#101 Strings
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re: that post I just reblogged. adansey being gagged by the red string of fate
"And another thing," Gansey says, waving his hands in front of his face, fingers spread wide to communicate his sheer and genuine alarm. "It is frighteningly common how often people will just- read things off the internet! And believe them! I mean, have people never heard of cross-referencing? Or common sense? If I have to hear someone say 'isn't Wales a city in England' one more time I'm going to do something- indecent, I swear-"
"I would pay to see Gansey do something indecent," Ronan mutters, head resting on his hand propped up by his elbow.
Adam doesn't say anything. He likes listening to Gansey's voice, even as the words get repetitive and he goes down the trail of one of his frequent rants. The illiteracy and lack of responsible reading of some of his Aglionby peers is a common frustration, one that comes up in history when Gansey argues with some idiot about historical truth or accuracy, and one that comes up when they talk about Owain Glyndŵr.
Ronan swears that Gansey must be half in love with him, that he must have another red thread tying him to some decrepit body somewhere, but if he does Adam hasn't seen it- though he supposes he wouldn't. He can only see the strings tying him to Gansey, as Ronan can only see the strings tying him to whoever is unlucky enough to be his fated partner.
"Indecency!" Gansey latches onto the word like a madman sticking pins in a corkboard. Adam wonders if their string of fate is strong enough to use as red yarn to wind around their complicated conspiracy board or if it would shimmer and go opaque, like it does when there's an obstacle in between them. "That's their problem- there are no decent men left in the world, and none even close to decent in our school-"
Ronan sighs and gets up, Gansey slightly too distracted with his raving lunatic rambling to notice. "Shout when he runs out of steam." He slouches off to his room and shuts the door.
Gansey's head jerks up. "Where did Ronan go?"
"His room," Adam says. He tracks the way Gansey's brows furrow and his lip purse together in displeasure. It's poised and proper, yet a little petty, petulant, even.
"Speaking of no decency," Gansey says darkly. He has an affinity for dramatics, Adam thinks, fond if mildly irritated as Gansey starts talking senselessly and relentlessly again. At this point he's just talking for the sake of talking, which is not something Adam partakes in. He prefers to use his words wisely.
There's a thump from Ronan's room and muffled, frenetic music. Adam stares down at the calculus equations he's trying to do, the numbers refusing to make sense with Gansey's ceaseless words making Adam's brain fuzz.
He bites his tongue. He'll have to do something about this.
Adam starts gathering up their string. It's short because they're close by right now, but it lengthens as Adam lays it over itself to make a thick band of ephemeral, bright red material, unworldly and just on the normal side of magical. When he has a hunk of string that suits him, he stands.
"Adam, what on earth are you doing?" Gansey asks, staring at his hands. "I didn’t even know one could do that."
"I am occasionally an innovator," Adam says articulately, coming to stand directly in front of Gansey.
"Of course you are," Gansey responds, not automatically but instantly. "Adam, you're one of the brightest- mmph."
Adam had gotten sick of Gansey's talking a while ago, but he especially has no patience for it now that it's about him. "Sometimes my innovations are even useful." He brings the thick gathering of string around Gansey's mouth, making sure it stays tightly between his lips, pressing down lightly on his tongue so that he can't speak. Adam ties a knot that he's not sure is real and might be mostly made of wishful thinking, then steps back around to see how his work is faring.
"A'tha," Gansey fumbles, still trying to talk through the gag. Adam can hear him breathing wetly. "Ahw?"
"Gansey," Adam says, and makes sure every word is precisely pronounced. "Shut up for a while, okay?"
Gansey huffs, unable to speak. He grabs onto Adam's shirt collar before Adam can pull away and settles for looking at him with his stupid, liquid brown eyes, those eyes that say so much without ever putting a sound to it. Those eyes that draw Adam in again and make him smooth a hand over Gansey's cheek reassuringly, that make him press his thumb to the delicate hollow behind his hear. The eyes that have always been a window to Gansey's soul, even when neither of them can say anything aloud.
Even without words, Adam can still tell what Gansey means.
#this isn't perfect. and tootally unedited. but its like a snippet so whatever#also like adam is such a bitch. he is being mean to gansey. they are how to have an unhealthy relationship 101#and i imagine ronan is fated to be with adam but adam hasn't discovered their string yet or whatever#theyre a bit horny. but its adansey. when arent they. like#adansey#trc#lori writes#edit: moved the readmore
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Hang on thought about pastry arts school again

#like. why and HOW did i go through 2 full years of college and not graduate with an associates#how did they get away with stringing me along for 1.5+ years as a pastry arts major with no pastry chef#the one pastry class i did have when i met the pastry chef before he quit. it was like. taunting#bc it wasnt extremely new info to me it was baking 101. but the chef was such an amazing teacher#and i was so excited to learn from him#and i cant blame him at all for quitting like bro i wouldn't wanna work there either !!!!#they couldn't hire another pastry chef for almost 2 years bc NO ONE WANTED TO WORK FOR THE PROGRAM HEAD#i know of 2 separate stories where one chef in the area wanted to get into teaching and then heard who the boss chef was and said oh nvm 😬#and one chef who got hired and then quit before he could start bc he couldn't stand to work with that man#like i Know the food service industry is tough and intense and chefs have a reputation for being jerks#i Know that. and multiple people warned me of that before i started. and sometimes im like wow i was wrong i couldn't actually handle it#everyone told me i couldn't handle it and i said yes i could and then i couldn't#but is that really what happened???? bc there were other jerk chefs in that school!! and still no one could stand that ONE MAN!!!!!#we literally complained to the president of the college. and she said uwu hes doing his best 🥺#bc thats the thing with him. you think hes nice until you're in the kitchen with him. he IS nice until youre in the kitchen with him#i truly think he designed the course in order to weed out the weak ones#and ig it worked bc so many people dropped out !!!!! but like . sir. i started that program at 17 years old#a fully prepared 17 year old. a smart 17 year old. a talented 17 year old. an eager and excited 17 year old. but a 17 year old#we were learning how to COOK not DISARM BOMBS. i hope hes glad that my 17-19 year old self got weeded out for being weak.#congratulations man you broke me.#literally he gave me the worst panic attack of my life on the first day and was so mean to me bc of my anxiety and how shy i was#to the point that i finally admitted i needed to go to the doctor#and then when i started some meds. and also was OUT OF HIS CLASS. and in the pastry class. and was a little more comfortable#he wanted to take credit for 'bringing me out of my shell' 😐 and i wish i had said what i was thinking. and looked him in the eye#and said thanks its cause of the drugs.#not only were the internship hours insane but also the class hours and the graduating test#i get that the classes have to be longer bc we need time for things to cook but . 8/9 hours ??? dudeeee#obviously i didn't get to the graduating test class thing but the way he described it sounded like torture 😭#and ofc you cant find that info online before you enroll. and they only offered it in summer#so if you finished in fall you still had to wait through spring to technically graduate. assuming you pass the week long torture test
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#string machines#keyboards#synthesizers#70s#80s#roland#rs-101#rs-09#korg#korg delta#trident#arp solina#rs-505
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Never in my wildest dreams, did I think I would be announcing such a DREAM come true!!
Please help Super Kera accomplish this goal, all while snagging a Restrumed & _____ Merch Set!!!!
The link to the merchandise is in the comments!!
#restrumed #guitarstringjewelry #upcycled #jewelry #guitar #guitarpick #guitarist #musicians #artist #wearableart #guitarstrings #music #musiclover #gifts #crohnswarrior #fender #gibson #madeindetroit #bandmerch #stageusedjewelry #themachineshop #easternmarket #pineknob #wrif #wriffest #festival #detroit #flint #michigan #superkera
#wrif#101 the wrif#guitar string jewelry#licensed guitar pick jewelry#restrumed#guitar string jewelry artist#detroit#flint#rochester#waterford#ann arbor#lapeer#farmington hills#bloomfield hills#wriffest#music festival#bucketlist#dream come true#upcycled jewelry#musicians#classic rock#metal#metal music#guitar
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Your first time riding Nanami Kento
Pairings- Nanami x F! reader
MDNI/NSFW- just smut tbh, Nanami calls reader darling, and a 'fuck toy', talking you through it, explicit sex, oral (f receiving) cum play, dirty talk
Nanami falls apart when you're on top of him for the first time, a man so dominant just loves to watch your tits bounce, your face fucked out, lips opening and emitting a gasp of pleasure. Nanami's big hands press into your hips, as you roll on his cock, walls convulsing as your thighs press against his hips.
"That's it, you're doing so good, darling..." He's murmuring, watching you work, seeing his cock disappearing in and out of your soaking wet little cunt, drooling across the soft pubic hair, making it glisten. "Fuck, look at you, riding me. Can you take all of it?"
"N-Nanami... is this... y-you sure..." You're struggling to take about half of his veiny length, stretching out your cunt, burning just a bit, but it feels so fucking good, so good you just stop for a moment, whining then."
"Do you need me to take over, pretty girl?" He whispers, leaning up then, as you brace your hands on his chest, well muscled and so defined.
"No, I w-wanna do it..." He's chuckling just a bit, strong abdomens tensing and flexing, cupping your face as he jerks his hips up so mean then, shoving his cock fully in- earning your gasp. "Mnh! F-fuck..."
"Feel her, she wants me to do the work, hmm?" You're laying on his chest, thin sheen of sweat between you both, when he holds your hips up, cock drenched with your arousal. "Want me to use you, like my pretty fuck toy?"
"P-please, Ken- ah!" Your eyes roll back again when he slams up into you, cock pushing so deep in your slick walls, and he's holding you up like it's nothing, pounding up into you. "Too much!"
"No, you can take it can't you, darling? Be a good little toy for me, would you?" He murmurs, lips glossy, latching onto a nipple as he shoves your hips down, his tip pressing against your cervix, a scream rips from your throat as you shatter, cumming all over him then. "That's it, good girl."
You're speechless, drooling as he keeps fucking up into you, holding you like you are just a little toy, hazel eyes lidded and dilated while you weakly cling to him. You wanted to try to take him this way, but feeling him take over is just too good.
"Cum again, would you, lemme feel you. There it is, let go." Nanami talks you right into your next orgasm, until you're a weak, trembling fucking mess, but he's not done, even as he pours his hot, gooey load in your quivering walls. He has you on your back, lapping his own cum out of you, as your hands grip silky locks, hips bucking up.
"Look how much cum you're wasting, tsk." He clicks his tongue just a bit, shoving two thick fingers in your drippy hole.
"God that feels s-so good..." Your breathy whisper earns his smirk, as he watches your pretty breasts rise and fall, feels your manicured nails against his scalp.
"I told you, you just want me to do all the work." You manage a glare, but his tongue changes your mouth to a slutty O.
"Mnh! I tried to- Kento..." Your hips arch as he laps a string of that gooey white cum up, hitting your sensitive clit with his hot breath. "You just want to!"
He chuckles, looking up at your pretty body, the bruises on your waist and hips, the white cum pouring out between puffy, sore lips, nipping your inner thigh. "Maybe I do."
♡ 💜 ♡︎
I miss writing for Nanami, so I had to do a lil drabble, should write more of him!
perm tags- @alt--er--love @indiewritesxoxo @nanasukii28 @labelt-san @cuntphoric @loafteaw @n1vi @miizuzu @beachaddict48 @honeybunnnnie @re-tired-succubus @gojosukuna2268 @waterfal-ling @1brii @wise-fangirl @moncher-ire @orikixx @uhnosav @baepsays @designerpvssy @orixxxana @airandyeah @nina-from-317 @evelynxxo @naammiii @soyokosuguru @espresso1patronum @tomboy-disaster @iam-souless @lanii-i @cristy-101 @doeeyestoji @cvixmei @mutsu422 @ivyvenus333 @g00seg1rl @suki91 @naomi-main @fairygardenprincesss @estrellaexists @theonlyjuggernaut @huntyhuntycunty @lovelockdownff
#nanami smut#nanami kento smut#nanami drabbles#kento nanami x you#nanami x reader#nanami x you#nanami x y/n#kento smut#kento nanami#kento x reader#kento x you#jjk nanami#jjk smut#jjk x reader
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HOW TO MANIPULATE WIN YOUR EX BACK 101 ~ by caleb

CW: 18+ (mdni), fem & non-hunter mc, delusional yandere!caleb, pet names (baby & pipsqueak), male & female masturbation (separate), piv (in caleb’s imagination) , praise kink, panty sniffing, voyeurism (?), stalking, manipulation, gaslighting, power dynamic. WC: 9.4k AN: finally posting this after a month! comments & reblogs are highly appreciated <3
Your relationship with Caleb was brief, just a few months, but it felt suffocatingly long. You had always valued your independence, the freedom to spread your wings and fly wherever you pleased. But with him? It was like having those wings clipped, held down by invisible strings of concern, control, and possessiveness disguised as love.
At first, it was subtly sweet. The way he always wanted to know where you were, checking in constantly like he cared a little too much. The way he insisted on picking you up from work, from dinners, from places you were perfectly capable of leaving on your own.
But then it escalated.
Questions turned into interrogations. Concerns turned into restrictions. Suddenly, your phone buzzed with his messages every time you were out, and your decisions were met with disapproving looks and lectures disguised as "worry."
And it only got worse because you had no Evol, no abilities to shield you from danger, no built-in safeguard if something went wrong. To him, that made you vulnerable, fragile and in need of someone like him. But seriously though, you have managed just fine before he ever came into your life.
At first, you tolerated it, convincing yourself it was just his way of showing love. You dismissed it as a habit from his job as a colonel, structured, disciplined, and always anticipating worst-case scenarios. You told yourself it was normal, that some people love fiercely, protectively and maybe that’s true.
But love shouldn’t feel like surveillance. It shouldn’t feel like being second-guessed at every turn, like justifying your choices to someone who sees your independence as a threat instead of a strength. It shouldn’t feel like ripping your wings, like trading your freedom for someone else’s comfort.
And the moment you realized that? You knew it was over.
–
The phone buzzed in your hand, ‘Caleb ♡’ flashing across the screen for the fifth time in a row. You hesitated, exhaling slowly before finally answering.
“You’re still ignoring me?” His voice came through the speaker, tight with frustration. No hello. No softness.
You rolled your eyes, shifting the suitcase beside you. “I’m not ignoring you, Caleb. I’m busy packing.”
“For that trip,” he said flatly.
“Yes. For that trip.”
A tense silence stretched between you. Then, with a humourless laugh, he said, “So you’re really going through with this?”
You pinched the bridge of your nose, already exhausted. “Caleb, I’ve told you a hundred times—this is happening. It’s just me and the girls. It’s not a big deal.”
“But it is to me,” he snapped. “You’re leaving for an entire weekend, in Linkon City, with no one looking out for you. Do you know how dangerous that is? Especially with the Wanderers around.”
Your grip tightened on the phone. “Linkon City is perfectly safe, thanks to the Hunters, and I know how to take care of myself.”
“That’s not the point.” His voice dropped, low and insistent. “What if something happens to you? What if you need me and I’m not there?”
You let out a sharp laugh. “Caleb, something always ‘might’ happen. I could trip over my own feet walking down the street, and you’d still act like I need supervision.”
“That’s not fair.”
“No, what’s not fair is you thinking my freedom is something you have a right to control.”
Another silence. You could almost picture him now, jaw clenched, hands running through his hair in frustration. But you were past the point of softening your words to ease his temper.
“I love you,” he finally said, voice quieter now. “I just don’t want to lose you.”
Your heart clenched, but you forced yourself to stay firm. “You already did.”
Caleb drew in a breath like he was about to argue, to find the right words to pull you back, but you didn’t give him the chance. You ended the call before he could even try, letting the silence speak for itself.
She’s gone…she actually just hung up on me. Just like that?
She thinks she’s done with me? Cute. Adorable, even. She’s just confused right now. A phase. A temporary lapse in judgment. I mean, we were practically perfect together—okay, maybe not perfect, but close enough. We had a good thing. I’ll give her a few weeks or months to stew over it. She’ll come back. She just doesn’t know it yet.
She needs “freedom”? Sure. Great. Go ahead and get your little “freedom,” pipsqueak. Go on your trip with the girls and post your little Instagram stories with your cocktails and your cheesy ‘healing’ captions. I’ll pretend like I’m not paying attention to the comments or checking who’s liking every picture.
But the second she realizes that no one out there will worship the ground she walks on like I do? The second she sees that no other guy will remember every little detail about her—how she likes her tea, how she hums that one song when she’s doing the dishes but refuses to admit it’s her favourite, how she’s got a million tabs open on her browser but never actually reads anything?
She’ll come running back.
She’ll remember how good we were together. How great we were.
I will wait for you when you are ready.
–
You felt… liberated, to say the least. A weekend away with your girlfriends was just what you needed. You spent hours catching up, sharing stories, and laughing—something you hadn't realized you’d missed so much. When you told them about your breakup with Caleb, they were surprised but not entirely shocked. They knew you valued your independence too much to settle for anything less than respect, and Caleb's overbearing nature had always been a point of concern for them.
The weekend unfolded in a blissful blur of indulgence and carefree moments. You enjoyed fancy dinners, basked under the sun at the beach, and dipped your feet into the pool while losing yourself in a book. You sipped on refreshing mocktails, took silly pictures, and felt the weight of stress melt away.
At the beach, you and your friends lounged on the warm sand, indulging in playful eye-candy scouting, and a man with dusky purple hair and striking bluish-pink eyes caught your attention. He looked almost unreal, like something pulled from the pages of a fairytale. Ethereal. Enchanting. If mermaids walked on land, you were certain they’d look just like him.
Unbeknownst to you, Caleb took matters into his own hands. While you were away, he broke into your apartment—too bad your security wasn’t up to par. That’s exactly why you needed someone like him, right? His eyes roamed your personal space like it was land he wasn’t prepared to lose. He set up cameras carefully, one in the living room, another in your bedroom, and even one in the bathroom. To Caleb, letting you slip away wasn’t an option.
He’d give you the space you demanded, sure, but only on his terms. In his mind, you were still his regardless of what you thought. He convinced himself that it was his right to keep watch and to ensure your safety, with or without your consent.
–
When you returned to Skyhaven, it hit you—reality, that is. Back to your job, back to your life, and Caleb…well, Caleb wasn’t part of that anymore. You have ended things. It wasn’t easy, but it was necessary. You had expected him to bombard you with texts, but surprisingly, your phone was quiet. Too quiet.
You even posted a picture of yourself in that dress—the one that hugged your figure just right, the colours bright against your skin and the way the hibiscus in your hair caught the light. You were proud of how you looked, but when you checked your notifications, there was no comment, no like from him. A little part of you felt a pang, but you shook it off.
What you didn’t know was that Caleb had seen the picture, and it consumed him. He was furious, very furious that you dared to wear something so revealing, something that might catch the eye of someone else, without him there. If you were going to wear something like that, it should’ve been with him by your side, where he could keep an eye on you. He would’ve let you wear it, after all, he could fight anyone who dared to look too long, but without him around? It made his blood boil.
And yet, despite the frustration, his body betrayed him. The second he saw that picture, he was already half-hard. God, you guys had never even fucked. You had called it “too soon” and had wanted to take things slow, and fine—he respected that. Somewhat. But damn, you had no idea how badly you messed with him, how pent-up he always was around you.
His fist clenched as he freed himself from his sweatpants, his cock already straining. One hand gripping his phone, the other wrapped around his length, stroking slowly as he imagined it was you—your soft hands and your cunt wrapped around him instead.
His breathing turned ragged as the images flooded his mind. He pictured you beneath him, stretched wide with your voice trembling as you begged him to go slow, to be gentle. Fuck, he wanted to come, but the frustration twisted inside him, mixing with his hunger. He needed more. He needed you.
Tossing his phone aside, he got up and strode to his dresser, yanking open the drawer. And there it was, the hidden treasure—delicate and lace-trimmed, the soft fabric nestled right where he left it. Your panties.
He may or may not have swiped them when he was setting up the cameras in your apartment, but did that matter? That’s the least you could do for breaking up with him over the phone.
Sitting on the edge of his bed, he brought them to his face, inhaling deeply with his eyes fluttering shut. The scent was faint, just traces of laundry detergent and fabric softener, but he wanted more. He wanted them used, soaked in your scent, dripping in proof of how much you needed him. His fingers tightened around the fabric as he pumped his cock faster, lost in the thought of ruining you, marking you, making sure you never even considered leaving him again.
"Caleb!" Your voice cracked, high and desperate. His cock twitched at the sound.
He could almost feel it—the way your walls clenched around him, trying to force him out while greedily pulling him back in.
"St–stop!"
He chuckled darkly, leaning down, his breath hot against your ear. "Stop?" he echoed mockingly. His hand gripped your thigh, pressing your legs apart despite the way you trembled beneath him. "You’re squeezing me so tight, pips. You don’t really want me to stop, do you?"
Your nails dug into his shoulders, useless resistance. "N-no… but—"
“That’s right,” he growled, thrusting deeper, drinking in the way you choked on your own breath. "You take me so well. Like you were made for this. Made for me."
He imagined your head tilting back, lips trembling, and body writhing against the sheets, too fucked-out to fight him anymore. Your voice, once filled with hesitation, melted into helpless little whimpers.
"Too—too much, Caleb…"
“Too much?” He kissed down your throat, his teeth scraping against your pulse. "But pipsqueak, I’m just getting started."
His strokes quickened, both in reality and the vivid fantasy he was spiralling deeper into. The panties in his grasp crumpled under the force of his grip, his knuckles turning white as he pressed the fabric against his nose, desperate to drown in the ghost of your presence.
He could see it so clearly—you spreading out beneath him, legs trembling and tears glistening in your eyes. Wrecked. Shattered.
“That’s my girl. You don’t need to think, just feel. Let me take care of you.”
His hips jerked, pleasure coiling tight, winding dangerously. He imagined the final moment—your body arching, your lips parting in a silent scream as he claimed you.
A guttural groan tore from his throat as his release overtook him, thick ropes of white spilling over his abs and chest. His body shuddered, fingers twitching, and his breath was unsteady.
But as the high ebbed, a bitter frustration gnawed at him.
It wasn’t enough.
Because it wasn’t you. Not yet.
step 1: show her that youre a 'changed man'
‘coincidentally’ run into her
dress well (make sure she notices)
speak softly
give her the puppy eyes, shes always been weak for that
ask her if she wanna be friends
smile, but not too much
A few months had passed since the breakup. Life moved forward, as it always did. You missed him sometimes, small moments of nostalgia creeping in when you passed by places you once shared. But you reminded yourself why you left. Missing someone didn’t mean you belonged with them.
Caleb, however, never truly left.
He had been watching. Through the flickering screens in his dimly lit room, through the quiet hum of surveillance, he had memorised every part of your life. The way you tucked your hair behind your ear while reading, the way you curled up on the couch with your favourite mug. He studied your routine like a scripture.
And now, it was time.
He knew your new favourite café—how you liked to sit by the window, how you always ordered the same drink. So when he "accidentally" ran into you, it would feel natural.
A harmless coincidence.
"Wow, I wasn’t expecting to see you here… You look good."
Your head snapped up at the familiar voice. “Oh… hey.” Your fingers instinctively tightened around your cup before you forced yourself to relax, putting your phone down. The awkwardness between you was obvious.
He took a step closer, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket with a casual posture. “I wasn’t sure if I should say hi. I didn’t want to bother you.”
You blinked, caught off guard. This wasn’t the Caleb you remembered. He always carried himself with confidence, sometimes bordering on arrogance. But now… he seemed different. Softer.
“It’s fine,” you replied, clearing your throat. “It’s… been a while.”
“It has,” he agreed, the purple eyes you once adored scanned your face like he was memorising you all over again. “You look… happy.”
You shifted in your seat. “I am.”
A small, almost wistful smile tugged at his lips. “That’s good. That’s all I ever wanted for you.”
The words landed heavily, leaving a strange warmth in your chest—guilt? Sadness? You weren’t sure.
Before you could respond, he gestured toward the chair across from you. “Do you mind if I sit? Just for a minute. I don’t want to make things weird, I just—” He exhaled softly, shaking his head with a sheepish chuckle. “I don’t know. Seeing you here gave me whiplash.”
The hesitation in his voice, the way he seemed almost vulnerable. It made it hard to say no.
“…Yeah, okay. Just for a minute.”
He sat down, hands clasped together on the table, eyes never leaving yours.
“So,” he started, offering a small smile, “tell me, what’s new?”
"Nothing much, just work and stuff," you said, offering a shrug as you took another sip from your coffee. You felt a little uncomfortable, but you didn’t want to make it obvious. He was just sitting there, quietly watching you, like he was soaking in every detail of your response.
“Ah, yeah, I get that. Work can really take over sometimes,” he replied, nodding sympathetically. “I’ve been keeping busy too. Just… trying to focus on myself, y’know?”
You nodded, unsure of where this conversation was going. “That’s good. It’s important to focus on yourself.”
A quiet moment passed, and he cleared his throat. “I’ve been thinking a lot about… things, y’know, since we last talked. I’ve had time to reflect, and I realised I probably could’ve done a lot better. With us.” His voice softened, almost vulnerable.
You felt a strange discomfort at his words, unsure how to respond. “I—I mean… we’re good now, right?” You paused, awkwardly fidgeting with the edge of your coffee cup. “It’s all in the past.”
He tilted his head slightly, his gaze locking onto yours. There was a sincerity in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before. “Yeah, I know. I… I’ve been working on myself. I’ve changed, really. I just hope that…you’re doing okay.”
“I’m good. Really.” You forced a smile, trying to dismiss the flood of emotions that were slowly rising within you. “I’m happy. I’m in a good place.”
He nodded slowly, his lips curling into a small, almost bittersweet smile. “I’m glad. I just wanted you to know that I—” He paused, looking down at his hands, then back up at you. “I never stopped caring about you, y’know? I’ve always wanted what’s best for you.”
“Caleb…” you started, unsure how to respond, but your thoughts were jumbled. What was he saying? Was he genuinely apologising?
“I know things ended badly, but I just… I wanted you to know that I’ve learned from all of it. From my mistakes. And I’m not asking for anything, but maybe, just maybe, we could start over as friends? Take things slow…?”
You bit your lip, feeling a sudden rush of conflicting emotions. Part of you wanted to believe him, wanted to believe that he had changed, but the other part of you… was still wary. You didn’t want to repeat past mistakes.
“I don’t know,” you murmured, glancing down at your cup, unable to meet his eyes. “It’s all of a—”
“Just think about it,” he interjected gently, his tone almost pleading. “I’m not asking for much, just… a chance to show you that I’ve changed. That I’m different.”
You stared at him, trying to gauge his sincerity. For a moment, it felt like you were teetering on the edge of something you didn’t know if you were ready for. But Caleb, the version of him sitting across from you now, seemed almost like a stranger. Yet there was something familiar about his presence.
“I… I don’t know, Caleb,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I need time.”
His face softened, his eyes filled with a quiet understanding. “Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”
You swallowed, trying to keep your composure as his words sank in. “Alright, I’ll think about it.”
Caleb let out a slow breath as if he had been holding it in, his lips curling into the softest smile. But it wasn’t just the smile—it was the way his eyes rounded slightly, a flicker of vulnerability creeping into his usually confident gaze.
“Really?” His voice was just a little too hopeful, like he wasn’t expecting you to even consider it. “You’ll think about it?”
You swallowed, suddenly feeling like the bad guy for making him wait. “I didn’t say yes,” you reminded him quickly, gripping your cup a little tighter. “I just… need time like I said.”
He nodded eagerly, that soft, almost puppy-like expression still in place. “Of course. I get it. Take all the time you need.” His fingers tapped lightly against the table before he let out a breathy chuckle. “You don’t know how much that means to me.”
And just like that, the tension in your chest eased—only slightly, but enough to make you feel like maybe, maybe you had been too hard on him.
Caleb watched as you hesitated, the smallest flicker of indecision in your eyes. It was barely there, but he caught it, and inside, he was grinning. You were already bending, already second-guessing.
He pushed back his chair, standing with an effortless grace. “I should probably get going,” he said, glancing at his watch. “I didn’t mean to take up so much of your evening.”
You blinked. “Oh. Yeah, of course.”
He hesitated for just a second longer, then flashed you one last smile—the perfect mix of warmth and quiet longing. “I’ll be around,” he said, his voice soft, before making his way to the door.
As he stepped outside, the cool night air hitting his skin, he let his expression shift. His smirk pulled at the corner of his lips, triumphant. You had no idea, did you?
His plan was falling into place perfectly.
Step 1: Successful.
step 2: make her doubt herself and weaken her boundaries
highlight her ‘flaws’ even though shes already perfect
emphasise her independence a lot
buy wine and cook sweet and sour chicken with rice
stock up on apples
After the unexpected run-in with Caleb, you didn’t expect things to go anywhere, at least not like this. But somehow, things started feeling easy again between you two, like the months apart had melted away in the span of a few casual conversations. He always had that ability, didn’t he? He made everything feel natural and effortless, even though you knew it shouldn’t.
It was part of his charm, after all—the reason you’d fallen for him in the first place.
The invitation was where it all started.
“You have to let me cook for you,” he insisted, flashing that easy grin. “You always loved my cooking. Just one meal, no pressure.”
And somehow, you found yourself here again.
His penthouse hadn’t changed at all since the last time you were here—same sleek, modern design, the ambient lighting casting a soft glow over the dark furniture. The air smelled warm and familiar, a mix of spices and something distinctly Caleb. You sat at the dining table, watching him move around the kitchen like a busy housewife. The soft sizzle of sweet and sour chicken filled the air, mingling with the aroma of freshly steamed rice.
He plated the food with the same care he always did, setting it in front of you before finally taking a seat beside you instead of across from you like he used to. Close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from him.
“Go on,” he urged, nudging your spoon toward you.
You picked it up hesitantly and took a bite. The flavours burst on your tongue—sweet, tangy, and perfectly balanced. It reminded you of nights when this used to be normal. When Caleb would cook, you’d sit beside him, talking about everything and nothing.
“Still the best cook I know,” you admitted, offering a small smile.
He chuckled, nudging his knee against yours under the table. “I’ll take that as the highest compliment.”
He took a bite of his own, watching you carefully as you ate. Then, after a pause, his expression softened.
“You look tired.”
You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”
He gestured subtly toward you. “Your eyes. A little duller than usual. And you’ve been rubbing your temples since you got here.”
You forced a laugh, setting your spoon down. “I guess I’ve been busy.”
He hummed, swirling his drink in his hand. “You always push yourself too hard. You used to do the same thing when we were together, remember?”
You tensed slightly. “I’ll manage.”
“I know you will,” he said smoothly. “You always do. But that’s kind of the problem, isn’t it?”
You frowned, slightly offended. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He leaned in just a fraction, his voice dropping to something softer—something that felt too close, too knowing. “You never let yourself slow down. Even when you’re exhausted, you just push through it.” He shook his head, smiling faintly. “You used to get those headaches from working too much, and you’d act like it was nothing until I made you stop and rest.”
Your fingers curled slightly against the table.
“I used to love that about you,” he continued, voice warm, laced with nostalgia. “How stubborn you are. How much you take on without ever asking for help.”
“I don’t need help,” you said, a little too quickly.
His lips barely twitched, as if he’d expected that answer. “I know.” He leaned back slightly, taking a slow sip of his drink. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve it.”
The warmth of the room suddenly felt heavier.
You forced another small laugh, reaching for your glass. “I’m fine, Caleb.”
He smiled, but there was something knowing in his eyes. “Of course.”
The conversation drifted to safer topics after that, but the weight of his words lingered. By the time you set your spoon down, you couldn’t shake the strange unease settling in your chest.
Maybe you were pushing yourself too hard. Maybe you weren’t as fine as you thought.
Maybe… Caleb wasn’t wrong.
He didn’t miss the way your spoon hovered slightly above your plate, how your eyes drifted just a little too long, lost in thought. The confident ease you had when you first arrived had faltered, just for a second, but it was enough.
You were thinking about what he said.
A quiet satisfaction curled in his chest, but he didn’t press. Instead, he let out a soft chuckle, nudging your knee again. “I didn’t mean to kill the mood,” he said lightly. “You got really quiet on me.”
You blinked, snapping out of your thoughts. “Oh—sorry. I was just…thinking, I guess.”
His lips twitched. Perfect.
He tilted his head slightly, resting his chin against his hand. “Heavy thoughts?”
You hesitated, then shrugged, forcing a small smile. “Maybe…I have been overworking myself a little.”
That was all he needed.
His expression softened, the perfect mix of concern and understanding. “See? That’s all I meant. I worry that’s all.” He exhaled, leaning back slightly. “You give so much of yourself to everything you do, but who’s making sure you don’t burn out?”
You opened your mouth, then closed it. You had friends, of course. People who cared. But… no one really checked in on you like that. Not in the way Caleb always had.
You shook your head as if physically trying to push the thought away. “I’ll manage,” you repeated.
Caleb let a small, knowing smile creep onto his lips before setting his drink down.
Not for long.
A beat of silence settled before he suddenly stood, stretching slightly. “Why don’t I cut us some apples?” he said, already moving toward the kitchen. “I bought some fresh ones this morning. You’ll love them.”
You blinked at the sudden shift in topic. “Oh—um, you don’t have to.”
He glanced at you over his shoulder. “I want to.” His lips curved as he reached for a knife. “Besides, they say an apple a day keeps the doctor away, right?”
You scoffed, shaking your head. “You’re such a goof.”
Caleb smirked but didn’t respond as he started slicing. The rhythmic thunk of the blade against the cutting board filled the space, and you watched as he didn’t just cut the apples into simple wedges, he carved them into small bunny shapes.
Your brows lifted. “Are you seriously making bunny apples right now?”
He smirked, carefully peeling back the “ears” of one of the slices. “Obviously. What, you think I’d just give you a boring apple slice?”
You leaned forward slightly, intrigued despite yourself. “Since when do you know how to do that?”
Caleb shot you a knowing look as he set another bunny slice onto the plate. “I have my secrets.”
“That’s not an answer.”
He chuckled, finally returning to his seat beside you with the plate, setting it down between you both. The little apple bunnies were lined up neatly, their tiny “ears” perked up as if they were waiting to be eaten.
You stared at them, then at him. “I hate that this is actually kinda impressive.”
He grinned, picking one up for himself. “I accept your reluctant admiration.”
You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips as you picked up an apple bunny and took a bite. It was crisp, sweet, and frustratingly perfect.
“See?” Caleb murmured, watching you with quiet satisfaction. “Worth the effort, right?”
You swallowed, shaking your head. “You’re so weird.”
“And yet, here you are,” he teased, nudging his knee against yours again. “Still eating my expertly crafted bunny apples.”
You huffed but didn’t argue. The playful exchange had lightened the air between you, momentarily softening your earlier hesitations.
And Caleb, watching the way your guard lowered just a little more, couldn’t help but smile.
Step 2? Already working.
step 3: make her depend on you
catch her lacking
secretly send the gym voucher in her mail
act natural
comfort her when she vents
touch her and stay close to her
It had been a week since Caleb’s words lodged themselves in your mind like an unwelcome guest. You give so much and don’t feel appreciated enough. You had brushed it off at the time, but the thought had lingered, creeping back in at moments you least expected.
That was probably why you were here now, in a gym of all places, desperate to burn off the frustration bubbling inside you, to drown out the noise in your head while your feet pounded against the treadmill.
Still, the fact that you ended up here felt like a weird coincidence. A few days ago, you received a gym voucher in the mail—an exclusive trial membership with an almost suspiciously good discount. You weren’t even sure how it ended up in your mailbox. You had never been the gym type, and you certainly hadn’t signed up for anything like this. But it was affordable, and after the week you had, it felt like a sign from the universe. (It wasn’t. It was Caleb)
Work had been exhausting. Again. Your boss barely acknowledged your input, and one particular smug bastard had conveniently taken full credit for your idea, flashing that self-satisfied grin like he’d done all the work.
The more you thought about it, the angrier you got. Your fingers hovered over the treadmill’s controls before you cranked up the speed. If only you could just run him over with a car and—
“Didn’t expect to see you here.”
The familiar voice cut through the gym’s ambient noise, and for a second, your fingers twitched against the treadmill’s handles.
You turned your head, already bracing yourself and oh my god.
Caleb stood beside you, effortlessly leaning against the treadmill next to yours, a towel slung lazily around his neck, a water bottle in one hand. The athletic shorts highlighted the muscles in his legs, and his white workout shirt clung to his chest in a way that made you way too aware of how well he filled it out. The faint sheen of sweat on his skin told you he had been here for a while.
You forced yourself to look away. “Yeah, well… needed to clear my head.” You coughed, willing your pulse to settle.
He raised an eyebrow as he stepped onto the treadmill beside you, setting his pace to a casual jog. “Didn’t realize you went to the gym.”
You let out a short breath, still jogging. “Is that an insult?”
A smirk tugged at his lips. “Not at all. Just… surprised.” His eyes flicked toward your treadmill screen, tracking your speed. “Didn’t peg you as the intense type.”
You scoffed, wiping a stray strand of hair from your face. “Well, maybe you’re not the only one who’s changed.”
He hummed, his expression unreadable. “Maybe.”
He didn’t need to say more. The seed was already planted.
Caleb kept pace beside you, his breathing even and movements effortless. It was infuriating how easily he made it look like he wasn’t even trying. Meanwhile, you were actively fighting the urge to focus on the burning in your legs, determined not to let him see you struggle.
“So,” he started, voice smooth and casual, “bad day at work?”
You exhaled sharply. “Something like that.”
“Let me guess,” he mused, glancing at you. “Your boss ignored your input again, and some asshole took credit for your idea?”
Your steps faltered just slightly before you caught yourself. “How—”
Caleb let out a chuckle. “You always get this look when you’re pissed about work. It’s subtle, but I’ve seen it before.”
You frowned, not sure whether to be annoyed or impressed. “Right. Forgot you were a human lie detector or whatever.”
“Not a lie detector,” he corrected, his smirk deepening. “Just really good at reading you.”
The worst part? He wasn’t wrong. Caleb had always known how to read you, sometimes even before you could fully process your own emotions. He had a way of catching onto things, of noticing the smallest shifts in your mood. It used to be comforting. Now, it felt a little dangerous.
You swallowed, fixing your gaze ahead. “Well, it’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“Of course,” he said easily. “You’re strong. Always have been.”
The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, throwing off your rhythm for half a second. You recovered quickly, but not before Caleb noticed.
His smirk softened. “But even strong people get tired.”
Your grip tightened on the treadmill handles. Damn it. You hated how easily his words seeped under your skin, how they poked at the very thing you’d been trying to suppress all day.
“So what?” you said, forcing a lightness into your tone. “You think I need a pep talk?”
Caleb’s eyes never left you. “I think you need a reminder that you don’t have to carry everything on your own.”
Your breath hitched.
For a moment, you didn’t respond, focusing on the rhythmic pounding of your feet against the treadmill. It was easier than acknowledging the warmth creeping up your spine, the way his words sat heavy in your chest.
This was exactly what you didn’t need.
The problem with Caleb was that he made things sound so simple. He made it so easy to forget why you left, why you needed space. He said the right things, knew which buttons to press, and worst of all, he still made you feel.
And that? That was a risk you weren’t sure you could afford.
You let out a breath, slowing your pace slightly. “Well, thanks for the unsolicited wisdom, Dr. Phil.”
Caleb chuckled, shaking his head. “Anytime.”
A silence settled between you, not quite uncomfortable but charged with something you refuse to acknowledge.
Caleb then stretched his arms and rolled his shoulders. “Y’know, since you’re new here, I could show you around. Make sure you don’t, I don’t know, drop a weight on your foot or something.”
You shot him a dry look. “Wow, so much faith in me.”
“Just looking out for you,” he said, that damn smirk back in place. “Like I always have.”
And there it was again—that reminder. That thread of familiarity, of us, woven so seamlessly into his words.
You hesitated. Just for a second.
And Caleb saw it, felt it.
He wasn’t in a rush. This was all part of the game.
So when you finally sighed and mumbled, “Fine. But no unsolicited advice,” he just grinned.
Step 3 was right on track.
–
You come back from the gym feeling drained and your muscles aching. Caleb had taken it upon himself to train you after the tour, just the basics, he said, nothing too serious, he said. But the way his hands lingered, the way his voice dropped lower every time he corrected your form, sent a slow-burning heat through you that had nothing to do with exercise.
"You’re tensing up too much. Relax…there you go."
You dragged a hand through your hair, exhaling. It was just adrenaline.
But when you closed your eyes, all you could think about was the way his fingers skimmed your sides, the quiet hum of his approval when you finally got the movement right. The way his eyes had looked at you.
"Good girl. Just like that."
Fuck it.
Now, alone in your bedroom, you collapsed onto your bed, chest rising and falling, but the tension in your body hadn’t faded. If anything, it had settled deep, persistent, and impossible to ignore.
You dragged your gym shirt over your head, tossing it aside, but the heat clinging to your skin didn’t dissipate. Your body still burned with something you refused to name, something that pulsed between your thighs with every replayed memory of his touch.
Your hand trailed up, fingers skimming over your sports bra and squeezing the swell of your breast. A small sigh escaped you as your other hand slid lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your shorts. The moment your fingers brushed against your clit, a soft gasp left your lips.
Your body was already so sensitive, so needy, and the more you teased yourself, the worse it got. Every stroke sent another wave of heat pooling in your belly, and in your mind, it wasn’t your own fingers—it was his.
You could almost hear him. That low, amused chuckle, the way his breath would fan against your ear as he murmured, "Look at you, already so desperate for me."
You kicked off your shorts and underwear, your movements impatient, your body aching for more. Reaching for a pillow, you slid it between your thighs, pressing down as you began to move, grinding against it, and each roll of your hips sending sharp pleasure through you.
Your back arched as you picked up the pace, riding the pillow as if it were his cock, panting softly as you clutched at your breasts, pinching your nipples. Your mind painted the image so vividly, Caleb beneath you, his hands gripping your hips, watching you fall apart on top of him.
"That’s it, baby. Just like that."
A needy whimper escaped your lips as you buried your face into the sheets, fingers tugging at your hardened nipples, pretending it was his mouth teasing you, his tongue flicking and sucking until you were squirming.
Meanwhile, across Skyhaven.
Caleb ran a towel through his damp hair as he stepped out of the bathroom, steam curling around him. The gym session had gone even better than he planned. He could see it, the way your breath hitched, the way your body tensed under his hands. You were already slipping, already wavering. He also made a mental note about that bastard at your workplace, promising himself he’d handle him soon. But for now, he needed to clear his head.
With a sigh, he tossed the towel over his shoulder, water droplets rolling down his chest as he made his way through the penthouse. He hadn’t even planned on stopping by his office, just a quick glance at the screens, a habit more than anything.
But then he saw it.
His feet stilled at the doorway, his gaze locking onto the upper-right monitor. His office, lined with walls of screens, glowed softly in the dim lighting. Each feed displayed different angles of your apartment, and on one particular screen made his breath hitch.
There you were, back in your bedroom, stripped down, thighs straddling a pillow as you rocked against it, your brows furrowed in desperate pleasure.
Caleb's grip on the towel tightened, his body instantly reacting.
"Caleb…"
His restraint snapped.
His hand palmed over the towel, groaning low in his throat. Fuck. You were thinking about him. Even when he wasn’t touching you, even when he was taking his time, you still belonged to him.
Looks like he could skip Step 4. It was time for the final move.
final step: coaxing her back
You wanted to slap yourself. Who in their right mind gets off thinking about their ex?
Yet, no matter how much you tried to push the thought away, Caleb had begun to crawl into every corner of your mind. It was like a spell had been cast, wrapping around you and pulling you under.
The night had started with rain, thick sheets of it pouring down as you walked home, the soft patter against your umbrella the only sound accompanying you. You kicked at the puddles absently, trying to focus on anything other than the memories clawing their way back to the surface.
Then, headlights cut through the downpour. A sleek black Lamborghini Lanzador slowed beside you, its engine a deep and familiar purr. The passenger window rolled down, revealing Caleb behind the wheel—one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting against his temple as he watched you with a mix of amusement and exasperation.
“You seriously weren’t going to call me for a ride?” His voice was warm and teasing.
You hesitated. “I didn’t think—”
“You didn’t think,” he echoed, shaking his head before unlocking the door. “Get in before you drown, pipsqueak.”
You scowled, shutting your umbrella with a sharp snap before getting in. “I hate it when you call me that.”
He only smirked.
The door clicked shut behind you, and before you even finished buckling your seatbelt, Caleb pulled back onto the road. The rain drummed softly against the windows, the warmth inside the car doing little to ease the tension winding tight in your chest.
“Seriously, stop calling me that,” you muttered, arms crossed.
Caleb glanced at you, the corners of his lips twitching. “What? Pipsqueak?”
Your jaw clenched. “Yes, that.”
He chuckled, effortlessly changing gears. “Why does it bother you so much?”
“Because it’s condescending,” you shot back. “Like I’m some kid.”
He smirked. “I don’t think you’re a kid.”
“Then why do you insist on calling me that?”
“Because it gets under your skin,” he admitted without hesitation. “And because you make the cutest face when you’re annoyed.”
You glared. “You are insufferable.”
“And yet, you’re still here.”
You opened your mouth, ready to fire back, but… you had nothing. He wasn’t wrong. You were here. Despite every reason you had to keep your distance, despite all the time and space and unspoken things lingering between you, you still got into his car.
Caleb must have sensed the shift in your silence because his smirk faded, replaced by something quieter, something almost hesitant.
“I mean it, though,” he said, his voice softer. “I don’t call you that to belittle you.”
You turned your head, studying his face, searching for the usual mischief—but there was none.
“Then why?” you asked, wary.
His fingers tightened briefly around the steering wheel before he exhaled. “Because it reminds me of before.”
Your stomach twisted.
Before.
Your frustration boiled over, heat rising to your cheeks. Without thinking, you reached for the door handle, fingers wrapping around it with the full intention of getting out—moving car be damned.
Caleb’s sharp gaze flicked to you instantly. “Don’t even think about it.”
You shot him a look, jaw tight. “Then stop the car.”
He didn’t. Instead, he pressed a button on the console, and with a soft click, the doors locked.
You froze, snapping your head toward him. “Are you serious?”
He exhaled through his nose, eyes back on the road. “Dead serious.”
Your jaw clenched. “Let me out.”
“Not when we’re going 60 on a wet road.”
You huffed, shifting in your seat, nails digging into your palms. “Unbelievable.”
Caleb sighed, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
The rest of the drive passed in tense silence.
Then, instead of pulling up to your place, Caleb eased the car to a stop in front of a café. You blinked, frowning as you looked out the window. The familiar glow of the storefront sign illuminated the street, reflecting off the slick pavement.
Your fingers tightened around the door handle before you turned to him.
“Why are we here?”
Caleb leaned back, stretching out like he had all the time in the world. “What do you mean?”
You shot him a look. “You picked me up in the rain. I thought you were taking me home.”
His smirk returned. “I was. Then I figured we could use a detour.”
“A detour?” You exhaled sharply, shaking your head. “Caleb, it’s late. And I’m tired.”
His smirk didn’t waver, but something softened in his gaze. “I know. But it’s been a while since we did this.”
You hesitated. The café was familiar—your spot, our spot, once. You hadn’t been back since everything ended.
“You could’ve just taken me home,” you murmured.
“I could have,” he admitted, tilting his head slightly. “But you would’ve shut the door in my face the second we got there.”
Your jaw tightened. “…You don’t know that.”
He arched his brow. “I do.”
You wanted to argue. You really did. But the truth of it settled uncomfortably in your chest. He did know you. Even after everything. And worse, you knew he was probably right.
Caleb studied you for a beat before his expression softened further. “The coffee’s on me,” he added lightly. “You can even get any pastry you like.”
The rain had softened to a steady drizzle by the time Caleb shut off the engine.
You stared at the café through the windshield, its warm glow spilling onto the wet pavement.
This was a mistake.
You should’ve said no. Should’ve insisted he take you home, unbuckled your seatbelt, and walked away without looking back.
Yet, you sat there, gripping your sleeve, hesitating.
Caleb sighed, then suddenly leaned over, reaching past you.
You tensed. “What are you—”
The click of your door unlocking cut you off, and before you could react, Caleb was stepping out into the rain. Your brows furrowed. Was he just going to walk around and open the door for you?
But then he lifted his hand.
The air around you shifted, and a barely visible barrier shimmered to life above the car. The rain that had been pouring relentlessly now slid off an invisible shield, leaving you completely untouched.
You blinked before scoffing. “Must be nice having an Evol.”
Caleb smirked, opening your door. “Jealous?”
“A little,” you admitted, stepping out carefully, the space between you suddenly feeling too small. “Would’ve saved me from carrying an umbrella everywhere.”
He let out a low chuckle. “Or from getting caught in the rain in the first place.”
You rolled your eyes but didn’t comment. The sidewalk was slick, puddles reflecting the glow of streetlights. The air smelled like damp pavement and coffee, the warmth of the café just a few steps away.
When you guys reached the entrance, Caleb lowered his hand, and the shield dissolved like it had never been there. He pulled open the door and gestured for you to step inside.
You hesitated for only a second before walking past him, the scent of coffee and nostalgia wrapping around you like a ghost.
“Guess not much has changed.”
Your throat tightened. “No.”
The barista, Lily, behind the counter, looked up, recognition flashing across her face. She hadn’t seen you in months—not since everything ended—but she still remembered.
“Hey,” she greeted with a small smile. “It’s been a while.”
Caleb smirked. “Yeah. Thought I’d bring her back.”
Something about the way he said it made your stomach twist, but you ignored it, turning your attention to the menu overhead, as if you didn’t already know what you wanted.
Caleb leaned in slightly. “Still take it the same way?”
You shot him a look. “Why do you care?”
His lips twitched. “Humor me.”
You rolled your eyes. “Yeah.”
Caleb turned to the barista. “Two of those, and she’ll also take…” He looked at you expectantly.
You sighed. “A blueberry scone.”
He smirked. “She’ll take a blueberry scone.”
The barista rang up the order, and before you could reach for your wallet, Caleb was already sliding his card into the reader.
You narrowed your eyes. “I could’ve paid.”
“I know.” He grabbed the receipt. “But I said it was on me.”
You huffed but didn’t push further, taking the coffee when he handed it to you.
The café wasn’t crowded, just a few people scattered at tables, lost in their own conversations. It would’ve been so easy to pretend this was just another night, just another casual outing—
But it wasn’t.
Caleb nudged your arm, pulling you from your thoughts. “Come on.”
He led you to a table in the corner. Your table.
The moment you sat down, an uneasy weight settled in your chest. You traced the rim of your coffee cup, the steam curling between you. Across from you, Caleb leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming lazily against the table.
“You’re quiet,” he noted.
You met his gaze. “I have nothing to say.”
His lips twitched. “That’s a first.”
You rolled your eyes and took a sip of your coffee, letting the warmth ground you. But it didn’t stop the thoughts circling your mind.
Why did he bring you here?
Why now?
Why does it still feel easy with him?
“You’re thinking too much.”
Your fingers stilled around your coffee cup. “And you’re still assuming you know what I’m thinking.”
He smirked. “I don’t assume. I know.”
You scoffed, leaning back against your chair. “Enlighten me, then.”
He tilted his head slightly, studying you the way he always had—like he was peeling back layers, reading between every breath, every hesitation. “You’re trying to figure out why we’re here. Why I didn’t just take you home.”
Your grip on the cup tightened.
Caleb took a sip of his coffee, watching you over the rim. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
You exhaled sharply, placing your cup down a little too firmly. “You don’t get to do that.”
“Do what?”
“Sit there all smug like you still know me.”
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Do I not?”
You hesitated.
He was baiting you, as he always did. And the worst part? He was right. He did know you. Knew you well enough to bring you here, to order your drink exactly the way you liked it, to pick up on your hesitation before you even voiced it.
And yet, that only frustrated you more.
You sighed, rubbing your temple. “You should’ve just taken me home.”
Caleb hummed, taking another sip of his coffee before setting it down. “I know.” He leaned back, eyes never leaving yours. “But I wanted to talk to you first.”
Your stomach twisted.
There it was.
The thing you had been waiting for—the reason you were here.
You swallowed. “About what?”
His gaze softened just slightly, the amusement in his eyes giving way to something quieter.
“You.” His voice was steady, deliberate. “Me.”
Your fingers curled around your cup. Careful.
Caleb didn’t look away. “Whatever this is—whatever it’s always been.”
Your breath hitched. You let out a quiet scoff, breaking eye contact. “There’s nothing anymore.”
He was silent for a moment, just watching you. Then, as if weighing his words, he exhaled. “Do you really believe that?”
You didn’t answer right away.
“I have to,” you finally said, voice quieter now.
His jaw ticked, but he didn’t push. Instead, he leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the table. “Then why are you here?”
You stiffened. “You brought me here.”
He shook his head once. “You could’ve said no.”
Your gaze snapped to his. “You make it sound like I had a choice.”
His lips curved slightly, though there was no amusement behind them. “You always have a choice.”
The weight of his words settled between you, thick and suffocating. The café buzzed with quiet chatter around you, but none of it reached your ears.
Finally, you inhaled sharply. “What do you want from me, Caleb?”
His fingers tapped absently against his cup as if considering his answer. But when he finally spoke, it was quiet. Certain.
“I want you to come back.”
Your breath stalled.
A dry laugh escaped you. “Back? Back to what, exactly?”
He didn’t hesitate. “To me.”
You let out a sharp breath, shaking your head. “You can’t just say that like it’s simple.”
“I never said it was simple,” he admitted. “But it’s the truth.”
You looked away, pulse hammering in your throat. “It’s too late.”
He tilted his head slightly, studying you. “Is it?”
You hated the way he said it—like he already knew the answer. Like he could see right through every flimsy excuse you were trying to hold onto.
Your fingers tightened around your cup. “You don’t get to show up and expect everything to go back to the way it was.”
His voice was steady. “That’s not what I expect.”
You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “Then what do you expect?”
A pause.
“I expect you to be honest with yourself.”
You hated the way your stomach twisted at his words. The way something deep inside you lurched forward despite every wall you had built.
You exhaled, shaking your head. “This is a mistake.”
Caleb held your gaze. “Maybe. But it’s ours to make.”
Your heart slammed against your ribs. You could feel it—the pull, the weight of something inevitable pressing down on you. Every logical part of you screamed to shut this down.
But it was already too late, wasn’t it?
Your grip on the cup loosened, your resolve crumbling piece by piece. Then, finally, exhaustedly, you sighed.
“…Fine.”
Caleb didn’t rush it.
He let the silence settle, let the weight of your surrender sink in. The moment you said “Fine,” he knew it was over—you had already lost, even if you didn’t realize it yet.
Leaning back in his chair, he took his time, watching you with that same knowing look, fingers drumming lazily against his coffee cup. You were trying so hard to act unaffected, eyes locked on the table, but your grip on the ceramic was tense.
You were waiting—for what, exactly? The regret? The anger? The second thoughts?
None of it came.
Caleb exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. You always made this harder than it needed to be.
Without another word, he pushed back his chair, the legs scraping softly against the floor. Your shoulders tensed as he stood, rounding the table with slow, deliberate steps.
Not stopping. Not hesitating.
He moved in, closing the space between you, his presence overwhelming as he braced one hand on the back of your chair, the other resting against the table. His body caged you in, shielding you from the rest of the café, from the world beyond this moment.
You sucked in a sharp breath.
Trapped.
His scent washed over you, pulling you under like a riptide. The heat of him, the sheer certainty in his movements, sent your pulse into chaos.
“Say it again,” he murmured, voice low, dangerous.
Your brows furrowed. “What?”
“That you’re staying.”
You swallowed hard, every instinct screaming at you to push him away. To fight.
But you didn’t.
Your lips parted, barely forming his name. “Caleb—”
That was all he needed.
His fingers brushed along your jaw before tilting your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. His touch was slow and deliberate, but there was nothing soft about it. His grip was firm, possessive.
Like he was claiming you.
“You don’t regret this,” he murmured, the words barely a whisper, right before his lips crashed against yours.
It wasn’t tentative. It wasn’t careful.
It was deep, demanding—a possession.
Caleb kissed you like he was proving something, like he was erasing every ounce of distance you had tried to put between you. His lips moved against yours with precision, drawing you in and breaking down every last barrier you had left.
Then his tongue slid past your lips, coaxing, teasing, taking.
The taste of coffee and something purely him flooded your senses, dizzying and intoxicating. He was relentless, tilting his head to deepen the kiss, drawing out a soft gasp that he swallowed like he owned it.
His fingers tangled in your hair, tugging just enough to make you feel it to remind you that there was no escaping this, no running from him or this pull.
And you—God, you kissed him back.
It was your undoing.
Your fingers curled into his hoodie, gripping it tight, like he was the only thing keeping you grounded. His other hand slid to the nape of your neck, holding you there, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.
The café, the hushed conversations, the rest of the world—gone.
There was no fight left in you. No walls.
Only him. Only Caleb.
When he finally pulled back, lips barely brushing against yours, his breath was uneven, his voice thick with something raw, unspoken.
“Knew you wouldn’t leave.”
Your chest rose and fell rapidly, lips parted, breath stolen.
And then he saw it.
That flicker in your expression—not defiance, not reluctance.
Surrender.
Your grip on his hoodie loosened slightly, but you didn’t push him away. Your lashes fluttered, your gaze flickering to his lips for just a second too long, and that was all the confirmation he needed.
Caleb’s smirk returned, slow and knowing. His thumb traced along your jaw, a silent I won.
Because he had.
Checkmate.
#꒰ა 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘴 .ᐟ#caleb x reader#lads caleb#lnds caleb#caleb smut#love and deepspace fic#love and deepspace caleb#love and deepspace smut#yandere caleb#lads x reader#lnds x reader
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Some dcmk fic recs
(mostly gen or canon pairings)
The Little Detective by HikariAA: aka the better version of detective conan (and mk) despite this being an AU where Shinichi and Conan are brothers (over 1.2 MILLION words and still getting updates, currently around episode 800)
Shenanigans in Beika by SadisticWoof: chatfic, hilarious and very addictive (150k)
The Case of The Hidden Epidemic by MirrorandImage: a classic from 2009, a really good case fic with identity reveal (complete, 90k)
Dualisms by sylph_feather: Conan is fae. He's deeply in denial about it (86k)
When Pandora's Box Is Opened by Mangaluva: also a classic from 2009, detco + mk ending written pre Bourbon which is pretty neat (complete, 240k)
Red Tinted Night by PhantomWriter1412: Kaito becomes Pandora's vessel (80k)
Secrets in Indigo by Sinnatious: Kaito discovers he already is Pandora (complete, 24k)
SHOCKING- the KID Killer's true identity revealed! by glowingGalaxies: title is self-explanatory (complete, 28k)
Facing Nightmares by PaintInTheBrain: Kid let's himself get caught bc his loved ones are being threatened (complete, 55k)
Magic User's Club by Kyogre: Kaito discovers, much to his chagrin, that he can use real magic (complete, 107k)
The 25-Year Case by glowingGalaxies: Conan notices that the timeline doesn't make any sense (complete, 15k)
All Night Gang by deductionfreak: mostly slice of life series where Ran and Kazuha find out Conan's identity (complete, 48k)
more recs under the cut:
Ditto by schrodingers__cat: case fic where a magic consultant is needed (complete, 22k)
Shark Meets Dolphin by tearlessNevermore: identity reveal but with Ran and Ai, akai siblings are also there (complete, 42k)
Case Disclosed by Bacardi_Luna: Characters watching the show fic, not very far along but really well written (67k)
For Love Of Aoko by Lisa_Telramor: ekoda polycule, my beloved (complete, 13k)
True Colours by Misty_Reeyus: series, ekoda polycule with actual magic kaito plot development (complete, 53k)
Truths and Consequences by TheYsabet: series, if Shinichi can't come to Ran, Ran is going to come to him (about 1 million words and still ongoing)
Double Dose by The_Faceless_Lich: Ran gets shrunk too (very slow paced but getting updates fairly frequently, 320k)
strung along by brawltogethernow: scenes from a red string of fate AU (15k)
O Sharon, Sharon, wherefore art thou Vermouth? by Virgola: kir/vermouth, technically part 2 of a series (complete, 65k)
How to Be a Double Agent 101 by scratchienails: NOC shenanigans, fucking hilarious (13k, desperately hoping for the final chapter, @scritch-scratches please please i'm begging you)
One for sorrow two for joy by Dissenter: Kaito and Aoko are interchangeable, codependent, and both Kid (complete, 40k)
The Game of Life (Moon Magician in the Night) by OnceABlueMoon: inspired by the one above but with the parents in a polycule (complete, 5k)
Once and For All by Misty_Reeyus: post-canon, Detective Boys find out about Shinichi and Ai (complete, 2k)
Final decision by Angelle_wings: Ai's decision about taking the antidote (complete, 3k)
meetings at poirot by Oxalisalis: akam try not to kill each other, very evocative language, fucking hilarious (complete, 5k)
Also, shoutout to @tangentiallly for contributing around 2.5% of english detective conan fanfics on ao3, completely shaping my view on the BO
And some stuff from ffn:
Sgamer82 for Ai-centric oneshots
What was Right is Wrong: Kaiao, complete, 17k
Confused Partridge: Ekoda gang, complete, 7k
Mr Barista: Kaito & Bourbon, complete, 7k
Two-faced, Half-faced: Kaito & Subaru, complete, 5k
Reverse: Aoko-centric, 36k
Cherry Red Flight: SIOC in the akai family, 47k
#dcmk#detective conan#fanfiction#fanfic rec#recommendations#these are just the ones that i had bookmarked or still opened or downloaded#there're so many more great ones#dont mind all the tags->#conan edogawa#shinichi kudo#haibara ai#ran mouri#akai family#sonoko suzuki#magic kaito#kuroba kaito#aoko nakamori#hakuba saguru#akako koizumi#ekoda gang#hondou hidemi#shinran#hattori heiji#kazuha toyama#detective boys#sera masumi#akai shuichi#sato miwako#takagi wataru#i read all of these within the last 4 months lol
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ANOTHER PROMPT
Pre established relationship yandere X (who lin ling knew from his civilian identity) vs Lin ling's guide to becoming an emotional support civilian yandere Nice
And they fight over lin ling or smth 😋😋😋
Sincerely your moot, Kira
[YANDERE X] x [LIN LING] x [YANDERE NICE]
Author’s note: This is an AU (somewhat) of this and this. Thank you @kiraisrika for the request! I hope you guys enjoy this!
.
.
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Nice was having, and pardon his language, a nice day. He just got back from a relatively short photo shoot and was on his way to surprise Lin Ling, who had to step out to use the bathroom. But, as he rounded the corner, his smile dropped in shock as he spotted the blandest, most boring man he had ever seen cornering his Lin Ling. Ling Ling’s back was pressed up against the wall, and all he saw was red.
Yanking the man off of him, he smirks in satisfaction as he sees him land on his ass with an oof. Taking his rightful place next to Lin Ling, he was just about to start leading him back to set when he felt something hit the side of his head. It was a gold coin. Oh, it is on, he thinks, staring daggers at the man who was blinking innocently back at him. He was about to say something when he felt Lin Ling's hand dunking his head down. Hissing his name in reprimand, Lin Ling turns back to the man and offers him his hand. (The man is perfectly capable of getting up on his own; he’s going to dirty Lin Ling’s hand.)
Lin Ling tried to apologize to him (for what? All he did was make sure this creep didn’t dirty Lin Ling.) When Nice cuts him off. He demanded to know who the hell he was and to quickly state his business with Lin Ling (so he could leave faster). His anger boiled when he heard that, apparently, Lin Ling and the man were friends (yeah, right), and that they first met at a company collaboration. "The celebration party was so fun," The man said, snaking his hand onto Lin Ling's waist (!!!). "You drank a lot, though, so I’m not surprised you don’t remember." The man deliberated, looked up, and shot Nice the smuggest look he has ever seen (he wants to punch it). "You were so sloppy, I just had to take care of you, of course~" Oh, this fucker—
Nice immediately yanked Lin Ling back to his side and began speedwalking back to the set. But, like the nosy asshole he is, the man matches his stride, looking like he’s going on some morning stroll. "Don’t you have somewhere else to be?" The man grins, "Not at all. I have all the time in the world for Lin Ling and his friend." (Lin Ling had to pull Nice back before he pummeled that guy and his smug grin off the face of the earth.)
After that encounter, Nice swore that guy popped up like weeds everywhere. At 6 pm on the dot, he would show up like a persistent fly to hover over Lin Ling and annoy the shit out of Nice. No matter what he did or how many strings he pulled, nothing he did stuck, and he would come back at 6 am with that annoying smirk, like he knew what Nice was trying to pull and was amused by it all. (They weren’t alone most of the time, courtesy of Lin Ling, but the few times they were left to their own devices, it always devolved into a fistfight and more cough, cough.)
(Lin Ling was very confused when Moon sent back links to ‘How to train your dogs 101’ and dog leashes after he ranted to her about the whole situation.)
#to be hero x#tbhx#to be hero x nice#to be hero x Lin Ling#tbhx nice#tbhx lin ling#Yandere Nice#Yandere to be hero x Nice#Yandere tbhx nice#Nicest#Nice x Lin Ling#niceling#to be hero x X#tbhx x#X x Lin Ling#Xling#Yandere to be hero x X#Yandere TBHX X#Yandere X#XNiceLing#?
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Weapon info from the Art of Splatoon 3, pages 97-109
There's more concept art for weapons in the book not shown in this post, but these are all the weapons that included descriptions. Translations under the cut:
Page 97 Splattershot Nova With long range, rapid-fire capabilities A new weapon by the manufacturer that developed the Splattershot and Splattershot Pro. This manufacturer is well known for its intense internal rivalry and competition, as multiple development projects are underway at the same time. This is also the source of the many weapon variants produced by this manufacturer. Page 100 Big Swig Roller Lightweight, mobile, and easy to handle Development was underway for a roller that could spread ink over a wide area, but it was difficult to strike a balance between weight and maneuverability. One day, the head developer's child was seen playing enthusiastically with straws and toys from a fast food restaurant, and the design was drastically changed. Lightweight materials and elastic straws were used to achieve both the desired weight and the wide spread. Page 101 Snipewriter 5H Capable of firing up to five times in rapid succession
This weapon gets loaded with hardened ink lead that can be fired off in rapid succession. In the construction of other pen-shaped weapons, the mechanisms for ink compression and firing take up much of the space, but this weapon lacks an ink compressor, allowing it to be equipped with a mechanism for rapid fire.
Page 104 Tri-Stringer Frozen ink that explodes at the point of impact This new kind of weapon was developed by a manufacturer that specializes in fishing equipment. The weapon is packed with unique tech, including strings with the strength and pliability of fishing line, and an ink freezing mechanism that's the same as what's used to rapidly freeze fish. Despite this weapon being full of intricate mechanisms, it's built to withstand the harsh environment of the Splatlands. Splatana Wiper A katana-inspired weapon
The speed of this Splatana's slashes is thanks to its lightweight frame and a durable, flexible shaft. It's popular among the youth who want to look stylish in both battle and fashion with a dashing slash. By swapping out the sponge, it can also be used as a cleaning tool.
Page 105 Angle Shooter Touching the line of ink is dangerous
A new Angle Shooter needs to be shaken several times before use, as the ink needs to get properly soaked into the marker's core. Accidents occasionally happen when it's shaken up too much, the ink splashes out and causes the marker to go everywhere. Many don't like the sound of the line being drawn. Page 106 Tacticooler Take a sip and feel refreshed and powered up
This special weapon was developed by a drink manufacturer that is also an official Turf War sponsor. The drinks that are deployed logo-side outward. This energy-giving drink is available all over the world, but the ones sold in the Splatlands are said to use different ingredients.
Page 109 Wave Breaker Damages opponents and tracks their location
A high-tech device that sends and receives active sonar, and shares that information to all players at once. It was developed by repurposing technology used to locate buried treasure in the Splatlands. The sphere contains a cooling mechanism to ensure the stability of the precision instruments, and is cool to the touch. Getting caught by the sonar will make one's head ring.
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What are your thoughts on Ratio as a teacher? I want to say that he's not as much of a demon in the classroom as some ppl interpret him as but also I'm not sure if I'm not making him too nice
i'm sure ratio's "3% pass rate" is just a number arbitrarily picked to make him sound super strict, the same way earning 8 doctorates at the age of [vague anime adult] isn't meant to make real world sense, but my favorite pastime is overthinking anime and video game logic so:
we know ratio got into university when he was still in highschool. let's just say he didn't bother with a bachelor's and went straight for doctorates from the start. doctorates normally take a long time to earn, but he's clearly not meant to be as old as welt looks; he's in his 30s at most. his character stories say he's taught 52 courses so far, and if professors teach ~5-ish per semester, he's been teaching for roughly 10 years (while earning 8 doctorates himself. veritas ratio where the fuck do u find the time).
so if he's 30 years old, he started teaching at 20 with maybe 1 or 2 doctorates under his belt - and, again, assuming he went straight from student to teacher without being a TA or anything first, because [screaming at all these hypotheticals].
if you've ever met a 20-year-old or remember being a 20-year-old yourself, you will know that they are fucking insufferable. having just endured the most trying ordeal of their lives (surviving being an 18-year-old), they think they have gained all the knowledge in the world and have uniquely uncovered all life's mysteries. so a 20yo ratio - who actually HAD gained significant knowledge and personally solved at least one interstellar crisis - had to have an ego approximately the diameter of saturn's rings. showered with more praise than he could ever process, hailed as a genius and once-in-a-lifetime visionary, setting his sights firmly on joining the genius society by earning Nous' gaze, he must've been so goddamn full of himself.
THAT is the ratio whose courses had a 3% pass rate. it probably only took him 1 or 2 semesters to realize holding everyone else to his impossibly high personal standards did not, in fact, make him a good teacher. i'm sure it was a humbling experience. i bet he got bad reviews on the starrail equivalent of ratemyprofessors.com and decided to go back and earn a whole nother doctorate about it - maybe medicine, to better understand the psychology behind learning, that he might thus become a better teacher. that sounds like an extremely ratio thing to do.
10 years on he probably doesn't teach, like, psych 101. he probably teaches shit like "applied string theory." top-level post-grad capstone courses, where anyone taking the course is most of the way thru their own PhD, and if they fail his course they just need to shift subdisciplines, not flunk out of university entirely.
i hope the hubris of his old 3% pass rate haunts him tho 😊 keeps him up at night, making him wonder how many students' curiosity and drive to learn was mercilessly snuffed out by his ego 🥰
#hsr#hsr meta#dr ratio#ratio#nhura#<- tagging u for the sheer amount of ratio brainrot i have just brainrote#do NOT look at the timestamp. time is a construct. dawn is a lie perpetuated by Big Sun#the post is long enough so i didn't get into it but - i don't think hsr is quite as bad wrt ages as some series are#(looking directly @ cid “treated like a crotchety old man at the ripe old age of 34” ffxiv)#but my perception of how old these characters should logically be and how old the creators mean them to be doesn't always match lol#it's equally unlikely for a 30yo to have been a professor for 10 years with 8 doctorates as it is for an anime character to be 30 years old
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Made With Love Part 3

OM Brothers & Datables x reader pt.3
Featuring Special parts with Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor
SERIES MASTERLIST HERE
Part 1 Here
~Now that you know how to nullify the Love Potion's effects, you wander the castle in search of your loved ones. But as you venture through these darkened halls you feel like you are being hunted.
WC: 7.1k
Warnings: Love Potion based personality changes, obsessive behaviors, mention of suggestive behavior, lots of teasing, kissing, touching, etc, Reader is implied to be smaller than Beel.
Asmodeus’ part alludes to past experiences of SA (not with the reader). If that topic makes you uncomfortable please skip it.
a/n: sorry for the wait my friends. I know so many of you have been looking forward to this part so I hope you like it!

Intro~
The air in Solomon's lab smells both burnt and strangely damp as Luke pushes his way inside. His little heart is pounding furiously as the door shuts behind him. Bits of dried herbs from experiments past litter the ground and crunch under the angel's feet.
Running from the palace has left him winded, and the stress from the situation makes his heart beat furiously in his chest, but he can't rest.
How could he after what he did?
Guiltily, he pulls out his DDD and taps on the darkened screen. It glows to life at his touch, illuminating the sweet photo of you and him working behind the counter at the RAD bake sale; one look at your kind smile sends him plunging into the deep dark sea of guilt as he is reminded once again that he is the one responsible for sending you into the lion's den to save everyone. Although he knows that none of his friends would ever hurt you, he worries that their love potion induced obsession may unintentionally cause them to act carelessly. Nervously, he checks his notifications and sees that he has no new messages from you. Which at least means that everything on your end is turning out alright.
All he has to do is find the recipe book that Solomon used to make the mysterious Potion and somehow use the knowledge from his Devildom Alchemy 101 class to reverse engineer the antidote before his unpredictable, love-sick friends try to do something stupid.
Seems simple enough…
But as Luke's eyes scan the cluttered countertops and bookshelves, he wonders if there is any order in this cluttered chaos. Books are everywhere, they overflow the shelves, lean precariously over the tables, and some are dangerously close to the enchanted burners.
"How am I supposed to find the book Solomon used in this mess?" He cries aloud. The lab does not answer back and Luke is met with the last thing he needs right now; silence.
Right now, you need a hero, a guardian angel. And Luke will do whatever he has to do to save your special day and free everyone from the effects of the Love Potion.
He takes a deep breath and looks determinedly at his reflection in an old mirror that Solomon keeps around so he can see the physical effects his mystery potions have, "I got this." he says, placing his hands on his hips and striking something that Asmodeus refers to as a power pose.
This confident posture fills him with hope as the little angel rolls up his sleeves and begins to get to work.
~
"Man, my head is killin' me." Mammon groans, tossing his white hair back onto the back of one of the banquet room's many velvet armchairs. "That damn potion gave me one helluva hangover."
Sprawled on a sofa across the room lies Lucifer, who holds a cold rag to his forehead as he flinches in annoyance at every word from his younger brother. "Silence, Mammon," He murmurs in a murderously low tone. Dark tendrils of energy flare up from around him, darkening the already dimly lit room. "If you continue to run your mouth, I promise you I will string you up till you turn purple."
Mammon's eyes widen in fear, "Right… Noise… Headache… Sorry." he gulps nervously as the dark flames die down. "I'll be quiet."
"Thank you," his brother says, rubbing his temple. "I'm glad we have reached an understanding."
Mammon sinks deeper into his seat as an uncomfortable silence befalls the room. He just can't believe that the afternoon has turned into this period. He was supposed to be having a great time with you and stealing every second of your time that he could. Now, he's confined to the banquet hall, feeling like he just got run over by a pack of HellHounds.
His head is practically throbbing with discomfort, and all he wants to do is go home and lie down in a dark room with you in his arms.
'Why did that damn Chihuahua have to go and ruin everything?' he thinks to himself, too worried to speak aloud after Lucifer's threat. If he hadn't eaten that damn cookie, he probably would've been able to steal you away and remind you why he is your First Demon.
He continues to wallow in his self-pity and potion-induced hangover until the door to the banquet hall opens slowly. Levi takes small steps with his squeaky shoes, leaving a puddle of pool water behind him in his wake.
Intrigued by his brother's drenched appearance, Lucifer sits up a bit in his chair, and his cold rag falls off of his forehead. "do I even want to know what happened?"
Levi's eyes widen, and a deep red blush creeps up his neck. "I don't wanna talk about it." He mumbles shyly.
"Why are ya all wet?" Mammon asks from his spot; although he's curious, he keeps his voice low so as not to invoke the Wrath of Lucifer. "Did Mc see how ya were actin' like a jerk and toss ya in?"
"No…" he mumbles, looking down at his dripping shoelaces. "I pulled them in."
Both brothers jolt upwards and look at each other in alarm. "Oi, what do ya mean ya pulled em in? Didn't ya know humans are fragile? They can't grow gills like ya can, idiot." Mammon spews worriedly.
Lucifer, on the other hand, has fallen murderously silent, his hands gripping the arm of his sofa until the enchanted wood begins to crack under his palms. "
"I-it's not like I wanted to do it." Levi stutters, trying to defend himself. "I-it was the potion, it made me want t-to keep them someplace only I could get to."
"And do what?" Mammon asks, rolling up his sleeves as if his fist is about to make contact with the Otaku's face. "Drown 'em?"
Levi opens his mouth, but no sound escapes him. His poor brain is too busy trying to process the whirlwind of emotions swimming around in his fandom-filled brain. Guilt, Exhaustion, Lust…Lucifer clears his throat. "Clearly, you are going to have to make it up to Mc after this whole nightmare is over." he pauses for a moment as a bit of shame flashes in his crimson gaze. His features fall as he recalls his previous behavior. "We all do."
"Not me," Mammon adds unhelpfully. This partially true statement earns him a death glare from both his brothers.
Satan~
"Come on, come one, come on," you mumble as you hold the power button to your waterlogged DDD in vain. But the screen doesn't even humor you with a weak flicker or a hum.
"Shit," you mutter, sliding the dead weight into your still-damp pockets. "Damn it Levi."
Deep down, you know it's wrong to blame the Avatar of Envy for this. After all, it was only because of the Love Potion that compelled him to lure you into the water like some kind of demonic siren and unintentionally destroying your clothes and your device.
But every squeaky step in your still-wet shoes has you wanting to send him the bill for your replacement DDD.
Knowing how embarrassed he felt when you broke the spell on him, he probably would give you double what you asked for.
With a shrug, you shove the destroyed tech into your soaked pocket and continue your search for the others.
Although this wasn't the day you had planned for, you have to say this lovey-dovey scavenger hunt of yours is definitely amusing to you. Getting to see the Brothers and apparently everyone else acting completely different is nothing short of entertaining.
But as you continue to search, your wet clothes feel uncomfortable on your body; if you are going to find everyone before the end of the day, you'll need to get changed into something else. Something dry. Something more comfortable.
As you turn the corner you realize that you have been in this part of the castle before. The familiarity of this hall comforts you as you follow the path to the spare room Diavolo had gifted you for the nights you choose to stay over. Where your dresser of your spare clothing awaits you.
You step into the room as the door shuts behind you a bit louder than you expected it to. Now alone in your safe place, you take a moment for yourself and grab a set of loungewear to throw on; the soft fabric feels much better against your skin than the wet, scratchy garments of minutes past.
Glancing down at the pile of your wet clothes on the floor, you grimace and take them to your spacious private bathroom to dry over the tub. It only takes a moment, but when you come back into the bedroom, you notice the hallway door is open.
'That's odd,' you say aloud, "I thought that door shut when I came in."
Before fear can begin to simmer in your gut, you are ambushed from behind by a warm figure. You let out a yelp as you lose your balance and fall over onto the carefully made bed with your attacker.
You squirm, trying to twist out of the firm grip around your waist with no success. When you feel the unnatural warmth radiating from your attacker's skin, you pause and notice the familiar blond head of hair that nuzzles into the nape of your neck. Relief crashes into you like you're a bird in a window cleaner commercial, and you stop fighting. "Satan?"
Upon hearing his name, the Demon perks up and pulls away to get a look at you. And aside from the hearts where his pupils should be, the usually intelligent avatar of Wrath appears to not have a single thought behind his eyes.
"Cutie pie." He hums, reaching up and pinching your cheek. "I missed you so much."
"You missed me?" You tease, a smile curling up on your lips in amusement. You ruffle his layered blonde hair, and he seems to lean into your touch like an eager puppy. His usual cat-like nature is completely gone, thanks to the effects of the strange love potion.
"Soooo much," he whines. "I haven't seen you in forever."
"Oh really?" you hum. "So, what have you been doing up here?"
"Was looking for you…" hu murmurs, "But then I got lost and didn't know how to find you; I got worried I would never see you again, and I got really sad."
"It's only been four hours." You remind him gently.
He furrows his brow and cocks his head in confusion. "Oh. How long is that again?"
"Not long at all," you say, taking your hand away from his head. When the Demon no longer feels the heavenly sensation of your touch, he looks up at you with big eyes full of hurt. You feel unbelievably guilty as you place your hand back atop his head and once again return to playing with his hair.
That lovesick smile returns to his face, and you are sure that if he was in his demon form, his tail would be wagging like crazy. His heart-shaped pups seem to come in and out of focus as he looks at you. "You're the goodest ever." he smiles.
"Guess what? You're even better," you respond.
One simple compliment seems to be what drives him over the top. His blush deepens as he tosses his head back and laughs. He giggly kicks his feet on the side of his bed as he wraps his arms around you again.
"Noooooo, you're the bestest." He says stubbornly.
All right then, you win." You relent. "Do you want to know what you win as a prize?"
"What do I get?" he says eagerly, crunching his hands into fists. As cute as he is acting, you really need to break the spell. Cute puppy love is entertaining, but you know that the real Satan would hate the way he's acting now.
Gently, you take your hand and cup his cheek. He's all smiles and adoration as you lean in to claim his lips.
The moment your lips touch his, you feel his body tense up with realization, his posture straightens, and he seems to be recovering his sense of self.
By the time you open your eyes, the Satan you know and love is back.
"The details of how I got here may be blurry," he says softly, gently stroking the side of your face. "But ending up here with you certainly was worth it."
Now you're the one blushing.
"How are you feeling?" You ask, taking a step backward to give the Demon his space. "What do you remember?"
"He concentrates for a minute as if he is mentally tracing his steps. When embarrassment takes over his features, you know he has figured it out. "It was the cookies, wasn't it?"
"Yep," you respond, relieved that Satan is back to his usual inquisitive self. "Luke used a bowl from Solomon's lab, and it had some weird personality-changing love potion in it."
He grimaces, no doubt recalling his behavior. "Mc, words cannot begin to express how ashamed I am of my actions, but I'm relieved that you were the only one present to witness my behavior. If I made you feel uncomfortable in any way, please accept my sincerest apologies."
"It's all good cutie pie." You say, mimicking his lovely dovey attitude from before.
He freezes and looks at you with a dull seriousness in his green eyes. "What do I have to do to make you forget this ever happened?"
"Hmmm, I don't know if I want to forget about this," you tease him, stepping closer to you to the point you are chest to chest.
"What If I gave you a real kiss?" he smirks, cupping your face gently. "Nothing like that pathetic excuse for one I gave you earlier."
"Are you bribing me?" You ask, endeared amusement lacing your voice as you look up at the avatar of Wrath.
"Perhaps," he grins. "I've read that kisses are an acceptable payment between lovers."
"Well then, I guess we're doing it by the book." You say, gladly accepting his payment. He kisses you desperately. Seemingly devouring your very soul as if it were the newest edition of his favorite series. But behind the genuine passion and adoration, he moves with a certain intelligence, knowing just what he has to do to take your breath away.
By the time you are able to breathe your own air again, you notice that Satan is beginning to feel the fatigue from the Potion's effects. His skin looks pale, and you can tell he is trying to fight off the impending headache. "Are you okay?" you ask, keeping your voice soft so as not to cause him any more discomfort as his hangover-esque symptoms begin.
"Yes, I'm alright," he murmurs.
"No, you're not. The others were like this too; you should go back to the banquet hall and lay down."
"But what about you?" The concern in his voice touches you, but you know you have to find the others alone. "I don't remember much about the others, but they won't be acting like themselves."
"I'll be fine," you reassure him. "From what I understand about the Potion, they won't harm me. I promise, if I need help, I will let you know."
"Okay, I believe in you." He nods but still looks worried. "But just know, if anyone attempts to cause you harm, I will burn this place to the ground and stomp on its ashes until I am satisfied."
His words send a flurry of butterflies aflutter in your stomach as he disappears around the corner, his footsteps echoing menacingly through the hallway. You have a feeling that his warning wasn't so much as given to you for reassurance rather than set aloud in the hopes that everyone else would hear it.
Alone again, you step into your guest bathroom to splash some cold water on your face to refresh yourself.
You definitely need it.
Asmo~
You feel like you're being hunted. Every single time you turn a blind corner or step past a darkened doorway, you feel like another one of your cursed loved ones is going to reach out and grab you.
Despite a few hiccups on the road, breaking the spell on the first four of the brothers has been pretty easy so far.
All of them have practically jumped into your arms and insisted on the Potion-breaking kiss within moments of seeing you.
Movement at the end of the hallway catches your eye, and you freeze. It's too far away to tell who it is, but you have found someone. You can tell from the way they stop in their tracks that they see you, too.
Although you do not hate the feeling of getting pounced on and smothered in affection from the beings you love the most, today has you feeling a bit jumpier than normal. The longer you stare at what is most likely a demon at the end of the hallway, the more nervous you get.
You don't know what to do. Should you run? Should you hide? Your brain can't decide on what to do so you brace yourself for them to lunge at you, but the embrace never comes.
"Hello?" you call out. The nervous tremor in your voice bouncing off the walls.
To your surprise, the person at the end of the hallway dashes away, leaving you confused and just a bit scorned.
"Wait, please," you call, running after them and into the statue gallery. Where you are surrounded by dozens of elegantly carved statues. The darkened room full of figures should make you afraid, but you get a smug sense of satisfaction from being the one doing the chasing this time.
You stop in the center of the room under the skylight. The cool moonlight shines down on you, and you can feel a pair of eyes on you somewhere in the room. "Hey, it's okay. Please come out. I just want to talk to you." you say between huffs.
Through the darkness, you hear a small, shy, shuffling sound as the one you were pursuing forward into the light.
Asmodeus steps forward timidly; his steps are clumsy and off-balanced, most likely due to one of the potions' many side effects. His pretty peach-colored eyes were big and sparkling. The heart-shaped pupils and light blush on his face look so fitting on him that you just stare at him in awestruck silence, taking in his beauty.
Instead of basking in your undivided attention like he usually does, The Avatar of Lust shies away from your gaze of admiration and looks down at the floor.
"Asmo," you say gently, noting this difference in his personality. "It's just me; why do you look so nervous?" You give him your friendliest, most encouraging smile and extend your hand out to him.
Just that simple gesture of love and kindness turns his cheeks a furious red, and he takes a quick step back, nearly knocking over a black marble statue of a Demoness with hair made out of pearls.
"Holding hands with you?" he asks in a soft whisper. "I-I don't know if I am ready for that?"
What?
The Asmo you know loves PDA.
You shake that thought out of your head; this isn't the Asmo, you know. If he's not comfortable with that, you need to make sure that he feels safe with you. Love Potion or not.
"No worries," you say with a kind smile, sitting on one of the carefully carved benches in the gallery. "How about we sit down and talk? Would you be okay with that?"
He nods his head slowly and sits down on the very edge of the bench.
The two of you sit in silence for what seems like a decade. In that time, he doesn't meet your gaze once, but whenever you don't appear to be looking at him, his eyes are on you like he has an innocent schoolyard crush.
Finally, you decide to break the silence. "how are you feeling?"
"F-fine," he says in a small voice. He shuts his mouth quickly as if he doesn't trust his words around you.
"I'm glad to hear that you're doing well," you say, noticing the subtle change in his body language. He doesn't look like he is about to run off at any moment. "Why did you decide to run from me?"
He nervously picks at his perfectly painted nails, chipping the dual-colored polish and letting the colorful strips flutter onto the patterned stone floor. "I ran because I was nervous. The others are just so bold, and I thought you would want to be with someone more confident and sexy like Simeon."
'Simeon?' you think to yourself. "That's the second time someone mentioned the Angel's uncharacteristic behavior today." Although your curiosity is fighting to the forefront of your mind, you cannot deprive Asmodeus of the attention he craves.
"Right now, Asmo, I want to spend time with you." you say, "I want to make sure you know how much I care about you, even if you're not as confident as you usually are right now."
His eyes widen with hope as his furious blush creeps up to the tips of his slightly pointed ears. But he is too tongue-tied to utter anything. He goes to shyly cover his face with his hands but you stop him.
His skin is hot on contact, but you pretend not to notice. You can tell there is something he wants to say. "Asmo, you know you can tell me anything. Right?"
"I can?" he whispers softly.
"Of course you can."
He takes a deep breath and clenches his fist as if he's gathering the courage to force the words from his pretty lips. "Can I kiss you?" He spits it out so quickly that you almost miss his request.
Your smile is victorious, "Of course you can."
"C-close your eyes, please," he stutters, "It's better that way."
You oblige, letting your eyelids shut. You feel him lean in close, his nervous breaths hitting your skin as the spellbound Demon gathers the courage to kiss you.
You don't dare move; this kiss has to be done on his terms, even if it takes all day.
His breath hitches, and he goes for it, giving you the smallest, quickest peck on the cheek. Before he slides over to the other side of the bench. A melancholy feeling blooms in your gut as you begin to wonder if that little kiss would really be enough to break the spell he is under.
But to your surprise, Asmodeus' laughter fills the room, and when you open your eyes, you see the Demon's heavy blush and unconfident posture subsiding.
"Asmo?"
The Avatar of Lust pounces on you, wrapping his arms around you tightly and nuzzling his face into your neck. "You are just too cute, Hon." he squeals, very much back to normal.
One thing you noticed is that he does not look anywhere near as tired as the others did after the spell is broken. Is it his concealer or is it something else?
He notices the way you are looking at him and gives you a dazzling smile. "It will take a bit more than a silly Love Potion to bring me down." he winks.
"You remember everything?"
"Mostly," he giggles. "I know there was something in the cookies and then I just started feeling strange. I felt like I was watching some kind of bad reality TV show. If I wanted to do something, it was like my body did the opposite." His features soften just a bit, and he looks at you with sincerity. "Still, thank you for looking out for me, Mc. Even if the real me would want to do more with you than just a cute little peck on the cheek, you waited for the cursed version of me to feel comfortable enough to initiate something, and that doesn't really happen a lot." His eyes turn glassy as he grabs your hand. "When you are as beautiful as me and used to having demons, witches, and everything else throw themselves at your feet, you find that people tend to take every inch they can get."
This time, you are the one who can't speak. The meaning behind the Demon's words causes you to hold his hand just a bit tighter as he blinks away his unfallen tears rapidly. This moment between the two of you may not need anything else right now. When words fail, you can rely on something as simple as silence.
"I should go lay down," he says at last, furrowing his brow. "You have a day to save, and I feel like I just drank a whole thing of Devil's Drink."
"Do I even want to know what that is?" you ask with a voice that seems to scream 'tell me.'
He tosses his head back in laughter. "Ohhh, you are so cute. Devil's Drink is a punch that consists of whatever types of demonus someone has on hand. It gets the party started, but afterward, you have the worst hangover ever.
"Oh my," you shudder, realizing that you and Lucifer are probably going to need to have a talk with him about drinking responsibly later on. "You should lay down then; the others are in the Banquet hall recovering as well."
He turns and starts to walk away before pausing in the corridor and giving you a sly wink. "Don't you worry, Hon; once this whole thing is over with, I promise you I will give you a proper thank you slash makeup Valentine's Date. Kay?" He puts his fingers to his lips and blows you a kiss before leaving you alone in the statue gallery.
"I'll hold you to it," you smile catching the kiss he blows your way as the carved figures around you send you encouraging smiles to continue your quest.
Beelzebub
All of this walking in silence makes you feel as if you are playing some weird backroom-esque game; you feel hyper-aware of your surroundings, listening for even the smallest sound that could lead you to find another one of your cursed men.
The bottoms of your feet feel slightly fatigued but you are spurred on by the fact you have managed to find at least half of the guys so far. At this rate, you'll probably be able to find everyone by dinner time.
Passing by a large window, the bright moonlight blinds you momentarily. You squint and step slightly out of the light, taking a glimpse of the miles and miles of dark forest that lies beyond the glass.
You take this moment to appreciate that so far, everyone is confined to the walls of the castle. This Love Potion has changed their demeanors so much that if they were to get out into the world, they would make quite the spectacle.
Suddenly, a cool breeze hits your skin, and you stop. The two large glass front drawers to one of the back balconies of the palace are wide open, and the sheer curtains are twisting violently in the breeze.
Knowing Barbatos would never allow this door to remain open for such a long period of time, you come to the conclusion that the door was opened fairly recently.
You begin to panic, your heart thrums wildly in your chest, and you worry that you're going to have a heart attack. You rush outside thinking that someone escaped and is out in the Devildom without their wits.
The cold air embraces you as you glance frantically around. Stepping up to the ledge of the balcony, you look down into the giant hedge maze below. It's only known to few if someone were to stumble out in there. It would take a long time to find them.
Swearing under your breath, you wonder if you are really going to have to go searching in the middle of the maze.
Before you can move to climb down the steps, a thin white flower pedal flies past your face, briefly pooping your nose. This little distraction has you turning your head, and you see a massive figure hunched over on a small-looking stone bench just on the other side of the balcony.
You are with a full sense of relief as you make your way over to them more and more flower petals seem to float to the ground. As you get closer you hear that they are mumbling to themselves.
"They love me. They love me not. They Love me. They love me not." You recognize that voice anywhere.
"Beel?" you say as the Avatar of Gluttony turns eagerly toward you and lets out the happiest little squeal of delight. You've never heard him make such an adorable sound before, and it fills your heart.
He springs from his tiny chair and lumbers over to you eagerly. His inhumanly strong arms wrap around you in a bear hunt that is so tight you can hardly breathe.
"Can't. Breathe." You out topping his arm to get his attention. He pouts but lets you down gently; even though you're out of his arms, he still has a firm grip on your hand.
"Sorry, Mc, I just love you so much I didn't wanna let you go. I've been wanting to be held by you the entire day."
"That's all right, Beel." You spot a flower petal Stuck in his hair, and you gently take your hand up to his face to remove it. He leans into your touch and lets out a happy little giggle.
"I knew you would come for me." He says enthusiastically. "but it took you so long I thought you forgot all about me. So I started picking the flowers so they could tell me if you loved me or not."
Glancing down briefly, you see flowers he was plucking earlier. You recall from a Devildom botany class they are called eternal daisies. No matter how many one plus a pedal from it, grow back after a few seconds. For the Demon to have amassed such a large pile of petals, he must have been doing this for a while.
"And what did the flowers tell you?" You tease, ruffling his hair; his violet eyes follow your hands as if they are about to show him the world's secrets. Your simple touch makes his heart-shaped pupils grow larger by the second.
"Flowers?" He sighs dreamily, unable to think of anything else but you. Curiously, you decide to let go of the gentle giant to see what he would do if you weren't touching him for a second.
His face falls, and he looks at you like you had just told him Hell's Kitchen shut down for good.
His kicked puppy persona hurts your heart so bad you immediately grab his hand, and the look of pure bliss returns to his features.
"You're so cute, Mc," he murmurs softly.
"Wanna know something? You're even cuter."
He lets out a delighted squeal and excitedly holds you again. The unnatural warmth radiating from his body makes you realize how cold you are out here on the balcony.
"Beel, would you like to go inside, and we can get you something to eat?" you ask, hoping to tempt him with food. But he shakes his head adamantly.
"M' not hungry."
Woah.
You pinch yourself just to make sure you are not dreaming of Beel denying you a chance to eat.
"Isn't it a little cold out here?" you ask teasingly, trying to take his hand and guide the larger Demon backward, but he stubbornly digs his feet into the ground and shakes his head stubbornly.
"No, If we go back inside, the others are gonna find you and take you away from me, and I won't get to hold you anymore."
"What will it take to get you to come inside with me?" you sigh. Normally, you don't barter with demons, but you are exhausted and just want to get inside.
"Could you carry me?" he asks, his heart-shaped pupils full of hope.
"Carry you?" you repeat.
"Yeah," he nods, swaying slightly, "like a piggyback ride. I am always the one giving them it would be nice to be carried around for a bit."
"That's true," you nod, glancing back at the door; it's only a few steps. "I guess I could try."
You crouch down slightly so the much larger, much heavier Demon can climb on your back. Thankfully, he goes slow so as to not throw you off balance, but you have to reach deep inside yourself to find the strength to move the Demon made of solid muscle who clings to your back.
No amount of strength training could've prepared you for this.
Beel nuzzles his face into your neck as you take step after agonizing step toward the door. When you finally let him down on the ground, your legs feel like jelly but the look of joy on his handsome features alleviates some of your back pain.
"That was so fun," he laughs, leaning in and kissing you eagerly as a form of payment. Although you are sore from this unexpected powerlifting session, you accept his kiss happily. It starts off tame and innocent, but he begins to lose himself.
His gluttony breaks through the spell, and he begins to devour your lips like he hasn't eaten in days.
When he is satisfied, you pull back and are relieved to see that he has returned to normal. "Mc, I didn't hurt you, did I?"
"What are you talking about?"
"I can't believe I made you carry me." he frowns, holding his hands together so tightly it looks painful.
"It's okay, Beel, I'm fine," you reply, ignoring the slight pain in your back.
"Are you sure?" he asks worriedly. There is so much concern in his gaze you find yourself immediately reassuring him.
"Still, you shouldn't have to carry me. You need it, I will carry you around.-"cut off by the loud growling of his stomach. "M' hungry"
"I bet you are, "you say. His current state of hunger is overpowering the headache the others are suffering from right now. "you should go into the banquet hall; there's still lots of food left over from the party."
"Are you sure you don't wanna come with me?" He asks, "Food tastes so much much better when I'm with you."
"I wish I could, but I have to find Belphie and the others. But I promise I'll be back soon."
You can tell from the look on his face that he wishes he could carry you back to the banquet hall with him, but he leaves. As he disappears out of sight, you hope that all the cursed cookies are hidden away by the time he reaches the banquet hall so he doesn't accidentally eat any more of them.
Belphie~
There is an uncomfortable knot in your back as you walk; giving Beel a piggyback ride certainly was not what you expected you would have to do today.
The sound of broken glass reaches your ears, causing you to flinch slightly at the noise.
What was that sound?
Where did it come from?
Is someone hurt?
Briskly, you walk towards the corridor where you heard the sound, your head on a constant swivel for any kind of danger or lone shard of glass until you reach a small staircase.
You don't think you've ever seen it before; the dark wood looks old but well tended by the Butler's expert hand.
Taking hold of a railing, you begin your descent into the darkened room; you feel along the wall for a light switch until you land on it and flick it upwards.
You find yourself standing in the middle of a massive wine cellar with thousands of unique bottles of Demonus. Surround you and you find yourself mesmerized by all the dancing colors of glass.
In the back corner of the room, you find the source of the earlier crash. Belpheghor kneels over a broken bottle of miscellaneous liquor. Shards of glass sprinkled the pool of deep purple liquid-like islands on the sea.
The youngest avatar of sin moves quickly, cleaning up the mess with a speed you have not seen from him before. He is so focused on the task at hand he doesn't notice you coming up behind him until you utter his name.
"Belphie, I heard the crash. Is everything all right?
His head snaps toward you, and he beams at you, his whole body seemingly abuzz with excitement as he scoops you into his arms. "Careful, there might be some glass still on the floor, I should hold you until it's safe."
"I hope that bottle wasn't too expensive," you shudder, looking at the remains of the bottle that is most likely older than your family tree.
"Nah, that one was only 500 years old. I thought you would like it since it's not too sweet," he mutters, brushing your cheek with his thumb. " I just read the tasting card and thought you would like it more than all those dusty old bottles."
"Five. Hundred. Years?" you breathe, swallowing nervously.
"Yeah, that's nothing." he laughs. "I am so glad you're here, Mc. I am so bored. Let's do something fun together." He is overflowing with this excitable golden retriever energy, and you can't help but be infected by it.
"Oh yeah? What do you want to do?" you tease, playing along with him. Although you still have to break the spell on him, you may as well have a bit of fun with this energetic version of Belphie while you can.
"Let's go hiking," he says at once. "It's too boring here, but someone once told me about a great spot for a hike. I have never wanted to go on it before since I would've rather been sleeping, but I think we could have a lot of fun."
"Oh, that would be fun," you smile, leaning your head against his shoulder, "Maybe we should go on a warmer day. That wind is really cold outside, and it will be hard to look at the stars with all the clouds."
His eyes fill with confusion as he looks at you with his unnerving heart-shaped pupils. "Why would I want to look at some dumb stars when you are right in front of me? You are so amazing I don't think I ever want to stop looking at you." Although he isn't going anywhere, his body can't seem to sit still. It's like he is hooked up to an IV full of Red Bull.
Nervous laughter leaves your lips, and you reach up to play with his hair. "That's really sweet, but wouldn't you get tired?"
"No," he says plainly. "If I close my eyes, then I won't be able to look at you until I open them again."
"Oh really?" A little plan is formulated in your head. "You mean to tell me you will never close your eyes ever again?"
He smiles innocently and shakes his head. "Never again."
"Not even to blink?" you ask, looking up at him with big eyes. With your head cradled in his chest, you notice that even his heartbeat is accelerated. Is this another one of the Potion's side effects? You make a mental note to remember as much information as you can so you can tell Solomon all about this once everything is over and done with.
"Not even to blink," he says confidently.
"Prove it. Staring contest right now."
The prospect of a challenge intrigues the Demon, and he gently sets you down on top of one of the cellar's many kegs. "What do I get if I win?"
"let's see," you hum, holding your chin in consideration. "if you win, we get to go on that hike right now."
"go hiking! Let's do it." he leans him close, never taking his eyes off of you for a second.
"Ready? Go!" You open your eyes wide and meet his gaze. Now that he is face-to-face with you it makes it a lot easier to steal a kiss from him.
Demon is ruptured in the competition at hand to even think that you're going in for the Bell breaking kiss until your lips are on his. And surprise and lets his eyes close, leaving you victorious.
As he comes back to his senses, Belphie relaxes greatly. His movements are lazy, as is his kiss. It's slow and comforting but perfect, nevertheless.
By the time you pull away, you see how heavy his eyelids are drooping.
"Are you tired now, Belphie?" You ask as he rests his head against your shoulder.
"Mmmmmhmmm," he groans. "How'd I get here? What happened to the party?"
"There was a potion accidentally mixed into the cookies," you explain. "I promise you I'll tell you everything later, but for now, you should go back to the banquet hall and get some sleep; your other brothers are back there waiting for you."
"Is Beel okay?" he murmurs.
"Yes, He's fine now."
"That's good." he sighs, dragging his feet toward the door. "Thank you for helping with all this. Why do we keep dragging you into these messes?"
"To keep me on my toes, I guess." you laugh, basking in the warmth of the Demon's gaze.
He smiles at your comment, but then a look of realization crosses his features, and he looks at you seriously.
"Mc, please be careful," he says suddenly, his left hand rubbing his temple as his headache grows. "I don't know why, but I feel like you should really watch yourself around Simeon."
"Don't worry," you reply softly, trying your best to sound reassuring. "I promise I've got this handled. We will all be back together soon…"

~Thank you for reading!
Part 4 coming soon...

Tagging: @enchantedforest-network
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Are y'all about ready for some LICENSED 101 WRIF - FM Detroit recycled guitar string bracelets?!
I was able to put them out at Peach Festival Craft Show 🤘🔥 and will have them with me at LO Palooza next weekend 🎶
Website listings coming soon!! Shoot me a message if you need ONE NOW!!
LOUD love,
-Kera-
#restrumed#upcycled jewelry#classic rock#musicians#guitar#music#wrif#festival#guitar pick#guitar string jewelry#101thewrif#101 the wrif
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Ghost
Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader
Warnings: Angst, Fluff
18+ MINORS DNI
Word Count: 5.3k+
AN: Hey guys, this fic is going to be a small series.
Taglist : @mothertoall2 @natashamaximoff-69 @canvascoloredin @wizardofstories @louxbloom @wandanats-goodgirl @the-ox-fan20 @ladyqueenxoxo @aemilia19 @wandaromamoff69 @mfd-101 @dorabledewdroop @marvelogic @dopeyouth @karsonromanoff @bimad @reginassweetheart @machyishere @gemz5 @pawiie @duckiekong (If you want to be added to my taglist, please DM me or comment)
Ghost was always that one assassin that would always just elude the Avengers, everytime they would think they had Ghost within their grasp, Ghost would just disappear, leaving behind a string of bloody corpses, but no traces that would help the Avengers figure who they were up against.
“This is the fourth one in two weeks.” Nat observed as she knelt over the bloody corpse of a Senator. “And they all work for the government in some way.” Steve walked around the room, his eyes searching for anything that could aid in capturing the assassin.
“They’re good.” Clint stated as he looked at Nat. “They’re better than you ever were, Romanoff.”
“I don’t care if they’re good at covering their tracks.” Steve told them firmly. “This is the fourth government official in a fortnight, and we don’t even know why they are targeting these people.”
“Do we know if they are all connected in some way?” Nat questioned as she rose to her feet.
“Tony is doing a thorough background search on each of them, delving into every aspect of their lives that they didn’t want anyone to know.” Steve told her. “There isn’t anything different in the killings, they were all murdered in the exact same way.”
“Maybe we could see if we can find some sort of calling card, you know like most serial killers leave behind.” Clint questioned as Nat shook her head no.
“They have never left a single thing behind, no fingerprints, footprints or any form of DNA that would help us even find them.” She told him, her hands resting on her hips as she looked around the room carefully. “That is why they are known as Ghost, they kill quietly but leave nothing behind but a message.”
“But what is the message?” Steve pondered as he looked at the only entrance to the room. “There is no sign of forced entry, so either they picked the lock or the people knew who they were.”
“Cameras?” Clint questioned as Nat shook her head no.
“All of them are disabled so we have no footage of them entering or leaving the building.” She told him.
“Then how are we supposed to find this person if there are no breadcrumbs to follow?” Clint questioned.
“I don’t know, but we have to head back, Fury will be waiting for a briefing on this.” Steve told them both, leading them out of the building. The journey back to the compound was silent, all three of them racking their brains for anything they may have missed, or anyone who could be behind these assassinations. “I’ll go and brief Fury, Nat can you see where Tony is on his background checks?” Nat nodded before she headed down towards the lab, finding Tony sipping coffee as ACDC blasted through the room as he looked at the screen before him.
“Have you found any connections?” She asked him as she stood behind him.
“So far?” He questioned as she nodded. “Not much, some of them have had some DUI’s, our very own Senator Green even has a restraining order up against him.”
“Who ordered the restraining order?” Nat questioned as she combed through the information laid out on the screen.
“His ex wife.” He answered her. “But she doesn’t exactly have the funds to pay for a hit out on him, let alone she has no motive against the others.”
“So we are still at nothing.” Nat groaned as Tony grinned.
“Not exactly, with the other three, they found a piece of paper with some sort of quote.” He told her, getting the picture of the calling card up. “Snakes hide in grass, people behind their lies.”
“What does that even mean?” She questioned as Tony shrugged.
“I don’t know exactly, but it's the same quote each time.” He told her. “It’s kind of like whoever this Ghost is, they are trying to send a message, but I haven’t quite figured that out just yet.”
“Was there any prints or anything on the card?” She asked him, sighing when he shook his head no.
“There’s nothing, the card is clean, there isn’t even a way for me to track the manufacturer either.” He told her.
“Okay, just keep looking for anything else.” She told him before she headed towards the door.
“It’s not like I have anything better to do.” He spoke sarcastically as he continued to comb through the information he had. Nat soon made her way into the kitchen, finding both Wanda and Yelena arguing over food.
“Natasha, tell her that macaroni and cheese is better than paprikash.” Yelena bombarded her as soon as she saw her older sister.
“Mac and Cheese isn’t exactly the healthiest option.” Wanda told her.
“No, but it’s the tastier option.” Yelena told her.
“How would you know, you smother it in hot sauce every time. You can’t even smell the cheese or anything else.” Wanda told her as she continued to prepare dinner for the team.
“You two are children.” Nat chuckled as she grabbed herself a bottle of water.
“Is there any news on this Ghost?” Yelena asked as she reached into the cupboard for a box of mac and cheese.
“Nothing, other than some quote they keep leaving behind.” She told them both. “Snakes hide in grass, people behind their lies.”
“Snakes hide in grass, people behind their lies.” A voice sounded beside Wanda, making her jump slightly as she watched her brother get tested.
“Am I supposed to know what that means?” She questioned as they just smirked at her.
“Not everything is as it seems here.” They told her before walking away.
“Are you okay, Wanda?” Nat questioned, a look of concern in her eyes as Wanda dropped the pot, its contents spilling out onto the floor.
“Yeah.” She whispered as she moved to clean up her mess, their blue irises and voice surrounding her every thought. “It’s just I’ve heard someone say that to me before.”
“Who?” Nat questioned her, her full attention on Wanda.
“Y/N.” She told them. “They used to be an agent working for Hydra at the Sokovia facility, but this can’t be them, they died.”
“How do you know they died?” Yelena asked her, Wanda took in a shaky breath.
“They died in my arms.” Wanda told her. “I watched as they bled out, I watched as life left their eyes.”
“Who were they to you?” Nat questioned as Wanda wiped her eyes.
“They were a friend, they protected me.” She told them. “Being a female volunteer within Hydra, most of their agents being men with their own agendas and sick minds, they made sure I was never hurt by any of them.”
“Do you know their surname?” Nat questioned.
“Y/L/N.” Wanda answered her.
“Thank you Wanda.” Nat gave her a soft smile before she headed back towards Tony’s lab hastily. “Can you do a background search on Y/N Y/L/N?” She asked him.
“Of course, but why?” He questioned as he got to work, Nat had explained everything she had just learned from Wanda. “So do you think this Ghost could be this Hydra Agent?”
“I’m not sure, but something seems off about this whole thing.” Nat told him.
“Agent Y/N Y/L/N, they were Strucker’s right hand.” He read out, Nat’s eyes scanning their picture as she read over their details. “Deceased.”
“Does it say how they died?” She questioned as Tony continued his search.
“They were shot multiple times.” He told her. “They were an accessory, aiding the twins escape before we detained Strucker.”
“Wanda and Pietro volunteered thinking Hydra were helping Sokovia.” Nat mumbled as she paced the lab, muttering the phrase they had recently learned. “So, in a way they were even warning Wanda about Hydra in their own cryptic way. They knew exactly what Hydra’s agenda was, they knew the true intention of global domination.” She paused for a moment before turning to face Tony. “Do you think that this may be a warning?” She questioned.
“A warning for what?” He asked her.
“Hydra still exists, they’re trying to regain their power.” She stated as Tony shook his head no.
“We destroyed Hydra, we took down all of their remaining bases after Sokovia.” He told her. “It’s impossible.”
“Just think about it.” She urged him. “Hydra had their claws within SHIELD, Pierce, Rumlow and other double agents. We don’t exactly know if they have their claws deep within the American government.”
“So you think these victims are all Hydra?” He questioned with a light chuckle, soon stopping when he noticed Natasha’s serious expression. “They’re all Hydra.” He whispered, soon turning to his screen, typing away. “Those bastards.” He pulled up some old press photos of each of the victims, sighted with Pierce himself. “Every single one of the victims are there.”
“Do you think you can maybe identify any other possible targets?” She questioned. “Maybe if we can find a pattern, we may be able to narrow down the next target and intercept Ghost.”
“I’ll try.” He told her, starting a facial recognition search on the other people in the picture.
“Maybe put out a search for anyone who fits Y/N’s description.” She told him.
“But they’re dead.” He told her, rubbing his eyebrow.
“I am finding that hard to believe right now.” She told him honestly. “How many times have all of us here been on death's door, just look at the tech we also have in the medical field, it’s all high tech, making it a possibility that maybe someone who found Y/N’s body had saved them.” She soon left to find Steve, notifying him of the new information they have recently found. “Tony’s going to call us as soon as he finds out who the next target could be.”
“Then we will need to have the whole team ready for this.” Steve stated as the two walked towards the briefing room. “If we have a chance at catching this Ghost, we are going to need all of our strengths to even try and take them down.”
“Why do you always stay near me?” Wanda questioned as she sat in her cell.
“Believe it or not, I want to keep you safe.” They told her honestly. “I know what most of these agents are capable of, what they think of and I don’t want any of them to do something untoward under my watch.” They told her honestly.
“If you’re not like the others, why do you work here?” She questioned, her eyes searching theirs.
“Unfortunately, I was taken when I was younger.” They told her. “I used to have a family, back home in England, but I watched as they were all murdered before I was taken. I was trained by one of the most notorious Agencies in Europe. It’s known for training mostly young women into becoming assassins, but Hydra made a deal with the Red Room. They wanted the ultimate agent, able to do anything that was asked of them.”
“I’m sorry.” Wanda whispered sadly as Y/N shook their head with a small smile.
“It’s okay, I made my peace that my life wasn’t my own a long time ago.” They told her softly. “But, we can try and get you and your brother your lives back.”
“How?” She questioned as they pressed their finger to their lips, silencing her.
“In time, I will help you both.” They whispered. “I just need to devise a perfect plan to get you both out of here.” With that they left the cells, leaving Wanda alone and in darkness.
“So, do we have anything more?” Steve questioned as he entered Tony’s lab with Natasha.
“We do.” He told them both. “They seem to be going in alphabetic order.”
“So who is the next victim?” Nat asked as Tony pulled up a picture on the screen.
“Mr Howard Jameson.” Tony answered the two of them.
“Okay, we’re going to need to have a 24 hour detail around him.” Steve told them both.
“But what if this whole thing about Hydra is true?” Tony questioned. “We would be going against everything we stand for.”
“I know, but we need to catch this Ghost, get them to tell us everything they know.” Steve told them.
“What makes you think they would tell us everything?” Nat questioned as Steve smiled. “Wanda, you want her to reach into their mind.”
“It’s what we need, then maybe we can finish this whole thing with Hydra ourselves.” Steve told them both. “We need to get everyone briefed and out ready, we are going to catch this bastard.”
“Language!” Tony gasped, making Nat chuckle as Steve shook his head, a small smile on his face.
“Do you think we have a chance at catching them before they kill their next victim?” Yelena questioned as everyone made their way to their assigned locations.
“I’m not sure, with everything we have learned about them so far, they seem to be just as easy as catching mist.” Natasha told her, the two watching Jameson from their seats across from him in the hotel bar he was staying at. “But all we can do is try, but we have Wanda and with her powers it is a possibility that we can actually pull this off.”
“But are we sure we want to?” Yelena asked her, receiving a firm look from her sister. “If all of these guys are Hydra, why do we want to help protect them from someone who clearly knows everything about them.”
“Either way, how they are going about it is wrong.” Nat told her. “The way they are making them suffer before killing them is inhumane.”
“And we haven’t done much worse.” Yelena spoke sarcastically.
“You know exactly what I mean Lena.” Nat told her sternly. “There are proper channels to go through, you don’t just go around killing people, innocent or not.”
“That’s all we ever do.” Lena scoffed before observing her surroundings, looking for anything out of the ordinary.
“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Steve asked Wanda quietly, who only nodded her head. “I know of the connection you had with this Y/N.”
“Y/N died.” Wanda told him firmly. “Whoever this person is, isn’t Y/N.” Steve only nodded and dropped the subject, turning his attention to their surroundings. “What exactly are we looking for?” Wanda questioned as she swirled the liquid in her glass.
“Anything out of the ordinary.” Steve answered.
“So, that could also be classed as ourselves.” She smirked as she sipped her drink. “But I don’t think they will be stupid enough to do anything out in the open where there are a lot of eyes on them.”
“We need to figure out what room Jameson is staying in.” Steve muttered as Nat nodded, rising from her seat and heading towards the hotel lobby. A flirtatious smile adorned her face as she approached the concierge.
“Can I help you?” They asked her, returning her smile.
“I need some information.” She told them. “Do you know what room Howard Jameson is staying in? My boss, he’s the head of Jameson’s security detail, has asked for me to check his room, as you know there have already been a string of Government assassinations and we fear that Jameson may be a target and he told me what room he was staying in, but I have already forgotten. So can you help me?”
“Of course.” They smiled as they typed away on their computer, looking at the hotel listings. “But I can assure you that we have a top of the range security system ourselves.”
“I know, it’s just precautions that we like to keep in-house.” She told them.
“Room 38.” They told her.
“Thank you.” She gave them a smile before she headed towards the elevator. “I’m heading up to check the room now.” She spoke through the comms.
“We’re on our way.” Steve told her. “Clint, Yelena, you two stay here and don’t let Jameson leave your sight.” Wanda followed Steve towards the stairs, heading up towards the room as fast as they could. “Natasha, do not enter that room until we are there.”
“Of course.” Nat answered as she stood down the hall from the room, waiting for the others to arrive. As soon as the stairwell door opened, she smirked as she saw Steve enter the hall. “You sure took your time, old man.” She teased before they all made their way down the hall.
“Wanda, if we see them, you’re going to need to use your powers to restrain them.” Steve told her in a hushed tone. “Just long enough for us to slap these power dampening restraints on them.”
“How do you know if they have powers?” Nat questioned as Steve looked at her.
“I don’t, I’m just taking extra precautions.” He told them, gesturing for Wanda to open the door, once the door opened, the room was covered in darkness, the only light was the faint light cast from the moon. Wanda shuddered as she felt a presence she hadn’t felt in so many years, using her powers, surrounding the Ghost and preventing them from moving. Leaving them frozen in their spot, Steve was fast to slap the cuffs on them. “Let’s take them to the compound.” He told them, leading them all outside and heading towards the fire exit.
Wanda watched as Y/N stood at the other end of the hall, their focus remained on Strucker as he gave them their orders. Wanda was always curious as to how Y/N had managed to get their role as Strucker’s right hand, knowing that they must be his most trusted confidant. She smiled slightly as they turned to face her, soon faltering as their face remained emotionless whilst in the presence of Strucker.
“What was that about?” Wanda questioned once Y/N had approached her, they looked over their shoulder before they answered.
“We are going to get you and Pietro out of here tonight.” They told her. “We have word that the Avengers are planning an attack.”
“Stark.” Wanda seethed as Y/N tried to keep her calm.
“We need to get you both out of here, before the attack happens.” They told her quietly. “I have a plan but I am going to need both of you to follow my every instruction.” Wanda nodded as they explained everything to her, using her powers to inform Pietro of their plan.
Ghost remained in cuffs as they paced the cell, aware of the cameras that were watching them. They remained in their mask as Fury entered the cells, accompanied by the others. They stopped their pacing when they noticed they had company, their eyes met Wanda’s, holding her gaze as Fury spoke.
“What the hell are they doing in lock up?!” He questioned them, looking between the team before his gaze went back to Ghost.
“They are a national threat.” Steve answered him. “They have already killed multiple government reps and who knows how many more.”
“I don’t care! They are on strict orders to take down anyone with any power of restoring Hydra to its former glory.” He told them angrily.
“You knew about this?” Nat questioned.
“Of course I do! They are working under my orders.” He told them.
“I don’t understand.” Steve spoke unsurely as Fury asked Tony to unlock the cell, allowing him inside.
“Uncuff them.” He ordered Steve, once they were uncuffed, they removed their mask, causing Wanda’s world to fall apart in one moment.
“Come on.” Y/N urged the twins, leading them through the base, taking out any agents who had crossed their path. “The old sewer access is right here.” They opened the door for the two of them, the sound of the alarm and gunfire filling their ears. They urged the two of them to go through the tunnel first before following behind them.
“This way!” An agent’s voice could be heard, their footsteps following the three of them closely. “They’re escaping!”
“Hurry up.” Y/N urged the two of them. “There should be a manhole not too far ahead.” They told them both. Once they had seen the ladders leading up, Pietro was the first to climb followed by Wanda, just as the agents were coming up behind them. Y/N had raised their gun, firing at the agents before following the twins.
“Y/N!” Wanda yelled as she looked behind her, seeing as Y/N struggled to keep running.
“Keep moving!” They yelled, gesturing for her to keep moving, Wanda ignored them and ran back towards them, putting her arm around them to help them run with her.
“You’re hurt.” She told them as they stumbled to the ground.
“I’ll be fine.” They told her, Wanda’s eyes found multiple bullet wounds as she tried to stop the bleeding. “You both need to keep moving.” They coughed as Wanda shook her head.
“I’m staying.” She told them as Pietro approached the two of them, she looked up at her twin, sadness in her eyes. “We need to get them help.”
“Wanda.” Y/N tried as they winced, trying to get her attention. “You both need to leave.”
“No.” Wanda shook her head.
“I’m sorry.” They coughed as Wanda gave them a sad smile as she shook her head.
“It’s okay, we’re going to get you help.” Wanda tried as Pietro knelt beside her, resting his hand on her shoulder.
“Wanda.” He tried as Wanda shook her head. “They're losing too much blood.”
“THEN HELP ME!” She yelled at him. “Please.” She cried as she looked at her brother. “I can’t lose anyone else, please.”
“It’s okay.” Y/N whispered, their breathing labored. “It will be okay.”
“I can’t.” Wanda shook her head as Y/N turned to Pietro.
“Keep her safe.” They told him.
“Always.” He answered before Y/N turned to Wanda.
“Thank you.” They whispered before they closed their eyes, their breathing soon coming to a halt as Wanda shook her head.
“No.” She whispered, tears streaming as she held them. “No, you can’t leave me.”
“Come on, we have to go Wanda.” Pietro told her, pulling her up to her feet and taking her in his arms.
“They’re supposed to be dead.” Steve spoke up, recognising Y/N from the picture Tony had pulled up.
“They were almost.” He told them. “How do you think you had the information and location of that Hydra base in Sokovia? Y/N here was my agent on the inside.”
“So all of that about your parents was a lie?” Wanda questioned, trying to hide the shakiness in her voice.
“No, that was all true.” They answered her. “I uh I deflected once I met you and your brother, I hated how they treated the both of you. I knew I needed help to protect you both.”
“Pietro died.” Wanda told them, watching as they looked at their hands as her tears started to fall. “I had lost the only two people I had ever loved, who had ever looked out for me and.” She took a deep breath before she stepped closer to them. “You died in my arms! You fucking died!” She yelled as she started to hit at their chest, her tears falling. “I WATCHED YOU BLEED OUT IN MY ARMS!! I CRIED FOR YOU!! MOURNED YOU AND YOU ARE STILL ALIVE!!”
“I never meant for this to hurt you.” They told her, regret evident in their voice.
“I can’t do this.” She whispered as she left, heading straight for her room, leaving everyone in the cells. Y/N attempted to follow her but was stopped by Steve.
“We need to know everything you know about these government officials.” He told them firmly, Y/N sighed before following the team to the briefing room. Y/N had gave them all of the names of the Hydra adversaries that remained hidden within the government.
“How do you know all of this?” Nat questioned as she leaned against the wall, her arms folded across her chest. “I just don’t understand how we are supposed to trust you.”
“I used to be Strucker’s right hand.” They answered her honestly. “I was always present at any important meetings with those who he answered to.”
“How did you get to be Strucker’s right hand?” She questioned, her eyes burning into them, watching their every move.
“When I was taken from my family, he was the one who took me under his wing, he also made a deal with Dreykov, to train me to be the best agent for Hydra, without any other DNA enhancements.” They answered. “He wanted someone who he could overpower if they got too out of hand, unlike the Winter Soldier who was considered a flight risk after Captain America resurfaced. I made the best Agent because I had no means of humanity left, they saw to that when they murdered my parents and little brother in front of me.”
“Why did it take you so long to turn against them? You could have easily helped SHIELD sooner.” She pressed on as Y/N shook their head.
“I was scared, it wasn’t just pure loyalty to him or Hydra.” Y/N told her, not showing any emotion. “They wanted to take away what would have been known as a weakness, to them, my family was a weakness and I had no one. I was soon declared dead once the police who investigated my family’s death had no leads as to where I could be. That was until I met the twins, I understood why they volunteered, although it was blindly and Hydra manipulated the two of them into thinking they would help them protect their home. I then remembered just how messed up Strucker and the rest of Hydra was, they would stop at nothing for world domination, making the world within Hitler’s image, not sparing any innocent lives who dared to stand against them. The love and respect the twins had for each other, that they would do anything to protect each other and the innocence of their home, that made me realise just what I needed to do, so I made a deal with Fury. I was to help the twins escape, hand over the coordinates of every known Hydra base, and I was to help SHIELD with the downfall of Hydra.” They kept their eyes on her, shielding any emotion that threatened to show through their eyes as they spoke. “It was Fury who found me, along with Agent Hill and they brought me to the best SHIELD medical specialist they had. They had saved me and I was given my orders to eliminate any possible threat of Hydra rising again.”
“You killed all of those people.” Steve spoke in disdain. “You practically tortured them and we are supposed to just work with you? You were Hydra once yourself, you must have believed in what they stood for once.”
“Your friend over there, he was also Hydra, he was with them longer than I, he has more innocent blood on his hands than I. Romanoff and Belova were Widows, working for the Red Room and executing Dreykov’s orders, given Belova was more an experiment of a cognitive serum, so she also had all of her free will stripped away but Romanoff.” They turned to look at her. “You executed Dreykov’s orders without question, you were in the same shoes as I. You had no family, the only family you knew of was all a ruse for Dreykov to get his hands on some information that Alexei retrieved before Dreykov took both you and your sister. You are no better than I.”
“I am nothing like you.” Natasha spoke, clenching her jaw.
“No? Who was it that had died in that explosion for your deflection to SHIELD?” Y/N questioned. “Dreykov’s daughter, she was no older than 11 years old.”
“She didn’t die.” Natasha defended.
“But you didn’t know that until you took down the Red Room yourself, so for years you lived with that guilt, you have lived with the guilt of all of those lives that were also lost in the crossfire.” They told her. “All of you have just as much innocent blood on your hands as I.”
“Y/L/N.” Fury spoke sternly, Y/N apologised before they retreated. “Y/N here will be joining you, they will help you with any missions we send your way as they also continue to take down Hydra before it is reborn.” He looked between Steve and Natasha. “I want no objections. Mr Stark, Y/N here will need a room set up.” Tony nodded before Fury left the briefing room.
Settling in wasn’t easy for Y/N, the atmosphere was cold and bitter, making them feel unwelcome. They spent most of their time in their room, other than being in the training room during the night. As they returned to their room, they had seen Wanda for the first time in a couple of weeks. She was sitting on their bed, her chin resting on her hand, Y/N knocked on their door to gain her attention.
“You know, it feels odd to knock on my own door.” They teased with a gentle smile, they watched as Wanda fought back a smile as they entered the room, closing the door behind them. “I’m sorry, Wanda.” She shook her head before she spoke.
“I just, I want an explanation.” She told them. “I just, I don’t understand. You died in my arms and now you are standing right here, in front of me, very much alive.”
“I’ll be honest, I thought I was dead too.” They spoke honestly as they sat beside her. “I had lost a substantial amount of blood, that I even had no chance of surviving even if I went to the nearest hospital.”
“You stopped breathing.” She whispered.
“I know.” They looked at their hands as Wanda observed them. “But the human body is a magnificent thing, when it has gone through a lot of pain and trauma, the heart rate slows down, right down, almost as though it would have stopped.” They took a deep breath. “Not too long after you and Pietro had left, Fury had sent in a team to my location, taking me to one of SHIELD’s top facilities. He had the best doctors and surgeons save me, they saved my life and once I had regained consciousness, there wasn’t a moment where you weren’t on my mind. I wanted to find you and your brother, I wanted to make sure that you were safe but I had made a deal with Fury, so I had to follow orders, I was unable to come and find you.” They turned to look in her eyes. “Then I heard the news of Pietro’s death, I defied my orders and came to find you, I saw you, you were healthy and safe but I hated seeing the pain in your eyes, the grief you were drowning in and I knew that if I had come back, you would only hate me for leaving you.”
“I could never hate you.” Wanda whispered as Y/N shook their head. “I lo.. I need to go, I have a mission tomorrow with Natasha.” She told them as she stood up, heading towards their door.
“I really am sorry, Wanda.” They told her quietly. “I never wanted you to feel all of that pain, I only wanted to protect you, I still do feel this need to protect you.”
“I guess some things never change.” She whispered before she left the room, closing the door behind her. Y/N knew in that moment they would do everything they could to keep her safe, to protect her, they knew that in that moment, they were exactly where they needed to be.
#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff#marvel#elizabeth olsen#elizabeth olsen x reader#wanda x you#wanda x reader#natasha romanoff
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Took you Like a Shot - final part preview!
Pairings- Rich Frat/fuckboi Toru x Preppy Sorority reader
Warnings - oral (m receiving) and domestic fluff, basically them being fucking cute lol
I can't believe this cute ass fun little story is ending! With some of my angstier things this was like such a delight. Ending will be out by the weekend <3
Satoru Gojo didn’t plan on proposing while you were sucking his dick.
He really didn’t!
He was waiting for your date in a couple of weeks, waiting for you to get the clear and fully recover, waiting for you both to not be exhausted zombies with a newborn who’s crying every couple hours. Waiting for the perfect moment, the right moment like your friends suggested - when you felt more yourself.
Currently your hair is in a messy bun, you have eye bags, and you’re wearing a big tee shirt of his with stains on it from where your milk poured just too much from your nipples, but you were too tired to care. But he has never found you hotter than when you’d turned over at four am, sleepy and gasping when he kissed your neck, only to somehow pin him to the bed and suck him.
You hadn’t expected it either, you all can’t have sex just yet, but when his hard length had pressed up against your ass, and you just touching it made him whimper, you were dying to please him. Satoru has alternated every turn with you, bringing you Miyuki so you could rest in bed while you fed her, taking bottles you pumped and helping do everything.
He’s been perfect.
You’ve both been tired, you’re so thankful he took time off work to help you, only leaving for a bit to oversee things, you couldn’t ask for a better partner, and you fall deeper in love with every sleepy moment shared. How could you not want to at least get him off, you’re feeling much more yourself, you’re already horny again, and kisses soon turned to more.
Now you’re deep throating his cock, his hand entangles in the mess that is your loose bun, gripping so tightly while he whimpers. You taste him, just a little salty but still so sweet, as his precum drags along your tongue. He’s murmuring - wanna be inside you, fuck baby, your mouth it feels so- mmm! - just urging you on, bobbing up and down his pretty cock slowly, savoring every moment.
“Marry me.”
You pull back, wondering if you’re so tired you’re delusional, strings of saliva dripping off your lips against his tip.
“Huh!?”
“Shit… also keep sucking me, please?” He pouts now, whining as he grips the base of his cock, rubbing it on your lips, but you’re leaned up, eyes wide as saucers as you look at him.
“Was that some… joke or…”
Satoru sighs, fucking your mouth again, whining out, he’s so sensitive. “No joke, been wanting to ask y-you… oh fuck.”
“Wait, really?” You pull back again, stroking him slowly, thumb pressing over his leaking tip, watching his white lashes flutter, his abdomen tense, while his hand moves to cup your face in the night. “Satoru, are you proposing to me mid blow job?”
“You give really amazing blowjobs. I should be mad about how you’re that good, actually.” He glares now, earning your giggle when he sits up just a bit, leaning over to the drawer, and that is when it all becomes too real, when you see his muscles flex, see the box in his hand.
“Satoru…” You’re trembling, as he sighs, sitting up as you get on your knees, heart pounding in your ears.
Was Satoru really proposing to you - looking like a whole fucking disaster - with precum on your lips!?
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Like Real People Do

Pairing: Gyuvin x Reader
Summary: You find yourself falling for the cute boy whose writing assignments you proofread, and discover that your lives have been intertwined for longer than you thought.
Tropes: tutor!reader, basketball player!gyuvin, writers, soulmates, college AU, fluff
Word Count: 1.4k
Warnings: literally none it’s so cute
A/N: This is a formal apology for my Beomgyu angst <3
“And isn't it just so pretty to think All along there was some Invisible string Tying you to me?” —Invisible String, Taylor Swift
Gyuvin certainly doesn’t need any help with English, but it gives him a good excuse to spend time in between classes and basketball practice staring at you.
If anything, your talents would be better suited to helping one of his classmates understand all the old poems or crazy novels that they get assigned, but he’s the one who lucked out when your former professor suggested you read her most promising student’s work.
From the first draft, you were hooked, and had somehow started a writer’s circle where just the two of you meet weekly to share your works in progress.
In no time, you’ve helped Gyuvin become one of the top students in Writing 101, and he’s worried you’ll notice that he’d be just fine if you stopped helping him. Still, the A’s keep rolling in and you keep meeting up with him anyway.
When Gyuvin’s latest short story gets nominated for a departmental prize, you’re over the moon for him.
“You are so amazing,” you smile up at him. “We should celebrate! That’s a really big deal. I was nominated last year, but didn’t come close to winning.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you,” he points out, looking down at the ground and rubbing the back of his neck. “Really, Y/N. If I win, it would be just as much your prize as it would be mine.”
“Don’t be silly,” you say, packing up the rest of your lunch. You usually only see him in the library at your designated meeting time, but today, he sought you out in the courtyard to make sure you were the first person he told. “I’m just the editor. All of the ideas came from you. Plus, I’m only good at English because I grew up speaking it. It’s much more impressive for you to have learned it recently and write at the level that you do.”
“You don’t give yourself enough credit, Y/N,” he replies, helping you up off your picnic blanket. Before you can do it yourself, he’s already reaching down to fold it, his long arms handling the fabric with ease. “You’d write circles around me any day.”
“I don’t want to get into another compliment war,” you giggle, swinging your backpack over your shoulder. Recently, it’s been filled with way too many books, and your classes are so jam-packed that you never have time to run back to your room in between them.
“Here, Y/N, let me,” he says, taking your backpack from you. He’s already got his own on, but he wears yours over his front, barely even flinching at the extra weight. “Where are you headed next? I’m done with my classes for the day, so I can walk you.”
He’s always been desperate to ask you to hang out outside of your brainstorming sessions, but every time he thinks he’s worked up the courage, you’ll laugh or smile or even just glance at him and his brain short circuits.
“I have a music class across campus in thirty minutes,” you reply. “Don’t you live the other way, though? You really don’t have to walk me. It’s pretty far.”
“I want to,” Gyuvin reassures you. He offers his hand. “Here. I walk pretty fast, so let’s make sure I don’t leave you behind.”
You hesitate for a moment before taking it. You’ve had a crush on Gyuvin ever since the two of you first crossed paths—he’s the literal embodiment of sunshine trapped inside a cute boy—but things have only ever been friendly between the two of you.
His hand is big, wrapping itself around yours almost entirely. The walk is silent, although you swear you can hear your heart about to beat out of your chest as you pull him along your usual route. Gyuvin makes sure to always let you lead.
“You know,” you start, still not looking back at him. “We’re kind of like Orpheus and Eurydice right now.”
Gyuvin lights up at the reference, with mythology being one of the first things you two really bonded over. “If you looked back at me, the only thing I’d probably die of is how cute you are, Y/N.”
You’re glad you’re turned away so he can’t see the bright blush that’s spread across your cheeks. His words get you so flustered that you don’t even notice you’ve stopped walking.
“Did I say something wrong?” Gyuvin asks, his voice laced with concern. He moves to face you, your height difference causing him to crane his neck down. Meanwhile, your gaze is locked on your shoes.
“Gyuvin,” you say, still refusing to meet his eye. You pull him over to a nearby bench. “Remember when I said I liked the love story you wrote the other day?”
“Yeah, I remember,” he confirms. “You complimented me on how realistic it was and I told you it was only because I based it off of real life.”
“Was it…” your words catch in your throat, unable to face the embarrassment of if you’re wrong. “Was it about us?”
“Yes,” he admits almost immediately. You finally turn to face him, greeted by a nervous look. “Listen, Y/N. I only wrote it because I knew you’d read it, and I thought maybe if you saw how good characters that were a lot like us could be together, you’d give me a chance in real life. But you didn’t really notice, or maybe you just wanted to ignore it, so I kind of abandoned all hope of us ever being together.”
You blink back at him. How could you be so oblivious? Your entire major was based on analyzing words, and you couldn’t even see that he wanted to be with you so badly that he had to write it into existence.
Words always come easy to you, except at this very moment.
“You abandoned all hope?” is all you can manage to get out. You try to pull your hand away, but he only grips it tighter.
“I tried,” Gyuvin says, his voice soft. “But you’re all I ever think about. I honestly don’t think I’ll ever be capable of writing someone who even comes close to how wonderful I think you are, Y/N. There just aren’t words to describe all the ways in which you’re special to me.”
You laugh, his words making tears well up in your eyes. “You know, I used to go to basketball games a lot before we even met, just so I wouldn’t have to feel so lonely all the time. And I remember liking your smile and the way you always encouraged your teammates. I would go home and wish I had someone like you in my life.”
“You’re kidding,” he says, taking out his wallet. You knit your brows in confusion, watching as he pulls out a small piece of paper and unfolds it. “Here.”
He hands it to you and your eyes widen at the words printed out. It’s the poem that you had published in the school’s literary magazine last spring about wanting to romanticize your life. Talking about your feelings makes you anxious, but nobody reads those publications. Except for Gyuvin, apparently.
“I liked you before we even met, too,” Gyuvin confesses. “Your poem is actually the reason I got into writing in the first place. I used to read it before all of my games, but I know all the words by heart now, so I just keep it in my wallet for good luck.”
This all feels too good to be true, but his touch keeps you grounded in reality.
“Maybe I should start coming to basketball games again, then,” you think out loud. “I stopped going because I felt awkward not knowing anybody.”
“Well, now you’d know me, and I’ll make sure the whole team gets to know you, too, okay?” The way he smiles at you, his eyes so full of light, takes your breath away.
“Really?” you ask, looking at him in disbelief. The thought of meeting so many new people at the same time scares you, but if Gyuvin likes them, you’re sure you will too.
“On one condition,” he says, closing the gap between the two of you. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his hand settling on your cheek. “I get to introduce you as my girlfriend.”
“Deal,” you grin, inching closer until your lips are pressed against his. You’re nervous that he’ll somehow figure out that you’ve only ever read about kissing in books, but the way he melts into you tells you that he doesn’t mind.
“You’re going to be late for class,” Gyuvin reminds you, pulling away. He desperately wants to keep going, but not at the expense of your grades.
“Class can wait,” you say, leaning in for another kiss. Your fingers lace themselves through his soft, messy hair. “I said we’d celebrate your nomination, so let’s celebrate.”
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spell jars 101 ✧

how to craft a spell jar:
cleanse your jar
gather your ingredients
charge and program them, and then add them to the jar
close and seal with wax, ribbon, string, etc. to finalize and cast the spell
decorate your jar however you'd like, or not at all - up to you
what you can use as a jar:
tiny glass jars with cork lids
mason jars
pickle/pasta sauce jars
old medication bottles
food storage containers
bead storage tubes
what you can add to a spell jar:
dried herbs
dried citrus peels
dried flowers
magical powders
small crystals
gem chips
essential oils (a drop or two will go a long way)
infused oils (carrier oils such as olive or grapeseed oil that have been infused with herbs)
a few drops of charged water (storm water, war water, sea water, holy water, rain water, moon water, sun water, etc.)
paper (with sigils/symbols/glyphs drawn on it, an incantation, a name, a phrase, etc.)
coins
beads
glitter or confetti
seashells/shark teeth/sand, etc.
leaves/acorns/sticks/bark/moss
animal fur, nail clippings, teeth, or whiskers that have fallen out naturally (if i catch you trying to pull out your pet's whiskers or fur, i will fight you)
nails, glass, pins, needles, thorns, and other sharp objects (great for cursing, binding, banishing, or protection)
vinegar, lemon juice, pickle juice (mostly for “souring” a situation)
honey, sugar, syrup (to “sweeten” a situation or for attraction)
pretty much anything that fits and corresponds to your intent
what you should avoid putting in a spell jar:
unless your intent correlates with the contents of the jar spoiling or going bad - don't use anything biological in nature (think bodily fluids), don't use fresh produce or herbs, and be mindful of water content inside the jar. you don't want a moldy, biohazardous mess on your hands (unless you do, then that's cool, too).
what spell jars are good for:
containing your spell, theoretically making it easier to manipulate and control
manifesting goals/intentions continuously or over time
passive manifestation that doesn’t require much ongoing participation from the caster but is subject to regular maintenance
what to do with your spell jar once it’s been crafted:
keep it on your altar
keep it in an area that's appropriate for goal manifestation (for glamours, keep it in the bathroom; for sleep or dreams, keep it in the bedroom; for safe travels, keep it in your vehicle; for cursing, keep it concealed in a black box; etc.)
wear it as jewelry
put it in your pocket, purse, or backpack
bury it in your backyard or within a potted plant outside (for spells you don’t plan to undo or want to last indefinitely) - if burying is not an option, hide it somewhere on your property
leave it at a crossroads
recharging spell jars:
shake it up
light a candle on top of or next to it
submerge it in a bath of herbs or crystals that are associated with energy
submerge or surround with sea salt (a natural conductor of energy)
anoint with oil/blessed or charged water
pair with a tarot card or rune stone that matches your intent
suffumigate with incense smoke
energy work and visualization
disposing of and reversing spell jars - when you feel like the spell has done its job or you need to undo its effects:
remove the contents from the jar and either destroy them, bury them, or throw them away
for items you wish to save, cleanse them thoroughly before using them again
take the jar and cleanse it in whatever manner you choose and either save it to be reused; or dispose of it safely
© 2025 bunny-claws
#witchblr#witchy#witch#witchcraft#witches of tumblr#spell jars#magic#spellcasting#spell crafting#bunny-claws
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