#you will never walk again but you will fly

[nymphoheretic]

Synopsis: You infiltrated the Farspace Fleet only to be captured by the Colonel. He looks vaguely familiar...It couldn't be! Could it be...Caleb!

Warnings: Hatefucking, psuedo-cest, CNC (Caleb uses reader's conflicting feelings against her),OOC Caleb(probably cause he's a little mean), gun kink, glove kink, misuse of Caleb's evol, fingering, electrostimulation via his bionic arm, squirting, light degrading, teasing, edging, choking, oral sex (m!receiving and f!recieiving) impact play (clit slaps, spanking, light face slapping), praise, manipulation, breeding, orgasm control, overstim, use of "gege", use of "mei mei" (lemme know if I missed anything!)

Pairing: Caleb x F!Reader/MC

Word Count: 8.5k

A/N: Caleb has been rotting a brain ever since his trailer dropped and he was all yandere-ish vibes and mean and evil and....I swear I'm a Zayne girlie

AO3

Network: @eveningatthemoviesnetwork

You were visibly shaking with anger as you glare at the man walking around in front of you. How could he dare show his face to you again after being declared dead for a year?! How did he survive the explosion? How did he escape? And the more important question that burns in the back of your mind: if he did make it out, where was Granny Jospehine? Did he just leave her to die?

Your eyes follow him as he steps slowly around the room, an apple in his grip as he stares at it thoughtfully. There was a neutral look on his face as the methodical soft creaks of his boots echoing out as he circles you. You clench your fists tightly as your teeth bites down on the plush of your lip as you raise your chin he finally sits down, his purplish eyes easily locking with yours.

“Gege…”

The pitterpatter of the storm outside strikes against the widow as Caleb regards you with a cool look as he squeezes the apple lightly in his fist. He sits directly in front of you, his knees brushing against yours from the movement. A small, short scoff leaves his lips as he looks down at the apple in his grip. “Have you ever taken a moment to consider…” His eyes shift back towards yours as his lips quirk up into a sinister smile. “…that I was never your brother?” Caleb lifts the apple to his lips slowly and takes a bite, the sound of his teeth breaking the bright red flesh echoing through your ears.

Before you could stop yourself, you rose to your feet, hand held high and smacked it across his cheek. The apple flying from his hand and smashing against the window before sliding down and smearing the glass with its juices. Your chest heaves as you glare at him through narrowed eyes as the force of your slap causes his head to turn to the side, his cheek visibly red. “Bastard.” you growl, voice filled with hatred, yet it still trembles with conflict as the memories of the sweet Caleb you grew up with surfaces.

Caleb slices his eye back over to you, subtly flicking his index finger up and watching as the gravity around you grows dense from his manipulation as you drop to your knees. Lightning flashes, making his eyes glow sinisterly as he rises back to his feet. His hand stretches out and pets your hair as his smile turns back soft. “You’re acting like you don’t remember me, Little one.”

That nickname. It stirs something within you and the image of Caleb - your Caleb - overlaps the man in front of you. His eyes turn playful and it makes your heart beat faster in your chest. “No!” You yell out and when his hand moves to caress your cheek, you lash out and bite him. Your teeth sink in deep as you clamp your jaws down on to the fleshy part between his wrist and pinky.

He lets out a grunt as he grabs your jaw in his other hand and squeezes your cheeks until you release his hand. His tongue pokes out and licks at the indents your teeth left behind on his hand. “Do you remember when we were little and you brought home an injured cat?” He reaches out and grabs your wrist, placing a thin black device around the width as he releases his control over the intense gravity around you. “I put a collar with a bell on it so it couldn’t escape without being noisy.” His hand trails down your leg as he increases the gravity around it to hold you in place on the couch.

You gasp and open your mouth to say something, probably to curse him again when the cold gloved finger of his other hand presses against your lips, silencing you. His eyes harden once more as he rises back to his feet. “Do as you’re told and don’t cause any trouble. You won’t get hurt then.” When your jaw snaps shut his facial expression softens as he reaches for your hand and places it on his cheek, curling your fingers to make you cup his face. “It’s me. I’m back.”

Those words make your heart quiver as you nearly give into his sweet voice. Everything about him screamed your gege - your Caleb, but there was something darker about him that was holding you back. A bit of darkness in his eyes that you could easily spot. You grit your teeth as you could still feel the effects of his evol holding you down. “Gege…If you’re back, then let me go!”

Caleb’s eyes darken when you call him that and he moves his face away from you. His fists clenched tightly, his gloved hand making a creasing sound as his eyes squeezed shut. When he opens them again, he looks into yours. The hatred that burns in them was shallow. He could easily break you if he chose to. “Princess…you didn't pass.” His voice was cool as he reached out his hand.

You gasp as pressure constricts around your throat as the gravity around it moves inward, pressing down on those precious arteries and veins that deliver oxygen rich blood to your brain. Your eyes widen as you claw at the air around your neck to no avail. You try to squirm around, but the pressure on your leg holds you down. Tears begin to form in your eyes as you look at Caleb pleadingly. “Please…ge…Caleb…” you manage to breathe out.

Finally.

The pressure around your throat stops and your hands immediately fly to cup your tender neck as your chest heaves, your breath coming out in pants as blood seeps back into your brain. Your shoulder gives a short flinch when Caleb wraps his long fingers around your delicate wrist and pulls you into his chest. His sweet voice surrounds you as it rumbles from his chest. Your hand curls up on his pectorals as your face heats up, coloring down to your chest. “Caleb?”

“You can't convince yourself to hate me with every fiber of your being.” His finger slips under the small opening at your waist, slowly tracing the skin there in a slow caress that makes shivers roll down your spine. “Wouldn't you agree, Little one?” He practically purrs that name in your ear as his gloved hand presses you deeper into his embrace, a coldness seeping into your flesh through the materials of your clothing.

You meet his lilac gaze and could see the way they soften for you - because of you. It made your heart squeeze painfully in your chest. He was right. You couldn’t bring yourself to hate him completely but that did not stop the rage that was boiling within you. You try to remove yourself from his hold but still that heavy pressure on your legs keeps you close to him. You open your mouth once more to curse at him, when he slips his fingers into your mouth and presses down on your tongue.

“Ah ah ah…You still haven’t passed your test, princess.” He kicks your feet apart, his manipulation over the gravity that holds you down releasing its grip but now he has one on your jaw as saliva pools on the center of your tongue until it leaks down the corners of your lips. Caleb’s lips turn upwards into a smile, his face morphing into the one of your sweet gege. You blink once, twice, three times to try to clean your mind. This Caleb was not your gege. This was the Farspace Fleet’s Colonel Caleb. And you? You were his prisoner.

Caleb stares into your eyes, lilac orbs darkening with something akin to desire and need. All those pent up feelings he’s had for you are flooding back so intensely. His fingers slide deeper into your mouth, saliva spilling down the corners of your mouth before he pulls them out completely. He spreads his digits and watches how the translucent strings of spittle slides down them. His knee slots between your thighs as his hands quickly cup your cheeks, “Bite me again and I’ll crush your throat,” he warns before his tongue slips into your warm mouth.

A surprised squeak vibrates in your chest as you try to beat down that feeling of greedy want and desire that you had once held for Caleb before he was lost to you. You had to remind yourself that he was now the enemy, but…why were his lips so soft, tongue so gentle as it strokes over yours, trying to coax a reaction out of yours. Your first instinct was to bite down until his threat replays in your head. You could feel a sheer difference in the temps of his palms as he cups your face under your jaw.

His tongue licks over every part of your mouth, leaving nothing untouched. He strokes over your teeth, the roof of your mouth before finally coming in contact with your own. He swirls it with his pink muscle, teasing and coaxing it out to play with his. He grips your jaw a little tighter with his left hand, cold, hard fingers digging into your skin as a growl vibrates in his chest. He pulls away briefly, tongue flicking out over your lips. “C’mon. You’ve kissed me before, little one. Don’t tell me you actually hate me?”

Your eyes narrow once more as you try to pull your jaw out his grip, wincing a bit when he squeezes it tightly. A hiss vibrates on your tongue before you draw in a slow breath at his taunting words. Heartbeat racing as blood whooshes in your ears as you remember all the sweet shared kisses with Caleb. How his gentle tongue tastes on yours, how his soft lips felt against yours. Before you could stop yourself, your eyes soften as they flicker down to his mouth, his lips looking very inviting.

Slowly you lean in, breath mingling with his as you near his lips with yours. Lips clash in a soft kiss as a moan dares to slip past when his tongue reaches out to play with yours. Feelings that you tried so desperately to keep hidden away, to keep them locked away resurfaces before you could snuff them out. Your arms come up to lock behind his head, fingers digging into his soft dark hair and pulling him in closer. The sweet, familiar taste of apples explodes over your taste buds as you curl your tongue around his in a slow, seductive way. Your eyelids tip close as you begin to lose yourself.

A voice in the back of your head screams at you loudly, shocking you and making you break away as his hands begin to slide down your back. “No!” You say as you push him away, your breath coming out in hot pants as a string of saliva cools as it snaps back against your neck. Gasping when he suddenly slides his knee further between your thighs, pressing it up against the seat of your pants as his hand tips your face back up to meet his purple eyes. “Caleb…what are you…”

He says nothing as he digs his knee in deeper against your core, eliciting another gasp from you. “You don't really hate me. I'm back. I'm your Caleb, remember?” He takes your hand and presses it against the left side of his chest over his beating heart. “See? I'm alive.” His cool, even tone also sounds sad to your ears and you have to look away from his eyes. He was trying to pull you back under his spell. You couldn’t let him. Hold on to the fact that he lied! That he… Caleb trails your hand down lower until it rests on his belt. “Do you still hate this, princess? I’m aching for you.”

“C-Caleb!” You squeak as you try to pull your hand back, but his grip holds tight as he slides your hand lower until you cup his hardening cock. You could feel it rising to full attention, tenting the black slacks he had on and straining against the zipper. “Y-you…” Glaring up at him, faux disgust written all over your face, but your body was betraying you as your thighs hug together around his knee. You could feel yourself growing damp as your fingers curl around his length. “N-no…” You whimper out. Caleb takes your face in his hand gently, squeezing your cheeks until your lips part. Slipping his tongue out, he lets a long, hot dollop of saliva drip down to pool in your mouth. With a subtle flick of his finger, gravity shifts around your throat and before you could even think spit slides down your throat as he easily reverses your positions. The manipulation of the gravity around your leg strengthens and forces you to kneel in front of him, you place your hands on his thighs to prevent your face from being smushed in his lap.

A smile tilts at his lips as his finger comes up to tip your chin back up to look into his darkening gaze. “You remember what to do, right.” He coos softly as his other hand tugs down the zipper to his pants, popping the button open. Caleb shucks them down over his hips until his long, thick cock pops out, the tip leaking pre down the pale shaft, the tip flushed a bright pink. “Come on, little one.” His voice is still that same soft tone from before - the one that makes your heart quiver as you look up into his soft, puppy eyes.

Your tongue peeks out to wet your bottom lip as you are slow to realize what he wants from you. It wasn’t until his cock springs out and nearly smacks your cheek did your eyes widen. “I…No. I won’t do it.” You flinch when his hand raises, but peek one open when his fingers simply brush over your hair as he gives you another soft smile.

“Oh, pretty, I wasn’t asking.” His eyes darken as he lifts his chin, the gravity around you shifting and forcing your lips on his cock. Caleb lets out a groan as your warm cavern engulfs his length, his head falling backward to rest against the back of the couch. His hands ball into fists as he decreases and increases the pressure of the gravity to make you bob your head up and down. He could feel the familiar way your tongue curls around his dick. His lips curl into a smirk, “That’s it. Such a good girl. Keep sucking, just like that. Your mouth feels as good as I remember.”

His praise sent shivers rolling down your spine as a tingle started to throb between your legs. You squeeze your thighs together as you feel slick beginning to pool into the seat of your panties. How and why were you enjoying this? Caleb was the enemy now! He was no longer your sweet gege - no longer your sweet Caleb. This was…Your thought process was interrupted as Caleb shifts, thrusting his hips upward and the thick tip of him brushes against the back of your throat and making you let out a choked moan. You should hate this, but his familiar taste on your tongue made it almost impossible as the hatred in your eyes softened as you tried to glare up at him.

Caleb slowly eases up on his manipulation of the gravity around you until you were sucking him off willingly. He reaches down and presses his hand against the back of your head as your saliva drips down to wet his balls, your soft tongue caressing the large vein running on the underside of his cock. “Such a nasty little cockhungry slut. Wish you could see how you look, sucking my cock like it's your favorite treat.” His voice trails off in another low growl as his hips buck up, heavy balls slapping against your chin as they begin to draw up as his cock twitches on your tongue. “You want me to cum down that greedy throat of yours? Paint your mouth in my color, yeah.”

You didn’t realize that his hold over the gravity around you had stopped as you continued to work your mouth and tongue over his thickness. A moan vibrates in the muscles of your throat and chest as you bob your head deeper down on his cock, nose brushing against the light dusting of brown hair at the base of his pelvis. Thick strings of spittle clings and runs down his shaft as your tongue curls around his tip, tasting the precum that was oozing out the slit. He tastes just like you remembered, sweet with an underlying hint of salty. His degrading words reach your ears and your face burns with embarrassment as you try to remind yourself that he was using his evol to make you do this.

Before you could look back up at him with faux anger, his cock twitches on your tongue, swelling in your mouth as the movements of his hips grow sporadic. You let out a surprised squeak when his hands cup your face as he thrusts deeply, his tip hitting the back of your throat as his seed suddenly spills over. It fills your mouth at such a rate that you have no choice but to swallow or choke on it.

Caleb’s hips thrusts in sporadic jerks as his balls empty his cum down your sinfully tight throat. Oh how he could stay in this perfect little mouth forever. But he was dying for a taste of you. He missed you and your touch so much over the past year, he was gone. “You enjoyed tasting me, yeah? Got you wet between your thighs, little one?” His eyes watch the way your chest heaves as he slips his cock out your mouth and sees the way your thighs pressed together. He tsk’ed when you shake your head “no”. Still denying the fact that you didn’t hate him. That you didn’t hate what he was doing. That you didn’t hate that he was reclaiming what was his long ago.

A ‘scwhick’ sounded in the silence followed by the ripping of leather as a blade slices through the material of his glove. Your eyes widened at the sight of his bionic hand as a knife shoots out of the wrist. Caleb balls the hand into a fist and raises the blade down to your eye level, a grin spreading over his lips as he waves the blade in your face. “You’re wearing too many clothes, baby girl.” With those words, he slides the tip of the sharp knife down your neck, being mindful to not pierce your flesh until he makes it to your hunter’s uniform. He easily slices through the white collar of your top before dragging the blade down towards the red corset top.

You gasp as your breasts bounce free when your top was cut down the center and with Caleb’s manipulation over the gravity around you made it impossible for you to raise your hands to cover them. Your mouth parts in a whimper as the cool touch of the blade crawls over the soft, warm skin of your breasts as you feel Caleb’s eyes locking in on them as he traces his knife over them. “Cale-” Your words are cut off as he snaps his gaze back towards yours and you feel the shift in the gravity pulling you back up to your feet.

Caleb said nothing as he shifted his manipulation to make you rise back up, his bionic hand making quick work of the black pants you wore. His eyes zero in on the red lace of the panties you were wearing and a grin spreads over his lips. “Were you expecting this? You’re such a naughty mei mei of mine.” He says the term like it was a curse, like it was venom on his tongue before his eyes land on the dark, wet spot forming in the seat of your panties. “What’s this? Lying to me about not liking having me down your slutty throat.”

“I…I didn’t! I…I don’t want you, Caleb!” Your words sounded false even to you. You advert your eyes away from his and lift your chin in defiance to his question. “It’s a natural reaction! That doesn’t mean anything, gege.” You’ve learned that he hates being called that now and when you peek down at him out of the corner of your eye, you could see the dark cloud that covered his face. You let out a squeal when his fingers suddenly dig into your hips, hooking into your panties and pulling them down. You watch in mild shock at the long string of slick that connects your labia to the wet cotton patch before it breaks.

Caleb arches his brow up at you, a smirk curling at his lips. “A natural reaction for getting this soaked for me. Your “brother”? He leans in and presses his lips against your mound, nosing at it and listening to your soft gasps as your hands fly to his hair. “You’re a terrible liar, princess. Just admit it.”

You could feel yourself getting weak in the knees as Caleb trails kisses down the innermost corners of your thighs, inches away from your dripping heat. You feel a moan threatening to escape and you quickly bite your lip. Hard. To try to prevent it from slipping out. “I…I don’t know what you’re talking about, gege.” Your mouth parts in a scream when a shock courses through your body coming from between your thighs. You yank Caleb’s head back to see his bionic arm’s finger pressing against your clit, a stream of light violet energy surging through it.

“Caleb.” He growls, another surge of electricity running from the tip of his mechanical finger to your precious little pearl. Your voice calls out to him as his tongue reaches out to soothe the sting and his chin is immediately drenched with your juices. His metal fingers slide from your clit to prod at your opening as his other hand wraps around your thigh to pull it to drape over his shoulder. The pointed tip of his tongue circles your nub before his lips close over it and he suckles it into his mouth.

Your legs buckle as your slick bubbles and pops at your hole as his fingers slowly push inside. Fuck. Your heart was pounding beneath your rib cage as your fingers curled into his dark hair and you didn’t know if you wanted to push him away or pull him closer to your needy cunt. His name was on the tip of your tongue but you swallow it back down. You couldn’t give him the satisfaction that he’s broken you down. Made you submit to him and his…Fuck. Your head falls to your chest as his tongue does wicked things to you, slipping between your folds and curling in deep as his nose nudges and bumps against your clit.

Fingers dive deeper into his hair as you could no longer hold in your voice as Caleb pushes his metal fingers in deeper and lets a wave of electricity course through your walls in a pleasurable tingle. “Oh fuck!” The screams of your ecstasy reach his ears, sounding like the gods and goddess were singing to him. His tongue became relentless as his lips suck and slurp at your sensitive little clit, drinking down every drop your slick hole produces.

If it wasn’t for his hold on your legs and the strength of the gravity holding you up, you’d have fallen as your knees buckle when he slurps at your juices as they run down his chin, trickling down his neck as he shakes his head like a ravenous beast. You were close, you could feel your heartbeat throbbing in tune with the pulses of your clit as his fingers dug you out, juices gushed out with every thrust that his greedy tongue eagerly laps up. “Ge-Cal-”

Then suddenly it all stops as Caleb pulls away, ruining your orgasm. Lilac eyes flash mischievously as he peers up at you, his bionic arms dripping with your juices as he brings the fingers to his lips and licks them clean. “Did you want to cum? Come on, little one. Admit it. Admit that you want me. Admit that you never saw me as your brother. Admit that you can’t hate me.” His hand closes around your thigh as he turns his head and presses his damp lips against the plush flesh. “Admit it and I’ll make you cum so hard you see stars.”

Caleb watches you with his lips quirked up into a smile as you whine and try to undulate your hips; seeking his tongue and fingers back into your aching and dripping snatch. But his hand wraps around your waist and holds you down as the gravity around your body places opposite pressures, causing you to stand still. His eyes narrow when you still try to struggle against his hold over his evol and a “tsk” leaves his throat. “I said. Admit. It. Little. One. Stop. Being. Stubborn.” He enunciated each word with a sharp slap to your clit with the flat of his fingers.

You let out a pained whine as each strike was also followed by a small zap of electricity that thumbs over your engorged button as blood makes it swell even more. You bite your lips to stop the plea that almost spills over. Your eyes are burning with tears as you shake your head. You would not admit that you were enjoying the painful pleasurable torture he was putting your body through. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t. You- “Ca-Caleb…” Your bottom lip quivers as tears threaten to spill down your cheeks. “Please…I admit it. Can I please cum now?”

Your subconscious was screaming at you as your lips betray you and uttered those words, but before you could even think to take them back, to redact your statement, a cool smile spreads over Caleb’s lips as his fingers slide over your soaked slit, smearing your juices over you labia. You bend at the waist, hands flying back into his hair as his control over his evol weakens a bit and a moan escapes your lips. “I…I didn’t…mmph…” Your words are stolen as Caleb shoves his fingers into your mouth, your taste still clinging to the leather of the glove he still wore as he attacks your slit again with ravenous licks.

Caleb feasts on you like a starving man, juices trickling down the side of his face and neck as he ate your pretty cunt so messily. Lewd slurping sounds echoed throughout his room as he drank down every bit of your slick pussy juices that he could. The pointed tip of his tongue flicks and lashes out at your sensitive nub as his lips suck on your labia. As his gloved fingers still thrust into your mouth, the fingers of his bionic hand find their way back inside your slick cavern twisting and turning as he digs for that sweet spot that will have you cumming on his tongue.

You could feel the way your walls were clenching tightly around his fingers as he pressed deeper and deeper, searching for that gooey spot deep within your body. It all felt so foreign to you. This wasn’t the sweet Caleb that you had shared tender kisses with. Wasn’t the sweet boy you gave your virginity to years ago before his “death”, Nor was this your sweet gege that always vowed to protect you. Your voice is muffled by his fingers as you feel your pussy squeeze around his metal fingers as you feel your clit twitch and your juices flood out of you, hot and runny and drenching down his wrist. “Gege!”

The second your juices flow down his tongue, filling his mouth as he greedily drinks and slurps it all down. But the moment that name leaves your lips, he stops; pulling away from your addictive little pussy, a line of slick clinging to his bottom lip as he cuts his lilac eyes up to meet your dazed gaze, his voice was hard and even. “What did you call me?” He watches as your mouth parts in a gasp as he rises to his feet, cock bobbing as he stands, but he ignores the pre that dribbles from the tip to splatter on the floor. Lifting his chin, he snaps his head towards the couch and his evol sends you flying down into the cushion; face down ass up and your back arched so pretty for him. “Would your precious “gege” do this?”

He pulls out his gun from the holster, his legs coming to lock yours between his feet as he leans over you. The cold muzzles of the pistol caresses the hot skin of your spine, starting at the base of your skull and trailing down to the center of your back and over the curve of your ass. His other hand came crashing down on the globe of flesh until the skin was heated and a faint print of his hand was left behind as the skin wiggled. “I shouldn’t have let you cum. If I had known you’d be such a brat.” But despite his words, he was happy to taste you on his tongue, to taste your sweet juices.

You turn your head to look back at Caleb, feeling the cold tip of the gun tracing down the length of your back. You cry out when his hand smacks the flesh of your ass over and over again until the skin was heated and you were damn near in tears. You bite your lip as you feel him nudging the gun against your right ass cheek to stop the whimpers from coming out. Your pussy clenches in anticipation of what he was going to do, body betraying you as it grows slicker with every passing second. Despite your mind telling, yelling, that you should hate this, hate what he was doing to do, your body craved it. Craved more of his mean touches. More of his harsh treatment.

Caleb’s hand fists his cock as he slides the gun down, the cold tip gliding down the line of your ass. “Hmm? Should I punish you for being a brat. Delaying your orgasms again and again as I fuck you? Or maybe this slutty pussy is greedy for something else? You want my cock, little one or…?” He traces the muzzle down the line until it brushes against your glistening slit. His eyes watch as you jolt from the contact and try to pull away as his hand glides faster over his length, squeezing the swollen tip with every upward drag. “Answer quickly before I make the decision myself, princess.”

You try to pull away from the gun, but your hips rock back against it, your labia spreading to encompass the tip briefly. How could he try to make you choose? You…didn’t want either, right? Your pussy clenches at the thought of him fucking you with his gun, but was drooling over the chance to finally have his cock nudging up against your most sacred parts. Just as you were about to open your lips to tell him your answer, the cold steel of the gun sinks into your gooey walls, slick bubbling and popping around the black metal.

“Ca-Caleb?” Your voice was a mixture of shock and pleasure as he worked the gun a little deeper as you slowly rocked your hips backwards to help him. As his knuckle nudges at your clit, you let out a mewl and throw your head back. “F-fuck!” The curse leaves your throat before you could even think to swallow it down. You push back further, walls stretching to accommodate the thickness of the gun’s muzzle. You were so depraved for enjoying this, but you would never tell him. You still hated him. Right? Right?

“Shhh….” his hand wraps in your hair gently, pulling it back until your neck is exposed as he sinks his gun in deeper, the wet gushy sounds of your sloppy pussy making his dick grow impossibly harder. As your juices gush out, drenching his gloved fingers and sliding down the handle of the gun, his eyes watch as your naughty hips couldn’t stop moving backwards to fuck yourself deeper on the barrel. “Lemme listen to these slutty sounds she’s making for me.” Without warning, he pulls his gun out, the sticky sounds of your pussy trying to desperately suck it back echoing around the room as nasty strings of your cum drips down the length. “Just look at how you’ve dirtied my gun?”

He pulls on your hair, arching your back so far back your spine pops almost uncomfortably as he waves his slick covered gun in your face. “I should have you clean it, no?” He presses the gun against your cheek, smearing the creamy cum down your skin for a moment as his bionic hand lets go of your hair, still coated in your juices from earlier and wraps carefully around his cock and smears your slick down the length of it. His eyes zero in on your quivering little hole as you tremble under him and his self-control was beginning to waiver. He wanted to keep teasing and edging you until you were screaming his name and only thinking of him and his cock.

Moving the gun away from your face and bringing it to his lips as he notches the bulbous tip of his cock against your drooling hole. He shifts his bionic hand from his cock to grip your hip tightly, his mechanical fingers digging into the plush flesh tightly. As his tongue slips out to lick up the length of his gun, he pushes past those first tight rings of muscles, your pussy immediately stretching to accommodate his girth. Your taste explodes over his taste buds and he moans softly as he was greedy for more, but the wet velvety feeling of your silken walls engulfing his cockhead was starting to make him dizzy with how fast the blood was leaving his head to his engorged cock.

Your head drops to your chest as your arms threaten to give out from under you as Caleb sinks deeper into your warm, gooey walls, the delicious stretch of him filling you was damn near maddening. His name was on the tip of your tongue as you clench down tightly around him, sucking his cock in until the thick mushroomed tip was pressing snuggly against your cervix. A low moan vibrates in your chest as you pant and your hips rock back against his, the slow sticky clasp of skin meeting skin ringing out in the room.

Caleb’s eyes were trained on the sight of your tight little hole as it swallowed up his length. You were perfect for him. Your walls hug him just right, the right amount of pressure that makes him never want to leave your depths. “Fuck.” The curse leaves him in a growl as he places his gun down on the edge of the couch, both hands coming to wrap around your waist to pull you back deeper and faster on his cock. His leg hikes up, foot planting into the soft cushion of the couch as he thrust fast and hard into your tender cunt, pounding into you at such a pace that it was near demonic.

You bite your lip to stop the scream that was building up in your throat, chest burning from holding in your voice as your pussy squelches with every brutal and harsh thrust. The lewd sound of his pelvis meeting your ass vibrates and echoes in the room. His fingers grip your waist tightly, the cold fingers of his bionic arms branding your skin with his marks as his grunts fill the room as well. Sweat forms on your brow as you pant for air, rolling down the side of your face. “Ca-” You quickly snap your jaw just as you stop yourself from calling out his name.

Another low “tsk” leaves his throat as his eyes narrow. His left hand moves to grip the back of your neck and pushes your face down into the cushions as his foot slides up higher, caging your much smaller body under his. “Come on…let me hear you.” He urged as he made sure that with every thrust, he pressed his pelvis against the curve of your ass, grinding a bit to make sure you felt every inch of him. “Say my name. You know you want to scream it for the whole Fleet to hear, hmm?” He punctured each of the next words with a sharp snap of his hips. “Fucking. Scream. My. Name. Brat.”

The dam within you broke and your pent up emotions came flowing like the river of slick that gushes out of you as you cum hard against him, the force of it pushing his cock out as you finally grace his ears with the melodic sounds of your salacious screaming. “Ca-Caleb!”

Finally.

Finally after he’s edged your body to the best orgasm of your fucking life, did you say his name in the most prettiest of cries. He sits back on the couch, hands grabbing you around your waist, using his evol to shift the gravity of your body to make you weightless as he straddles you over his lap. “Such a dirty girl. Cumming so violently like that. I’m not through with you yet.” He flicks his finger down after his right hand notches the bulbous tip against your leaking hole and the gravity shifts downward, forcing your pussy onto his length.

Another lewd scream leaves your tender throat as Caleb makes you ride his cock, bouncing you up and down on his thickness. You had just come and your body was still trembling from the aftershocks of the one he just gave you. Your arms come up to wrap around his neck as his hands grip your thighs as he thrusts up into your cunt. “Caleb! Please! Slow down!” Tears sparkle on your lashes as drool begins to leak down the corner of your mouth.

He grabs the back of your neck and pulls your lips to his, tongue sliding out to delve into your mouth and curls over yours. Caleb then sucks your pink muscle between his teeth. You moan and he swallows the sound down as his hand shifts to grab at the meat of your ass to bounce you up and down on his cock, the tip kissing your cervix with each upward snap of his hips. Caleb felt the way your walls were fluttering, gripping his thickness tightly and he knew that you were going to cum again soon.

Breaking away, a thin string of saliva still connecting your tongue until it broke away to lay coolly against your chin, his lilac eyes capture your fucked out gaze. “Gonna cum again, little one?” His breath came out in harsh pants as your pussy squelches loudly as your juices gush out and wet up the material of his pants still hanging around his hips. “Ffuucckk, you’re squeezing me so tightly.” His head falls to rest against yours as he pecks at your lips sweetly, a vast difference in his powerful thrusts.

Your body was trembling as you rock your hips into his, not caring if his evol was making you bounce on him or not anymore as the pleasure consumes you. The only thing that matters in that moment was the approaching climax he was about to give you. Your nails dig into the material of his black uniform, damn near ripping into it as you claw at his back. “Fuck! Caleb! ‘M’gunna cum!” Once. Twice. Three ti- “Wh-what?” Your voice was a warbled cry when his hands grip your hips, stilling you over his cock.

His lips curl up into a soft, yet sadistic smile as he holds you in place, his evol working against you and keeping you pinned down. “Did I give you permission to cum yet, little one?” He plants his feet down firmly on the floor before utilizing his strength to stand up, his hands wrapping around your thighs and locking your legs around his thick, muscular waist. He moves his left hand away from your body and hooks his finger between your teeth. “Bite only my glove, pretty girl.”

You do as he says, biting down on the tip of his glove and watch with hazy eyes as he pulls his hand free. And finally. Finally. His skin meets with yours as he glides his fingertips down the valley of your breasts to your belly, his eyes widen when he feels the smallest protrusion and his lips crack into a smile. “Look at that. I’m so big and you're so small compared to me, I’m bulging out. Such a tiny, tight pussy you have mei mei.” He teases as he lays his palm flat over the small bulge and presses down on it to hear you squeal out his name as he uses his bionic arm to slam you up and down on his cock.

His knees bend slightly to stabalize himself as his hips move in tune with yours as he fucks you fast and hard. Caleb grips your ass hard, hard enough to leave the imprint of his fingers behind as he bucks up into you, jostling you on his dick as your arms come to wrap around his neck as your fingers dig into his scalp, grazing it with your nails. His eyes shift towards the large bed in the center of the room and his lips curl into another smile as he turns. His cock never leaves your soft, warm, wet walls as he walks over to where the bed was; your salacious moans making him impossibly harder as he grits his teeth.

“Fuck…just listen to her talking to me.” His hands grip your ass tighter as he lifts you up, your cuntsquealching and gushing around his girth as he pushes you back down on him. Caleb stops at the edge of the bed, your slick juices dripping down his shaft and creating a creamy ring at the base of his dick as he lays you down on the plush mattress. You immediately sink down into the softness as he pushes your legs to your chest, ankles damnnear by your ears as he folds you up.

Your breath is stolen from you as your thighs are compressed against your chest as he pistons his dick in and out of your clenching pussy. You grab at his shirt, twisting the material until the buttons pop open. Your eyes widen when the familiar silver dog tag with a small apple charm dangles in front of your eyes. The chain sways to and fro before you and your heart pounds beneath your rib cage as you feel a rush of slick gushing out of your snatch. The necklace you had given him. He kept it. You hook your finger into the chain and pull.

A surprised grunt leaves him when you tug down on his dog tag, making him lean down to meet your lips in a hungry kiss as his hips pause in their brutal snapping. He moans softly when your tongue seeks out his, curling and tasting his mouth. Caleb pulls away, his eyes shining with adoration, desire, and affection for you. “Naughty girl…look what you did to my shirt?” His left hand trails down your body, caressing your soft skin and relishing in the feel of you under his rough fingertips. “Punishment by pleasure. You’re not allowed to cum until I say so.”

His feverish words are whispered hotly against your lips as he pulls his hips back, thick shaft rubbing against your walls as his cockhead bumps against your over sensitive clit. It twitches under his touch as he saws his length through your soaked lips until you damn near were in tears. “Beg. Beg for it. Beg for my cock like the slutty girl you are for me, princess.” He coos softly.

Your teeth worry your bottom lip as tears fill your eyes at his teasing. Your body was beyond sensitive and stuck on the edge between pleasure and pain as the need to cum grows more and more intense. A part of you still wanted to deny him, to not give into his demands, but the bigger, louder part wants to submit to the pleasure. “Pul-please…Caleb…I need you…”

“Hmm?” He leans down, teasing your clit with featherlight touches as he nudges the tip of his dick at your slick hole, sinking the tip in and thrusting shallowly before pulling out. “Need me to what? C’mon. Use those big girl words.”

“Caleb!” You whine out as you try to grab at his necklace again, but he’s quicker than you and takes both your wrists in his bionic hand and pins them to the bed. “I need you to fuck me! Please make me cum again! I need it!”

A feral smirk spreads over his lips as his left hand moves to spread your labia apart, translucent strings of your slick slipping over your drooling hole as he lines up the bulbous tip of his dick. “Since you asked so nicely.” With those words, he slowly sinks back in, making sure you felt every single thick inch of him. Feeling his balls tingling, he set a slow, steady pace, hips smacking into yours with every deep thrust that makes your breast bounce. Your hands twist and nails dig into the meat of your palm as you buck your hips upward and wrap your legs around his middle, your heels fitting perfectly in the dips of his back.

He keeps up that same slow, sensual pace, his hips swirling in slow undulated thrusts as he takes his time. His pubic bone grinds into your clit with every stroke as he slips his fingers inbetween the two of you. Caleb swirls his ring and middle fingers over your clit slowly, pressing into the swollen flesh as he watches your face scrunch up and you writhe with pleasure under him. “Y’like that. Like it as I slowly make you mad with pleasure. Is that something your precious “gege” would do? No, sweetheart, I was never your brother and you knew that. The kisses we shared, the times I held you closer during thunderstorms. The many times have we done this?” Caleb’s thrusting picks up in speed as his emotions hit a new high.

You shake your head as you desperately try to cling onto what little semblance of sanity you had left. But the steady wet smacks of his pelvis against your as his dick makes your pussy gush around him makes that almost impossible. “Caleb. Caleb. Caleb.” His name leaves your lips like a mantra as tears of pleasure fall from your eyes and down the side of your face into your hairline. “You were never my brother, Caleb! You’re my lover!”

Caleb’s hips stutter as his balls tingle and he cums a little at your words. You said it. The one thing he’s been dying to hear. The one thing he was determined to make you say. “That’s fucking right. You never really hated me. You just needed me to fuck the brat out of you, huh?” His hips pick up in speed until he is thrusting in and out of you at such a speed that it makes drool bubble up in your mouth and your tears to fall faster. He captures one of your bouncing breasts between his teeth and sucks the hardened nipple into his mouth, lathing it with his tongue and circling the areola as he works the fingers of his left hand over your pretty little clit.

His balls smack against the curve of your ass as he feels the telltale signs of his release nearing. He quickly moves your legs from around his waist, placing them on his shoulders as he cages you with his body, his thrusting becomes sporadic. Caleb’s hand returns to rest above your mound and spreads, thumb still resting on that tender button as he presses down on the protrusion of his cock in your lower belly. You let out a squeal as the pressure stimulates you from the inside and your legs lock around his neck. The thick tip of his was constantly knocking against your cervix and the fine dark hairs of his pubes rub so tantalizing against your clit as his thumb rubs fast circles.

“Cum. Cum for me, baby girl. Cum so hard for me.” As if by his command, your juices squirt out of your pussy, drenching his pelvis and dripping down his shaft and balls. “Good girl. You want me to cum? Deep inside you and fill you up so full?” His fingers still work over your sensitive clit until you were screaming and begging for reprieve. “Yeah, you do.” He snaps his hips heavily. Once. Twice. Three more times before stilling, his cock twitches within your depths before his seed floods out the tip.

His cum is hot and sticky as it fills your womb, his hips resuming their slow, gentle thrusts to fuck it deeper and deeper still even as the sheer amount overflows your pussy and gushes out with every slow, deep thrust. His forehead drops against yours, the cooling sweat that beads there making your skin sticky as he pecks at your lips in sweet kisses. Caleb slowly lets your legs down from around his shoulders, his left hand massaging your hips in case there was any lingering soreness.

“You okay, little one? I shouldn’t have been so rough…” His eyes widen when your hand slips from his grip and cups his face. Your eyes were soft as you gave him a smile.

“It was perfect, Caleb. I needed this. I missed you.” Your fingers rub his cheek gently as you lean up and press your lips to his forehead softly. You wiggle your hips, feeling his cum slosh around inside you and blinking in confusion. “Uh…Caleb…”

“Hmm?” He hums as he drops his head to the junction of your neck and shoulder, skimming his lips over the soft skin. “Yes, princess?”

You fidget under him, whimpering a bit when he slowly drags his hips out, cock still hard inside you. “How are you still..”

Lilac eyes peer down into yours as a boyish smile spreads over his lips and a chuckle vibrates in his chest. “You didn’t actually think I was done with you, yet? Nope, we have all night. Round Two? Start.”

2022-25 nymphoheretic - I do not give permission to copy, edit, alter, or distribute my work. Do not adverse on tiktok. Do not repost on any other platform.

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[murderofravens]

fly me to the moon

pairing: hwang inho/young-il/frontman x fem reader

warnings: age gap (reader is 20, he's in his late 40s) angst, slight masochism, made him very fatherly again, mutual obsession, badly written smut, conflicting feelings, she's kinda crazy about him, brat reader, brat tamer inho, unhealthy dynamics, slight infantilization

summary: you're desperate to piss him off. it doesn't end well.

(part 3 the dusk till dawn series)

word count: 4.2k

FULL SERIES MASTERLIST

the ankle monitor attached to your leg itches.

you grunt in irritation as you use a spoon to scratch the area. it barely helps— you know the itching is more mental than it is physical. the mere presence of it bothers you. but at the same time, you're relieved. you were given two options— either that, or still having your hand chained to the bed with those insufferable straps. you chose the former. atleast it allows you to walk freely.

you're still not used to this lifestyle. honestly speaking, you've lost track of how long it's been. you mainly tried to count the days based upon the games, but inho doesn't allow you to witness the brutality of the newer games he's designed. he never even mentions them— pretends like it was all a dream and that everything between the two of you is okay. you pretend you don't almost piss yourself whenever his voice switches mid conversation— or when he puts on that mask and grabs his gun before leaving.

while it irritates you, a part of you is almost grateful. atleast this way, you can pretend you don't know exactly how sadistic he can be.

you almost snort at your thinking. you feel pathetic— but then again, do you have a choice?

he's given you free reign of his lavish penthouse— conveniently keeping any and all electronics or sharp objects away from you. which, you need to clap him on the back for. because the first thing you did when you were left alone and uncuffed was look for anything that you could use to hurt yourself— to touch an empathetic nerve in inho. your confidence in thinking of doing so was because he's made it clear how much the idea of losing you scared him. you tried to joke with him the other day— something about him coming back to find you bleeding out on the floor, and he got so furious that he threw his bottle of whiskey against the wall and then gave you an earful about making distasteful jokes. you almost considered running over and grabbing a glass shard and killing yourself in front of him to truly traumatize him like he did with you; but then the thought of your family and your dignity stops you.

you will not kill yourself over a man.

you've thought of many jokes since then, but never dared mention them in his presence.

currently, you were frolicking around— eyeing the massive screen on which he apparently watches the games. you'd insisted upon it once— and he'd pulled you into his lap and allowed you a single glimpse before hiding your face in the crook of his neck and patting your back till you fell asleep to the sound of 'fly me to the moon.'

your eyes narrow. you look around, desperate to find something. there's an itch within you that you need to scratch—it's different than your ankle. it's the itch to be insufferable, to take a sweet little revenge against your old man; to frustrate him and ruin his day like he ruined your life. you can only hope that if you succeed in doing so, he won't kill your entire family in a fit of rage. you've been forcing your heart to believe he's only bluffing, even though you know he isn't.

your eyes fall upon the side table placed by the couch. you look at it, then at the screen. then back at it. with a newfound vigour, you rush forward and pull out the drawer— it's empty except for a few files. you toss them out and hold the drawer in both hands, before looking back at the screen with the most devilish glint in your eyes.

you let out a victorious roar before lunging— using all the strength you can muster and then thrashing the drawer against the screen.

it doesn't budge. the blow has you stumbling over your steps, and the drawer falls upon your feet. you let out a cry, tears of frustration appearing in your eyes. you scream and pick up the drawer again, and then thrash it against the screen over and over— till your hands hurt and sweat builds across your skin.

the screen remains spotless.

amidst your one sided battle, you fail to hear the sound of the door opening.

"it's shatterproof." a heavy voice announces, distorted through the mask.

panting, you drop the drawer and shoot him the meanest glare you can muster with mascara running down your cheeks. he cocks his head to the side— the barrier of the mask between you two making you feel uneasy.

"are you done acting like a child?"

you release a heavy, shaky breath as you stare at him. you want to jump at him, tear that mask off and slam his head against the wall. you want to kiss him and beg him to spare you and your family. your heart races with adrenaline— and your skin feels hot. acting like a child, he says. he's treated you like a child forever. what's so wrong in acting like one?

you slick your hair back, eyes darting around the room— examining everything you can see, till an idea pops in your head.

against your better judgement, you pick up the drawer again. slowly, like a predator, you walk to the side, your gaze never leaving his figure. you stand before his music box— the one with the pretty jazz band that plays 'fly me to the moon,' whenever he watches the games. you've heard it quite a few times since you got here, and you have buried your head in the pillows a few times to avoid hearing it.

you used to adore frank sinatra, but now you can only associate his lyrics with impending doom.

you wish he wasn't wearing that mask, because you would've loved to see his reaction when you ruined something he visibly finds comfort in. you would've felt bad, if he hadn't done the same to you. if he hadn't taken your young-il from you.

you raise the drawer, and then bring it down fiercely. it almost happens in slow motion— how the music box shatters into pieces, and the tiny dolls fall to the floor.

you pant as you drop the drawer then, and wipe the sweat off your forehead. suddenly feeling brave, you shoot him the most smug smile you can muster in your breathless haze.

the silence that follows is suffocating. you blink at him, shoulders rising and falling with your heavy breaths — while he stands there patiently with his hands clasped behind his back.

"are you gonna keep standing there, watching me?" you ask, quirking an eyebrow.

you resist the urge to step back as he advances towards you ever so slowly. he looks at his broken music box, then redirects his blank, masked face back at you.

you egged him on, "aren't you gonna say something?"

"was this supposed to anger me?" he asks. you can detect a hint of amusement in his voice, "a man in my position doesn't have materialistic attachments."

you scoff, vision almost turning red with rage at his tone.

"i think i can afford another music box," he adds dryly, cocking his head to the side, "but what do i do about your manners?"

your eyes narrow with agitation— you were so desperate to piss him off, to evoke an actual reaction out of him; but he isn't giving you one. it frustrates you. before you can do anything, his foot pops out, hits your leg in just the right place to make you shriek and drop to your knees immediately— till the shattered pieces of the box dig into your skin painfully— wood and glass.

"fuck!" you wince, letting out another pained groan. he watches you blankly, and in this moment you wish that mask would just disappear. it makes him look more like a stranger than he already is. you want to see his reaction, even if it is at the expense of your pain. "you— ow! you asshole—"

"language." he chides, bending down slightly so he can grab your hair and yank your head up. you squirm around, trying to get up but he holds you in place, "why must you keep acting like a child—"

"why, i thought i was a child!" you snap back at him angrily, recalling his words from when he refused to send you back into the games. you're furious, "why shouldn't i act like one if you keep treating me that way!"

"do you not want me to?" he asks, giving you a humourless chuckle, "you want me to treat you like the adult you are, huh, darling? i'll treat you like an adult."

you grumble in confusion and he gives your head a little push as he lets go of your hair and straightens up. his hand comes down to shift his robe to the side so he can have access to his dress pants. he pulls it down slightly along with his boxers, revealing how hard he's been by your little show of defiance. your eyes widen and you almost choke on your spit as he grabs your head again, his free hand guiding his cock to your eager mouth, "fuck— is this what you wanted?" he groans, throwing his head back slightly as you wrap your lips around him with the enthusiasm of a slut. he's so unbelievably thick— and all your knowledge for sucking dick comes from porn, so you try your best— forgetting almost every vengeful thought as the skin of his neck is exposed to your vision.

you have never wanted a man this badly.

small cuts on the skin of your knees open up because of the damage you caused, but you can't bring yourself to think about it— not when you lick a long, wet stripe on the underside of his cock, before placing a teasing kiss upon his tip. he looks down at you again, his gloved hand digging into your hair, guiding your head up and down as you try to take him fully into your mouth. your hands come up in an attempt to hold what your mouth can't, but he slaps them away, "put those behind your back."

this time, you obey. your eyes water as he immediately pushes himself to the hilt till your nose presses against the coarse hair at his pubic bone— and only then you know that you are truly gone, because you moan at the smell of him. he lets out a soft grunt again when he pulls your head back, before thrusting in and out of your mouth gently. your hands stay clasped behind your back as he uses your mouth, his balls slapping against your chin as your watery eyes look up at him. you wish you could see him— you want to see his face, you want to see what he looks like when he cums in your mouth for the first time.

you whimper, pulling your head back slightly. he allows you, and you lean down to press a needy kiss to his balls before licking up his cock again. your voice is hoarse when you speak, "let me see your face."

he looks at you for a bit— the stoic face of the mask making you feel more and more isolated— like you're pleasuring someone else. and perhaps, you are, in a way. this isn't your young-il anymore.

"after that little stunt," he answers quietly, voice grim, "you don't deserve it."

you almost whine as he grabs your head again and forces his cock back down your throat— and then you realize what this is. what you thought started as some sort of reward is actually a punishment. you whimper as you gag around him, choking with each sharp thrust as his movements begin to get harsher. tears run down your face as you glare at him, and in retaliation you bring your hand up and grab his thigh. he hisses at being disobeyed, pulls your head forward till you nose is quite literally pressed against his stomach. "hands. behind your back."

despite struggling to breathe, you shake your head as best as you can given the situation. you can't see his face, but you can tell the exact expression he must be making. the one where his eyes get all intense, and his lips start quivering with rage, as if he wants to explode.

you moan slightly and take the opportunity to pull your head back. and then get back to sucking his cock— your tongue rolling deliciously across his shaft as you cup his balls. it almost makes him stumble with shock— the sudden pleasure he feels, judging by the throaty moan that escapes him. motivated by his newfound weakness, you jerk him off while mouthing at the soft skin of his balls, and he almost bends down as he lets out a raspy groan, "fuck! that feels— fuck!"

"language," you tease slightly, voice raspy. you enthusiastically indulge him, your brain suddenly consisting of him, and only him. his voice. his face. his moans. the way his eyes crinkle. you switch from sucking his balls to kissing his tip and jerking him off.

as if to reward you, he suddenly pulls his mask off, one hand of his going up to hold onto the wall for support. he squeezes his eyes shut, and the mere sight of his face has you crumbling— you let out a soft moan as you take him down your throat again. one of your hands slips into your panties, and you start rubbing your clit with vigour as he fucks your throat.

"you little fucking brat—" he grunts, thrusting shallowly in and out of your mouth, the vein in his neck popping and a few strands of his styled hair falling beautifully down his forehead. he's hot when he swears, you think— starry eyed as you look at him. you've never seen a more angelic sight. as you gurgle around his cock, he holds your head down again and throws his head back, cumming with a loud gasp. you cum with a choked moan of your own, your hand shaking as you rub circles into your clit, overstimulating yourself.

you choke as you feel him spill down your throat, and he pants heavily as he slowly pulls himself back, before quickly tucking himself into his pants. you swallow it and cough slightly, covering your mouth with the back of your hand as you wince a little— it leaves a bitter and sticky aftertaste, but nothing too bad. you're sure you'll get used to it. he grabs your wrist and bends down to stick your wet fingers in his mouth, licking your slick off. his tongue rolls around the digits and you moan, eyes dazed as he ensures your entire palm is clean, before pulling back while smacking his lips and humming in appreciation like you were the most prized delicacy in the world.

as if nothing happened, he swiftly picks you up like you're a mere doll— carrying you bridal style to the bathroom. your hair— damp with sweat, sticks to your skin, and your eyes are bloodshot.

and though you can remember your original intention being wanting to take revenge, this somehow felt much more better.

perhaps, you really are too far gone.

you look off into space thoughtfully as he settles you on the bathroom counter. his face is uncovered but guarded— he takes his gloves off, grabs a towel and wets it with water before tending to you. with utmost gentleness, he pulls your bottoms down and tosses them in the basket, before analyzing your wounds.

your panties are so wet it's almost shameful. you got that horny just by sucking his cock. he glances at your face, and you look away sheepishly. the smell of you makes his head spin, but he needs to concentrate on something else. you clear your throat and redirect your attention to his face.

you stare at him while he stares at your knees. he gently wipes the blood off, ensuring no remaining pieces of the music box stick to your skin. he disinfects your wounds and it makes you hiss— he almost winces at the sound, but you're not sure.

you don't understand why he's doing this. how can he hurt you and tend to your wounds at the same time? but then again, how can you hate him and let him do this to you at the same time too?

perhaps, you both are confused. you need someone to rely on, and he needs someone to need him. but neither of you know how to deal with the complications that come with your unconventional relationship, so you pretend it's normal. it's okay.

you look at him but he doesn't meet your gaze. you wish you could go back in time, or travel to another dimension. meet him under different circumstances. perhaps, that relationship would've been healthy. you clear your throat, and change the subject.

"you know, back in the hall," it hurts a little to talk, but you want to hear his voice, and you're desperate to talk about something. anything to end this silence. "before i was leaving to come to you, the old lady said something funny."

he stiffens at the mention of her, and you pretend not to notice. he doesn't glance at you as he cleans your knees, before placing a comforting palm on your thigh. he hums in question, gaze lowered.

"she called you my father," you chuckle slightly, your voice suddenly getting shaky, "isn't that funny? such a funny thing to assume."

he tenses at your words and clenches his jaw. his thumb rubs circles onto the skin of your thigh, before he lets out a small chuckle of his own— it sounds dry. he finally looks up at you— and you almost see a glimpse of your young-il in his eyes. you think he looks upset. you wonder if you offended him, and you consider apologizing, but he interrupts your train of thought.

"really?" he asks quietly, giving you a small smile. it's odd, engaging in casual conversation with him after the little fight you two just had. "well, with how many times i looked after you—"

"—you might as well be," you finish his sentence with a roll of your eyes, "yeah, i know."

he gives a soft, hearty laugh then, tapping your knee. "yeah." he trails off, voice getting quieter. distant. "might as well be."

his mind drifts off. if he hadn't been so late, his kid would've been around your age. perhaps, that's why he immediately grew protective of you during the games. perhaps, it was fate.

your gaze softens, face falling slightly. he looks distant again— like he's fighting a war within himself. you swallow the lump in your throat.

"i saw you that way at first, you know." you said quietly, blinking down at your lap. "you made me feel safe." and now all i feel is fear around you.

he looks at you wordlessly, gaze unreadable. he's thinking— reading you, but you can't do the same with him. he has way more experience at hiding his thoughts and expressions than you do. he's spent decades confined within these walls with people in masks being his only companions— he learned how to wear one himself. permanently. he wants to tell you that you're an open book to him— since the start.

"do i not anymore?" he questions instead, cocking his head to side. you roll your eyes, shoulders slumping as you shoot him an impassive glare.

"seriously?" you ask, voice obvious. it makes him smirk slightly, and he clenches his jaw to hide it.

he cups your face, pulls it up as he looks into your eyes. you don't say a word, simply glaring at him as he places a kiss upon your forehead.

"let me tell you," he quirks an eyebrow— a hint of a smile on his face as he squishes your cheeks, "no kid of mine would be a brat."

you scoff, pushing his hands off as you look away from him. he looks unbothered as he grabs you and puts you back down on the floor.

"i can do that myself, thanks." you huff, straightening your shoulders as you brush past him.

he grabs your hand, pulls you back towards him till you collide into his chest. he cups the side of your face, gently leaning down to rub your noses together. it almost leaves you breathless with how flustered you feel.

"would you rather i give you the silent treatment again?" his voice is unabashedly soft as he speaks. "you didn't like that last time."

your breath hitches, and your heart begins to race again. you clench your jaw before closing your eyes, releasing a shaky breath. you remember collapsing in his arms and crying your heart out when he gave you the silent treatment— being ignored by him hurt and made you feel alone in a way you hadn't felt in years.

you shake your head no.

he smiles. it's almost sinister. his eyes are still crinkly and he would look so utterly adorable to you before— but now, you know his intentions. you can tell when he's smiling only because he's hiding a different approach.

"then you'll behave, won't you?" he whispers, placing a soft kiss upon your lips. you blink rapidly before nodding again.

"good," he says quietly, softly tapping your cheek before letting go and composing himself. "i'll clean that mess up. go back to bed and take a nap, you must be tired after that little show."

you grit your teeth before shooting him a glare, and he merely blinks at you, amused, before you rush back to the bedroom.

he follows not long after, wearing only a black undershirt and his pants. you stare at him as he gently places a tray on your bedside table. you sit up, looking at it curiously. it's a cup of tea.

"for your throat," he explains softly with a pat to your head. the gesture makes your heart feel warm— and once again you start wishing you had met him under different circumstances where he didn't practically kidnap you. that way, your guilty conscience wouldn't berate you for desiring him so much, for being so comfortable around him.

he stands by his own side of the bed, fiddling with his wristwatch. you sit up properly and blow on the tea before drinking it, humming in appreciation. it's your favourite beverage.

he gets into bed soon enough, sighing to himself. you place the empty cup on the table and look off to the side, not wanting to meet his gaze, no matter how good he looks.

he says your name softly and you melt.

you look at him and he tenderly caresses your face with the back of his hand. you wish you could read his thoughts.

you swallow your pride and say what you've been thinking.

"why did you never apologize to me?"

his gaze hardens slightly and his hand pauses. you swallow hard as you await his answer.

"because i'm not sorry," he says calmly, "I don't regret anything i did."

you clench your jaw, "not even hurting me or my feelings?"

he chuckles a little— amused at your naivety, "I don't regret doing anything that brought you to me."

you blink at him before looking away. he forces you to meet his gaze by grabbing your chin.

"i don't regret anything," he repeats lowly, eyes intense. "as long as i get to have you."

"you hurt me." you whisper, voice cracking.

"i know." he nods, "you'll get over it. you're my brave girl, aren't you?"

you grit your teeth so hard you fear your jaw might snap. you glare at him, while he looks at you indifferently. wordlessly, he opens his arms and welcomes you into the comforting little space he created. you consider running off, defying him, breaking the tea cup and using the glass to threaten him or just killing yourself— anything.

bur you don't. like always, you succumb to him, and give up control. you eagerly crawl into his side and he holds your head against his chest. he pulls the sheets over the two of you and pecks your forehead.

"still don't feel safe?" he asks, almost teasingly. you can't believe he keeps trying to joke with you— he's cruel. you scoff, giving him a weak shove and he grabs your wrist and holds your palm against his chest. you can feel his heart beating. you wonder if yours beats this loud too.

you get comfortable a few moments after, and force yourself not to think about your life before the games. before him. you wonder if your family is happy, if they're wondering where you are. you wonder if your mother thinks you're dead, you wonder if she still prays for you. even if your family thinks you're dead, you hope they find happiness and move on from the thought of you. you hope they live a life of ease.

the thoughts make you sniffle and you hold back the urge to cry, burying your head further into his chest. he hums softly, patting your head almost paternally till you fall asleep, and only when he is completely sure that you're out of it, that he allows himself to close his eyes too.

and the next day, the cycle repeats.

A/N: another song title because i have no creativity... anyway this was meant to be a blurb but i ended up writing a glimpse into their relationship because i love them so much. and well.. the smut is mid but i hope you guys enjoyed it. thank you for reading and thank you for the support!! i love all of you.

tags: @bonelessghoul @cowuies @auspicious-lilana @politicstanner @verouys @gloriousjellyfisharcade @carolinevoight @shadowmoonlight0604 @ancrygurl @sunoon @jessgentleman @colorwastaken @loversroq @clown-around-and-find-out @popcorm @xcinnamonmalfoyx @robertthehoover @iloveoldermen0204 @kpopsmutty69 @iamkali @thebluehair23

[calebsmuse]

not me haunting your asks in every single blog you own 😈 sooo, do you write parents!au? bc I wanted to request some scenario abt how sylus, caleb and xavier would react to their kids telling u to shut up. I KNOW ITS WEIRD BUT ITS A OLD TREND I THINK?? anyway, love ya babe 💘💋💋

੭⠀ A little prank.

⋆⠀AUTHOR'S NOTES: I love parents!au so much 😭

⋆⠀FEATURING: Xavier, Sylus, Caleb.

⋆⠀WARNING: English is not my first language, so it may contain some mistakes.

Your son’s favorite pastime was annoying his father, and he was certainly better at it than anyone else. Not only that, but he also managed to convince you to help with yet another one of his… pranks.

The boy smiled when he saw his father heading to the kitchen and turned back to his video game. Not long after, you walked into the room with something in hand. “Sweetheart, could you take this—”

“Shut up, mom,” he tried to say in an irritated tone, but a smile was plastered across his face.

𝜗ৎ ⠀⠀XAVIER

Not even five seconds had passed before your son was groaning in pain, Xavier’s slipper lying on the couch beside him after hitting the back of his head squarely. “Dad—”

Xavier raised the other slipper, pointing it at the boy. “Apologize. Now,” he said, his eyebrows furrowing. “Is that any way to talk to your mother?”

“But I was busy, and she—” Once again, the boy didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence, the other slipper flying straight at him. Xavier crossed his arms, his gaze fixed on his son.

You widened your eyes and placed a hand on your husband’s shoulder, squeezing it lightly. “Okay, okay, it was a… joke, just a prank.”

Xavier gave a faint smirk, glancing at you. “…Yeah, I knew that.” He pulled you into a hug, sticking his tongue out at your son. “You think I’d stop at that if I saw him disrespecting you like that?”

𝜗ৎ ⠀⠀SYLUS

Sylus prided himself on being an exemplary father. He was patient, fun—or so he thought—and wealthy. I mean, surely his son was already having a better childhood than most people who came from the same place Sylus had, right?

And perhaps it was exactly that freedom and comfort in his presence that made the boy feel confident enough to make that kind of joke.

“I must’ve misheard. Definitely,” Sylus said loud enough for both of you to hear. You turned away so he wouldn’t see your expression, while your son simply grimaced.

“Dad, she could’ve just asked one of my uncles to go—or, I don’t know, gone herself!” the boy said, spinning the pieces of a pistol between his fingers.

Sylus’s steps were almost inaudible; it was as if he had teleported to his son’s side. He crossed his arms, an irritated expression on his face. His son had never seen that look before—at least, not directed at him.

“Don’t you dare talk to your mother like that under this roof,” he said. “I don’t care if she could’ve asked someone else—if she tells you to do something, you do it. She brought you into this world.”

The boy couldn’t hold back his laughter, bursting out in hysterics. Your husband opened his mouth to say something but stopped when he saw you laughing as well. He let out a sigh, rubbing his face. “You too now?”

𝜗ৎ ⠀⠀CALEB

Honestly, your son was expecting Caleb to yell at him or chase after him, but it was even more terrifying to see him stay silent, slowly turning to face the boy.

He froze, setting the video game controller down on the coffee table. Caleb’s eyes stayed fixed on him, and his silence lingered just long enough to make the boy shift uncomfortably under the stare.

When Caleb finally spoke, his voice was strangely calm—and that wasn’t exactly a good thing. “You have five seconds to do as your mother said and come back here, and another five to apologize and explain yourself.”

You let out an awkward laugh before wrapping your arms around your husband. “It was just a joke, I swear.” Caleb glanced at you, slipping a hand under your shirt to give you a pinch. “Ouch! It was his idea!”

He rolled his eyes but let out a relieved laugh, despite his irritation with your newfound way of spending free time. “I should’ve known.”

[alwaysobsessed777]

PANCAKES FOR DINNER - N.M.

So I'm not sure how many words are in this....but there's not warnings, this is just kinda cute???Anyways....enjoyyyyyy

The car ride was tense. I hadn't planned on leaving so soon but work changed what it had wanted me to do. Nika's grip on the steering wheel bleached her knuckles, her jaw stayed tense. I couldn't help but feel guilty, I randomly sprang this info on her the last second. Our summer plans before she went back to UConn for summer training and I went back to working out my musical career were ruined.

"I'm really sorry about this...Nika, I'll make it up to you," her jaw seemed to relax, her hands loosened it's grip.

"No need to apologize, I'm just....I just wanted to spend this next month with you," I almost wanted to spill every feeling, every thought I had about this woman right now after hearing those words. But we were just friends, nothing more.

"sometimes I wish I had a normal dream, like, being a doctor or...or whatever other people want their jobs to be."

A smile spread across the girl's face, a silent celebration went off in my head. "Being the next big pop star is no easy thing. You're dreams were just stronger than others, that's why you're making it a reality."

"Becoming a professional basketball player isn't that easy either."

She snickered. "I'm far from professional, but I'll take it."

"College.... professional....same thing," I paused, "you'll definitely go pro though. You're literally amazing at what you do."

A silence stretched between us, a quiet awkwardness. "I don't know if I will."

"Nika, please, if they don't have you going to like the Aces or the Storm.... they've lost one of the best players to ever walk this Earth."

As heat rose to her cheeks, a small smirk formed on my lips, "Stop, that's the biggest lie you've ever told....and you've told a lot."

"I never lie," that was lie in itself. It's not like I've been lying to her for three years now on how I only wanna be friends.

"Puh-leahs, all you do is lie. Like, when I first met you, you thought you could fool me by saying your straight...did you think I was that stupid," I rolled my eyes, "but it is very kind of you to speak so highly of me." Her dramatic hand-to-the-heart, the batting of her eyelashes, I couldn't help but laugh a little.

The light banter almost making me forget the fact I was getting ready to get on a plane....key word, almost. My palms began to sweat, I could feel my mind start to spiral, I hated planes....and I was getting ready to get in one.

"Hey," The girl beside me slides her hand to my thigh, resting it there for some comfort. "You alright?"

"Aerophobia."

"What?"

"Fear of flying in planes," I quickly faced her, her face softened.

"It's gonna be alright, okay?" Her hand intertwined with mine. The warmth of her hands fighting with the chill of mine, it brought me back from my spiral. Only a little.

I nod, "look at me." Her hands encompassing my face, her thumbs rubbed gently across my cheekbones. "Everything is gonna be okay. You're gonna be okay. I'll even wait here with you til you have to get on, alright?"

I nodded, pulling her into a hug. A hug from her seemed to make the rest of the world cease to exist. All I needed was her, her warmth, and the comfort she provided.

But, I couldn't have just that. I had to get on some stupid plane to achieve some stupid dream.

"Alright, we're gonna go inside and just chill til you get on the plane, okay?" I nod, "I better get a call when you land in Cali."

I chuckle, "you will. No doubts about it."

We walked in, hands together, and I couldn't help but let the nerves get to me again. "I wish you could come with me."

Nika's smile seemed to brighten the world around us, "if I could, I would. Sadly, I gotta stay here in ole Croatia and hang with the family."

"I'm gonna miss you," then my thoughts spiraled. The possibility of a crash, even though it was like 1 in 100,000 that I could get in a fatal one. The thought of never seeing Nika again. I wouldn't have been able to tell her how I feel....so I did it. "Nika, I just gotta let you know I have so many feelings for you. Not just the friendly ones, like, the more than friends ones. I wish I was with you, like, I like you so much. I just feel like I make things up in my head that you might like me too, then I go down this rabbit hole of you never actually liking me, not even as a friend. Anyways, I feel like when I'm around you I can't help but feel like the entire world couldn't provide me with as much happiness and you do. I....I...God I think I love you, Nika."

Her eyes widened, surprise mixed with whatever feelings she had towards me, it was written all over her face. I should've just jumped on the plane and hoped it crashed cause I felt more embarrassed now than ever before. At least I'd be at peace with being on the plane if it meant never knowing what Nika really wanted to say.

"How long have you thought that?"

Not the questions, "for...for about three years."

She nodded, stepping closer to me, "You really think I would ever not like you?

""Platonic or romantic?"

"Either."

"Both....I just thought I liked you so much I was making things up in m-"

She cut me off. Her lips crashed to mine. The way her hands pulled me impossibly closer by the waist. My hands shot to her hair, wanting to bring her even closer to me. I had always wanted this.

"God, I've wanted to do that for years," her whispered words left me shocked. I pulled back a bit.

"What?"

"Y/N, you have no clue how bad I've been wanting to do that. Ever since I've gotten to know you...it's like you draw me even closer...wanting more....needing more. I just thought maybe I was reading into things. You're confident and charming, why wouldn't I think you were like that with everyone. But to know you feel the same way....I wish I would've made the move a long time ago."

I couldn't help but smile. Her words causing a heat to rise through my neck, settling on my cheeks. "You're joking."

"Nope," popping the 'p', "I couldn't have been more serious in my life."

My flight was being called, and I couldn't help but notice the nerves had been settled...or I was just currently distracted by the fact Nika had feelings for me.

"So....I gotta go," before I could keep going, Nika planted another soft kiss on my lips, "but maybe I should tell my manager nevermind."

Her laughed filled the space, "Nope, gotta become the biggest pop star in the world. I need you to surpass Taylor Swift one day."

"Whatever," I turned to leave, but took one more glance back at the brunette, "I'll call you when I get off, promise."

A/N: I got one done after months of not being on here!!! Hopefully this is good...enough cause I don't know how I feel about it. @ittiwdwysylm here ya go, Nika fic out!!

[lipstick-and-libraries]

Rainfall and Realizations PT.2

𓋜 Pairing: Minho (XO, Kitty) x fem! Reader

𓋜 Series: The Roommate Exchange

𓋜 Summary: A rainy afternoon in Kitty’s and your dorm brings you closer to her charming but flustered friend, Minho. Between teasing remarks, upcoming secrets and an unexpected walk, sparks begin to fly as Minho starts to see you in a new light.

𓋜 Notes:

Hello again!,

I just want to say, I'm so surprised that the first little drabble has reached about 100 people at this point, thank you to everyone reading and leaving a like <3

While I didn't think I'd be continuing the first part, I am very very happy to do so. I have a couple Ideas, so lets see how long this little slowburn is gonna take, but do feel free to give feedback, ideas or corrections :)

Thank you again, and I hope you have fun with this next part, and the newest little secret (Y/N) possibly has

Taglist!! <3: @finnbbl, @literallysza(tysm, ily)

The days following Minho’s first meeting with (Y/N) were…confusing. For someone who prided himself on being the most self-assured person at KISS, Minho now found himself unsettled, distracted, and unusually tongue-tied.

He hated how much he found himself looking for excuses to hang out in Kitty’s dorm, pretending to help with her chaotic plans or offering to grab coffee with her, only to find himself scanning the room for (Y/N).

And then there was (Y/N) herself. If she noticed Minho’s newfound awkwardness, she didn’t let on. She greeted him the same way every time—calm, composed, and polite but never overly enthusiastic. It drove him crazy.

One rainy afternoon, Minho found himself at Kitty’s dorm again. It had become a ritual of sorts—Kitty would ramble on about her latest love triangle (or square, depending on the day), and Minho would half-listen, his attention split between her words and the hope that (Y/N) would walk in.

“…and then she had the nerve to ask if I wanted to go shopping with her,” Kitty was saying, pacing the small living room.

Minho leaned back on the couch, pretending to listen. His attention kept drifting to the door.

“And you’re not even listening,” Kitty said, snapping her fingers in front of his face.

“What? No, I am,” Minho said quickly. “Shopping with Yuri. Terrible idea. Definitely don’t do it.”

Kitty sighed, flopping onto the armchair across from him. “You’re the worst, you know that?”

Before Minho could respond, the door creaked open. (Y/N) stepped inside, balancing a tray of fresh cookies. She glanced at them, her lips curving into a small smile.

“Kitty, I made a little something for you,” she said, setting the tray on the counter. Her gaze flickered to Minho briefly. “Oh. Hi, Minho.”

Minho straightened up instinctively. “Hey.”

Kitty raised an eyebrow, looking between the two of them. “Cookies? You’ve been spoiling me lately, (Y/N).”

“It’s nothing,” (Y/N) said, putting a couple of them on a platter for Kitty and sliding it across the counter. “I wanted to take some time to bake something again anyway.”

Minho hesitated, then cleared his throat. “Any left over for me?”

(Y/N) glanced at him, her expression unreadable, before nodding. She prepared another plate and handed it to him. Their fingers brushed briefly as he took it, and Minho felt his stomach flip.

“Thanks,” he muttered, taking a bite to hide his reaction.

As the rain pattered against the windows, the three of them settled into a strangely comfortable rhythm. Kitty alternated between brainstorming ideas and scrolling through her phone, while Minho and (Y/N) exchanged occasional remarks about the weather and school.

Minho found himself watching (Y/N) more than he intended. She sat cross-legged on the floor, her plate balanced precariously on the edge of the table. Her hair was slightly frizzy from the humidity, and she wore an oversized sweater that looked impossibly soft.

“So,” (Y/N) said suddenly, looking at Minho. “What’s your role in Kitty’s master plan today?”

Minho blinked, caught off guard. “Uh, I’m the…idea guy?”

“Really?” (Y/N) said, raising an eyebrow. “Because it seems like Kitty’s doing all the talking.”

Kitty snorted. “Exactly. He’s useless.”

“Hey,” Minho protested, feigning offense. “I’m providing moral support.”

“Moral support doesn’t count if you’re just sitting there looking pretty,” (Y/N) said, her tone light but teasing.

Minho’s cheeks flushed at the unexpected compliment—or was it an insult? He couldn’t tell.

“Looking pretty is a full-time job,” he shot back, recovering quickly.

(Y/N) smiled faintly, her eyes glinting with amusement. “Must be exhausting.”

Soon after, (Y/N) excused herself to work on her writing, leaving Minho and Kitty alone again.

“You’re staring,” Kitty said, not looking up from her phone.

“What?” Minho said, snapping out of his thoughts.

“At (Y/N),” Kitty clarified, smirking. “You’ve been staring at her all afternoon.”

“I have not,” Minho said, a little too quickly.

“Right,” Kitty said, drawing out the word. “You’re so obvious, it’s painful.”

Minho groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not…staring. I just think she’s—”

“Gorgeous?” Kitty supplied.

Minho sighed. “Fine. Yes. But it’s not like that.”

“Sure it isn’t,” Kitty said, her smirk widening.

The tea that was made to go along with the cookies was long gone, the rain still drumming softly against the windows, and Minho couldn’t stop replaying the interaction in his head. Her words—“Must be exhausting”—had been light, teasing, but there was something about the way (Y/N) looked at him when she said it. Not dismissive, not disinterested. Amused, maybe even intrigued. Or was he imagining that?

“Minho,” Kitty’s voice cut through his thoughts, dragging him back to reality.

“Huh?”

Kitty rolled her eyes dramatically. “You’re really bad at hiding it.”

“Hiding what?” he said, attempting a casual shrug that probably looked as awkward as it felt.

“You, staring at her like she’s some mysterious treasure map you’re trying to figure out,” Kitty said, her smirk firmly in place.

“I don’t stare,” Minho said defensively. “I glance. Occasionally, and don't mention it again, we just talked about that 20 minutes ago!”

Kitty let out a laugh, shaking her head. “You’re in trouble, I'm just trying to get that into your head”

“I’m not,” Minho insisted, though the heat rising in his cheeks told a different story. “I just think she’s…interesting.”

“Oh, she is,” Kitty agreed. “But don’t think you’re going to win her over by just sitting here and looking pretty.”

“I don’t—” Minho started, but Kitty cut him off.

“Please. I know you. You think a few charming smiles and a well-timed compliment are all it takes.”

Minho scowled, but he couldn’t exactly argue. That had worked for him in the past. “And what, oh wise Kitty, do you suggest I do?”

Kitty tilted her head, considering. “Maybe try talking to her. Actually talking. Ask her about her life, her interests—be genuine for once.”

Minho opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, the door to (Y/N)’s room creaked open. She stepped out, clutching her laptop and a notebook, her hair pulled into a clip-up hairstyle.

“I’m heading to the library,” (Y/N) said, glancing between them.

“In this weather?” Kitty asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s quieter when it’s raining,” (Y/N) said with a small shrug.

"Besides, I want to meet up with a guy that needs tutoring, he's hopeless"

"Just some guy, huh?" Minho pauses for a second, watching her every move.

"A random guy that you're bringing some of your cookies?"

(Y/N turns around, facing him with a judging look: "If you really think about it, you're also 'Just a Guy' at the moment"

Minho's brows furrow, and you could almost hear Kitty's low wince in reaction to her statement

“I’ll walk with you,” Minho said, standing before he even realized what he was doing.

(Y/N) blinked, clearly surprised. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” Minho said, his tone a little too eager. He quickly added, “I mean, I’ve been cooped up here for hours. I could use some air.”

Kitty barely stifled a laugh, but (Y/N) simply nodded. “Alright, if you’re sure.”

Minho grabbed his jacket, ignoring Kitty’s smug expression as he followed (Y/N) out the door.

The rain had softened into a light drizzle by the time they stepped outside. (Y/N) pulled her hood up, clutching her laptop bag close as they walked.

“So,” Minho began, struggling to find a topic. “The library, huh? Big plans?”

“I just need some quiet to work,” (Y/N) said, glancing at him briefly.

“On what?” he asked, genuinely curious.

She hesitated for a moment before answering. “I write sometimes. Nothing major.”

“Like essays?” Minho guessed.

“Not exactly,” she said, her lips twitching into a faint smile. “More like…thoughts. Stories. Poetry, sometimes.”

Minho raised an eyebrow, genuinely impressed. “Wow. I didn’t know that.”

“Well, now you do,” (Y/N) said lightly.

They walked in silence for a moment, the rain-soaked campus unusually quiet around them. Minho found himself stealing glances at her, trying to piece together the puzzle of who she was.

“What about you?” (Y/N) asked suddenly, catching him off guard. “What do you do when you’re not hanging out with Kitty or obsessing over your wardrobe?”

“I don’t obsess over clothes, or only hang out with Kitty” Minho said defensively.

(Y/N) gave him a knowing look: "You cant deny the fashion thing, and you do hang out with Kitty a lot at the moment, you seem to be attached at the hip"

“Okay, maybe a little, but not the Kitty thing! She's nice don't get me wrong, but..” he admitted, stopping his rant when he saw (Y/N)'s expression

“But I do other things. Like…uh…” He faltered, realizing he didn’t have a good answer. “I’m pretty into music,” he said finally. “I play piano.”

(Y/N)’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “Really? I wouldn’t have guessed that.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” she said, her tone teasing. “You don’t exactly give off ‘classical music prodigy’ vibes.”

“First of all, I’m not a prodigy,” Minho said. “And second, I’m full of surprises.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” (Y/N) said, her faint smile returning.

They reached the library steps, and (Y/N) paused, turning to face him.

“Thanks for walking with me,” she said.

“Anytime,” Minho said, and for once, he meant it.

(Y/N) hesitated, like she wanted to say something else, but instead, deciding for an alternative.

"Minho?"

"Yes?"

"If you ever get lonely when Kitty's out causing chaos, feel free to stop by anyway, alright?"

Minho and her shared a smile before she nodded and disappeared through the library doors.

Minho stood there for a moment, watching the door close behind her. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, replaying their conversation in his head. It wasn’t much, but it felt like progress.

By the time he got back to the dorm, Kitty was waiting for him, sprawled out on the couch with a knowing grin.

“Well?” she asked.

“Well, what?”

Kitty rolled her eyes. “How’d it go? Did you manage to form a complete sentence?”

“Very funny,” Minho said, kicking off his shoes. “We talked.”

“And?”

“And…she’s interesting,” Minho admitted, flopping onto the couch.

She gave him an expecting look, leaning forward towards him

He have her a judgy up-and-down look before asking: "What?"

Kitty groaned and shook her head.

"And? There was something else I know it"

Minho's lips twitched into something resembling a smile before gaining back his facial control

"Well...", he hesitated for a second, "She did indirectly invite me to hang out?"

Kitty’s grin widened. “You’re so doomed.”

That night, as Minho sat at his desk, he found himself scrolling through his phone, staring at the submission screen for the anonymous blog everyone at KISS loved. He didn’t know why he was considering it, but something about (Y/N)’s quiet confidence had gotten under his skin.

Without overthinking, he typed out a message:

“How do you get to know someone who’s completely different from anyone you’ve ever met? Someone who makes you feel like you’re not as put together as you think you are?”

He hesitated before hitting send, then shook his head and closed the app. It wasn’t like she would ever see it.

Or so he thought.

(part 3 coming soon <3)

[mattsbows]

surfer!chris. . .meets you

chris was flying down the curvy roads of kauai, tapping his fingers along the steering wheel to “walking on a dream” by empire of the sun. he was careless and worry free like always, a distinct change to his personality after moving to hawaii. the smell of salt water, coconut, and sunscreen wafted through the doors of his open air jeep, reminding him just how much he loved living on this island. he was pretty sure he could stay here forever and never tire of it. it didn’t matter how many times he drove by the endless palm trees that lined the road or the quaint acai bowl stand on the left. 

as he drove, chris thought about how he had gotten here. just one year ago he had been a burnt out content creator, struggling to thrive in the oversaturated market that was modern youtube. eventually, he’d given up on the dream, making one last “goodbye” video for his subscribers, packing his bags, and getting the hell out of LA. 

being a lifeguard wasn’t what he had planned, but when his brothers matt and nick had invited him on a trip to hawaii as a way to cool his head, he’d fallen in love with the islands and just never left. it wasn’t exactly the most well paying job, but it was work regardless and it left him with plenty of time to do the activity that had kept him here anyway: surfing. it didn’t matter that his bank account had taken a significant hit since his content creation days. he was happy, and that was that. 

sure, it wasn’t a particularly glamorous lifestyle, but he had money for groceries, gas for his jeep, and rent for his small, beachy apartment. saving people’s lives should’ve earned him a little more than $15 an hour, but money was money. 

chris’ tank top blew in the wind as he hit the gas pedal. the fabric was becoming more wrinkled by the second, but he didn’t care. he rarely work more than a pair of swim trunks at work anyway, allowing him to earn a nice tan that definitely boosted his ego.  

everything was fine. better than fine, actually. he was mellowed out, now on island time. life was peaceful, even right now as he drove to work. that changed, however, when he saw you run out in the road, forcing him to slam on the brakes. 

“kid, what the hell are you doing?” chris cursed. 

“sorry!” you yelped, turning to face him. “there was just this really pretty butterfly and-”

“let me get this straight,” he said, leaning around the side of the jeep. “you ran out in the road for a butterfly?”

you nodded meekly, the way this unfamiliar boy said it making you realize how reckless your choice had been. you were taken aback though by the way he looked at you. there was a smirk on his tanned, freckled face, clearly an indicator of how comical he found the situation. it was stupid, really. you knew that, but that didn’t stop you from wanting to wipe that smirk off of his maybe, slightly, possibly gorgeous face. 

“you could’ve gone around me,” you stated with a shrug, trying to make the butterflies in your stomach not show on your face. “that was an option, y’know.”

chris rolled his eyes. you couldn’t be serious. you had to be joking. thankfully, you were a good actor because he seemed to believe that you weren’t. he simply rolled his eyes, climbing back into the jeep and smirking at you once more as he restarted the engine. you were pretty, there was no denying it, but chris wouldn’t let you know that.

“try not to get hit again.” he yelled at you as he sped by. 

and that was how your first, and definitely not last, interaction with the surfer had played out.

a note from the author: surfer!chris has my whole heart and soul. hope this helps ❤️ enjoy!!

❁ tags: @mattsdemi @purpledragon222 @slxtarchive @natashad0627 @quinnysnursery @tyummyz @colorthecosmos444 @lockettesstage @mattyblover07 @marrykisskilled @beautyloves @nicksbestie @mrsarnold @st7rnioioss @sturn777 @sophand4n4 @mattsdolll @lottieluhvs @reidshearts @sturns-mermaid @lovergirl4gracieabrams @emely9274 @blahbel668 @khlolovessturn @ncm9696 @raesalvatore @sturniololuv08 @sturniolosymphony @eternaldesi @irene-martinez777 @mamamadssss @sofieeeeex @courta13 @blushsturns

[mon-chef]

Scarves and Scrunchies.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Sydney liked to think she kept her emotions secured tightly behind a steel trap, only letting them free when she had fully processed them. That wasn’t the case. Carmy, observant as he was, especially of Sydney, realized she had a very revealing tell. Her hair.

Sometimes she’d fly into work with her braids swishing quickly around her shoulders and no scarf yet to tamp them down. She’d be kind as she always was, clear-headed and even voiced, but he knew that she’d been zooming frantically around her corner of Chicago all morning. Her usual hairstyle; a ponytail pulled tight with a colorful scrunchie and, an equally colorful and matching, head scarf meant she’d picked out her clothes the night before, she’d gotten “enough” sleep, and she was ready to be a rockstar in their kitchen.

To be honest Carmy liked all of the ways she styled her hair but his favorite was when she piled her braids into a bun at the top of her head with two braids hanging in front of her eyes. He didn’t know what she was silently revealing when she wore this because he was too busy stealing glances at her exposed neck and trying not to get caught staring into her brown eyes. He was rarely successful.

That morning she’d strode into his apartment muttering a quick hello before making her way straight into his kitchen to place the grocery bags down with a heavy sigh. Her hair was in a low, and slightly messy bun. He figured she’d been fidgeting with it anxiously on the train and in one final burst of annoyance she hastily twirled it into a loose ball at the base of her neck so she wouldn’t be tempted to grab at it anymore.

The scrunchie she’d chosen was black, the same color as the long sleeve, she had on under her oversized ‘Earth Wind and Fire’ t-shirt. He noted that she was wearing leggings today instead of her usual baggy pants. He tried his best not to note how her bending down slightly to put the grocery bags on the counter caused her t-shirt to ride up and that he could see the outline of her backside. “Rough morning?”

Sydney crossed her arms indignantly over her chest and fixed him with a hard glare. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“What? Nothing. You just look—“

“Like shit? Got it. Cool. Thanks.” He took a step away from her, surprised. “How are we already fighting, you just walked in.”

“No, hello. No, how are you—“

“You didn’t give me a chance!”

“Just straight to you look terrible.” Confused he ran a hand through his blonde curls. After which he silently cursed himself for messing up the work he’d done that morning in preparation for her arrival “I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t need to. I read between the lines.” Carmen could feel heat rising up his neck.“Syd I would never say-I- I-I like- I think you’re-” Sydney’s frown faltered, she was trying not laugh. “You’re an asshole.”

“You’re so easy Carm, I had to.”

“No, you’re just really convincing. If you ever get sick of working at the Bear, you should definitely go into acting.”

She scoffed. “Oh shut the fuck up.”

“No, really.”

She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Even if that were true, you don’t have to worry about that. I’ll never get sick of the Bear…again.”

“Promise?” His sincerity froze them both in place. He wracked his brain trying to find more words to abate his embarrassment. “I just meant— .”

“I already tried that, remember?” The confusion melted off of her face and that familiar teasing glint came back into her eye. “And look where that got me.” Her loose bun deflated and instead of putting it back up she let her braids free and rolled the scrunchie onto her wrist.

Carmy didn’t know what he was more surprised at. The way she’d immediately thwarted the intimate moment he’d accidentally put them in or the way his breath hitched when her braids fell down to frame her face.

“Lucky us .” he sighed. Sydney grabbed a jar from the table and and handed it to him to put in his refrigerator, he did thankfully to get at least a few paces from the charged atmosphere.

“ You never look like shit by the way. ” He clarified leaning his back against the fridge. He liked having a sort of short hand with his CDC, so there was no way that he was going to give it away and tell her the real reason he’d made his comment but he did want to clarify. “You just seem stressed.”

“I am, a little.” She bit her lip, contemplating. He could see the exact moment she decided against sharing her thoughts with him. Instead she pivoted to a safer topic. “I’m more nervous about this dish though.”

“Nothing to be nervous about, if we fuck it up we can just start again.” She nodded in agreement but still had her teeth pressed into her bottom lip as she surveyed the groceries she’d just lugged up the stairs.

“I think this is everything.”

“Looks like it.”

Carmen placed a quick hand on her shoulder before turning to the vegetables. “Don’t be anxious, it’ll be fine.”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “Yeah. We got this.”

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

They did not ‘have this’. After burning, over salting, and undercooking the two had smartly decided to save their subsequent efforts for another day. Carmy had suggested they chill on his couch while they waited for take-out.

“Oh shit, my scarf. You found it!”

“Oh yeah.” Carmy said sort of glumly watching her yank it from the spot he’d thoughtfully placed it.

“I’ve been looking for this, I thought it flew off when I went to the pier.”

“No, it’s been here.”

“It’s my favorite.” Sydney flashed him one of her big toothy grins, his favorite.

“I know.” You wear it the most, and usually on bun days.

She gave him a look “What do you like keep track of all of my scarves?”

Yeah, actually. Carmy couldn’t think of a quip to whip back fast enough, so he stayed silent. Syd was stifling a laugh when he summoned the courage to look at her. Fuck, had he said that out loud? No. Clearly he wasn’t the only person who could read their business partner’s secret tells. Suddenly he felt transparent, and crimson-discomfort creeped slowly up his body. “Mind if I leave it here? Never know when a hair scarf related emergency might come up. I’d feel safer with you looking after it, since you clearly care so much.”

He rolled his eyes at her attempt to razz him. He should be embarrassed, he was, but not enough to insist she take it back. It was weird how much he wanted it, a piece of her in his apartment, but Sydney didn’t seem to mind, so neither did he.

[a-romantics-guide-to-life]

ᯓ ᯓ kryptonite kisses ᯓ ᯓ ⋆˙ ✮

clark can't seem to take his lips off of yours for even one second aka your lips are kryptonite, weakening him (but if that what it takes for you to keep you close to him, cest la vie)

tags: fluffyyyy, kisses, you work together, established relationship

FIRST CLARK FICLET!! def not the last bc i am so weak for this man already but i hope you enjoy!

You rub your forehead, the words on the page in your hands blurring together. How is it possible for one writer to make so many mistakes? The red pen tucked on your ear was running on its last legs of ink. You were convinced that the person who wrote this sham of an article deserved to be sent back to the kindergarten. And they also definitely needed glasses because who in their right mind would ever write a sentence as atrocious as “Superman’s strengths lied in his sooper abilities of strong because his face was a zero out of ten.”

“When I catch the person who wrote this, they’ll never ever write again. I won’t let them.” You mutter, taking your red pen and scribbling furiously, nearly ripping the paper out of anger.

A resounding laugh echoed in your office all of a sudden, you looked up to meet the familiar voice's face. Beautiful blue eyes stared back at you, glasses framing his strong nose and handsome face. You smile, setting your pen down as the man walks to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“What are you whispering furiously?” He smirked.

“Only this stupid article titled ‘Superman, only is he really that super?’” You sigh, lifting the paper for the tall man behind you. He lets out another chuckle, taking the papers as he starts to read the obscene article.

His deep voice starts to read the words under his breath, a few amused snorts escaping his thinned lips.

“Go back to elementary school? Such kind words darling.”

You laugh standing up and taking the papers from his hands, throwing them back to your desk. You walk up to him, your chest meeting his as you look up to gaze at the tall man.

“What would you have me say Clark? ‘You can’t write for shit, who spells super as sooper’?” He laughs, hands coming up to your arms, rubbing up and down. Your shoulders loosen under his powerful touch. 

“That’s certainly one way to communicate how whoever wrote that needs an immediate ride to the hospital because I think that they may have a severe concussion,” he hums, “Do ya think they’ll let me fly them to the hospital?”

You laugh, resting your head in the space between his shoulder and neck. You wrap your arms around his broad chest, “I don’t think that’s the best idea, Superman.” You whisper the last part.

Clark looks down at you, smiling at the very ‘secretive’ smile you give him. You made him feel as if he was the only one in the world, the way your bright eyes lit up every time you smiled. On a planet of 7 billion and a universe with who knows how many more species and people, you were the only one to make his chest swell with giddiness and elation.

He presses a kiss to your forehead, moving away from you so he could help you pack your things. You smile as you begin to plan your night in your head. Superhero movies, beer for Clark while you sipped on a nice red Clark bought you, and of course tipsy kisses which would probably lead to much more.

You mindlessly organize the articles you needed to edit on your desk, taking home a few that you could finish later. You smile, thankful it’s time to go home and spend the rest of your night with Clark.

“What are you smiling about over there? Surely the first page of the article I wrote about Superman isn’t that interesting.”

Your eyes snap to the page underneath your fingertips only to see a photo of the Man of Steel with the words “by Clark Kent” underneath the photo. 

You laugh, “sorry Clark, just excited to spend some time with you is all.” You smile, quickly packing up the rest of your things, your heels clacking on the tile floors of your office to catch up with your boyfriend. 

He smiles, taking your briefcase, which Clark noted was worn out and much cuter than the one he used, from your hands. He moves everything he’s holding to his left hand, cradling your hand in his. You smile, holding your coat in your other arm as you two walk to the elevator.

You press the button, letting your hand fall from Clark’s. He immediately pouts, much like a puppy or even Krypto, his shoulders sagging. You laugh at his antics, leaning to kiss him on the cheek. 

Clark’s heart immediately stop, the world seemingly halting as he looks at you, a gentle smile on your lips. He tilts his head to you, pressing his lips to meet yours in a soothing kiss. 

You lean in, your nose catching on his glasses. Your lips danced together, your hand going up to cradle his cheek. Your hand rubbed against his strong jaw as his lips continued to ravage yours. 

He released your lips for a second, his hand shooting up to throw his glasses into his pocket. He throws your bags and his own coat to the ground to wrap his strong arms around your waist, hoisting you up against him. Your hands immediately shoot up to his face, bringing him closer to you. 

Your breaths between kisses grew heavier and heavier, your lips tingling with passion and need as you greedily took Clark’s lips. His hands started to roam across the small of your back, your waist, your ass. His lips greedily latch onto yours, stealing ever sigh and groan escaping your messy pink lips. 

Suddenly the elevator dinged, your head shooting to the open metal door, praying that no one was inside. 

Clark laughs, noting your fear. He sets you down, kissing your nose and cheek before swiftly putting his glasses back on, patting his coat to rid it of any dirt, and grabbing your bags from the floor. You shyly do the same to your own coat, slipping your arms through the velvety sleeves as you walk to the elevator. 

You and Clark both reach to press the garage button at the same time. Your eyes lock on to each other, goofy smiles and chuckles drowning out the music playing of the crackly speakers. 

“Let me take you out on a date darling.” Clark takes your hand, kissing the ring you wore on your middle finger. 

You nod, your hand shaking away from his own. You cradle his face as the elevator continues it’s descent into the abyss of the lower floors.

You lean in once more, kissing his lips. You quickly move away from him though as the elevator doors open once more, sprinting away to your car before Clark could trap your lips once again in heaven. 

As you move hastily to your car, you hear Clark mumble “damn you and your kryptonite kisses.”

You laugh, opening the doors for Clark as he scrambled to get you inside presumably to catch your lips once again in a kiss.

[crescenthistory]

OMG CONGRATS ON 2K!!!! I hope I get to see 20k because you absolutely deserve it! May I request a Roommate au with Barty crouch please!!

THANK YOUUUUU BUBS you're so sweet!!! the way i saw the vision for this INSTANTLY omg thank you for participating mwah<33

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

i will ARGUE for prompt 12 "roommate au" with barty crouch jr.

carina's 2k celebration

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

cw: pre-relationship, reference to crouch senior, cursing, physical affection & wc: 1.1k

You always knew when Barty came home.

Whether it was because he didn't realise how loud he was being or because he frankly didn't care, you weren't entirely certain yet. All you knew was that this boy you met through mutual friends when you were in the middle of a housing crisis entered into his flat as if he was escaping a war zone. Door slammed both as he opened and closed it, boots flying into walls as he kicked them off, jacket accidentally knocking the shoe horn over every day, followed by a loud curse. It did not matter if he was on top of the moon, down in the valley or completely neutral – Barty would always be loud.

It brought you a lot of grief when you first moved in together, though, to be fair, Dorcas had warned you. You still remember her exact phrasing: “I wouldn’t have subjected you to him unless I knew you needed it and could handle it.”

If you waved her off for being dramatic, then that was simply on you.

Though, you learned quickly that Barty wasn’t a terrible roommate. Apart from the major peak, which was that he was renting you one of his several vacant bedrooms in a surprisingly sizable flat in the middle of London for next to nothing, he was a rather supportive and democratic roommate. Anything he bought for the kitchen or bathroom was “free for all” as he called it, he loved handling all the stressful phone calls for maintenance or billing because he got to argue with someone for an hour and on his insisted weekly movie-nights, he let you choose almost every single time. Thus; a relatively good roommate. Not necessarily a sweet one, but you would never demand that from a stranger anyway. 

And you kept insisting that you and Barty were still strangers.

A voice in your head pointed out how contradictory that was, because when Barty entered the flat today in his usual loud manner, you could pick up that something was wrong.

You had been lounging on the settee for the past hour with a book and some neglected homework, not at all waiting for him to come home. At the sound of his entry, you stiffened in your seat, sitting up and closing your book over your fingers as concern began etching itself into your expression with a knife.

“Barty?” you called uncertainly, putting one foot down onto the floor.

He rounded the corner with his bag flung over his slumped shoulders and let out a – also loud – huff. The handsome features of his face were dragged out as the skin seemed to melt off of his face in exhaustion, yet all of his muscles seemed to be tense, holding on.

Immediately upon entering the room, Barty’s eyes met yours and seemed to melt a little. “Dragă, you won’t believe the bloody day I’ve had.”

You opened your mouth to reply, but Barty was already moving across the room, dropping his bag haphazardly on a chair and yanking off his sweater in one not-at-all-distracting move before throwing it onto the back of the sofa opposite you. 

As he walked, he seemed to relay his unbelievable day to you, worries all flowing from him with minimal hindrance. Your eyes remained thoughtfully furrowed and your attention pinned on him for reasons you chose not to investigate.

“My boss has got corporate’s boot on his neck once again and the fucker is taking it out on me, trying to criticise my paperwork when I move through twice the amount of cases as any of his other top workers.” He’s opening the fridge to grab a bottle of water, chugging it all in one go before he continued – that’s another thing you’ve noticed about Barty, he has remarkable control of his body and is able to open his throat to down pretty much any drink within seconds. 

“And then Regulus and fucking Potter – you know him, right, annoying smiley bloke? Anyway, Regulus and fucking Potter are quite literally fucking and it’s the most despicable thing I’ve seen, almost making me lose my lunch anytime we’re in the same room together.” He’s walking towards you know, making a beeline towards the other side of your settee.

“Not to mention my father won’t fucking leave me alone, he has been calling me nonstop, I’m talking – and I swear to gods, I am not exaggerating at all Dragă – over twelve times today already. And I know it’s nothing serious, which makes it all the more infuriating–”

As Barty carries on, he plops down on the seat beside you, gesturing with his hands and distracted in his animated rant. You’ve put your book aside on the coffee table and move to angle yourself towards him to fully focus on what he has to say, when he beats you to it. Barty turns around in his seat to lay down across the settee to place his head in your lap. His left leg is slung over the back of the sofa while the other is sprawled out onto the floor, arms still gesturing wildly as he gets comfortable on the plush of your thighs.

“– he’s just trying to get a rise out of me, I know it so bloody well, and he’s still fucking successful–”

Your roommate of a few months who you still tell yourself is more or less a stranger despite knowing him well enough to understand every aspect of his current rambling has laid his head in your lap as you talk.

It felt oddly right.

Partly without thinking and partly because where else do you put your fucking hands, you let your right hair come down to comb through his hair that is slightly humid from the January mist outside. His contrasting strands of black and acid green get all mixed up at the movement, but more importantly, his face took on a calmer look.

He glanced up at you through his thick eyelashes, words dying on his lips as if he was just now seeing you and catching up with his own movements.

You can’t help the small smile that takes over your features. “Sounds like a rough day.” 

He nodded his head in your grasp, his heterochromic eyes slightly glazed over as they stared up into yours. “Yeah,” he said, voice hoarse. “Rough day. Better now though.”

You tilted your head sideways. “Yeah?”

A slow smile began to emerge. “Yeah.”

[emsdevs]

A Luke Hughes ask of his girlfriend going into labour and him telling his family he is a dad to a son

a/n: I'm so sorry for the wait nonnie! I hope you still like it! Also everyone please note: I have never been pregnant and therefore do not know the exact process of having a baby. If there are inaccuracies, please ignore them. Thanks and enjoy dad!Luke :)

Labor of Love

You swore you both would be prepared for this, and you definitely were. Luke, on the other, didn’t seem to be taking it as well. When you felt your water break, you called him into the room, telling him the situation.

“Oh god. Oh no. We have so much to do. Oh my god. Okay, you can get changed if you wanna, and I’ll get everything in the car,” he said, frantically moving around the room.

“Luke, baby, I can’t change my pants by myself,” you answered, significantly calmer.

“Right! Right, I knew that,” he plays it off, coming over to help you undress and redress. He moves you to the car where you get situated while he runs around grabbing everything you might need while at the hospital. 

After you arrived and got checked in, Luke called his family, letting them know you had gone into labor and were at the hospital. Next, he called yours. It was very early in the off-season and you went into labor a little bit early, so they would have to fly in from Michigan, unable to be there until two days later at the earliest. After many excited reactions, he was finally done with his round of phone calls, and he walked back into your room in just enough time for you to start laboring. Fourteen hours of blaming and yelling at Luke later, you had delivered your baby and were waiting to find out the gender. You both had agreed since it was your first child, you wanted to wait to find out the gender until the baby was born. Soon, your baby was in your arms and the midwife was telling you that you’d delivered a beautiful baby boy. The tears started flowing the moment he was placed in your arms, and out of the corner of your eye, you could see Luke in the same state beside you. 

“You did so well, baby. Look what you brought us,” he was getting choked up staring at the perfect mix of you and him.

“He’s so perfect,” you move your finger so your son can grab it, “a baby boy.” Soon, the nurses were stealing him away to run all the tests needed, and you instructed Luke to never let your baby boy out of his sight. Eventually, your boys returned, and you all got some much-needed family time. Soon though, you and your son were in desperate need of sleep, so Luke took that time to go inform his family. When he walked through the doors to the waiting room, everyone stood up waiting for whatever news he had for them. 

“She’s doing good, and the baby was born at 3:17. He’s healthy and so perfect,” he sniffled at the end of his sentence, feeling the tears beginning to well up again.

“He?” Luke heard your mom ask.

“Yeah we had a baby boy,” he couldn’t hold it in anymore. He was crying because of the pure joy he felt, his mother wrapping him in her arms while she shed her own tears. Distantly, he could hear Jack and his father having their own celebration before Jim went to call Quinn who couldn’t be there because of playoffs. Gently, Ellen pulled back before asking what name you two had decided on. You both had kept your picks for the names a secret, wanting to keep it to yourselves for as long as possible.

“Samuel Bennett,” he spoke softly.

“Samuel Bennett Hughes,” Ellen breathed, “He sounds perfect, Luke.”

“He is, Mom,” before Luke could start crying again, Jack brought him into a hug, telling him he knew he’d be a good father. His father was the last to hug him, being sure Luke knew how proud he and Ellen were. He let them be the ones to inform Quinn and your family, wanting to get back to his family.

When he got to the room, he took a moment to really take in you and Samuel. You were the love of his life, and he couldn’t wait to see where this road takes you both. He couldn’t wait to spend more time with Samuel and get to know the little boy that you two, mainly you, brought into this world. He was so incredibly thankful to be able to have this moment. You two have been through a lot since getting together in high school. You even stuck with him after he got drafted, choosing to transfer to a school in New Jersey to be closer to him. He’s always had your unwavering support, and he hopes you know he’ll always have your back as well. Right now though, he’s sure both of you will be the co-founders of Samuel’s fan club. No matter what happened or where life leads the two of you, he knows he has you and Samuel, and that’s enough for him.

taglist: @heartsforjh @alex-wotton @devilinpradaheels @juxmi @macklin-celebrini-71 @puckmedude

join the taglist

[deathofacupid]

thinking about heian!sukuna on the day of his execution. "ryomen sukuna, king of curses, for his unforgivable crimes – sentenced to death." ⤷ trigger-warning: insinuated suicide, execution, grapic-ish/gory-ish details .ᐟ

the words rippled through the city, a wave of jubilation crashing against the stone walls of his prison. his reign of terror was over. japan would breathe again.

heian!sukuna had accepted his fate. it was inevitable. in his cell, enchanted shackles bit into his wrists, cold metal against warm skin. he wasn’t afraid. death was a fleeting inconvenience, a doorway he’d walked through countless times. death should fear him.

boredom gnawed at him, a dull ache in his ancient soul. he tapped his clawed fingers against the iron bars, the sound echoing in the cramped space, a counterpoint to the distant cheers.

the stench of rust, stale blood, and something faintly sweet and decaying clung to the air. it didn’t faze heian!sukuna. a low chuckle rumbled in his chest. pathetic.

then, a flicker of movement. a shadow slipped past the guard. you. clad in a black coat, you were a stark contrast to the grime and decay. as you stepped into the dim light, the coat fell soundlessly to the floor, revealing a soft, pink satin kimono. his favorite color on you.

“oh, ‘kuna,” you whimpered, a hand flying to your mouth.

“butterfly,” heian!sukuna greeted, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. “well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

“don’t laugh,” you choked out, tears streaming down your face. “it’s not funny. they’re going to kill you. my father…”

the irony had always been a bitter amusement to heian!sukuna. you, the daughter of his sworn enemy, the golden ruler, had fallen for the king of curses. you, who should have embodied purity and light.

and in a way, you did. he saw it in the gentle curve of your smile, the way you treated the downtrodden, the way you looked at him – not with fear, but with a tenderness that disarmed him. you saw a man beneath the monster.

heian!sukuna's smirk faded. your tears were his undoing. even the king of curses couldn’t bear to see you cry. he rose, the chains rattling, and moved to the bars. he longed to reach through, to wipe those tears away, to feel the softness of your skin beneath his rough touch.

“don’t cry,” he murmured, his voice softer than he intended.

“i don’t want to leave you,” you sobbed, pressing your face against the cold metal where his hand rested. “you promised… you promised you’d never go where i couldn’t follow.”

heian!sukuna who's chest tightened. you always knew how to make him feel… human. he leaned his forehead against the bars, as close as he could get. “i know,” he whispered. “i knew this day would come.”

“he’s going to make me watch, ‘kuna. how… how can i watch you die?”

a darkness flickered in his eyes, his jaw clenching. losing his life was nothing. but the thought of you witnessing it…

heian!sukuna who took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm. “you must be strong,” he said, his voice low and firm. “even when everything is falling apart… you can’t break. do you understand?”

“i don’t think i can live without you,” you whispered, a plea in your voice.

heian!sukuna who closed his eyes for a moment, a rare vulnerability showing on his face. “live for me, butterfly. please,” he murmured, finally.

please, you think. not a word you hear often from him. but you knew your fate. you would rather die, than live in a world without him. "okay," you say, instead.

“good,” he whispered back, a faint smile touching his lips. “that’s my girl.”

“and we’ll meet again?” you asked, your lips brushing against the cold metal where his would be.

a melancholy smile touched heian!sukuna's lips. “of course. i will find you. every lifetime, every world.” he leaned into the phantom touch of your lips. “you are mine, butterfly. forever.”

the guards dragged you away, your cries echoing in the dungeon. he watched you go, a bitter taste in his mouth.

at the executioner’s block, the sunlight glinted on the blade. your father stood on the platform, his face a mask of cold authority. heian!sukuna stood there, waiting.

then, a murmur from a guard. “my lord… it is your daughter.”

heian!sukuna who's eyes widened. his butterfly? he strained against the chains, his heart pounding in his chest.

your father sighed, then, without a glance at sukuna, said, “kill him.”

the blade fell. the crowd roared.

but heian!sukuna was already gone, his spirit untethered, searching. he would find you. he would spill oceans of blood if he had to.

you were heian!sukuna's butterfly. and he would never let you go.

all banner credits to @dollywons .ᐟ

[dabratzchronicles]

Funny How Time Flies (When You're Having Fun)

Aaron Pierre as Terry Richmond

You as Yourself

Summary: After your convo with Terry, you went to the library to get back into your lost-out hobby.

A/N: This isn't very long but it is something! cute and adorebleness is something I've been NEEDINGGGGGGGGG, so I made it. Enjoy my babies and who knows? may get a double upload.(also i recommend this book! definitely a good fuckin read.)

Warnings: Nothing, playful banter and cuteness.

Chapter Two:

You hopped off the bus, stepping on soggy leaves and damp pavement. Today was the day you went to the library! You haven’t been here since you were little and they renovated the entire building, bringing a classy yet homey style you admired.

You walked inside and fell in love with the interior. The library side was slim to dim, and the children’s learning center was bright! It was filled with computers, books, and a few splashes of color, but not too much color to the point that it didn't make sense. 

Approaching the desk, you asked for a library card. The process was fast and easy, choosing the library mural design for your card, the black family happily looking into the book they were reading, you prayed silently that you would have a family like that. 

You thanked the kind lady and grabbed your newly-issued library card, trying to contain your excitement but failed miserably to do so. 

The library was filled with so many books, books and books and books! And you didn’t know where the fuck to start at, it was soooo many of em, Did you want to go to a thriller? Did you want a good mystery book? Did you want to read a beautiful romcom? Many Possibilities, Many Outcomes, again.

You wandered around the library until you found a lonesome computer behind one of the adult fiction aisles. You messed with the thing until you were able to search, but for what? You didn’t know a book off the dome you wanted to read, let alone search for! 

A thought infiltrated your mind, prepping your fingers to type ‘White Smoke’ into the machine, it was in stock! only one but you had to go get it before someone got it. 

You exited from the search, returning the screen to how you found it before making a bead line to the Teen Fiction aisle. 

Rounding the corner, you made it to the section and slowly examined everything. With as many books as it had and the mind that you have? You wouldn’t leave with the book you were supposed to leave with. 

Your eyes hunted for the damn book, nibbling at your bottom lip as all the book titles became a blur, it's like a white man giving his daughter his card, it never goes well. After almost what felt like an eternity, you found it! There was only one left in stock, your hand flying out to grab it like it was Black Friday.

You looked a little to the right to see a new book from the same author, your interest was piqued as you grabbed the foreign book. It was titled, ‘The Weight Of Blood’, The name alone was a good eye-grabber, you gave props where props were due. With the books clutched in your arms, you scouted around for a resting area, somewhere cozy and dim.

You finally found a corner to read in, your feet going autopilot as you looked down at the book to read the blurb on the back, sensing Carrie vibes, just fuming off of the book, the more you read the more you it intrigued you– Oof!

Books cracked open on the floor, the sweet-smelling brolic figure you just bumped into let out a tiny laugh as you were down on the ground trying to achieve the fallen collection of books that scattered across the floor, apologizes flew out like playing cards trying to get the precious books off the all walked over the floor.

Separating the books you didn’t have in one arm and the ones you did in the other, you looked up to see who you bumped into and it was… Terry? The man almost looked unrecognizable in casual clothing, well you wouldn’t say causal, more like, different-from-first-time-seeing-him causal, his navy blue polo sweater fitted loosely on him, his black jeans sitting on his waistline, it was refreshing to not see someone sag their pants, and to top the fit, gold jewelry with his Los Angeles dodgers low dunks. “Terry!” a high-pitched calling of his name filled the silence for a little bit, stares and shushing filled it quickly after.

He snickered, looking around at the annoyed daggers of stares at the two of you. “Are you oookay?!” he whispered softly, lowering his head and then his body. 

You gave him a little smile with all thirty two gleaming, “I’m Fine!” 

“Good, now hurry off this floor before they kick us out for lewdful activities.” he said with his hand slowly extending towards you, his ear to ear smile returning when he saw your face at his snarky comment.

“You are so naughty Mr. Richmond!” you giggled like a school girl, accepting his hand up. 

His hands were soft, almost as soft as fabric softener makes clothes, his vibe was gentle and serenely warm, your head shook on its own in efforts to shake away feelings, but it didn't help.

You stood straight till your knees bent almost out of place. You fixed your glasses and dusted off places covered with dirt, geez and you’d think they would clean these floors now and again. 

Terry studied you, to your hair that could only be described as a lion mane, but you kept it tame with your hood. To your outfit, which you kept casual. Your dark blue jeans hugging your lower body perfectly, your freshly washed Tokyo Ghoul hoodie kept you warm and comfortable, but when it got too hot you wished you put on a fuckin shirt underneath. 

His hand flew to the chairs, signaling you to lead the way as if he didn’t know where he could have moved his long legs. You corrected your face from the reaction you wanted to give in your head. “After you.” 

“Such a gentleman,” you teased, holding her books as you waltzed to the seating area. You felt funny walking in front of him. Not because he could possibly be staring at your ass, but because you felt comfortable in his presence, like he just gave off natural protector energy, a lion protecting his lioness, you felt pretty and safe. 

You chose the olive green armchair near the window, sitting in knee first, leaning towards the window. 

You cracked open the book and man, it brought back your love for reading, the character's introduction sucking you further into the book. A light-skinned finger slowly creeping into your view spooked you into the armchair. “Jesus, Terrance.” 

“I’ve been pspspsps-ing you like a stray cat!” Terry whispered his shout, looking at the book that so desperately caught your attention. “That’s not white smoke…” 

“I know,” You said, looking at the book cover with satisfaction. “This is another book by the same author. I don't know, just caught my eye.” 

He looked at with a pleased face, his bottom lip turned outwards as his eyes traveled across your side, your face sculpted by confusion and scareness. “Is there something on me?” 

“No.” He smiled, setting his book on the side between you two, scooting his chair next to yours, your hands flew out to replace what would have been your screams. 

He sat down in the now moved seat and crossed his legs, his hands reaching for your book with his elbow resting on the arm of the chair. 

Something unspoken was spoken between you two, his eyes rolled jokingly as he leaned towards you. “This is fine as long as we put it back where it belongs.” 

“How the fuck does your whispers sound like your speaking regularly?!” 

“Simple, My tongue is silver.” 

Oh, how you wish it was on you. 

You shook your head blinking back other unwanted thoughts. Your hand flew to the book, flipping the skinny pages to where you left off at, catching him up to where you got stopped at, which wasn’t far. 

“So she was passing as a white girl until that one day at her track meeting?” 

“Yes,” You answered, starting you up on one of your blabs.

It's funny how time flies when you’re having fun, as the great Janet Jackson said. You sat in the same spot for some hours—how many? You don't know. 

It’s been nice reading with someone, thoughts after each chapter, the passion of reading each sentence like it were lines to a script, the sudden moments to go with every other sentence, this was the best impromptu book club you could’ve ever joined. 

“5 Minutes till closing.” An Employee said, waving her hand to politely exit the area.

You looked outside to see the sunset. Closing the book to set it on top of the other book. Damn, you forgot you even checked that book out. 

“So,” His voice took you out of your thoughts. “Mind if I walk you to your car?” 

“Er…” 

Car. A fuckin Car. You don’t have one! You got two black Cadillacs that gets you places and singles to give to the money eater on those buses. You internally croaked over as you silently spoke the words: 

“I don’t have a car.”

“What?” His head tilted toward you to hear you better but you jerked yours back. 

“I don’t have a car! Teehee. I caught the bus.” You admitted to him, his face not changing at all. “Oh.” He said, “That’s all?”

“Yes that’s all!” you felt offended, it took a lot to admit you didn’t own a vehicle and all you get is a ‘That’s all’!?! The nerve! “It ain't easy to admit that you asshole.” You playfully hit his shoulder, giggling at how he faked how bad it stung. 

“I can take you, It’s not that big of a deal.” I want to fuck you so it is.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to have you doing anything extra-”

He shushed with his finger on your lips, dragging his index finger down and flicked your bottom lip. “Imma stop you right there. You ain’t prolonging shit, nor are you stopping me from doing something that I want to do. Plus I’m not letting another man scoop you up like that! That’s my job.” 

“Boy if you don’t move yo finger off my mouth,” You attempted to bite his finger away but he was quick to withdraw it. “I will take you up on your offer, but if you do that Disney Channel shit on me again I will lick you.” 

“You can lick me anytime you please,” he teased, his smile grew fatter seeing your eyes react to his statement. “Cmon lil lady,” He stuck out his free elbow while the other one had your books and his, “Times ticking and it's getting cold out.” 

Your eyes rolled involuntarily as you linked arms with Terry, walking together to the exit.

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[cokoweee]

COKO- DLKJFKADHKFDAKFHADFDSFDSKJFDKLFDHAK

COKO.

Youuuuu magnificent artist you-

This update- .... THIS FRIGGIN' UPDATE-

LET'S BEGIN. First off- THIS IS GORGEOUS. It amazes me how uniform and clean your art can be- while also being whimsical and naturally flowy. The shades of purples just add the perfect touch of depth and life- And then the contrast of the gray with the characters and the white of the snow and smoke?- AMAZING.

Next.

Despite Donnie's brain becoming his worst enemy right now, he's still pushing past it to make sure Kendra's okay and not accidentally harming herself. Her being both drunk and sickly, he's making sure to keep an eye on her like a good boyfriend would.

With this exchange we also hear that Kendra's fever had come back hours ago during the party- This poor girl can't get a health break if her life depended on it. :(

I love that even though Donnie has indeed grown in terms of emoting and feeling again, he still has those classic deadpanned lines. When I read his first line in this panel, it was deadpan. (I think his expression also hints at this haha).

Kendra continues on for a bit about how the alcohol helps her to forget. But with all the years that she has been drinking, it NEVER WORKS. "You always remember though.." But then, after saying such a fact, she immediately contradicts herself stating emphatically "..I know that for sure I for one WON'T." Perhaps it's Big Mama's drinks flowing through her system that makes her think she definitely won't remember what happened. "I'll forget yesterday.. today.."

And then Donnie asks the question every fan is DYING to know the answer to:

"Is that why you did it?"

When Kendra kissed Donnie- was she somewhat in control of her actions? Was there feeling and connection smothered deep underneath the waves of alcohol? Was the drink poisoned? Did it mess with Kendra specifically to make her kiss him?

DOES SHE TRULY LOVE HIM?

Donnie is physically shaking with anticipation, anger, mourning, all the feelings he desperately doesn't want to feel. he begins to interrogate Kendra on why she did it. GET SOME ANSWERS. Prove him he's wrong.

"Big Mama made you do it, right? That's why you want to forget it..."

And then Kendra drunkenly but simply replies, "Do you want me to remember it?"

And what's Donnie's response? Will he yell at her to "JUST FORGET IT-" and storm off? Will he go silent and try to weasel his way out of all these emotions flying high in the air and in his heart?

No. He does the unexpected. He tells her straight out- "I WANT YOU TO REMEMBER OUR FIRST KISS." He says it with such emphasis, such passion and gusto, that it completely takes Kendra by surprise... And then, just as Donnie admits his true feelings, he freezes and backtracks. "Ah- Wait-" It's terrifying to tell someone such heartfelt emotions you have for them. It's terrifying because you have no idea if you'll be accepted or rejected. "I mean- Scratch what I said!" (I can't give you an opening to hurt me- I can't be vulnerable with you- I can't I can't I can't)

After Donnie speaks, Kendra begins to move her hand closer to his. Not enough to touch- but extremely close. She is slowly but steadily showing him to not be afraid of her. Don't be afraid of feeling. I won't hurt you.

(ALSO HER NAILS?? LIKE BRO?? THEY LOOK SO GOOD WHAT THE SHELL-)

... And then her nose ruins it. XD (Seriously, honey, GO INSIDE IT'S COLDER THAN A SNOWMAN'S CORE OUT THERE.)

Now we see Donnie immediately and instinctively protecting his mate friend- handing her his own shirt to keep her warm in the chilly air. Forget their earlier conversation- she's still sick, and her health is priority over some dumb dumb feelings.

Walking back into the hotel room to hopefully find more medicine for his sick girlfriend, he grips down on his wildly wagging tail, once again trying to mask over the fact that he's never been happier in his life. We also can't see his expression very well throughout these panels- if not at all. I really like this. It's almost as if when you can't see him, he's forcefully disassociating, not allowing anyone, (including the reader) to see what's going through his mind and heart.

And when Donnie leaves, Kendra watches him. <3 And then not long after...

... She joins him inside.

DKLFJADKFHAHFKHDSKFH

COKO THIS UPDATE- THIS UPDATE-

You did what so many tv shows and movies and fics don't. HAVE THE TWO LOVE INTERESTS TALK ABOUT THEIR FEELINGS without any need for intimate touching, kissing, etc. They just stand in the cold and talk it out.

.. AND I LOVED IT. :)

You did an amazing job on this update, dude. Seriously. This was some really good dialogue and writing and art and I loved every second of it. :)

Good luck with the next chapter thingy! You got this!

Remember to drink water and see what the sun looks like!!

~ Melissa

OKAY IVE GOT TWO OF YALL WITH LONG ASKS SO I GOTTA SPACE EM OUT

So with that line “you always remember though” was meant to be read with the you emphasized but my jittery brain was blanking last night. Seeing it now that I’m awake I’m glad I left it like that cause she doesn’t know if she’ll forget or not.

Donnie without anything in his system, no voices to hear, makes him really start to slip up. Do things, say things without fully planning it through. His hearts being plastered on his sleeve rather than staying where it can’t be ripped away.

I left the update pretty bare/practically empty of any thoughts the two are having. If I showed them these panels would be stuffed to hell but yall are filling in the blanks nicely. You and Kiku have your analysis, lil bird pickings of updates and it always get me goofy happy agegrgquahahhe

Also I’m grabbing a bagel, the morning summons

[its-all-stardust]

Safe

So this is kind of based on a request that I received over six months ago at this point (rip me and my writing capabilities) that I mixed with my own idea in an attempt to make it more realistic than what the request originally called for. Because I feel like I changed the core of what the person wanted, I decided not to include it here.

Masterlist

Matt Murdock/GN!Reader, though it's more platonic and really kind of Matt, Karen, and Foggy being buds with Reader. Sorry not sorry.

Word count: 7.1k

Summary: You love your boyfriend even though he kicked you out of your, really his, apartment. He'll let you back in soon enough. But a cold breeze and falling night don't mix with a thin T-shirt, causing you to seek warmth in an office labeled Nelson Murdock Page.

Content warning for domestic abuse/intimate partner violence. Descriptions are few and not overly detailed.

The sun was just starting to set, but you already felt the chill of the impending night air. The streets felt darker than they should, the tall buildings casting deep shadows, a false night before the true one.

It was the one thing you never liked about the city, especially since you were left wandering the streets alone, at a loss for what to do or where to go. You weren’t worried, though. Dean had done this before. Soon, you were sure, he’d call you and let you back into the apartment.

He had locked you out, something he usually did whenever you made a mistake or got into a ridiculous fight. He was within his rights to kick you out and take the key—it was his apartment, after all. He paid the rent, his name was on the lease.

Once Dean slowed down and thought things through, when he saw the situation from your perspective and understood why you thought what you did, he’d call. You would tell him you were sorry, he’d forgive you and tell you he loved you, and then the two of you would fall into bed, and all would be forgotten.

A gust of wind blew through the street, freezing you to the spot for a moment. Fall was settling in, and the nights were getting colder. Your t-shirt, lounge pants, and flip-flops didn’t provide much warmth.

But it was okay. Dean would call soon. Your phone was clutched in your hand, waiting for it to come through.

You told a friend about these fights once, and she looked more than a little perturbed. She tried telling you that if Dead actually loved you, he wouldn’t do that to you. You knew she was wrong. If Dean didn’t love you, he wouldn’t have given you your phone on the way out the door. You needed it so he could call and find you using the tracking app he set up.

New York City could be dangerous—aliens falling from the sky, vigilantes roaming the streets, people who could fly—and he didn’t want to take any chances. Even when you were fighting, Dean always made sure you weren’t hurt. It was also why you couldn’t stop walking until you found somewhere safe or until Dean called you. If your phone stopped moving for too long, Dean would worry that something had happened to you.

The wind blew again, the sun dipping even lower. It was getting colder. 

Reaching up, you rub the slight bump on your forehead. Dean tried tossing you your phone, but you missed—you were never good at playing catch—and the corner smacked you above your left eye. It ached and started a headache that hadn’t let up yet.

You couldn’t wait for Dean to call so you could go home and find where he tucked away the painkillers this time. He never liked keeping things in one spot for too long.

A light in the gathering dark caught your eye. An office window, still lit hours after their normal closing time. On closer inspection, you saw their sign:

Nelson, Murdock, Page - Attorneys at Law.

It made you pause.

You didn’t need a lawyer, but maybe, since they were around anyway, they’d let you sit in their lobby for a bit. Just long enough to warm up and for Dean to call. And if Dean checked where you were, he’d know you were safe. After all, what thief could run to a lawyer after stealing a phone?

Your heart pounded nervously in your chest as you touched the door handle. You hoped they were nice, that they’d let you inside without expecting anything. Surely, they wouldn’t charge you for waiting in their lobby, right?

Finding your courage, you pulled the door open, only to pause as the people inside turned to stare at you. Two men and a woman.

“I’m sorry,” you said immediately, losing your nerve. “This was a bad idea.” You let the door go and turned to leave.

“Wait!” the woman called. Her voice was loud, and you couldn’t help but obey, your shoulders tensing, your body filling with nerves. She stood and met you at the door.

“Are you okay? Do you need help?” Her eyes scanned you up and down, lines forming between her brows the longer she stared.

“I’m fine. I was just…” you trailed off with a shrug. But the woman and the two men behind her waited for you to finish. You smiled and gave an awkward laugh. “I got locked out of my apartment. I’m just waiting for my boyfriend to call to let me know I can go back inside. I was hoping I could hang around for a bit just to warm up. You guys are the only ones still open this time of day.”

You felt like you were rambling but couldn’t help yourself. 

“Of course! Please come in.” The woman stepped back to let you in, flashing a bright smile.

You cautiously entered, hyper-aware of your flip-flops smacking against the bottom of your feet in the silent office.

You glanced between the woman and the men again. They were all gathered in the lobby, the other lights in the office turned off.

“I’m sorry, were you about to leave? I can—” You stepped back, not wanting to keep them. They would likely rather be on their way home than babysitting you.

“Please, we practically live here. Stay!” one of the men said. He had blond hair and a charmingly boyish smile.

Not seeing how to get out of the situation—and not sure if you wanted to—you carefully sat down in the chair the blond man pulled out for you from the few lined against one wall.

“I’m Foggy,” the man said, holding out his hand to you. Smiling politely, you shook it, introducing yourself. The others followed; the woman was Karen, and the other man, with dark hair and circular red glasses, was Matt.

“If you don’t mind my asking,” Matt started slowly, as if afraid to startle you. “If you’re waiting to get back into your apartment, why not just wait in the lobby of your building?”

You froze for less than a second before the tension faded away with practiced ease. 

“I figured I’d get some fresh air,” you lied. “Still not used to the changing weather and was too stubborn to go back when I realized how cold it was.” You laughed, hoping your tale of personal failing would make Matt drop the subject.

The truth was you tried staying in the lobby before, the first time Dean locked you out after you moved in with him. He’d checked the tracker on your phone and came stomping out of the elevator fifteen minutes later, saying you needed to leave the building entirely. He couldn’t think knowing you were still around, saying he could practically hear you breathing. If you wanted him to forgive you, you needed to leave. Otherwise, he would just stay mad, and who knows, maybe you’d have to spend the night sleeping on the floor of the lobby of your apartment building, hoping no one saw you.

Now you knew to leave whenever you’d done something to make Dean mad. You would go to a friend’s place if you could, but ever since you’d moved in with Dean, you’d lost contact with them.

Matt gave a small smile as if he were indulging you. “And now?”

“And now I figured I’d be better off waiting for a phone call. The halls in my place are barely better than outside.” You laughed again. “I’d rather stay here where it’s cozy. As long as that’s okay with you guys.”

“Of course it’s okay,” Karen jumped in to say, shooting a look at Matt, which, the more you studied him, you were unsure if he could even see.

“Do you want some coffee?” Foggy offered, trying to ease the tension between his friends. You rubbed your hands together, the chill from the autumnal air still clinging to them.

“That would be really nice. Thank you.” You almost wanted to say no, but a cup of hot coffee sounded so nice, and it would buy you a little more time in their office.

Foggy left for the kitchen, turning lights on along the way, leaving you, Matt, and Karen in awkward silence.

“I’m sorry, but do you need ice? For your forehead?” Karen blurted out, touching her own forehead above her left eye sympathetically.

Heat rose to your face. “This?” you said, touching the bump, attempting to cover it even though Karen had clearly already seen it. “It’s nothing. Just banged my head off the counter earlier after I dropped something.”

“Are you sure?” Matt asked, drawing your attention to him and the tense grip he had on his cane. “It doesn’t hurt at all?” 

His face was turned toward you, but his eyes didn’t match where yours were. Adding in the cane, you figured he was more than likely blind. At least that was one person you didn’t have to worry about altering your appearance for.

“I barely even notice it,” you lied again. Truthfully, the bump still throbbed, and while ice would be a relief, you weren’t about to let these people, these strangers, know things that could get you and Dean into trouble. Dean always said other people wouldn’t understand the dynamics of your relationship, and you had always trusted him about that.

You could trust these people for a moment of respite and nothing more.

Foggy came back into the lobby with a paper cup in his hand, hopefully saving you from any further interrogation.

They told you about themselves, about their work, and you did the same. Thankfully, no further probing questions were asked. And if they noticed how often you checked your phone for an incoming call or a text, they didn’t say anything.

Not until an hour had passed anyway.

“Still haven’t heard anything?” Matt asked just as you checked the service on your phone for the umpteenth time, almost convinced that was why Dean hadn’t called. It was a little eerie how Matt seemed to know what you were doing, but you brushed it off as simply caused by a lull in conversation.

“Not yet,” you answered, releasing your thoroughly chewed lip. “It’s probably just taking longer than usual. I’ll go, though. I don’t want to keep you guys.” You forced a levity you didn’t feel to your voice. You had hoped Dean would have called by now, but it wasn’t the longest he left you out of the apartment.

You stood, about to run off and leave these very nice people to their night, and missed the shared look between them.

“Have you eaten yet?” Matt asked suddenly, stopping you in your tracks.

“No, but I was just going to grab something on my way back home.” Another lie. You couldn’t go back to the apartment without Dean’s say so. 

“Oh, you have your wallet with you?” Matt asked, his surprise not sounding entirely genuine.

But he was blind. He would have no idea you didn’t have pockets, let alone what may or may not have been in them.

“Yep!” you said, voice pitched a little too high. You moved toward the door.

“Why don’t you come with us?” Karen suggested, “We were just about to grab dinner ourselves.”

“We’ll even be nice and not take you to our favorite bar. Pretty sure you can’t eat anything there without getting some kind of food poisoning,” Foggy chimed in.

It was like they were all telepathically communicating, working together to get you to go with them.

It would have been concerning if you hadn’t felt so at ease with them. Warnings of not letting strangers take you to a secondary location were easily brushed from your mind, not given the chance to linger.

These people weren’t strangers in the usual sense. They were well-known lawyers with their names plastered on a sign right outside their door. Not to mention you practically accosted them, and they were too kind to turn you away.

Plus…it was nice spending time with other people again. You’d lost contact with so many people in the last year you’d forgotten what it was like to spend time with someone other than Dean.

You weren’t ready for it to end. Not yet.

The ache of loneliness and a growl from your stomach had you saying, “Okay.”

The restaurant they picked wasn’t anything fancy, but it wasn’t one you’d ever been to before. You had passed by it on several occasions, but Dean had never been interested whenever you brought it up. He never gave you a reason why, and you never understood his reluctance. 

Now that you finally tried it, you can firmly say you weren’t missing out on much—it was more like any other family dining place—but the food was good. Great for your empty stomach—and the company was even better.

Matt—a sort of gentleman, you came to find out—offered to pay for everyone. You were sure it was more for your benefit than anything, the man somehow knowing you didn’t have any way to pay.

You almost said no, but you were already in too deep. Not to mention, there still hadn’t been any word from Dean.

When the bill was paid and the four of you headed for the door, your demeanor shifted.

It was getting late, and Dean never told you that you could return to the apartment.

He’d never left you out all night before. What if he never called? Did he expect you to sleep on the street, or would you be allowed to go back to his building?

You could call him. You weren’t supposed to during these lock-outs, but you didn’t have much choice, not if you needed to know what was going on.

A light touch to your elbow made you jump.

“Is something wrong?” Matt asked. You must have been so lost in thought you hadn’t noticed him get so close. 

“No.” The lie slipped through automatically, and you prayed you were convincing. “Just thinking that I might finally convince my boyfriend to come here now that I’ve tried it.”

Matt nodded. “Have you heard from him yet?” he asked cautiously. 

You glanced away, glad he couldn’t see your nervous shifting, but then you caught Karen and Foggy watching your exchange from a few feet away. 

“He probably just got caught up bullshitting with the maintenance guy,” you said instead of giving a direct answer.

You pulled up Dean’s contact in your phone. You had to risk calling him, not wanting to look like a fool in front of your almost-friends.

The call rang just once before he answered. Like he had been waiting for you.

You were about to speak, a term of endearment on your lips, when Dean beat you to it.

“Who are you with?” he asked, the words low and full of venom.

You froze for a moment, too familiar with the tone and what it meant. You turned around and stepped away from the others, not wanting them to see your face. You didn’t properly register the newly formed scowl on Matt’s face.

Dean continued. “I saw where you were. A lawyer? Are you lying to him about me?” The anger in him rose with every word.

“No, that’s not it at all!” you quietly cried, trying desperately not to alert anyone. There was nothing you could do when Dean got like this, in this argumentative state that got you pushed out of the apartment in the first place. 

You shouldn’t have called. It just made Dean angrier. You should have waited. You knew better, but you wanted to look normal in front of such friendly people.

“They were just being nice, making sure I stayed warm. That’s it,” you insisted.

“Oh, so, now you think I don’t take care of you,” he snarked back.

The next words spilled out before you could stop them. Years of pent-up frustrations and fear, and, most importantly, anger coming to a head.

“You’re the one who kicked me out!” you hissed before gasping.

You shouldn’t have said that; you didn’t mean it. You needed to say something, do something quickly before—

Dean chuckled, low and deep, without any hint of genuine amusement. “If that’s what you think happened, that this isn’t all your fault, then you’re not coming back.”

“Dean, please, no—” you tried to say, but the line cut out before you could even think of how to start your apology.

You stood there, numb, unsure of what to do.

Where do you go? Do you go back to Dean’s anyway? You’ve been living with him for so long. All your stuff is at his place. Surely he wouldn’t break up with you because of one small misunderstanding? Maybe if you go and explain in person—

Someone softly called your name.

You finally lowered your phone, but you still didn’t turn around, trying to calm your breathing and blink away the tears that threatened to spill.

“What happened?” the voice asked, close this time. Glancing out of the corner of your eye, you saw Matt, now standing beside you.

“I um…” You didn’t know what to say. Could you tell them the truth? Would they care? Would they even help you? “It’s nothing. I’m fine,” you said, trying to keep your voice even.

No, you couldn’t tell them. You wouldn’t put your troubles on these people, kind as they were. And chances were, Dean would call you the very next morning, begging your forgiveness. He would tell you how he shouldn’t have said that to you and ask you to come back.

It would be like every other time; you just knew, and the two of you would go back to normal and be happy.

“I need to get back,” you continued, trying to step around Matt, only for him to reach out, his hand hovering by your arm, making you stop.

“You said he kicked you out,” Matt said softly, brow furrowed in concern.

You had hoped he and Foggy and Karen hadn’t heard you. Clearly, you weren’t as quiet as you thought. Knowing your luck, the volume on your phone was likely so loud they probably heard everything Dean said.

You ran a hand over your face, trying to force down your embarrassment and anxiety.

It didn’t work.

You released a sharp, stuttering gasp, still unable to find the words when Matt asked, “Has he done this before?”

You hadn’t meant for it to be an answer, but Matt and the others took it as one nonetheless.

With a gentle hand on your shoulder, you let them lead you out of the cold.

At Matt’s apartment, you didn’t get the half-expected lecture/pep-talk combo that usually came in these situations.

None of the you deserve better, you shouldn’t let him treat you like that, don’t go back to him nonsense.

Instead, Matt, Foggy, and Karen hustled you into Matt’s place—the nicest of the three of them, and completely wasted on a blind man, according to Foggy.

“He should at least have a hole in the wall. Maybe two,” he complained to you.

They only asked if you were okay. If they could get you anything. You thought you saw Karen looking something up on her phone and sharing it with Foggy, but Matt distracted you by handing over a pair of socks to keep your feet warm and the softest blanket you had ever felt.

They spent the night acting as if everything was normal, like you belonged and this was something you had all done before.

You felt…completely at ease for the first time in a long time.

But even still, tears threatened to spill throughout the night, and you kept your phone clutched tightly in your hand, hoping for a call or text.

It was hedging past midnight. Foggy and Karen said their goodbyes an hour earlier and nothing from Dean appeared on your phone. You kept waiting, though. Watching the battery slowly deplete and afraid to ask for a charger. It would have been nothing compared to what Matt has already given you—even offering his own bed—but you didn’t want to add one more burden to the ever-growing list.

Even with the late hour, you and Matt kept talking. At first, about nothing and everything, simply whatever topic came to mind as had been the way since you met him earlier that evening. But then, after a lull, things changed.

Matt shifted on the couch across from you and licked his lips. His glasses were still on, but even so, you were still able to pick up on his nerves. 

“I had this girlfriend once,” he started, and you tensed, afraid of what was coming. As if he could sense you, he raised a hand, a gesture meant to calm, but from Matt, you weren’t sure.

“And…I was in love with her. I met her while I was in college, and from that first night, I was gone,” Matt recounted with a faint, somewhat bittersweet smile. But then he sobered, and his smile faded. “I almost gave up everything for her. More than once.”

A beat of silence passed.

“Why didn’t you? Give up everything?” you couldn’t help but ask. From your limited information, it sounded like it could have been incredibly romantic.

“Because I would have had to give up myself to be with her,” Matt answered, his voice soft, distracted by far-off thoughts.

His reasoning didn’t make any sense to you. You told him so.

Matt leaned back with a sigh. He reached for his tie—already loosened earlier in the night—and tugged on it as if it was still restricting him.

“I almost failed out of school after I met her. She’d ask me to meet her at odd hours—during the day, in the middle of the night. Whenever the urge struck her. I skipped class, missed assignments. The place I’d worked so hard to get to, and I just…” Matt shrugged like he didn’t understand his own actions. “None of it mattered when I was with her. And then she asked me to do something I couldn’t do. Said it would be good for me. I said no, and she left.” If you knew where Matt kept his liquor, you’d pour him a glass. He looked like he could use it.

You wondered what the point of the story was, why he was telling it to you. You toyed with the idea of calling it a night when Matt started up again.

“Years later, she came back. No matter how much I told myself it wouldn’t be like the last time, it still was. I followed her around, did what she asked. It was exciting. That time, though, I had the first with Foggy. He and Karen and I were working on a case I asked them to take, one they didn’t want anything to do with. I thought I could handle her and the case, but I just fucked everything up, and Foggy and Karen left. And then my ex…left again. The only thing I was left with was the mess I made.”

“Did she come back after that?” you asked. The tension in Matt’s shoulders, the way his fingers kept twitching, told you the answer before he did.

Matt nodded but didn’t say anything.

“What happened that time?” you prompted. If he started this story, he might as well finish it.

Matt gave you another smile, this one holding a touch of disgust. “Same thing all over again. I got pulled in and I thought, no matter what happened before, this time, I was going to save her. But I couldn’t, and I almost died because of it.”

“You’re joking,” you said, taken aback. You’ve heard stories about things ending badly between couples, but as far as you knew, you hadn’t met someone like that.

Matt shook his head, looking almost exhausted by the telling. “Couple of broken ribs, a good knock to the head. Lost most of my hearing for a while. And worst of all, I was alone. I’d driven everyone away.”

Though Matt was sitting in front of you, whole and healthy, you needed to know the ending now. What happened to Matt was horrible, but…

“Did you love her?” you asked.

Matt seemed shocked, hands frozen on his tie and brow furrowed.

“I did.”

“And if she comes back, will you forgive her?” That’s all that matters to you in the end—love and forgiveness. “Will you go back to her?”

Matt took a sharp breath and then shifted uncomfortably. “It… wouldn’t be good if I did,” he said.

“Why not? If you love her and can forgive her, then what’s stopping you from being together,” you asked, confused. It’s how you and Dean made it through all your rough patches. You were sure it was how you’d make it through this one.

Matt sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, dislodging his glasses but still keeping them on.

“She wasn’t…” Matt started slowly,  sounding frustrated. “She wasn’t always a good person. I lost myself when she was around. I couldn’t see anything beyond her. Her attention was...intoxicating. And poisonous.”

“She could change. If she promised to do better, be better—” Matt stopped you before you could argue further. You weren’t sure why you tried to in the first place.

“No,” he said, his voice wavering ever so slightly. “I wouldn’t go back to her. And it doesn’t matter. She died.”

You flinched, the answer and the revelation striking you harder than it should have. It wasn’t the outcome you…wanted to hear, you supposed.

“Oh,” you offered, your reaction stilted. What was the proper way to respond to something like that? “I’m so sorry.”

Matt nodded and rubbed his face again, looking defeated. Whatever energy he had earlier in the evening was completely gone. “I should let you go to bed.”

That night was awful. You tossed and turned, hardly finding sleep and plagued by nightmares. Every time you woke up, you checked your phone. The lack of any communication from Dean only made you feel worse.

The sun was just starting to kiss the horizon when you finally gave up on sleep. Not long after, you heard Matt rise from the couch and start puttering around the kitchen. He tried to be quiet, but the sounds echoed throughout the space anyway.

“Morning,” you called softly as you left the bedroom.

“Morning,” Matt greeted in return. “Coffee or tea?”

He had his glasses on. They almost seemed out of place with his t-shirt and sweatpants. You had only seen him in his work suit. He still looked good, though, you decided.

“Tea.” You sat at the small table and watched Matt deftly move around his kitchen to prepare your cup.

“I only have black tea,” he said apologetically.

“Good.” You preferred it anyway.

Silence fell between the two of you again, even as Matt handed you your mug and joined you at the table.

After a while, Matt shifted in his seat. “What…do you want to do?”

You knew he wasn’t asking about a stroll in the park.

You leaned forward onto the table, both hands clutching the mug as you stared unseeing into the last dregs of your tea. If only there were leaves to tell you what to do.

Rubbing your lips together, you played with the dead skin there, trying to put off answering. If you didn’t say anything, you could stay in this moment forever.

Matt said your name, drawing your attention, needing your answer.

“I want to go to Dean’s place,” you finally said, trying to sound confident and sure of yourself. If he wasn’t going to talk to you, try to figure things out, then you needed to step up. You didn’t want to be like Matt and his ex; you understood, eventually, what he was trying to tell you, but you wanted to fight for your relationship, no matter how hard it was at times. You loved each other, so it had to be worth it.

Matt’s hands were clutched together in a white-knuckle grip on the tabletop. The muscle in his jaw twitched, but otherwise, his expression was blank.

“Do you want to go back to him?” His voice was low, an emotion you couldn’t decipher tinged the edges. Nothing like Dean, where you would know you did something wrong by the tone of his voice alone.

“I do.” You kept your back straight and your eyes on his face, steeling yourself for whatever Matt might say next.

He and his friends hadn’t given you a lecture about your relationship last night. Maybe Matt would try now.

But all he said was, “Okay.”

He insisted on walking you to your apartment. You had tried to tell him it was far, that he surely had work, you were fine, really—all manner of things. Matt remained steadfast through it all. He didn’t get angry. Didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t say anything about you at all.

“I would feel better knowing you got home safe.”

Well. You couldn’t find a way to argue with that.

The walk to your building was much nicer than your wandering around the city the previous night. The air was still chilled, but the rising sun was able to peek through some of the buildings and cast a warm glow over you. Matt’s borrowed jacket also helped keep you warm, but all you could think of was how you’d have to give it back before Dean saw.

“This is me,” you told Matt, stopping in front of your building. You expected him to let go of your arm—you’d been guiding him the whole walk after you asked if it would be easier—but he didn’t. You only felt his fingers twitch.

“Do you mind if I go up with you?” he asked.

All you could think of was Dean. “I don’t—”

“Please. Dean won’t even see me.” It was like he could read your thoughts.

You chewed on your lip. “Alright,” you sighed. “But you have to take this back.”

You slipped the jacket off and handed it to Matt, the comfortable warmth leaving you all too soon.

You led Matt through the building, your steps slowing the closer you got to the door. When it finally came into view a few floors up, you touched Matt’s arm.

“Wait here,” you said, barely hearing yourself over the pounding of your heart. You told yourself it was just excitement at reconciling with Dean.

Only after your second tentative knock did you finally hear heavy footsteps inside. They stopped at the door, Dean likely looking through the peephole. You didn’t look up at it; he would see you clearly, and you knew to keep your head down when apologizing.

The hinges squeaked when he finally opened the door.

Neither of you spoke.

“I was wondering when you were coming over,” Dean said, his voice light, almost happy. You would have been happy—he seemed to have forgiven you—but your mind stuck on “coming over.” He said it like you were visiting. Like you weren’t living with him and just a new partner with their own apartment in another part of the city.

You risked a glance up at him anyway, a tentative smile on your lips. He looked at ease, and the roiling in your stomach started to ease.

Dean placed a hand on your shoulder, fingers digging into your skin, and pulled you through the door. 

“I’m so sorry about yesterday,” you started, ready to go over the speech you had prepared last night during your bouts of restlessness. Dean hummed, the sound rumbling deep in his chest.

Suddenly, your head slammed against the wall.

Dean had used the hand on your shoulder to shove you against the wall next to the door.

Wincing, dazed, you tried to raise a hand to the back of your head as if touching it would ease the pain, but Dean shook you, making your hand drop.

“What did I tell you about disrespecting me, hm?” Dean growled, his face so close to yours that the heat of his breath fanned over your face. He didn’t leave you room to answer before pulling you forward by your shoulder, only to slam you into the wall again. “And then running to some other guy? You thought you could get away with that?”

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered. Your heart started to pound, fear filling you. Dean had never hurt you before. The wall, sure. Occasionally, he got so upset that he’d break whatever item was on hand. But he’d never done anything to you. 

He wasn’t really hurting you, though. You tried justifying it. You weren’t bleeding; nothing was broken. You were sure you’d barely even have a bruise from his grip.

Dean has always been possessive of you. You’d always considered it a part of his charm. A guy who saw no one else and wanted no one else but you, and willing to stake his claim and not back down. It was all very romantic. Sure, it made it hard to keep in touch with family and friends, but you didn’t regret it.

At least, you didn’t think you did until you spent last night with Matt and his friends.

Someone called your name. It wasn’t until Dean whipped his head around that you realized it wasn’t him but someone from the hall.

Dean hadn’t closed the door.

Matt was standing in the doorway, his cane held down at his side, gripping it so tightly you swore you heard it creaking from the strain.

Dean changed instantly. His hands left you as he moved to fill the doorway with his body.

“What’s up, man? Need help with something?” Dean asked, sounding completely at ease and friendly as he eyed Matt up and down.

“I heard you,” Matt said, voice deadly quiet.

Dean acted confused. “Not sure I know what you’re talking about.” He gripped the door tighter, ready to slam it in Matt’s face.

“I think you do.” Matt tilted his head, turning his head like he knew where you were, and said your name. “Do you want to leave?”

Dean turned to you, a sneer on his face. “This is the guy you were with last night, babe?” he asked. How he managed to keep his voice sounding so amicable while his expression was anything but, you’ll never know.

You didn’t answer Dean, but he didn’t need you to.

“Appreciate the concern, but we’re good here.” Matt’s hand was on the door before Dean could slam it.

“I wasn’t asking you.”

Dean huffed a breath through his nose, sounding much like an agitated animal. “Go on, answer your friend.”

“I’m fine, Matt,” you said quietly.

“Everything’s fine, Matt,” Dean said with a triumphant grin. He tried closing the door, but Matt’s hand didn’t budge.

“Do you often slam people into walls for fun, or was this a special occasion?” Matt asked, and embarrassment flooded through you. You didn’t like that he knew what had happened to you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dean said.

“Sure you do.” Matt pushed on the door and attempted to step forward.

Either Dean wasn’t expecting it, or Matt was stronger because Dean jerked back as the door moved before putting his full weight behind it.

“Who the hell do you think you are trying to come into my place?” Dean spat, trying to force Matt back.

“A concerned friend. And between everything I heard last night and right now, I have every right to be.”

The battle of wills against the door hadn’t even caused Matt to break out in a sweat, meanwhile, Dean was struggling. You wanted to tell them to stop, to ask Matt to leave. You didn’t even understand why he was acting like this in the first place. After last night, you thought he wouldn’t try to interfere.

Matt turned back to you. “I’ll do whatever you say, but I need to know: do you want to leave this apartment?” It was as if the words pained him to say.

You were about to tell him, no, you were fine, that he was making things worse when Dean spoke.

“Stop talking.” He released the door, and Matt stumbled forward a step before catching himself. Before he could do anything else, Dean grabbed the front of Matt’s shirt.

You didn’t know what he was planning, whether he would hit Matt or shove him; you just knew you had to stop Dean.

Reacting blindly, you lunged forward, grabbing Dean’s arm, and tried to pull it back away from Matt. 

“Don’t—” was the only word you could get out before Dean thrust his arm back, shoving you and knocking you off balance.

Falling backward, you had no chance to catch yourself. You hit the floor hard, head banging on the vinyl tile, adding to the damage Dean did mere minutes ago.

Dazed, you laid there for a you didn’t know how long. When you finally came to enough, you heard Dean yelling and Matt calling your name.

Matt had Dean pressed against the wall, one arm braced across his chest to hold him in place. Even though Dean was spitting obscenities, he was still more composed than on his bad days. You didn’t understand it.

Matt wasn’t paying any attention to Dean; instead solely focused on you. 

You could finally make out his words.

“Are you alright?”

You nodded, hand holding the back of your head like it would ease the pain. You didn’t think about how Matt wouldn’t be able to see you.

“Grab your things,” Matt said over Dean’s venom, and you realized perhaps he saw more than you initially thought. “We’re leaving.”

You want to say you didn’t hesitate, but you did.

How could you leave Dean, especially when he was so angry? It would be even worse when you eventually came back.

And then you finally realized: it would get worse. Today was already bad, and even if Dean apologized, he still tried to hurt Matt. It took you even longer still to realize you didn’t want to lose another friend to Dean. He never treated his own friends like this, so why was he like that with yours?

Matt called your name again so softly you almost didn’t hear him.

“Okay,” you said and left to grab what little you could carry.

You went back to your parents’ place outside the city after that day. Matt took you back to his apartment after leaving Dean’s. He sat with you as you called your parents, who you haven’t had more than short and—you understand now—supervised conversations with in months.

You spent longer than you meant to with them. If you were being honest, you didn’t want to leave. You were afraid to.

Living without a roommate in the city was practically impossible unless you had a shitty apartment or an extremely well-paying job—the first you didn’t want and the second you didn’t have.

Slowly, though, you relearned what it was like being around other people again. You’d been isolated for long enough that the presence of other people at first left you nervous and twitchy, constantly looking over your shoulder for fear of being caught doing something you shouldn’t. The feeling subsided, and you remembered what it was like not to be alone. You were even able to move in with a friend and their boyfriend. You reconnected with some old friends and spoke to your parents so often that you were almost sick of it.

You’ve never been more thankful or felt more loved.

You hadn’t seen Matt or his friends in months. 

You didn’t know if it was entirely appropriate to reach out to them, even after all they did to help.

You had thought that, perhaps, they had forgotten about you. They helped so many people, surely one night with you wouldn’t have lodged itself into their memory like it did yours. They might have thought nothing of you, but you wouldn’t forget them.

The door to the restaurant slams closed behind you, the wind forcing it shut. You’re happy you didn’t flinch this time, though it’s at least partially because you’ve been hearing the sound all day. The weather is warming up, but the chill is persistent, a wind storm sent to remind everyone that winter won’t go easily.

You glance at the time on your phone again, praying your takeout arrives soon. You had called ahead, but the weekend left the staff busy. Typical for a Friday night. Despite the protestations of your stomach, however, you were willing to wait.

It’s the restaurant Matt, Foggy, and Karen took you to that night. You hadn’t been since, but you couldn’t help but crave the meal you had that night, wondering if the freedom to choose your own food would make it taste better.

“Hey!” someone calls from behind you, whoever threw the door open a moment ago. Probably someone jackass upset that a server hasn’t come to seat them yet. The thought makes you roll your eyes as you swipe between apps on your phone.

And then someone says your name.

As if summoned by your very thoughts, Matt, Foggy, and Karen are standing behind you, smiling at you like old friends. 

“Hi,” you say, at a loss for words despite the grin spreading across your face.

“It’s been a while. How are you?” Karen asks carefully. She looks you over, likely taking note of your weather-appropriate outfit. You’re sure Matt would have told them what happened, but none of them would know what became of you afterward.

“I’m—” you cut yourself off, forcing yourself not to give the same polite ‘I’m good’ you give everyone. “I’m doing a lot better now. Thank you.” 

Thanking her for asking, thanking all of them for helping you.

“How’s Dean?” Matt asks next, making Foggy elbow him in the side. 

“Don’t know,” you shrug. “Haven’t seen him in a while.” Matt tries to hide a smile, but it still forces its way through. 

“Good,” he says unabashedly. Foggy elbows him again with a scolding Matt! under his breath.

“It’s fine,” you laugh. “It’s… it’s a good thing.”

“You should eat with us,” Foggy suggests. “We should catch up.”

Warmth filled you, and you were about to jump at the chance to say yes when the server finally arrived.

“I’m so sorry about your wait. Here’s your order,” the young woman says to you, crushing your excitement.

You offer your thanks and take your bag before turning back to your almost-friends.

“Another time,” you say apologetically, gesturing with your bag. 

“What’s your number,” Matt says before you can make your way to the door. “We can set something up for another time.”

You bite your lip, trying to hide your grin. “I’d like that.”

[krispycreamcake]

For whom the church bell tolls

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Fandom: Diabolik lovers

Pairings: Yuma mukami x Shu Sakamaki (Yui's here too)

Tags: angst, enemies to lovers, childhood friends, slow burn, dialogue driven, mlm, love triangle, mentions of death, child abuse, blood, blood sucking, kinda kinky if you squint, biblical themes

Content summary: A cute little chat between repressed homosexuals

Also not proof read leave me alone

It was the middle of fall, the air was crisp, the sky dull with apprehensive winter gloom, leaves just beginning to fully finish their golden transformation, the smell of rain always being there. Parks now lay barren and empty as school children finally resume their classes after summer vacation, what was once an active town filled with the shrill voice of students, now lay disturbingly quiet with the deafening sounds of adults' judgemental glances and whispers.

The mansion at this time of year was more depressing than usual, ironically it was probably the most peaceful. Almost no one was ever home, Reiji would make sure of it that none of his brothers were to miss any of their classes, especially during such a slow time in the school year. Lots of students often wouldn't show up to school at all in favour of staying warm inside their homes. This was also flu season for Ryoutei Academy due to the harsh cold mixed with the close proximity of students. All one would hear in the hallway were marching footsteps and the occasional coughing of sickened students pushing themselves for that glint of validation for exceeding their parents' expectations and bringing honour to their family name.

Shu didn't mind attending his classes at these times due to the peaceful nature of an empty school. Of course that doesn't mean he was paying any attention in class or completing assignments. It was for this very reason that him and Reiji were arguing right now.

"You worthless slob. Tsk- I don't even know why father bothers sending you to such a well renowned academy. This is the 4th time this week a teacher has pulled me aside to say that you aren't doing anything in class, and one time you even walked out during a lecture!"

Reiji said as he propped up his glasses with his middle finger, slamming shut the book he was reading for dramatic effect.

"And yet I'm still the favourite. Why don't you just shut up and stop wasting your time."

Reiji felt his chest tighten as a slur of detestable words started to fly out his mouth in such a commotion that Shu had no time to process what he was even saying. He popped in his earphones and teleported to the graveyard.

The cold winds of the night howled and whipped through his hair, blocking his eyesight as he leaned against an unmarked grave. Red, yellow and orange leaves rustled under his weight as he crushed them to bits. Pale hands gripping what was left of the leaves, the bright and lively colours contrasting the surrounding area, and more importantly, his feelings.

He leaned his head back as he turned up the volume of his iPod. His breathing slow and concentrated, almost forceful. Usually, Reiji's words never bothered him, but he had just woken up from that dream again. Flames everywhere, the smell of smoke suffocating his lungs as he stood there helpless, unable to do anything but watch.

He felt tears spring up as he scrunched his face, delicate features writhing in agony. His index finger brushed up against his cheek, feeling the tears for what they were.

"Typical... How bothersome. No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to forget. Even after hundreds of years, you still haunt me. Heh.. Was that your intention all this time? What a stalker..."

His body tensed as a wave of wind rushed past him. Face immediately turning into a scowl as the smell of decay hit him like a bus. His body rigid as he sat up.

"Show yourself."

Was all Shu said before a long pause of silence enveloped the cemetery. Before long, Shu heard a chuckle. The winds carried the sound so far away that he couldn't detect where it even came from.

'Thump'

An apple had fallen from a tree above Shu, hitting him directly on his head. He swiftly looked to the ground to observe the fruit before the same voice called out again.

"Ya know yer s'posed to look up not down right?"

Shu's head immediately spun around, eyes searching through the trees before almost immediately spotting the third nuisance of that dreaded household. Yuma Mukami. For such a hard worker, it seemed odd to see him sitting lazily on an apple tree branch, completely relaxed with such a smirk on his face.

"You did that on purpose."

Shu replied bluntly.

"Harsh winds."

Yuma retorted just as quick.

"Whatever. Just stay out of my way, you and your brothers are too much of a hassle to even have to go to school with."

Shu said as he put back in his earphones.

"Hmph, everything for you is a hassle. But what could you really expect from such a lazy asshole? I'm surprised you even made it all the way out here without falling asleep."

Yuma said, taking a bite out of the fruit.

"Heh- you're bold when you have nothing to be cocky about. Maybe you're into that sort of thing?"

Yuma raised his eyebrow at this before taking another bite, speaking with a mouthful of apple.

"What the hell are ya on about? You tryna insinuate somethin'?"

Shu smirked as he finally looked up at him.

"Well, you're here aren't you? You're a long way from home, so one can imagine the lengths you'd go just to see me."

Yuma snorted just before a piece of the apple almost got stuck in his windpipe, causing him to cough and sputter all over the place. Shu in the meantime, feeling pleased with how this interaction went, decided to step away from under the tree and take in his bewildered expression.

"Haa? Are ya right in the head or somethin'? I'd never go for such a slow guy like yourself!"

Yuma shouted from above.

Shu clicked his tongue before his face went cold suddenly.

"She's not here."

Yuma finally stopped munching on the apple before looking him directly in his eyes. Their gazes meeting in a silent battle for dominance.

"You knew?"

Now, it was Shu's turn to laugh.

"Wasn't it obvious from the start?"

Yuma flung his head back as he looked up at the leaves above him.

"I suppose."

Shu walked right up under him and put his hands into the pockets of his cardigan.

"Make no mistake, there's no way I'd let half breeds like you even think about getting your hands on my prey, let alone taking it."

Yuma didn't respond, too busy thinking about how he's going to tell his older brother that he failed his task.

"If that's all that you came here for, you can leave now."

Despite their almost friendly banter before, the air had now turned sour, the stench of pent up aggravation for one another permeating the atmosphere. They were just too different. So why was Shu disappointed?

Yuma finally jumped off from the branch he was perched up on, a heavy thud breaking the silence.

"Where is she?"

Yuma said, the apple in his hand now lay limp as he barely put in enough effort to hold it correctly, one twitch of a finger and the fruit would have fallen to the ground.

"Why would I care?"

Shu didn't even bother to turn around and face him, in turn he just stared blankly at the field of graves beyond him.

"Tch- you should."

Shu didn't miss a single beat before responding.

"I don't. I don't care whether she lives or dies, she's only prey. The only thing that's remarkable about her is the quality of her blood."

Yuma felt something rise within him, like a deep slated anger for something more than just this conversation.

"It's always you damn rich kids that never appreciate the good things in life. It leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. High quality prey and you can't even be bothered to know where it is! What a bunch of stuck up assholes, all of you Sakamakis."

Yuma snapped back at him, memories of constant injustice plaguing his mind, as he remembered how awfully he was treated as a kid.

Shu didn't respond and instead just began to leave the situation.

"Hey! I'm talkin to ya! Don't you know it's rude to walk away when yer conversatin' with someone!?Stop walking goddammit!"

Yuma shouted as he ran up and harshly tugged on his shoulder, forcing Shu to stop in his tracks.

It wasn't long before Shu quickly became agitated and immediately spun around to confront Yuma. He didn't say a word, instead just looking directly at him, his eyes scanning over his attacker's build.

"What a stuck up prick. I thought I told you stop where you were goin?"

Yuma spoke up, not feeling the slightest bit intimated by his stare.

"If you really want her, then you can go look yourself. She's in the church."

And with those words, Shu immediately teleported away.

Yuma was taken aback and just stood there.

"The fuck is that guy's problem?? Why'd he just...."

Before Yuma could say anymore, he followed Shu's advice and went to visit the church.

There she stood, about to get on her knees and devote herself to the eternal divine. No regret flushing her cheeks, no panicked heartbeats or irregular breaths. Her school uniform was still untainted as she clasped her hands together, fang marks being covered by the long sheet of fabric that made her sleeve, hiding her sin and tucking it away from the watchful eye of the holy one.

How ironic, because she knew more than anyone else, nothing could ever hide from him. Especially not one of his most prized possessions being devoured by Satan's seed. Maybe it was out of respect that she covered her flaws, to not spit in the face of God and dare threaten his unwavering love and mercy by showing just how bad of a job he was doing when it came to protecting his most devout follower.

Nonetheless, there she lay, hymns chanting over and over in her mind. However, all that did was get Yuma more riled up. He stalked over to her before quietly sneaking up right behind her. He forcefully grabbed a handful of hair and yanked it back as hard as he could, watching as her eyes shot open and immediately became teary.

"Y-yuma kun! What are you doing!? Please- stop!"

Was all the poor girl could muster due to her increasing pain. Despite everything, no matter what she went through, Yui never screamed harshly or made it known that she was in obvious pain, except for the polite indications she'd often spew out. Through it all, Yui remained ever gracious and gentle, despite people belittling her for her soft nature, she knew it was the right way to be. That's just the kind of person she was.

Yuma chuckled sadistically.

"Well sow, as sexy as you looked gettin' all on yer knees like that without anyone forcin' ya too.... The only man you should ever worship....is me."

Yui blinked in shock as Yuma raised her to her feet and spun her around, hand clenching her jaw in the way that couples would often do, thumb caressing her cheek as his pointer finger pressed into her mandible, squeezing her face together.

He studied her expression, taking in the perpetual fear she wafted off onto him. His sharpened gaze dug into her skin, forcing her eyes to back away and surrender.

"What? Can't stand a little staring contest?"

Yuma probably thought he was the funniest person in the room, but the truth was, no one was laughing.

His smile dropped as he scolded her for not humoring his little jokes. The brutality never ended between vampire and prey, no matter how small or stupid the situation might be. He grabbed her by her throat, calloused hands squeezing her esophagus, bruising her newly healed skin with marks of his own, these ones not being as easy to seal up. He watched mercilessly as she clawed at him, begging him, crying for him to stop. He watched. He looked. He stared. But never, did he see the painful situation in front of him.

Yui's eyes watered as she felt her chest tighten and her body feel light. Not here... Oh god not now. She tried as hard as she could to push him away, but instead let out pathetic gurgles that made her abuser laugh at her attempts to save herself.

"W-why..? Yu.... Ma kun..."

Her face turned blue, hoping that in her last moments conscious, she could get some answers. Nothing in her life made sense, so it was only reasonable for her to continuously question the unknown. The only thing they haven't done to her by this point was cut off her tongue to physically silence her, yet, she wouldn't put it above them.

Just before her vision became completely dark, she heard Yuma mutter a curse word before letting go of her. She lay limp on the floor after her body crashed with the cold marble.

"So you came."

Yuma said, almost under his breath like if he'd been anticipating this.

"How daft are you? Did you really think I wouldn't?"

Shu said, words like daggers as he made his way over to Yuma. The pale moonlight made him seem ethereal as he flew down from the edge of the church's ledge where paintings and candles were propped up on. His being floated towards Yuma, a magnificently made glass mural of Yeshua painted behind him. His body covering the holy lord every bit of the way, yet the angels and trumpets surrounded his heavenly figure, playing a mocking melody of worship still lay visible, celebrating their saviour.

His golden locks just barely covering the deep blue intensity of his orbs, skin unmarred by the battle of time, face as delicate as the last surviving rose of winter. Cold, beautiful, on the brink of death itself. Despite his calloused expression, Yuma couldn't help but feel warm just looking at this falsely angelic creature slowly descending towards him. Eyes widened with curiousity like a child discovering something new that it still cannot yet comprehend. That feeling of the ever approaching dread of the unknown, mixed with the fascination all humans are born with.

Unknowingly, he stepped over Yui's cold unmoving body to get closer to Shu as he finally made his way down.

"Took ya long enough."

Yuma said, throat unbearably dry.

"Why were you trying to kill her?"

Silence enveloped the both.

"I wasn't-"

Shu's gaze hardened as he cut off Yuma.

"Shut up. I don't want to hear any of your lies. Stop wasting my time and tell me why."

Yuma put his hand in his pocket casually, obviously not caring about how upset Shu had gotten.

"She's not just your prey. I can do whatever the fuck I please with her."

Shu grinded his teeth but tried his best to keep his nonchalant demeanor.

"Thought ya didn't care whether she lives or dies?"

In a second, Shu's eyes immediately widened. A smile of disbelief almost gracing his face.

"So that's why...."

Yuma looked surprised and confused.

"The hell are ya talkin bout now? That's why what?"

Yuma said defensively, trying to figure out what was going on.

"Heh... Pfft... Ha.. Hah... Hahaha- HAHAHAHA"

Yuma's brows furrowed together.

"The fuck is wrong with ya!? Yer startin to creep me out!"

Shu continued to laugh, eventually holding his stomach to contain himself as Yuma looked on in horror.

"You- me- did you.....really think?"

Yuma's stomach turned at this.

"Did I think what!? Spit it out asshole! Stop bein' so cryptic."

Shu couldn't gather himself as he continued laughing, eventually tears began streaming out as he almost fell back, a hand covering half his face in an attempt to hold himself together.

"H-hey... What's with this whole act you're puttin on? It's.....Are you ok? You're...."

Yuma tried salvaging what was left of Shu's sanity but quickly proved futile.

"You- you remind me so much of... Him. It's uncanny! Everywhere I go, he's there. If I'm awake or I'm asleep, he's there. Around every corner, waiting for me, reminding me of the failure that I am! I couldn't- I couldn't even.... Save him."

Eventually the laughter stopped, and all that was left was a heartbroken man trying to stand on his own, but failing miserably as he kept stumbling back. The tears kept coming as both his hands were now desperately and frantically trying to glue back together the bits of his mind as he began to tighten his hold on himself.

Yuma stared at the mess of a man in front of him. He understood none of his ramblings but was determined to figure out what was going on.

"Who do I remind you of? Who are you talking about...?"

Shu stayed quiet for a long time before slowly looking up at him.

"It.... Doesn't matter. He's dead now. He's dead and it's my fault...."

Yuma stepped closer as he cautiously reached out his hand, eventually shaking Shu out of his trance. Just as he did, he watched in horror as the blond's eyes grew dull and dead.

"Look dude, I dunno whatever issues ya got goin' on inside yer head, but you gotta pull yourself together. We all got demons, that's no doubt. Every one of us, even sow over there. But what I'm tryna say is, ya gotta let the past be the past."

Shu looked at Yuma in disbelief. How'd he ever get to the point where he'd be comforted by a half breed?

"D'ya really think whoever it is yer sniveling about would like to see how pathetic you look right now? I'm sure he'd have wanted you to continue living life to the best of yer ability, without regrets! And don't get it wrong- I'm not tellin you this because I care about you or anythin', I enjoy the chase. Ever since I became a vampire, having to track down my prey and forcefully take it from you assholes has been a delight. It sparks somethin' in me."

Yuma paused before slapping the both sides of Shu's shoulders like if he just gave him a pep talk for an upcoming football game. His eyes sparkled and his smile widened.

"So.... Don't let me down kay? Otherwise it's no fun for me at all, so stop yer whinin'!"

Shu calmed down a bit, but the poison still lingered. He began to take deep breaths through his mouth, not having a beating heart meant that trying to calm yourself like this was futile in every way, but he decided to count his breaths. Each number, a step away from the edge.

"I can't even remember what he smells like..... So even if there was somehow a slim chance he was standing right in front me, I wouldn't know."

Shu said quietly. It seemed as if in this very rare moment, he was finally speaking the honest thoughts that came to mind, instead of just bottling it up like usual.

"Ya gotta stop thinkin' so much. The past is the past for a reason, it's not healthy to keep it draggin' behind ya every minute of yer life. You're not even human... So you'd be regrettin' this forever."

Yuma said, a pang of sympathy and understanding hitting him like a bus.

"Look... Ya think we wanted to become monsters? We had no other choice. It was an opportunity to have a restart at everything that ever went wrong.... And a lot went wrong. It's not easy for me to live while the others I cared about just dropped like flies. Course I got my brothers, and I'm thankful for that, but knowing that I'll outlive my own timeline is unthinkable.... I shouldn't even be alive right now, but I am."

Shu stayed quiet this time, mind blank as he begrudgingly listened.

"None of us had a great childhood, hell even a good one! Ya probably don't know this, and that's cause you shouldn't, so don't go blabberin yer mouth bout it! But...."

Yuma paused, apprehension thick in the air. It was almost suffocating.

"The world is a cruel place, humans are cruel. We were barely even teenagers when that guy came to us."

Shu was slightly taken aback, but refused to let it show. Still, that's how long that their precious father have been in contact with these people?

"What I'm gettin' at is, the world's unfair. But if you can bend it to your will, you can have anything nd anyone. But.... I'm not that sorta person, you are. So don't let anyone steal yer throne, or else I'll miss that look of jealousy on your face whenever I'm drinkin from yer sow over there."

Yuma chuckled at this, remembering just how fun it was to tease him. Shu on the other hand immediately became irritated once again and slapped his hands away.

"It's not jealous."

Yuma's eyes widened as he stroked his chin.

"Haa? Never would've taken ya to be the tsundere type.... Were my words so inspiring, you're finally revealing your true colours perhaps?"

Shu scoffed at this before walking towards Yui. But not before bumping his shoulder against Yuma's chest forcing him out the way.

"Oi! What was that about! Hey! I'm talkin to ya!"

Yuma said, extremely offended. Shu continued to walk over and picked up Yui's body. Her neck stained with the marks of her perpetrator. Shu scoffed once more before scanning her entire body.

"Relax I didn't kill her-"

Shu once again cut him off.

"You didn't bite her either."

Yuma casually walked towards the both of them.

"Eh? Oh, I wasn't in the mood. She was all on her knees prayin' and it gave me the heebie geebies."

Shu picked her up bridal style, the slow sounds of her breath the only noise in the entire building.

"Well I am. And she's unconscious so it's no fun. Do you finally see for yourself how much of a nuisance you Mukamis are?"

Now, it was Yuma's turn to scoff.

"You knew where she was all this time, why didn't you just take her?"

Shu walked closer to Yuma, Yui still limp in his arms. He gave a sadistic smirk.

"Because how else would you fulfill your plan?"

Yuma rolled his eyes and shouted out again.

"What the hell is with you and these coded messages!? What plan!?"

Shu dropped Yui harshly at his feet, her body rolling over to Yuma, uniform coming slightly undone as teeth marks that were previously hidden, now shone visibly on her thigh.

"Shit..."

Shu chuckled before looking directly at Yuma.

"Why'd you bite her exactly over my fang marks and not even bother to heal it properly?"

Yuma crossed his arms and pouted his lips.

"To claim dominance obviously!"

Shu stretched out his hand. Grasping a small strand of Yuma's hair, gently tugging on it until he reached the end of the strand.

"The fuck ya think yer doin' all of a sudden!?"

Shu's smile dropped as his voice rung deep within the church walls.

"You're more of a pervert than I thought. I'm just testing to see how far you'll go before I break you."

Yuma's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he stumbled backwards.

"A-are ya out of yer mind!? The hell's gotten into ya!?"

Shu grabbed his arm, forcing him to come back right in the very spot he left.

"I'm not as slow as you think I am. Don't deny it. All this time... You just wanted to get me alone by using my own prey as bait to lure me."

Yuma's expression only got worse as he struggled to make words connect, stumbling across his pronunciations instead, stuttering with every sentence.

"I-it's not like that! Bes-sides I'm not! I- I don't! I'm not into guys!"

Shu looked at him with a toothy grin before responding.

"What a lie."

In seconds, Shu's fangs were on him. His mouth coming in contact with his throat, almost as if trying to kill him. Teeth piercing into flesh that had never felt fangs before, skin writhing underneath as cold unsavory crimson flowed out. Yuma stood there paralyzed, eyes wide as he looked up towards the ceiling. Pain overtook his senses, but was immediately replaced with something more.

"Kuh- ya don't just.... Do that to people."

Was all he could mutter out. Of course, Shu didn't care. But, he did rip out his fangs from the wounded flesh to get a better look at his expression.

"Heh... You don't need to be into guys to enjoy pleasure when it's given to you. But by the look on your face, you already know this, right?"

Yuma looked at Shu, then slowly towards Yui.

"Course I know that.... I'm not some weak minded virgin like sow. But even so...."

Yuma immediately cut himself off as he watched the blood dribble down Shu's mouth. Not just any blood, but his blood. That's when it hit him.

"I'm... Bleeding. I can smell it."

Shu walked towards him, this time he was the one stepping over Yui.

"I know you like her."

Yuma was taken aback but decided to stand his ground.

"What's it to ya if I do? It ain't none of yer damn business!"

Shu looked to the floor. Silence once again.

"You mean that, don't you?"

Yuma hesitated before following his gaze to the floor.

"Course. She's.... Different."

Shu made a 'tsk' sound before angrily approaching Yuma, this time, getting so close that Yuma needed to back away.

"H-hey don't go gettin' mad at me! Seconds ago you were just at my throat!"

Shu scoffed before raising his head up, not even bothering to meet Yuma's gaze.

"I was just curious. Don't think too much about it, because there's nothing to think about."

Yuma felt his hands go clammy at his words.

"Wh-what.."

Before he could even fully process what Shu had meant, he was gone. Yui was gone as well, to no surprise of anyone. But still...

"Geez, what a weird guy..."

Author's note: heyyyyy guys guess who's back😍 sorry I abandoned you but hopefully you'll accept this as my formal apology. I love every one of you and I wanna say thanks for sticking with me even when I'm not my best, I really do appreciate the community we've built on this platform.❤❤

[mashmouths]

post limit was created to silence women