

by gods, it’s hard to fight him on it. not when he tugs on your lower lip, nipping at it until a familiar metallic fills your mouth. definitely not when his tongue practically brushes against the puncture, your brain dizzying the moment he sighs at the taste.

only in each other’s presence, you both felt so vulnerable for the first time, but despite that evident danger, neither of you can find yourselves pulling away.

[pin-k-ink]

ghost hunt // shalnark (pt. 2)

tw ⇢ enemies to lovers, strong sexual tension, mentions of violence, rough sex, manhandling, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, edging, orgasm denial, asphyxiation, spanking, squirting, begging, hair pulling

wc ⇢ 6.1k

part one | part two

The room was bathed in the soft blue glow of the computer monitors. Shalnark lounged lazily on your bed, hands tucked behind his head as he watched you sitting at your computer station, fingers dancing across the keys.

These clandestine visits to your apartment had become almost routine over the past few weeks. On the pretense of trying to deter your cyber vendetta against the Phantom Troupe, Shalnark would show up unannounced. You always let him in with that same inscrutable smile, neither questioning his presence nor revealing the motives driving your actions.

The two of you would then lapse into strange, meandering conversations that veered between charged flirting and genuine philosophical probing about your opposing stances. Shalnark feigned indifference, firing off casual questions in hopes of getting you to reveal why you targeted the Troupe so persistently.

But you seemed to revel in deflecting his efforts, obfuscating with that same amused glint in your eyes. It was an odd game you two played - one that both frustrated and captivated Shalnark in equal measure.

"You really are determined to stay an enigma, aren't you?" Shalnark mused with a slight chuckle, watching the way the screen's glow danced across your features. "Keeping me in the dark must be part of some grand plan."

You flashed him a coy smile over your shoulder. "Now where would be the fun in making things easy for you, Shalnark?"

He laughed again, shaking his head. "Touché. Though I have to wonder how long you intend to carry on with these games before—"

Shalnark's words caught in his throat as his gaze focused on the code rapidly populating your computer screens. His brow furrowed ever so slightly as he recognized the signature strands, the telltale signs that you were hacking into the Troupe's secure networks again.

And you were doing it right in front of him without a shred of guilt or pretense.

Rather than fly into outrage as you seemed to expect, Shalnark merely watched with a sort of calm bemusement as your fingers flew across the keys. He noted the intense focus etched on your delicate features, the slight crease between your brows as you rapidly unspooled the infiltration algorithm.

Only when you sat back with a self-satisfied smirk did Shalnark finally speak up, his tone one of wry impression.

"My, my. Aren't we the overachiever?" He sat up slowly, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. "Gutsy move, pulling a cyberstrike with me sitting right here, ghost."

You seemed utterly unbothered by Shalnark's presence as you breezed through the cyber infiltration. Each stroke of the keyboard was confident, almost taunting in its ease at circumventing the Troupe's security protocols right under his nose.

When you finally leaned back with a satisfied smirk, Shalnark rose from the bed slowly, his movements unhurried but carrying a coiled intensity. Before you realized what was happening, he was looming over you, one hand clamped like a vise around your upper arm.

In a single deft motion, Shalnark wrenched you bodily out of the chair and slammed you down over the desk, scattering keyboards and monitors with a reckless clatter. You gasped at the sudden aggression, but maintained your defiant glare even pinned beneath Shalnark's weight.

He hovered above you, chest heaving with scarcely restrained emotion. For a long moment, the only sound was your mingled breaths - harsh and staccato with friction. Shalnark's expression was unreadable, but his fingers dug almost cruelly into the soft flesh of your arm.

Then, so gradually you didn't register the motion until his shadow consumed your vision, Shalnark drew back his free hand into a white-knuckled fist. You tensed beneath him, awaiting the blow that never fell.

His arm went taut, the tendons and veins standing out in stark relief against the muscle as it trembled with the urge to strike. But something held Shalnark back at the last instant before violence could erupt. Perhaps it was the naked defiance blazing in your eyes, or some indefinable sliver of respect for your audacious spirit.

Slowly, the tension bled from Shalnark's frame as his fist uncurled. Instead, he leaned down until his face was a hair's breadth from yours, heated breaths intermingling in the charged void between you. His eyes bored into yours with an intensity that stole the breath from your lungs.

"Next time you pull a stunt like that," he ground out in a voice laced with menace, "I won't hesitate. Consider this your last warning...ghost."

The endearment twisted with undercurrents of threat and promise. You could only stare back, pinned beneath the full weight of Shalnark's presence. Then, just as abruptly as the confrontation began, he released you with a disdainful shove and stalked away.

You were left to gather your wits amid the wreckage of your workstation, ears still ringing with the phantom echoes of Shalnark's parting words.

a few days later

Word had reached Shalnark that once again, the Phantom Troupe's operations had been disrupted - their secure networks breached and an upcoming rendezvous point leaked. He didn't even need to confirm the culprit this time.

You had defied his final warning.

A muscle ticked in Shalnark's jaw as he paced the confines of his spartan living quarters. Rage warred with bitter frustration and that same nagging sense of respect for your abilities that he couldn't quite extinguish, no matter how much you tormented him.

Part of him had honestly thought that perhaps his show of force last time, that razor-edged glimpse of the consequences you were toying with, might have gotten through your stubbornly defiant exterior. But clearly, you were too entrenched in...whatever personal vendetta drove these endless cyber strikes against his Troupe brothers.

Shalnark came to a halt, nostrils flaring slightly as his internal deliberations reached a conclusion. You'd been warned more than fairly, given ample opportunity to save yourself from retaliation. If you insisted on continuing to impede and undermine the Troupe's enterprise, then you had chosen this path.

It was with a sense of grim finality that Shalnark finally grabbed his gear and headed out, already plotting out the most efficient route back to your apartment building. This time, no hemming or hawing, no staying of violence at the last moment out of some misplaced inkling of respect.

No, when he saw you again, there would be no merciful hesitation. You wanted to challenge the Phantom Troupe? You were about to receive their full, implacable wrath personified.

The trip across town passed in a blur of narrowed focus for the blond hacker. Before he could even properly steel himself, Shalnark was already ascending the dingy stairwell towards your secluded flat. His steps were silent but carried a sense of inevitable momentum.

At your door, he didn't even bother with picking the electronic lock this time. A solid kick from his boot was enough to splinter the aged wood inwards with a concussive bang.

Shalnark strode through the newly-formed entrance with propulsive intent, eyes rapidly sweeping the small living area for any sign of you. When his gaze finally settled on your figure, casually leaning against the kitchen counter in a graphic tee and a pair of lace panties like you'd been awaiting his arrival, the inferno banked behind his stare flared even hotter.

"Hoh..." You regarded him with that same inscrutable half-smirk, utterly unruffled by his intrusive entrance. "I figured you'd be stopping by again sooner rather than la--"

Whatever quipfaded shot you might have intended died on your lips as Shalnark crossed the scant distance separating you in a few purposeful strides. His calloused hand locked like a vice around your throat, the other seizing a fistful of your shirt as he bodily slammed you back against the counter.

Leaning in until his face was mere inches from yours, Shalnark searched your defiant gaze for any trace of fear or contrition. But he found only that same maddening glint of challenge and resolve reflecting back at him.

"Did you really think..." Each word was a softly spoken rasp of menace despite the innocent smile on his face. "That I wouldn't make good on my promise?"

You stared back at him, posture taut but expression unreadable even as his fingers tightened infinitesimally around your windpipe. A fragile silence stretched out, loaded with implications before Shalnark finally exhaled a bemused huff.

"I'm honestly not sure whether to be impressed or insulted by your sheer stupidity, ghost."

Abruptly, he released his crushing grip, allowing you to slump forward slightly as you dragged in a rasping breath. Not giving you a chance to regain your equilibrium, Shalnark clamped one large hand around your bicep in an unforgiving grasp and began propelling you backwards towards the bedroom area.

You tried to dig in your heels, but Shalnark was inexorable in his momentum as he practically frog-marched you through the cramped living room. At the bedroom threshold, he paused just long enough to level you with a look of such glacial intensity it stole the breath from your lungs.

"But one thing's for certain..." His tone had taken on a dangerous lilt of anticipation. "After tonight, you'll finally understand the consequences of your actions."

With that silken promise, Shalnark gave a casual shove, propelling you back onto the unmade bedding as he stalked through the doorway after you.

Shalnark advanced into the bedroom like a panther closing in on its prey. You scrambled back across the rumpled bedding, clutching a pillow defensively to your chest as he loomed over the edge of the mattress.

"Shal--" You tried to formulate a protest or defiant barb, but it withered on your lips as he reached out with agonizing slowness to pry the pillow from your grasp.

The battered cushion fell forgotten to the floor as Shalnark's weight settled over you, knees bracketing your thighs and hands planted on either side of your head. His eyes roamed your features with an impassive intensity that made you want to squirm.

"No more games," he murmured, so close now that his breath disturbed the fine tendrils of hair across your forehead. "No more smokescreens or deflections."

One of his hands drifted up to trail a maddening path along the line of your jaw and neck, thumb brushing your racing pulse point. Shalnark's gaze followed the motion, utterly focused and unwavering.

"Tell me why, ghost," he breathed, the weight of his stare pinning you as surely as his body. "After everything, every warning, every chance I gave you to walk away...why keep antagonizing me? What could possibly be worth this relentless obsession?"

His fingers continued their torturously light exploration, tracing the curve of your collarbone and dipping beneath the neckline of your shirt to toy with the heated skin below. You shivered in spite of yourself, the cradle of his hips pressing you into the mattress.

"What are you so desperate to achieve?" Shalnark's lips brushed the sensitive hollow beneath your ear as he murmured. "Because I can promise you, no endgame is worth the retaliation I'm prepared to unleash."

The words carried an undercurrent of dark promise that sent a shiver down your spine. But rather than incite fear or capitulation, the sense of looming danger only seemed to embolden the reckless fire flickering behind your stare.

Perhaps sensing this, perhaps reveling in it, Shalnark huffed a low chuckle against the fragile skin of your neck. "Even now, you continue to defy me with that fire in your eyes."

His nose traced a scorching path along the line of your throat until his lips were hovering a hairsbreadth from yours. You could feel the heat of his breaths mingling with your own, smell the amalgam of his sandalwood and metal scent.

"I'm a patient man, ghost," Shalnark purred, fingertips toying with the hem of your shirt. "But even my restraint has its...limits."

He punctuated the loaded statement by dipping lower, claiming your lips in a searing, demanding kiss that obliterated whatever trace of coherent resistance you might have clung to. You melted into the scorching velvet of his mouth moving with possessive intensity over yours.

Shalnark's tongue delved deep, stoking the first cinders of a wildfire rapidly raging out of control between your entwined bodies. His hands roamed with increasing insistence, pulling your shirt up to skate calloused palms across the bare skin of your breasts, thumbing at your nipples.

He was everywhere at once - his scent, his deliciously wicked mouth, the hard planes of his body pinning you to the disheveled sheets. You gasped, arching against the firm press of his thigh insinuating itself between your legs as Shalnark's kiss turned almost feral with banked intensity.

There was no more preamble, no banter or verbal feints to mask the undercurrent of primal need and challenge crackling between you. Only the unraveling of that exquisite knot of tension, the collision of two unyielding forces utterly unbridled from their restraints at last.

Shalnark drew back, panting softly as he surveyed you through heavy-lidded eyes. Then, without warning, he gripped the neckline of your shirt and yanked it down with enough force to send the fabric tearing straight down the center. You gasped, the sound melting into a moan as he leaned down to drag his teeth against the delicate skin of your neck, the swell of your breasts.

You writhed beneath him, hands scrabbling for purchase in the short strands of his hair. Shalnark smirked against the hollow of your throat, fingers trailing feather-light down your sides until they hooked into the waistband of your panties.

Without pretense, he shoved the skimpy garment down your legs, leaving you fully bared to his heated gaze. Your skin flushed under the weight of his stare as he sat back on his heels to admire you, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

"Gods, look at you." He breathed the reverential curse as his eyes drank in the sight of your naked, quivering form laid out for his taking.

A low hum of appreciation rumbled in his chest as his palms glided over the supple skin of your inner thighs, nudging them apart to expose the slick folds beneath. Shalnark's eyes took on a predatory gleam, pupils blown wide with unbridled desire.

"So pretty..." He dipped his head, the tip of his nose trailing a maddening path along the apex of your thigh. You whimpered, hips twitching as the first touch of his mouth scorched a path through the slick petals of your cunt.

Shalnark groaned in satisfaction at the flavor bursting on his tongue, his fingers tightening around the flesh of your thighs. Then, his mouth was on you with a ruthless, devouring intensity. He ate you out like a starving man, the wet sounds of his ministrations obscene in the charged silence.

Your back bowed off the sheets as a broken cry tumbled from your lips, hands fisting in the rumpled covers. The world narrowed to the sensation of Shalnark's mouth on you, the rough pads of his fingers digging bruises into the plush give of your flesh.

He lapped at your core like a man possessed, the wet sounds of his efforts punctuated by the occasional groan of pleasure as your taste coated his tongue. The way he ate you out was utterly unhinged, unrestrained and almost frenzied with need.

Your hips twitched beneath the press of his palms, grinding into his face shamelessly as your body chased the mounting pleasure. When the first electric pulses of an orgasm began to spark, you moaned aloud, the sound spurring Shalnark's efforts into an almost desperate cadence.

His tongue flicked against your clit, then swirled and sucked the delicate bundle of nerves with an expertise that had your vision blurring with sparks. It felt as though all the air was being stolen from your lungs, a roaring rush of sound in your ears drowning out the wrecked sounds that poured from your lips.

Then, just when the mounting pressure threatened to burst, the sensation of Shalnark's mouth abruptly withdrew. You were left teetering on the edge, so tantalizingly close to a climax, but denied.

Beneath the hazy sheen of lust, you registered the faint clink of metal and the rustle of fabric. The sound of a zipper coming undone, the creak of leather shifting, and then suddenly Shalnark was looming over you, his shadow consuming your vision.

His lips were glistening with the remnants of your slick, cheeks flushed and eyes burning with barely contained desire. "Not yet, ghost."

His tone held an undercurrent of command that was impossible to ignore. Even as the denial sent a bolt of frustrated lust lancing through you, you were helpless to resist.

You watched, chest heaving and skin tingling, as Shalnark shrugged off his jacket, the garment falling unceremoniously to the floor. A moment later, his shirt followed. Your gaze hungrily traced the chiseled lines of his bare torso, the tapering muscles that spoke to years of conditioning.

When Shalnark reached down, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his pants, you bit your lip, eyes widening as he peeled the final layers away. Your eyes raked over the toned, tanned expanse of his body, lingering on the curly blond patch of hair above his cock, already jutting proudly between his legs.

He was fully erect, the tip of his cock flushed a dark crimson and already leaking precum. Your gaze traced the veins bulging beneath the surface, the impressive length and girth that sent a shiver of anticipation dancing down your spine.

Shalnark's fingers circled the base of his cock, stroking slowly up the shaft until a pearly drop formed at the tip. He hummed, eyes hooded and lips parted as he gazed down at you. "Look at what you've done to me, ghost."

Before you could register his movements, his hand shot out, catching you by the ankle. A startled yelp escaped your lips as he pulled you sharply down the bed, the pillows and sheets bunching around you as Shalnark loomed over you.

He didn’t give you a chance to breath before he flipped you over onto your stomach. Your fingers curled reflexively in the sheets as he nudged your legs apart, settling his hips flush against the curve of your ass.

His cock slotted against the slick folds of your pussy, the hot tip nudging at your entrance. Shalnark exhaled a ragged sigh, hands flexing around your waist. Then, his cock was sinking into you, spreading your cunt open with a delicious friction that had you arching against him.

Shalnark bottomed out, the tip of his cock brushing that spot so deep inside that it drew a ragged gasp from your lips. He groaned, his hold on you tightening. Then, he was withdrawing, only to snap his hips forward and bury himself balls deep in the clutching heat of your pussy.

Your eyes rolled back, a litany of moans pouring from your lips as he began to fuck you with slow, deep thrusts that shook the bedframe. His grip on you tightened, nails digging half-moon indents into the tender flesh.

With each thrust, Shalnark sank into your tight channel deeper and deeper. He filled you up so completely, the feeling of him stretching you out so perfectly that it had your vision blurring. You clutched at the sheets, arching into the press of his cock driving into you with a steady, merciless rhythm.

You were so utterly, perfectly full. Each thrust was calculated, the angle of his cock hitting just the right spot to drive the air from your lungs in a keening moan. You could feel the way his length pulsed inside of you, the twitch of his cock as your walls clenched down.

Sparks danced along your spine, your toes curling into the rumpled sheets as the first waves of another orgasm began to crest. Shalnark seemed to sense the mounting pressure, the way your thighs trembled and back arched, and he sped up his thrusts.

You could hear the soft, ragged sounds spilling from his lips, the wet squelch of his cock plunging into you again and again. The slap of his hips meeting the curves of your ass. His hands, one gripping a bruising handful of your flesh, the other fisting in your hair, wrenching your head back as he rode you harder.

Just as you were teetering on the edge of oblivion, he stopped. Once again, Shalnark drew out the sensation of his cock withdrawing from the tight clutch of your pussy. Once again, he left you teetering on the precipice.

You whined, the sound abruptly halting as Shalnark grabbed a fistful of your hair and forced you upright, his other hand clamping around the front of your throat. The change in angle sent a spike of pleasure arcing through your body, his cock sinking even deeper inside.

"That’s right, ghost. You still haven’t told me..." Shalnark murmured, the words a rasping breath against your ear. His hand tightened around the column of your neck, fingers digging in just enough to restrict your airflow.

You whimpered, the sound catching on a strangled inhale. Shalnark held you like that for a long moment, his cock twitching with the effort of keeping still, buried so deep inside you that the sensation was maddening.

When he spoke, his voice held a razor-edged edge of warning. "So let's try this one last time. Why are you doing this?"

His grip around your throat tightened imperceptibly. Your breath caught, pulse thrumming beneath the vice-like press of his fingers. The threat of suffocation coupled with the relentless sensation of his cock stretching you open had you delirious with want.

"Y-you seriously want to do this now?" You managed to choke out.

Shalnark's answer came in the form of his free hand descending across the fleshy globe of your ass. The sound cracked through the room, a stinging welt immediately blooming across your skin.

The unexpected pain had you gasping, the sound muffled as Shalnark squeezed tighter around your neck. "You want to be difficult?"

Another punishing strike, this one drawing a choked sob from your lips. Shalnark leaned in, pressing his chest against your back as his hips gave a slow, punishing thrust. "I'll beat it out of you, then."

Your eyes rolled back at the sensation of his cock dragging through your walls. He kept his pace excruciatingly slow, each thrust measured and deliberate as his hand came down again and again.

His palm painted a series of crisscrossing welts across the flesh of your ass, each fresh sting punctuated by a shallow gasp. Shalnark groaned, the sound vibrating against the side of your neck as his free hand came up to cup the swell of your breast.

He pinched at the sensitive peak, rolling the bud between his fingers as his other hand continued its relentless assault. Tears of pain and frustration gathered in the corners of your eyes, a thin trickle of drool leaking from the corner of your mouth.

When his palm finally halted, the skin of your ass was on fire. The heat seemed to radiate outwards, enveloping your entire body in a feverish haze. You were barely cognizant of the fact that Shalnark had loosened his hold around your neck.

The oxygen returning to your lungs sent a heady rush surging through your veins. You panted, swaying slightly on your knees as the sensation of his cock fucking you in shallow, infuriatingly slow strokes began to overwhelm you.

"Still not going to tell me, ghost?" Shalnark's voice was laced with a cruel amusement. He seemed to delight in torturing you like this, pushing you to the limits of your endurance.

His thumb dipped into the cleft of your ass, brushing the puckered rim of your hole. You jolted, the sensation sparking something white hot deep in the pit of your stomach. "Mmm, or is this turning you on even more?"

He punctuated the question by circling his thumb around the tight ring, not pressing in, but threatening. A whimper escaped your lips. Shalnark chuckled. "Maybe you'll respond to this better."

Without warning, his thumb breached the tight confines of your hole. The sudden invasion was almost too much, the sensation sending a wave of conflicting emotions crashing over you. Pain, pleasure, and a sense of helplessness that had you moaning.

Shalnark groaned at the way your ass clenched around his thumb, the feeling of his cock plunging deeper into your pussy. "Fuck...that's right, ghost. I've got you right where I want you. So tell me..."

He gave a pointed thrust, burying himself deep and drawing a cry from your lips. His thumb pushed further into the tight heat of your ass, stretching you open. "Why. Are. You. Doing. This?"

Each word was punctuated by a sharp snap of his hips, the motion rocking your entire body. You gasped, writhing on his cock and fingers. Your walls tightened reflexively, a telltale sign that you were dangerously close to another release.

Shalnark's breath was ragged against your ear. He could feel the way you clenched around his cock, the way your body began to tense. He was getting close, too, his balls drawn up tight and a pressure coiling deep inside.

But he wasn't done with you yet. Just as you felt the beginnings of an orgasm start to crash over you, Shalnark's touch vanished. His cock withdrew, leaving you gaping and empty, the sensation so sudden and disorienting that a broken sob tore from your lips.

The next thing you knew, Shalnark had flipped you over onto your back, manhandling you with an effortless strength that would have been surprising if you weren't already so utterly, desperately distracted.

Then, his body was once again settling between your spread legs, his cock nudging at your entrance. But rather than sheathe himself in one smooth stroke as you expected, Shalnark teased his cockhead along the glistening seam of your folds.

"One last chance," he ground out, his gaze searching yours. "Tell me."

You stared up at him through hazy, lust-drunk eyes, the world reduced to the feeling of his cock grinding against your dripping core. "I...I can't... Ohhh god, Shalnark!"

He had taken advantage of the brief moment of distraction to push forward, the thick length of his cock breaching your entrance. But instead of sinking home, Shalnark merely rocked his hips, the head of his cock teasing the sensitive flesh of your walls.

"Yes, you can," he gritted out, jaw clenched. His eyes bore into yours, his expression a mask of barely controlled restraint. "Tell me, and I'll make you cum."

He was so tantalizingly close, but never quite deep enough, his cock only sinking in a few tantalizing inches. The pressure building deep in the pit of your stomach was unbearable. You arched against him, your fingers clawing at his shoulders, the sheets, anything you could grab.

"Shalnark, please..." You weren't even sure what you were begging for, only that you couldn't take the excruciating tension anymore. "Please, fuck me... Please!"

A low growl rumbled in Shalnark's throat as he shifted, bracing his palms on either side of your head. His chest hovered mere inches from yours, his breaths coming in harsh pants.

"Tell. Me." Each word was ground out, the syllables punctuated by a shallow thrust. His cock slid in another agonizing inch, the friction sending a shudder through your entire body.

Your head tipped back against the pillows, lips parted on a soundless cry as Shalnark continued to grind against you, barely sheathing his cock. His fingers were gripping the sheets so tightly you could hear the fabric protesting, the muscles in his arms and neck standing out in sharp relief.

You could tell he was hanging on by a thread. But even through the fog of lust clouding your mind, something made you hesitate. A lingering defiance, the knowledge that to give him what he wanted was to capitulate.

"No," you choked out, the word tumbling from your lips before you could fully process the implication.

Shalnark's eyes flashed with something like triumph and irritation. Then, without pretense, his cock was pushing in all the way, the sensation so sudden and overwhelming that you cried out.

Your fingers scrabbled for purchase against his broad back, nails dragging angry red marks in their wake. Shalnark grunted, bottoming out and grinding his hips against yours. Then, he drew back, only to snap his hips forward and bury himself in the clutching heat of your cunt again.

You could only lie there, writhing beneath him as his cock split you open, his pubes grinding against your clit with each punishing thrust. Shalnark leaned back, grabbing your legs and hooking them over his shoulders, allowing him to sink in even deeper.

His pace was brutal, the slick slap of his hips meeting your ass echoing throughout the room. You could feel the coil tightening inside, the mounting pressure rapidly approaching critical mass.

"Oh fuck...oh gods, please..." You weren't even sure what was tumbling from your lips, your vision blurring with tears and pleasure. Shalnark's breaths were coming in harsh, ragged gasps. He was close, too.

The rhythmic motion of his cock sliding through your walls, the obscene squelch of his thrusts and the heady scent of sex filling the air, it was all too much. You were dizzy with the sensations, your body moving on pure instinct and need. The bed creaked beneath you, the wooden frame groaning as Shalnark's thrusts took on an increasingly frenzied tempo. His hands dug into the soft give of your flesh, fingertips branding bruises into the tender skin.

You could feel yourself cresting, the wave about to break. Just as the pressure was reaching a breaking point, Shalnark pulled out. Again.

You cried out, the sound edged with frustration and despair. Hot tears slipped down your cheeks, the denial so acute and sudden that it was physically painful.

"You're so selfish, ghost." Shalnark's voice was strained, the words punctuated by heavy breaths. His hand closed around the base of his cock, squeezing tightly as he stared down at you. "You won't even tell me the truth."

You blinked, the words registering dimly through the fog of denial. "I'm sorry...I'm sorry..."

Shalnark leaned forward, his body covering yours as he positioned his cock against your entrance. But this time, he didn't thrust in. He just pressed against the slippery folds, the tip of his cock catching on your rim.

"You know what?" he breathed, his voice ragged. "I'll stop. I'll walk out of here and leave you like this, so desperate and needy. You'll never get to cum again."

You shook your head, eyes wide with panic. "No, please! Please, Shalnark!"

His fingers found your chin, tipping your head up so that your gazes locked. His eyes were hard and impassive, the smile on his face utterly devoid of warmth. "I know, ghost. I don’t like it either. But I warned you, didn't I?"

You whimpered, shaking. His threat was an empty one, you could sense it. But the prospect of being left like this, the idea that you might never experience the mind-blowing pleasure of his cock was enough to shatter whatever lingering barriers of pride or defiance you might have clung to.

"Please... I'll tell you...please just let me cum..." You were sobbing openly now, your cheeks streaked with tears.

Shalnark gazed down at you, his expression softening. Without warning, he plunged his cock deep inside, the sensation so intense and unexpected that you nearly screamed.

"I don't need you to tell me, ghost." He was breathing hard, his face inches from yours. His hand found your hip, guiding your motions as you rocked against him, impaling yourself on his cock.

"I already know," Shalnark said, his gaze searing into yours. "I've known for a long time, actually."

"Then why--"

"Because I wanted you to admit it to me." He silenced the question with a punishing thrust, the action driving the air from your lungs.

His words were punctuated by another snap of his hips, the motion shaking the entire bed. You clutched at his shoulders, the room spinning around you. "And I wanted to punish you for keeping secrets. Especially such a stupid one."

"Shalnark...oh gods, yes! Right there, please, please..." You were babbling, the words pouring out unbidden as he continued to fuck you. His thrusts were measured, calculated, each one striking just the right spot to drive the air from your lungs.

Shalnark huffed a breathless laugh. "Do you think you deserve to cum after all the trouble you've caused me, ghost?"

You shook your head, eyes screwed shut against the overwhelming onslaught of sensation. His fingers found your chin, forcing your gaze up to meet his.

"Look at me."

His tone was so authoritative, the words brooking no argument. You did as you were told, blinking up at him through tear-stained lashes. Shalnark's eyes were glazed with a feverish intensity, his pupils blown wide with desire.

"God, you’re so beautiful when you cry," he murmured, the words a ragged whisper against your lips. Then, his mouth was claiming yours, his tongue sliding against your own.

The kiss was bruising, all consuming. You were drowning in the taste of him, the feeling of his body on yours. Your hands roamed over his broad back, raking across the muscles as he continued to fuck you.

He swallowed down the cries tumbling from your lips, drinking in the broken, desperate sounds like a man parched. His cock sank into the clutching heat of your pussy, each stroke drawing a fresh wave of pleasure from your aching body.

Shalnark's teeth dragged across the soft skin of your lower lip, his tongue laving the sting away. His palm pressed into the mattress, bracing his weight as he picked up the pace. He fucked you with a singular purpose, his entire being focused on drawing out your pleasure and his own.

You clung to him, the room spinning around you as your impending release coiled tighter and tighter, the pressure threatening to burst at any moment. Then, with a final punishing thrust, the dam finally broke.

Your eyes rolled back, a keening wail escaping your lips as your orgasm crashed over you. A powerful gush of hot, fragrant liquid sprayed from your cunt, coating the sheets, Shalnark's thighs, and the base of his cock.

Shalnark groaned, his hips stuttering as your walls clenched around him, the feeling of your cum slicking the way as he fucked you through the peak of your release. His fingers dug into your hip, dragging you against him as he drove into you again and again.

"Gods, that's it. Squirt for me, ghost." He grunted, his words punctuated by heavy breaths. His entire body was trembling, the tension straining at the breaking point. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum...cum so hard..."

Your walls tightened reflexively around him, milking the last of his self-control. With a ragged cry, Shalnark buried his cock as deep as he could, his balls drawing up tight as the first pulse of his release shot through him.

You moaned, the sound muffled against the sweat-slick skin of his neck as Shalnark emptied himself into you, the feeling of his cum coating your walls sparking another wave of pleasure.

His hips gave a series of shallow thrusts, each motion punctuated by a soft grunt and another twitch of his cock as he pumped you full. His face was buried against the hollow of your throat, lips moving against the skin.

"...fuck, that's good..." he murmured, the words little more than a rumble against your chest.

When the last dregs of his orgasm faded, Shalnark lifted his head, his gaze searching yours. He exhaled a soft laugh, his hand coming up to trace the curve of your jaw.

"You crazy, sexy girl. You did all this...for fun, didn’t you?"

A lazy, sated smile spread across your lips. You hummed softly in affirmation, nuzzling against the gentle press of his palm.

"You're a menace," Shalnark chided. There was no heat behind the words, however. If anything, he seemed almost...impressed. "Fucking insane. What am I going to do with you?"

"Well, for starters..." You stretched languidly against him, arching your back and savoring the way his softening cock shifted inside of you.

Shalnark's expression went momentarily blank, his gaze unfocused. Then, his eyes slid shut, a groan rumbling in his chest.

"Ohhh fuck... You're insatiable." He rolled his hips slowly against yours, drawing a gasp from your lips. "I don't think you're capable of behaving yourself, are you, ghost?"

You could feel his cock twitch inside of you, stirring to life once more. Your grin widened, eyes glittering with a challenge. "Not really, no."

"Hmm, I guess I’ll have to fuck that bratty attitude out of you," Shalnark murmured, his voice a low purr against the shell of your ear.

He pulled back, his eyes finding yours. They held a heated intensity, the promise of pleasure and punishment. A wicked smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, and you felt a delicious shiver dance down your spine.

"I warned you, didn't I?"

[rp-asks-crack-starters]

Why can't you see, you're hurting me too.

Sender is frustrated that the receiver does not take care of themselves. TW: mentions of hurt, injures, self destructive behavior

"Why do you keep doing this to yourself? To us? I’m at my breaking point, watching you destroy yourself. It’s like you’re giving up, and it’s tearing me apart!"

"Every time I see you limping around, it breaks my heart. Why can't you just follow the doctor's orders?"

"I’m here, fighting for you every single day, and it feels like you’re not even trying! Do you know how much that hurts? It’s like you’ve given up on yourself!!"

"How many times do I have to beg you to take your medicine on time? Do you think I enjoy watching you suffer like this?"

"Pretending you're fine doesn't fool me. I see the pain in your eyes. Why can't you just admit you need help?"

"Your recklessness is driving me insane. One day, you're going to push too far, and then what? Have you thought about how that would affect me?"

"Do you know how infuriating it is to feel this powerless? To watch you spiral out of control and refuse any lifeline I throw you? You’re not just hurting yourself, you’re hurting me too!"

"A little cough? You were bedridden for a week last time! I'm terrified of losing you because you refuse to take care of yourself. Please, just this once, listen to me."

"Left alone to what? Drown in your misery? I can't watch you waste away. You're too important to me. Please, let me help you find a way out of this darkness."

"You've been coughing up blood and you still refuse to see a doctor? Are you trying to make me lose my mind with worry? This isn't something you can just ignore!"

"Every time you push me away, it feels like a slap in the face. I’m here because I care, but your rejection is breaking me."

"I can’t keep picking up the pieces when you shatter yourself over and over. It’s like you’re on a mission to self-destruct, and you don’t care about the collateral damage, about me!"

"That’s a lie and you know it. We both know it. You’re spiraling and I’m right here, begging you to let me in."

[shocymer]

Ref:rain

"He was young and reckless, but loving you is another exception. After all this time refrained his feelings that spilled over in the midst of rain, he only wished for you to return his favor."

Pairing : Seonghwa x f! reader

Word counts : 3,02k

Contents & warnings : smut mdni! , hurt/comfort, slowburns, bestfriend to lovers, TW! mention of abused, soft dom! seonghwa, gentle sex, oral (receiving), multiple orgasm, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, after care.

He is the nostalgic night, the comfort of your frantic mind, the steady shelter under the pouring rain, the warmth in the middle of snow storm, and the salvation of your helpless soul.

You know it’s too much to describe him that way, but reality never proves you wrong. Living in the countryside on secluded area with your parents’ unstable marriage is definitely driving you insane. But, there’s always something that brings the joy whenever you feels his presence. It’s him Park Seonghwa.

Best friend? No. Just friends? Both of you are knowing each other for almost the rest of your life the second you’ve started walking on the ground. Childhood sweetheart? Yeah, maybe that’s the right thing to called your friendship status with him.

Growing up with him made you realize that the dynamic between you two is a bit weird, it’s like 'close but not that close' relationship. He know what’s happen in your life and so did you, but you’re not shared everything to each other. Just like when he’ll come to comfort you that bawling your eyes out in the middle of the night on the hill back of your house. He just sitting next to you, patting your back gently until your crying subsided. Didn’t ask a single word until you wanted to tell him everything what you’ve been through.

Or he will treat your wounds in silence, only giving you one or two questions at the most just to divert his anger.

“Again?” Furrowed his eyebrows while he dabbed your wounds with the cotton soaked in antiseptic.

You only nodded as you wincing in pain everytime it touches your grazed skin. He really hate to see you like that, his jaw tighten the entire time he treated you. Well, there’s nothing you can do, you’re still a minor and still live under those parents of yours, unless avoiding your abusive father is the only option you’ll take.

He tucked a few strands of hair that fall over your face behind your ears, “It’s done. I’ll help to treat it again tomorrow, just come to me okay?” His face looked somber when you met his eyes. You sure he felt frustrated too because this doesn’t happen once or twice.

“Yeah.. Thanks Hwa.” You gave him a reassuring smile, as if to say everything was fine.

But it’s all different at school, you almost never talk to each other. Being in different class and different circles of friends, make it less likely for you to cross paths with him. Well, he's quite famous. How could he not be, he's tall, handsome, dance genius, and also quite smart academically. On top of that his personality makes him liked by a lot of his friends including you.

Sometimes he stole glances at your class, looking for your figure who is immersed in reading your favorite literature book. Only to make sure you’re fine after seeing your smiley face surrounded by your friends. He felt relieve, there’s nothing to worry about.

⁠✧

“Oh.. hi Mrs. Park, is Seonghwa home? ” A little surprised, didn't expect it to be his mother who opened the door after you were knocking for a few times.

“Yes, come in sweetie,” she invited you in, giving you a warm smile that reminds you how it’s exactly like Seonghwa’s. You stepped slowly, feeling awkward due to sudden meet with her. It’s been a long time since you visited his house, you believed it’s when you’re still in the middle school. Then both of you only met outside all the time.

After exchanged small talk, she pointed towards the stairs. “By the way, just go to his room, he’s been there since morning. I’ll make some snacks for you.” She winked then proceed to leave you to the kitchen. You only shook your head after looking at what was his mother did. But at least you feel happy that you’re so warmly accepted here unlike in your own home.

You climbed the stairs carefully before knocking on his door. “Seonghwa.. I’ts me.” Tapping your foot as you waiting for him, but no answer heard from inside. You decided to open his door only to find him sleeping peacefully with a headphone still intact to his ears. Some books were open, scattered around him. He must be tired studying all the day.

You crouched down, bringing your head closer to the same level of his headphone, wanting to hear what song that was playing. Ah, it’s the same song you listened together a few years ago. As soon as you grasp it, you hummed the melody, bopping your head a little to the left and right.

Until you turned towards him, he’d been watching you for who knows how long it is. He shifted his headphone slightly, blinking for a few times still half asleep. His fingertips slowly caress the plastered wound on your cheeks, looking at it closely with a hurt stare.

“Seonghwa?” Your voice brought him to his sense. He immediately sat on the bed, patting to his side, gestured you to sit next to him.

“I’m sorry, I overslept.” He said, while his hand is busy reaching for something inside the drawer.

Your eyes fell back to the pile of his books. “It’s okay hwa.”

Suddenly he removed your band-aid gently, then applying a thin layer of the ointment on top of your wound. His face is so close to you, make you staring to his long lashes every time he blinked. The way he showed his earnest expression was fascinated you, to the point you didn’t hear what was he said.

“Are you there?” He’s still focused treating your wound with patience.

You shook your head slightly, “Uhm sorry, can you repeat it again?”

“Well, since the graduation is near, I decided to go to college.”

Your heart dropped after hearing that. It means he’ll moved out to the city and you won’t see him for a while, leaving you alone in this small town. But of course, you’re happy for him. He got so much potential to waste if he stayed here for too long.

“You’re going too, right?” His gaze shifted into your eyes, as if expecting a reaction from you.

“I- I still think about that. I’m not sure, what I’m gonna do.” On the contrary, you know exactly what you will do. Your parents have already planned for your future, forcing you to continue their own business. You really hate being stuck with them even though you’re just turning into adult a few weeks ago.

“All.. done. I hope it won’t leave a scar.”

His words snap you back. Lowered your head, you felt ashamed that he always be by your side whenever you’re in difficult times. “Once again, thank you hwa. I wish I can return your favor.”

He smiled, tucked your loose hair behind your ears. “You don’t need too.” But then he paused for a second like there’s something clicking on his mind.

“Well actually, I’ll ask about that one day. So,” he touched your chin, “be prepared for that.”

You chuckled before slap his hand playfully, “Sure, I’ll get ready from now on.”

Both of you spent the rest of weeks together before he left. Starting from the graduation day, then talking about this and that in his room all night, and hanging out at the usual favorite places just like today. He really enjoyed your accompany, the way you dressed prettily, walking at the downtown side by side and seeing you smile at him sweetly. He’s struggling to keep the urge not to hold your empty hands that swing back and forth on your every steps. Hoping the time will pass slowly, so he won’t leave you too soon.

He decided to stop by the cafe, after spending a day looking for the things he needed with you. Sitting opposite each other at the same table, made him keep looking at your presence. He didn’t realize since when his feelings grew this big for you.

As soon as the order served, he noticed that you stirred the drink long enough, battling with your own self whether you should tell him about this matter or not.

He stopped your hand from doing it, “say, there’s something on your mind?”

His worried look breaking your defense, you took a deep breath before you tell him the truth. “I will get married”

If previously he wished for the time would pass slowly, but for now the time is completely stopped. Loud silence burst into his ear while his mind is going blank. “What?” Is the only word that left from his mouth.

“I eventually will get married, my parents told me to.” You clarified.

Right it’s always her parents, are they finally going crazy or something? She’s still young and what the fuck she’d accepted their ridiculous request gladly. He kept all of his thought, afraid of hurting you even more if he said it out loud. He clicked his tongue trying to suppress his anger. “Then, what was your exact motivation to agree with them just like that?”

“So I can get out of my house.” You took a quick glance at him, “and maybe I’ll love him as the time goes by.”

His eyes pierced through into yours that remaining unfazed. “Okay then good for you.” he’s leaning to the chair as if nothing happen, after he catch your slightly disappointment look towards his remark. He thought, there’s no point to carry on the conversation if it was your own will too.

Both of you were silent like there’s no suitable words needed to say. On the other hand, Seonghwa is still contemplating, blaming himself why he only could repair the damage but unable prevent it to happen. He’s totally mad, to the point taking his shopping bags roughly in one swoop.

“Let’s wrap it out for today, I’m tired.”

⁠✧

On the day of his departure, you thought he’ll give you a warm hug or few words as farewell. Unfortunately, what you’ve imagined never happen. He only gave you a faint smile while sitting in his car, before rolled up the door glass and drove away. It was the beginning that you feel he’s distancing himself from you.

He still responded your texts in the first months, but over the time the intensity slowly decreased. Once he replied to your text no sooner than two weeks, only contained with a short reasoning, “sorry, been busy.” It must be rough in the first year of the college, so you tried to understand.

Until you send him one about your wedding day, telling him the place and the date of events. And a month passed, there’s no single replied come from him. Your anxiety skyrocketed in a week before the wedding day, you kept checking your phone waiting for his answer. To the point you’re hating yourself that you still need him just to calm yourself down. You felt empty, all the feelings of relieved thinking that you’ll be free just disappeared. It's enough, you definitely didn’t want this.

Few hours before the wedding started, you’ve done wearing your dress and make up. There’s no time left, you grabbed the necessary things as much as you can, then immediately stormed out of your house after you told your family that you need some time alone in your room.

You keep walking aimlessly with no thoughts, ignoring people gaze to the runaway bride. Didn’t even know how far you’ve gone and just realize the rain is pouring hard ever since. Your feet ache, blistered by the heels, you can’t drag yourself anymore due to how heavy your dress soaked in the rain.

You sat down on the side of road, the tears blending in with every raindrops fall onto you. What have I done? What if I rejected them since the beginning? And most importantly, What if I patiently wait for Seonghwa a little bit longer? The thoughts of losing him feared you the most. The pain is not only on the back of your feet, but now it’s spreading into your heart. It feels suffocated that you love him truly.

A pair of black leather shoes stopped in front of you, suddenly you didn't feel the rain hitting your body. You looked up and found Seonghwa holding an umbrella. His suit is drenched despite being under it. You proceed to stand on your feet, “You here.. you finally here.” The overwhelmed feeling is breaking you down, throwing out your weak fist on top of his chest, for several times. “Where have you been Hwa.. I need you, I- can’t do this”

He didn’t budge at all still covering you from the rain. Letting you to vent out all of your burden. He brought the palm of his hands towards your cheek, caressing it gently before pulled you into the kiss. He missed you so bad, until you could feel his warm tears rolling down touched your skin. He pulled out from the kiss, pressing his forehead to yours.

His reddening eyes staring deep down into your own, he sighed before closing his eyes. “First, I’m such a coward. I can’t stand you with someone else. I’m so sorry for acting so childish.” He letting out the same frustrations as you feel. Then he open his eyes, continuing his words, “I’ve always love you, from the beginning till now”

Putting your hands to the back of his neck, you pulled him closer, returning the kiss. Pouring out all of your feelings into it, hoping he’ll catch that you feel the same. I do, I love you too Park Seonghwa.

⁠✧

Warm. That’s what you feel right now. He’s behind you, wiped your back with lukewarm water after peeled off your soaked dress. Placing kisses on the side of your neck, down to your shoulder. While his another hand teasing your clit. You can’t keep your legs still due to tingling sensation on your core, splashing the water all over the floor.

It’s more than half an hour he continued to tease you in the bathtub, causing you to reach the orgasm over and over. You hold his hand, hoping he’ll stop. But it only made him flicked his fingers even faster. “Hwa.. enough..” You’ve said this for who knows how many times it is.

Pressing his lips to your ears, he letting out his honey voice softly, “Hm.. not yet.” He tugged your earlobe between his teeth, before pushing his fingers deeper into you. You gasped as it spread open your inside, then it curled up hitting your spot. Your body shaking violently, gripping on the side of the tub as you riding down the orgasm.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” He showers you compliments every time you came undone, while kissing the back of your neck.

He decided to carry you into his arms, then lay you down on the bed slowly, starting to kiss your forehead, down to your eyes, then to your pretty lips gently as if it’s too fragile. His hand roaming around to tease your nipple by pinching it a little.

Then he’s going down, holding your thigh open while his tongue busy exploring your slicked fold. Licking it up and down, devouring the spilled juice. He looked up, eyes fixed to your face, anticipating for every expression you made. He’ll suck hard on your clit, only to make you moaning his name in pleasure.

After being satisfied with it, he sit on his knee right under you. Stroking his hard member for few times till throwing his head back as he drowning in sensation. Your inside is twitching, looking at the way his cock throbbing hard between his fingers plus those scrumptious jaw of his.

Your fingertips brushed to his knee, begging for his attention. “Seonghwa..” He turned back to you, giving you a mischievous look “Hmm?”

“Please..” Squirming your legs, you trying to scoot over him desperately. Only wanting his tip slightly to touch your swollen cunt.

He moved back a little, “Say it clearly, I don’t get what you really want.”

“I want your dick inside of me, please.”

He immediately put it into you. Bringing his hand to intertwined with yours as soon as he saw you flinched cause of the first thrust. After you feel comfortable enough, he started moving his hips in steady pace.

He kept the eye contact while pressing the forehead against each other, occasionally planting soft kisses all over your face. You could feel he’s pulsing inside of you, gradually thrusting his hard member even faster. The feelings become unbearable, as he pushed your lower stomach with one hand while the other one gripping onto your waist to keep it stay still.

You moan out incoherent mess, reaching for your own climax. Can’t control your shuddering body as you feel his hot seeds filled you up, shooting all his load inside. He’s grinding for a few times, before pulled it out, causing his cum leaked, dripping down from your pussy. He scoop it out with his index finger then pushing it back in. “Would be a shame if it’s going wasted, right?” Throwing out rhetorical question, while bringing his finger towards your mouth to let you know how he taste like.

Now you snuggle up with him, placing your head on his chest. You can feel his heart beating rapidly, makes you think it’s your own. His fingers played with your hair, caressing it or twirling it around delicately. The two of you, spending the time together in this warm hotel room while the rainstorm outside never stopped. Suddenly his voice breaking the silence, “So, I want you to return my favor.”

You looked up to him, “Tell me how?”

He swept your hair to the side then placing a kiss on top of your head. “Will you spend the rest of your life with me?”

Your tears fall in instant, still can’t believe the feelings are mutual. You know he always there, he always save you, and you always love him from the deepest of your heart. You nodded,

“Yes, I will.”

[ghostlykeyes]

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

HEARTSTEEL KAYN: HEADCANONS ♡ TW : Drug mentions/Usage ♡ TW: Food mentions ♡ No pairings/ not reader-insert

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

KAYN 

Ever since joining Heartsteel, Kayn's 'Rhaast' outbursts have lessened in frequency and severity. Of course, his alter-ego makes regular appearances, but being with a group that encourages and accepts him rather than holds him back and tries to get him under control has made it so that Kayn feels less need to express his feelings in such an explosive, reckless way. Of course, he'll never admit that his newfound friends are the reason for his recent (very, VERY slight) stability.

Kayn is extremely choosy with his jewelry. He fronts like he doesn't want to wear "cheap, lame shit"—but actually, he just reacts to most metals. If he doesn't check to make sure his earrings are hypoallergenic, he ends up with a massive rash. Why the excuse? He is NOT about to admit he has sensitive skin.

Probably not a surprise, but Kayn breaks his phone CONSTANTLY. With all his reckless antics, it's rare for a new phone to last him more than a few months. The silver lining is that he at least has his emergency contacts (the Heartsteel members, of course) memorized from entering them into his contacts list so often.

Kayn also has a burner phone he uses for Rhaast.

Maybe you'd expect Kayn to have an enormous rager for his birthday, but the truth is, he doesn't actually like that many people. Instead he invites a handful of his actual friends to the shared Heartsteel apartment for a joint Halloween/birthday party. Costumes mandatory, noise complaints expected. Kayn will tell you to your face if he thinks your costume is stupid.

Kayn's got a lucky guitar pick. Somehow, he’s never lost it.

Wherever Kayn goes, property damage often follows. For Heartsteel's sake, he's cleaned up his act a tiny bit, mostly because he's scared of respects Yone, who gets pissed whenever Kayn breaks too much shit. But come on, you can't deny a man all of life's simple pleasures—you gotta let him graffiti the side of a water tower every once in awhile, or blow up the occasional car.

Notorious for social media rampages, Kayn's been banned from using the Heartsteel twitter. (The last straw was him using the account to threaten a member of his old band. Apparently, Alune didn't think "I'LL FUKKIN DOXX U LOL" an appropriate use of the official twitter account.) He's still semi-active on his personal accounts, but only in sporadic bursts.

Kayn knows how to tie a knot in a cherry stem with his tongue.

Like most rockstars, Kayn dabbles in cocaine. His drug use is pretty limited, though, mostly because he doesn't really need drugs to be high-energy and unhinged. When clips of his erratic behavior surface or Kayn goes on a twitter rampage, newer fans often speculate about Kayn being on drugs. Veteran Heartbeats know that he’s just Like That, though. 

Kayn says he doesn't have a favorite bandmate. (He does. It's Ezreal.)

A lot of the time, Kayn has to be reminded to eat. When he's busy writing songs or hanging out with the band, stopping for a bite never crosses his mind. Thankfully, Sett's on top of his meal schedule (gotta hit those macros!) so he'll remind Kayn that lunch is a Thing That Exists.

Kayn spends a ridiculous amount of time on his nails. Cuticles? Trimmed. Polish? Immaculate, and always black or burgundy. Topcoat? Applied and glass-smooth. Of course he'll deny that his nail routine is so precise because it doesn't fit his devil-may-care image, but come on. Chipped OPI and hangnails? Couldn't be him.

Kayn hates nothing more than the passenger seat. Let him drive! Yes, he knows that he's gotten two speeding tickets in the past three months. Yes, he's completely aware that K'sante got violently carsick the last time Kayn drove everyone to Taco Bell. He does not care. He will NEVER care. Driving is fun and driving recklessly is really fun.

You won't catch Kayn in a salon. He dyes and cuts his own hair in his bathroom. (How is it still so perfect?!)

Kayn is way too eager to help Aphelios pull pranks on people. Unfortunately, he can dish it out, but he can't take it. A prank on Kayn has a 50/50 chance of putting him in a sour, bitchy mood for the next hour.

Of all the band members, Kayn's the one that spends the most time alone. He doesn't have many friends outside Heartsteel. And, even though he knows his band has his back and he appreciates them, he needs frequent social breaks.

Kayn's the ultimate night owl. It's rare for him to go to bed before 4 AM. Despite this, he's always up before ten. Maybe it's Yone's rigorous recording schedule that gets him up. Maybe he's so high-energy, his body can't stand staying still for more than six hours. Maybe, though, it's just all the Monster energy drinks.

Consider it a sign that he likes you if Kayn spam-texts you. If he doesn't, he won't even bother responding. (But, if he suddenly stops texting you out of the blue? Don't worry. He probably broke his phone. Again.)

[saey707]

i just saw that you are accepting requests, so can i share this scenario with you? 🥺

could you write some headcanons, or even create some discord conversations, with hearsteel!kayn and K/DA!reader? — them writing songs together or updating each other on news about them or anything ! 🥹

✿ Prompt: A day in with a rockstar/popstar! ✿

♡ champion focus: kayn ♡ tw: none! ♡ Gender-neutral reader

Author's Note: Hiii! Thanks for requesting this scenario! It was super fun to write during work lol (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟThis one is a bit more on the platonic side, because I wasn't sure if you wanted them to be lovers- But please interpret this however you wish! Hope you enjoy these little headcanons!

There is an unspoken divide between the Blades and Heartbeats, which makes it difficult for you and Kayn to be seen together in the public eye without a small degree of scrutiny.

Of course, you'll mention one another in interviews sometimes when one or the other is brought up, but it's generally best to keep talking about each other to a minimum when possible!

In a way, it sort of feels like loving someone from enemy lines... Except you're not enemies! The fans just pit Heartsteel and K/DA against one another, despite them not being comparable in terms of talent and prestige!

Because of this fan-created conflict, you and Kayn generally have to spend time with one another in privacy, which usually involves texting, Discord calls, and sneaking into one another's studio spaces!

The only times you can publicly post photos of each other are on birthdays and award show events. The rest of your shared collection is usually kept secret; Something just between you, Kayn, and the trusted members of your group who you know won't leak them (definitely not Aphelios...).

Your meet-ups usually occur when neither of you are working, touring, or doing guest appearances- So they are quite infrequent. Usually, one person will bring food for both of you- It's just your shared etiquette!

When it comes to sneaking out to meet in person, the two of you generally try to stay inside. But that won't stop Kayn from going out with you at night to the more discreet places around the city!

Rule number one of sneaking out together: Don't let Kayn drive. The chance of Kayn getting potentially arrested for reckless driving is always there- It is bound to happen at one point or another if he drives. Besides, you'll be gripping onto your seat for dear life if he's the driver!

And yes, Kayn does get annoyed when you don't let him drive. But on the bright side, he gets to control all the music! You can expect him to embarrass you by playing songs from your solo era under Thresh Records~

Indoor activities generally include multiplayer gaming (He always loses in Mario Kart and Super Smash because he's too reckless...), ordering way too much food that is way too bad for you two, teaching one another new dance moves you picked up, and songwriting sessions!

Songwriting sessions usually don't fare well between the two of you, especially with how different your sounds are, but you are willing to give one another constructive criticism!

Warning: Kayn does not handle constructive criticism well. Either way, he is fully convinced all of his ideas are pure platinum!

Definitely loves to scroll socials with you on Discord calls; One person will usually stream and you two spend a night invested in all the drama and rumors people spread about you two! What's the point of being outraged at them? They're unavoidable and frankly, it's kinda funny seeing people so torn!

[fletcherwilbury]

@sicktember Day 28: "I should have stayed home..."

Warning for Medication mention, illness, motion sickness, vomiting, reckless driving

[nenelonomh]

get addicted to real dopamine

TW: mention of self-harm

dopamine is a neurotransmitter that plays a significant role in our brain's reward system, associated with feelings of pleasure and satisfaction. it is released during enjoyable activities like eating, exercise, and social interactions, reinforcing behaviours that are essential for survival. however, the term "addiction" typically refers to compulsive engagement in rewarding stimuli despite adverse consequences.

some examples of these consequential behaviours include substance abuse, reckless driving, unsafe sex, self-harm, neglecting health, overeating, and poor financial decisions.

the best way to break free from such harmful behaviours is to replace your negative habits with positive ones. finding healthy alternatives that fulfil the same needs as harmful behaviour, and seeking professional help if needed

for further reading, click the links below. ray family therapy, breaking bad habits reimagine, understanding harmful habits: the psychology behind our actions

but that's not what this post is about. i just felt the need to touch on it, since it is a huge positive of being addicted to real dopamine.

to experience the positive effects of dopamine naturally, you can engage in activities that promote its healthy levels, such as:

regular exercise: physical activity is known to boost dopamine levels and improve mood. during exercise, especially when it's challenging yet achievable, the brain's reward centre, particularly the nucleus accumbens, releases dopamine. this release is part of the brain's reward system, which is being activated during pleasurable activities, reinforcing behaviours that are beneficial for survival and well-being.

the release of dopamine during exercise contributes to feelings of happiness and accomplishment (improved mood). it also contributes to enhanced memory, attention and problem-solving skills, stress reduction, and better motor performance.

balanced diet: dopamine is produced from amino acids, particularly tyrosine and phenylalanine, which are found in protein-rich foods. consuming a diet that includes adequate protein ensures that your body has the necessary building blocks to produce dopamine.

benefits of dopamine from a balanced diet include enhanced mood, improved cognitive function, increased motivation, and regulation of movement. dopamine is involved in the brain's reward system, which motivates us to repeat behaviours that are pleasurable or beneficial (increased motivation). it is important for motor control, so proper levels can help with coordination and movement.

adequate sleep: quality sleep is crucial for regulating neurotransmitter levels, including dopamine. it helps to maintain the sensitivity and function of dopamine receptors. sleep deprivation can lead to a decrease in dopamine D2 receptors, which are associated with arousal and reward.

dopamine is involved in regulating the circadian rhythm, our internal body clock that dictates when we feel awake and when we feel sleepy. adequate sleep helps keep this rhythm consistent, which in turn supports healthy dopamine levels.

adequate dopamine levels contribute to a state of alertness and wakefulness during the day. sufficient sleep can help regulate the stress response, which is partly mediated by dopamine.

mindfulness and meditation: these practices can increase dopamine levels and improve focus and concentration. additionally, they can enhance the efficiency of brain pathways that process sensory information, which may lead to increased dopamine release.

higher dopamine levels can lead to feelings of calmness and contentment, improving overall mood. regular mindfulness practice can help maintain a positive balance of neurotransmitters, including dopamine, which can reduce stress. by increasing dopamine, meditation can help regulate emotions, leading to better mental health outcomes.

learning new skills: the process of learning can increase dopamine production, as it's associated with reward and motivation. this reward system encourages the continuation of learning and skill development.

new experiences, such as learning new skills, can reset key brain circuits, enhancing the ability to learn and adapt to new situations. activating dopamine receipts through learning can lead to improved cognitive flexibility and the ability to switch between tasks or thoughts more easily.

also, releasing dopamine due to learning new skills contributes to a positive mood, making learning an enjoyable way to regulate emotions.

in summary, these operations can stimulate healthy dopamine release, which has so many positive benefits. it's a natural and rewarding way to promote personal growth and mental health.

for further reading on the topic of healthy dopamine release, see the links below: medical news today, how does dopamine affect the body? healthline, how does dopamine affect the body? very well health, what is dopamine? cdc, about adverse childhood experiences healthline, 10 best ways to increase dopamine levels naturally bbc, learn something new to boost your brain psychology today, dopamine's role in learning and memory

i hope today's post was helpful. ❤️ nene

(photo credit: pinterest)

[lewkwoodnco]

Hii I wanted to request Anthony Lockwood×fem!reader with the song "How you get the girl." With them being friends and her being there when he opened the agency. All of them are on a case, and she almost gets ghost touched, so the drive home is very intense, then Lockwood gets mad at her for being reckless, she doesn't want to argue with him so she just goes to sleep crying, the next week Lockwood avoids her, and he sees a nightmare about her dying, so he pushes her even further away. She thinks that he is in love with Lucy because he is avoiding her and spending more time with Lucy. So she leaves the agency, and Anthony doesn't stop her because he thinks he is doing the right thing for her. Lucy and George miss the reader because they're very good friends, so they persuade Lockwood to tell the reader how he feels and bring her back, but Lockwood doesn't listen because he thinks it's for the better. Meanwhile, the reader gets very depressed because she misses them. After months of missing them, she can't do it anymore and tries to drown herself, but Lucy and George find her, so she gets angry at them and leaves. Lucy and George tell everything to Lockwood, who can't do it anymore. So he goes to the reader's house to confess and get her back.

How You Get the Girl - Lockwood x Reader

A/N: wooooo I’ve taken a long break from angst and this fic scratched all my itches hheheheh and in honour of 1989 TV!!! TW brief suicidal mentions but I try not to go into much detail, and goodnight god I need to sleeeeep wc: 4.8k

The four of them were in a cemetery, tasked to tackle three confirmed Lurkers. They were grateful it wasn't more, what with only half of them having decent Sight, but she was starting to feel bored, prodding the pebbles in the soil like some makeshift game, penned inside her iron chains near the gate. Lucy was also inside a different set of chains, but hers was inside the cemetery, where all the action was, and where she could somewhat help to look for the Sources. She had been more than ready to be the one standing nearer to the gate, but she was better at scaling walls so it was only logical to have her be the one inside in case...in case something went wrong with the gate.

Still, if George's yelling was any indication, they'd just found the second source, so it wouldn't be much longer now. They'd find the last source, pack up, and leave this dimly lit place which made her stomach churn.

"Where's the last one? I don't -" Lucy's scream tore into the night sky, cutting Lockwood off. She nearly fell over her rapier as she stumbled to her feet, hands growing clammy as she squinted through the cemetery's fog. She had never heard Lucy scream, let alone one filled with so much terror. Her mouth felt like rubber as she listened for something, anything, but was deafened by her heart pounding in her ears. Nothing. It was eerily quiet, as if none of them were there. She called out to her friends. Still nothing. She tried not to think about the last time Lockwood had been this quiet on a case. Turns out, he wasn't quite as chatty when bleeding out from a gunshot wound. Something similar must have happened now. His knees were probably buckling under himself right now, exhaling his last breath, as she stayed behind her chains like a coward. She heard a forlorn whisper - her own, even though she didn't register herself speaking.

"Lockwood. Lockwood?"

He was dead. She didn't know why, or how, but in that moment she knew for a fact that he was dead, or dying, and no one could bear to tell her. Sod the chains.

She tentatively stepped out of the circle, swallowing as her nausea increased tenfold. The crunch of the gravel beneath her boots seemed too loud for a night as quiet as this. The silence emanating solidified with every step she took, until the absence began to feel like something tangible. Her thoughts were running ahead of her, taunting her, preparing her for the worst sight imaginable. George with his head smashed upon? Lucy with her throat slashed? Lockwood, impaled on his own rapier?

She felt a prickling at the back of her neck, the kind that comes when a Visitor is too close. She lashed behind herself clumsily, rapier suddenly as bulky and unfamiliar as it was years back. She’d been in far more life-threatening situations, and yet now was the time she chose to have all her skills fly out of the window.

She felt a harsh jerk at her left elbow, and for the second time that night, she had an unpleasant swooping sensation of uncertainty twist her stomach. Fire spluttered inches from her face and she flinched, bumping into Lockwood, whose fingers had slipped from the crook of her elbow to her wrist. He looked around wildly, pulling his rapier back defensively, before she heard an unpleasant screech as her ears popped. Panic seeped out of her as she readjusted to the real world, becoming increasingly aware of his grip on her pulse. His hair was messed up and the side of his face glittered with soot, but he seemed too busy struggling with something himself to speak. He looked just as disconcerted as she felt, but the longer he observed her with trepidation in his eyes, she felt that it had more to do with her than the Lurkers.

“They...found the source?” She asked breathlessly, anything to break the silence.

“...yes.” He bit out, and she was thrown off by the venom in his voice. There was something different about him, something surlier. George gave a shout from behind and Lockwood snapped out of it, letting go of her wrist and moving away. By the time her wits had sufficiently returned, he was already finishing up some paperwork and George and Lucy had just finished loading their supplies into the cab. She tried to catch Lockwood's eye as he walked towards them, but he seemed to be aggressively avoiding her gaze. The crushing feeling was back. The cab ride was no less easy.

“Were you ghost-locked?” Lucy had picked up that something was off and she had the foresight to sit up front with the driver, while George was stuck between them. Lockwood, being Lockwood, wasn't about to wait until they reached home to start on her.

“No.” Couldn’t even see the bloody thing, she wanted to add, but she felt it wouldn’t help her case.

“Drawn out by the visitor?”

“No.” She felt the hot prick of shameful tears behind her eyes as she cradled her forehead. What had gotten into her? She had been embarrassingly paralysed for no good reason, rapier slack in her hand like an amateur trainee who couldn’t tell one end from the other.

“You of all people should know to stay within the chains. You know how little you can see. This isn’t your first Lurker - “

“I heard noises, and some screaming, and then it was dead quiet. I thought something terrible had happened.”

"What screaming?" It was harder for Lucy to follow the conversation from the front, but she still tried earnestly.

Her response died at her lips as she caught George's equally confused glance. The realisation dawned on her unpleasantly. Of course no one knew what she was talking about. There was no screaming. She should have known better, she did know better: Lurkers were notorious for causing visual and auditory hallucinations. Lockwood didn't wait for an answer, and pressed on heatedly.

“Even if she had screamed, your first instinct is to abandon your only form of protection? You’re not a newbie, L/N. So why I am I having to spell this out for you?”

“Spell what out for me?” It was a little more vicious than what the rest were accustomed to seeing, especially since very little of Lockwood riled her up this much after working with him for so long. But he hadn’t referred to her by her surname for years, and it stung.

“You could have died! You nearly did die. Never, have I ever seen a disregard for personal safety so deplorable. Really, what were you thinking?”

She rests her head against the cold window, the rattling a welcome relief to her pounding head, her exhaustion finally catching up to her, her words like loose marbles on her tongue. “I…I don’t know. I wasn’t- I was just…I wasn’t thinking.”

“Clearly.”

As far as misunderstandings went, theirs never went this far. Lockwood was an open book to her, and where he was stubborn she was even-tempered enough to knock some sense into him before things escalated this far. But this was new territory. She had never seen him this angry before and certainly never towards her, and she was too weak to shoulder his anger bravely. She could see the irritation behind the tension in his shoulders as he stabbed his rapier into their rapier stand near the front door, and felt her heart fold within itself even more. He jerked towards her like there was something he wanted to stay. A million words and feelings raced across his face. She opened her mouth, willing her fatigued mind to say something to patch the rift.

“I’m sorry.” She held her breath. “I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

Any other day, he would have sighed, maybe held off for a second or two, before pulling her into a half hug or ruffling her hair, and dragging her to the kitchen. Because where Lockwood was smooth and charismatic, she was clunky with words and sometimes she couldn’t find the right ones. But with Lockwood, she didn’t need to. He would take one look in her eyes and pluck the thought out with devastating grace. It was her and Lockwood, Lockwood and her, forever scampering to each other’s rooms across the hallway to tell the other about their latest inane thought, until George yelled at them to quit it.

But today was not any other day.

“If you pull a stunt like this again…I don’t know if I could trust you enough to stay safe on cases.”

Her voice was an ugly croak. “…what?”

“Y/N…I cannot, in good conscience, entertain or enable you in this-this suicidal-“

“Lockwood, it was an accident. You know that, right?”

“That’s besides the-“

“You can’t possibly think I did this on purpose!”

“I don’t know.”

His eyes dropped, and she felt tears stinging her eyes again. “You...don’t...know.” She echoed him distantly, turning over each syllable on her tongue carefully, voice as hollow as his. “You don’t know…what? You don’t know…me?”

Flashes of the life they built together ran through her mind. Patiently dusting the frames that cluttered the walls. Broaching the idea of starting an agency. Standing hours in line at DEPRAC to register said agency. Going to Arif’s for the first time. Weeks of singed hair and smoky air as they relentlessly shortlisted the most cost-effective suppliers for their kits. Getting over her first breakup and watching him laugh as she swore off dating forever. Cycling indoors on a rainy afternoon just for the hell of it, while George nagged at them incessantly. Buying a cake the day their paperwork was approved and it being smeared on DEPRAC’s certificate within a minute of it being cut. Getting yelled at by Barnes for the first time. Getting injured for the first time and having him excessively fuss over the cut. Arguing about their noses while waiting for their cab in the cold after a case (he insists they’re the same, and she disagrees, partly because she isn’t sure if she could handle knowing that). Framing their first (less than complimentary) news article. Him putting the kettle on in the mornings so that it’s just the right temperature by the time she comes down to the kitchen.

Somewhere along the line, she became acutely aware that the glow she felt watching him nibble at toast in bright spirits after a long case wasn’t completely normal, but then she forgot, because it didn’t matter at the time. But now it felt like it should.

He swallowed with a resolute set to his jaw that told her he wasn’t going to change his mind anytime soon. She felt a tremor run through her hand, a sudden urge to reach out and clench the lapels of his coat, to hold on to the misty silhouette of a friend who was quickly dissolving into thin air.

And then he was gone, and she was alone, and the rift deepened and gaped its visceral jaws in front of her, threatening to swallow her whole. She numbly got dressed for bed, forgetting about the slice on her forearm until she dragged it across her sheets. It smarted, but there was a comfort in the irritation and rawness.

That night, she dreamt of bicycles rolling along on hardwood floors, the shadows the library fire cast in the grooves of Lockwood's face, and rough walls she couldn't scale. She didn't know when she started to cry.

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"So we all slept like shit. Good to know."

George walked into an uncharacteristically silent kitchen. Lucy was glumly stirring her tea, Lockwood favoured the newspaper over breakfast that morning, and she had a plate of buttered toast in front of her that she kept forgetting about. "At least the two of you had the chains for, er, most of it."

"Please. It was just as bad inside the chains. I kept hearing my teammates die over, and over, and..." She covered Lucy's hand with one of her own, gently removing her spoon.

Breakfast was a sorry affair, and the rest of the week didn't fare much better either, and things reached a breaking point on Sunday. Lockwood shut himself up in the library to get their files and invoices straightened out. There we go, another first: first morning they didn't speak a word to each other. Lucy was busy with rapier practice and George went off to the Archives, so she decided to head out for some fresh air. She came home around lunchtime. George wasn't back yet, but she couldn't hear the jets going off in the basement. She crept upstairs, her stomach twisting at the sight in Lockwood's room.

He was seated on his bed, concerningly pale, talking to Lucy in a low voice. The scene looked so intimate she felt like an intruder just watching them. She tapped on his door, and their heads jumped apart.

"Everything okay?" She tried to keep her tone light, but Lucy's grave face and Lockwood still pointedly looking away didn't help. Lucy gave him a not-so-subtle kick and he grimaced. Her face fell.

"Sorry, I...didn't mean to intrude."

"No, no, it was nothing. We were just talking about yesterday's case. Right, Lockwood?"

"I'll just go -"

"Luce, mind helping me pack the chains?" He held out a duffel bag. The duffel bag he always gave her, not Lucy, to pack the chains. To her credit, Lucy didn't seem much happier than her either, and she snatches the bag from him in a huff. As Lucy walks away, she wonders what it must be like to be loved by Anthony Lockwood. He stands up and starts to shift around his room, fiddling with odds and ends; but curiously, he hasn't asked her to leave.

"I can't - " Her words failed her, but she gritted her teeth and forced them out anyway, the hard edge in her voice giving way to a weak whisper. "I can't stand this. You can't keep freezing me out."

"I don't know what you're talking about. What I do know is that we have a job at 135 Manilla Street and if you don't feel up for it..."

She didn't finish his sentence. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. She wasn't going to play into his emotionally manipulative hands like putty. Lucy awkwardly walked out of the room.

"...maybe you shouldn't come."

For the first time in nearly 18 hours, he finally looked at her, but nothing could have prepared her for the contempt he held.

"Don't be ridiculous." "Of course I'm coming."

"Actually, I was just discussing this with Lu-" A heavy boot chucked from the attic narrowly missed Lockwood's head. "I came to the decision, after talking with Luce, that maybe it's best you don't come tonight. I don't want a repeat of yesterday."

"Well, I'm sorry you feel that way, because I'm coming. This is my job." Lockwood didn't seem to appreciate that in the same way she did. She was distantly aware of George calling out into the house, and Lockwood slammed the stack of books he was gathering onto his desk in response. Anger seemed to be the only emotion he could express after last night.

"Why can't you just listen for once? Why must you always be so...so difficult?"

"I'm not some possession for you to do with as you please! You yell at me, ignore me, scorn me, now lock me up just because you've decided you don't want to look at me?"

"Enough." There was a warning hidden in the tone of his voice as he started to close his door, but she wasn't done. Some fragmented fracture of Lockwood still cared about her, cared about his awful behaviour, and by God was she going to shake that out of him.

"What do I care? Keeping secrets behind locked doors is all you're good at anyway."

He froze just as the door was a fraction of an inch away from closing, a deadly quiet settling over the house. Even the rustling in the kitchen stopped.

“Look, I didn’t want to have to this.” Oh, he’s most definitely seeing red now. “But I am your employer, Miss L/N, and it is for me to decide which cases you do or do not go for.”

"So...this is just what we're going to do for the next...forever? I'll never go on a case again just because you have some weird problem with it? I'll just -" She let out a harsh bark of laughter, suddenly manic with panic. "I'll just leave then, shall I? Get out of your hair, for good?"

"I didn't say that."

“Don’t. Don’t. Don’t do this, Lockwood.” Her breath was coming in embarrassingly agitated now. Was the air thinning? Her head was spinning like she might pass out. She pushed against the door with ore force than she needed, meeting surprisingly little resistance. He was standing woodenly, eyes unseeing, and yet she felt that was the most honest he had been since the previous night. She looks at him, and for the first time, she wonders what he’s thinking about.

"Fine. Be like that, then." She wants to reach out, beg him to want her to stay, but instead she pulls herself away. She opens drawers and cabinets and pours clothes and misery into her worn suitcase. Lucy stands hopelessly in the doorway and George is whispering something furious to Lockwood, who just watches her stonily. A part of her feels stupid, as stupid as the night before, like she had lost some race in taking this long to realise she was hoping, praying, waiting for nothing. As she leaves, George searches her face and pats her shoulder awkwardly. When she reaches the front door, a movement in the shadows makes her jump.

"He's just being an arse. You know that. Just wait a few days. Please.”

Lucy. Sweet Lucy. Sweet, well-meaning Lucy who was better than the lot of them. She was going to miss her the most. She told her as much, but Lucy didn’t seem amused.

“You don't have to leave." She pulled Lucy into a hug, keeping her bitterness barely at bay.

"Oh, Luce. What else can I do?"

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She lives in a cold, cramped flat at the edge of civilisation, away from anyone's eyes. Away from Lockwood's cold, dead eyes. Some days she reads the paper, and every time she tries to force herself to read it as Lockwood would. She stays in the bed for the first week, but her savings are only so little, and eventually she starts working again. Too frail to set out as an independent agent, she signs on part-time with Fittes. She doesn't bother to get to know her teammates. Kipps is unexpectedly kind to her in ways he would rather die than acknowledge. She doesn't stick around long enough to get checked up by their medics after cases.

She returns to her dimly lit cavern and clumsily bandages her cut alone with none of his attention to detail. She drags her palm weakly across her eyes and tries to remember her friends' faces. Did Lucy's bob end at her chin, or her clavicles? How big were the lenses of George's glasses? Lockwood is a mist that colours her new life. Turns out, life is a lot more depressing without George's propensity for intellectual name-calling and Lucy's aggressively positive spirit. Sometimes she catches herself taking her tea the way Lockwood does, and she wonders where Lockwood ends and where she begins.

She goes to sleep wishing she had never met him, and wakes up with a million things to tell him. She sees the occasional silhouette wandering the street as she draws her curtains and lets her heart pretend it's him. She fumbles with her love for him, not knowing where, or how, to put it down. Day in and day out, her yearning threatens to consume her entirely.

One night, after a case at a bridge over the Thames, she runs into George and Lucy, and it's the most alive she's ever felt since she left. They want to hear about her but she brushes it off immediately: she wants to hear everything and anything about 35 Portland Row and its inhabitants.

"He's bloody awful lately. He's too quiet, and he keeps staring out of windows like he's waiting for something, even at night. George had to knock him out with cough syrup to stop him from coming tonight; he's wasting away. Of course, George occasionally forces some food down his throat and wrestles him into his bed every once in a while, but..." Lucy worries her bottom lip and she feels her stomach sink. "I don't know how much longer this can last."

"I keep telling him to reach out to you -"

"Reach out to me? Do you know where I live?"

George exchanges a look with Lucy. "Well, not exactly, but it took Lockwood all but half a day to find out. Not that he'll tell us. Coherent speech is...it's becoming a bit of a struggle for him. Either way, I have no idea what's keeping him from apologising when he's clearly so cut up about it."

After they leave, she replays the conversation in her head while waiting to be dismissed, trying to extract as much meaning as she could from their words. She thinks about the dark apartment waiting for her. An empty flat. An empty life. Before she realises, she's neck deep in the Thames, a step away from walking off the sea bed. Freedom from this pain, from these shackles which bound her to earthly woes, was deliciously close. She closes her eyes and takes the final step, water rushing in to dull her hyperactive senses.

But the peace didn't last long. Suddenly, she felt hands hauling her out of her cool sanctuary, and desperate panting coupled with water splashing. The water in her lungs hurt and she felt like a sack of potatoes. After much painful gagging and coughing, she gathered her wits. Lucy was apprehensively leaning over her, and she could hear George agitatedly pacing and muttering behind them.

"I thought you looked weird. Your eyes were too bright."

"...dead man walking. I'm gonna kill him. I'm gonna rip his throat out..."

"Come home with us, Y/N. Just for tonight. Please."

She looks at Lucy, suddenly furious at her for interfering. What did she know? This wasn't some small tiff where she and Lockwood could just hug and make up. She was better off without them. She dodges Lucy's concern and outstretched hand, shakily rising to her feet.

"If it was as simple as coming home, believe me - I would have returned a long time ago."

"Y/N..."

"I don't need you looking after me! I'm fine alone. Just go home, Lucy." Shame was beginning to fester inside of her. "Just go home."

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Hell is beating at her windows when she wakes up. The rain comes down hard and fast in sheets, and for the first time, she feels grateful to have this roof, however old, over her head. She curls up at her window with a large cup of coffee, watching the heavens rage.

Suddenly, her head jerks towards the front door. She listens carefully for a moment, but only hears the wind howling through some hidden draft. And yet, her feet are walking her towards the door. She feels it in her bones the way she hasn't felt it since that fateful night months back. Something new is waiting for her.

She opens the door to a drenched man with his fist poised, ready to knock. It takes her a few blinks to reconcile the image of the man in front of her with the Lockwood she now only hazily remembered. They hadn't been exaggerating; he really did look awful. His skin was dull and stretched grotesquely over his bones, and his eyes look positively bruised. He was aggressively shivering in the rain, no umbrella in sight. She instinctively stepped back and he gratefully entered, rubbing his hands together for some warmth.

"Are you insane? What are you doing here?"

"I know what happened last night."

She subconsciously withdrew within herself. "George told you?"

"Lucy, actually. George and I haven't been on the best of terms lately, but, as of now, he's stopped speaking to me entirely."

"Ah." A small part of her flickered sympathetically. She remembered how much George meant to Lockwood, and vice versa, but the memory felt so unused, as if it were from a different life.

If he notices how dismal her flat is, he doesn't let on. In fact, he only seems interested in looking at her, drinking her in like a man starved. She allows it, but only for a while, and only because it's too big of a relief to have him standing here, larger than life, right in front of her. Starving, yes; sleep-deprived, yes; but very much alive.

"Come now, Y/N. Don't look at me like that."

"It's been a very long six months. I'll look at you however I want."

He sighs and shifts her chair closer to her and, as if inspired by some sudden bout of insanity, takes her hand, but doesn't seem to know exactly what to do with it.

"Lucy and George have been yelling at me to tell you the truth for ages now, but...I was too afraid. I was a coward. But after my earful from George last night...I realised you were just as scared as I was. Probably even more, all alone. And I'm trying to find it in me to be brave enough for the both of us." She listens cautiously, too burnt to fully believe.

He laces his fingers into her own, and brings it up to his face tenderly. "Remember how it used to be? Me and you, you and me. Just the two of us against the rest of the world." He fiddles with his pocket, and she hears a crinkling of brittle newspaper. It's their first picture in the papers. George, with significantly fewer wrinkles, is standing off to one side. Lockwood is trying and failing to look professional, which probably has to do with the way she's thrown her arms around his neck and is pressing a half-kiss to his cheekbone. She couldn't help it; she was just so proud of him. That's the photo to gets her to smile for the first time in months.

His own smile wobbles as he watches her, then slides off entirely, leaving behind an Anthony Lockwood that looks much older than his years.

"I don't know what I was thinking that day. I had a really bad string of nightmares that week where...where your lips would be blue and your pulse long gone by the time I reached. It was such a close shave, I can't help but think..." She wants to reach out and smooth the crease in his brow. "What if I were a second late?"

"But you weren't. Isn't that all that matters?"

A glimmer of a smile skimmed his face. "Yeah, well, Lucy told me as much."

"Smart girl."

"But I didn't listen. I tried - god, I tried - but I couldn't. I thought you would be safer without me. So when you started saying you'd leave, this awful seed was planted in my head, and I was angry, but also madly in love with you, and I didn't know how to say any of it."

A tear falls on their joined hands. "That evening really messed me up, Lockwood. It screwed with my head big time."

"I know." There was a rush in his voice that mirrored the same kind of rush that had flitted through her body for the past six months. "And I don't expect you to ever forgive me. I'll spend the rest of my life fixing the damage I've done. But...but...if somewhere down the road...you find it in your big heart to forgive me and my sins...I might just love you. No more secrets or locked doors; I'm done with them. Y/N L/N, I'm ready to love you wildly and freely."

First time she didn't absolutely hate him saying her last name.