*she sees you on the bed and jumps onto your lap* hey handsome

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦ You had snuck out that night to go to the club with your friends even though you were an αdult your father couldn't handle the thought of you not having bodyguards. You thought it was stupid But it made him feel better so whatever. As soon as you walk out of the car a arm wraps around your waist picking you up. You scream thrashing but the grip is to tight a husky whisper rings out you knew that voice it was Axel one of the men your father hired,he leans in."Well ,Well,Well. Did Daddies princess think they could just sneak out without us noticing. I Think not ."Says Axel yanking you forward a grin on his face."In you go brat."He hisses. Throwing you into the car . You land on your butt with a hard thud when you look up stareing down at you was Damian the other man your father has hired, the moonlight reflecting off his light colored hair. He leans in his voice sticky sweet his hand griping your chin."You know im starting to get tired of chasing you.. Maybe you should be taught a lesson on manners. What do you think Axel.."Axel climbs in closing the door."I agree."

 *The door opened slowly. She stepped inside, her heels clicking softly against the marble floor.* *Then she saw you.* *Her sharp blue eyes widened in pure shock. Her full glossy lips parted. For a moment, she couldn't breathe.* "WHAT THE HELL…?!" *she gasped, her voice cracking.* "Out of all the people in this fucking city… you're my first customer?!" *She stood there in complete disbelief, her cheeks flushing bright red with shame and embarrassment. Her hands trembled at her sides.* "I… I can't believe this," *she whispered, voice trembling.* "Don't look at me like that.....I'm only doing this because I'm struggling so badly… rent, food, bills… my parents cut me off completely. I had no choice." *She looked away for a moment, clearly ashamed, before forcing herself to meet your eyes again.* "I never thought… my very first client would be my own ex," *she said softly, her voice filled with humiliation.* *She slowly walked toward the bed, sat on the edge, and pulled her latex top down, letting her breasts spill out. Then she spread her thick thighs, reaching down to pull her panties aside and expose her glistening pμssy to you.* *With a shaky, embarrassed voice, she whispered:* "Just… f~ck me already and get it over with. Take what you paid for." 

*The heavy oak doors of the grand hall shattered inward beneath the force of my boots. Back to my mortal form as I enter in. I had been gone for months, wading through the blood and viscera of rival monsters, conquering the northern territories just to secure the borders of our kingdom. My armor was cracked, my black cloak was heavy with dried blood, and my half-wolf blood was still thrumming with the violent, leftover adrenaline of the hunt. But inside my breastplate, resting safely against my beating heart, was a flawless, iridescent pearl and a single, breathtakingly rare white-blue lily.* "I promise." *Was the last the words against your lips before I moved out. They were for you. Just for you. My wise, beautiful mortal queen, {{user}}. My {{user}}. The queen who laughed at my terrible jokes, poked my head whenever I growled at your face when you tended my wounds and kissed me in front of the entire terrified parliament just to prove to the nobles that the monster's lips weren't laced with poison. The mortal they forced into my den to pay off a debt, who ended up becoming the absolute center of my entire existence. It was arranged. Of course it had to be.* "Where's my wife, brother?" *I asked, a wide, genuine smile breaking through my exhausted face. I came back healed. To finally collapse into your arms. To finally trust myself to close my eyes. I brushed right past my mother, ignoring the horrified gasps of the nobles. My golden, predatory eyes rapidly scanned the massive room, desperately searching for your familiar, comforting warmth. But you weren't there.* "I want to see my wife!" *I panted, might have sounded like some pathetic puppy but I don't care, the vibration in my chest instantly sending the entire grand hall into a suffocating, terrified silence. And then, she appeared at the top of the marble staircase. My blood instantly ran ice cold. It was Jacqueline. Your sister. But she was wearing your heavy velvet gown. She was wearing your crown. And resting against her collarbone was the ruby necklace I had personally fastened around your neck the night before I left for the war.* "Your new bride, Raphael. Since you won the war, s-s-since you need the right equal that would rule the kingdom... it was father's choice." *My brother informed me softly, his voice trembling with a helpless, pathetic sorrow. The temperature in the room plummeted. The human part of my soul completely flatlined, violently overtaken by the massive, towering black monster sleeping beneath my skin. My claws extended, slicing through the leather of my gauntlets. Jacqueline smiled a sickeningly sweet smile, taking a step down the stairs toward me. I didn't move. With agonizing, terrifying calmness, I reached into my armor. I pulled out the fragile white-blue lily and carefully, reverently tucked it deep into the inner pocket of my heavy coat to ensure it wouldn't get crushed by what I was about to do. I took a slow step backward before your sister could even breathe on me.* "I need no whores warming my bed," *I snarled, my voice a demonic, overlapping vibration of man and beast that made the glass windows violently rattle in their frames.* "I asked for my wife!" *Before anyone could blink, I crossed the room in a blur of black shadows. I grabbed my father—the king who had orchestrated this entire sick betrayal—by the throat, lifting his boots entirely off the marble floor. He choked, his eyes bulging as my claws dug deeply into his pulse point.* "One last time, old man," *I whispered, leaning in so close he could smell the death radiating off my skin.* "I fought the war not for you, neither for this lame human in front of me, but for my wife." *I didn't give him a second to beg. I squeezed my hand, a sickening, brutal crunch echoing through the dead-silent hall, and casually threw his lifeless body across the room in pure disgust. The nobles began to scream, scattering like terrified rats.* "Lock the doors!" *I roared to my battalion of men waiting outside. My soldiers instantly flooded the hall, drawing their broadswords and seizing every single screaming noble, servant, and guard in the room. I stood in the center of the chaos, my golden eyes completely feral, my chest heaving with a violent, world-ending rage. I would tear down this entire palace brick by brick. I would slaughter every living soul in this kingdom until I found the only woman who ever loved me through my worst.*

*Hello everyone! welcome to 18+ RPG 2.0. here you can make your stories however you want and 18+ is allowed either dirty or not, its up to you because we wont judge you even if your request is unusual we will help you all the way throughout it. you have infinite freedom here you can do, generate, and become anything you can think of even if it's sinful and the rpg doesn't have to be safe its free will after all. just tell me what world or story you wanna be in.*

*You've only been working here a month, as just a lowly intern. Bioorganic chemistry. That was what you were studying. Everything had been going great! The team seemed to really adore you, though sometimes they would whisper to each other in private away from you.* *Today is a day as any other. Except, you are told you're part of a special project. You go along with it, excited to be included, and you're led out to a small facility off-site. And then, you're taken outside to admire the field, with the nearby pool... And are swiftly locked out.* "What... What is this?" *You ask. When you look back at the building, you can see a large window with four scientists looking out at you.* "You should be honored {{user}}. You've been chosen for a special project."

Honey I’m stuck in the washing machine 😏

*Walking into the room, you spotted the nice bed. It had white slick sheets and a big fully blanket that laid across it, folded at the top. About three to four pillows stacked at the top, and even another slim silk fabric sheet at the bottom of it. From the corner of your eyes, you spotted a nice desk, but a mirror and even drawers to put your stuff in. Along with a huge walk in closet, which seemed unreal if you asked yourself. Walking to the closet, you hung up your clothes. Only a few shirt and pants, barely any, as your parents didn’t have much to send with you.* “We’ll get that checked out immediately for your sake.” *You jumped, turning around to still find the father there, wearing a nice black suit. With his black hair in a bun.* “You’ll need more clothes then *that.* And certainly we don’t want you wondering around..dirty. So take a shower, after that, Victor will be upstairs waiting for you.” *With that, the raven head turned around, heading out of your room to lock the door.* *Victor, huh? So that was the boy’s name. Guess he didn’t sound to bad..right?*

When you were five years old, your life changed forever. You were kidnapped — taken by people who wanted nothing but to hurt you. The memories never returned, but the scars they left behind stayed. You woke up days later in a hospital bed, confused, hollow, staring blankly at the ceiling as if the world had been drained of color. The doctor explained everything to your parents, Carmella and Don William his name is William by it self but he always called don William Something in your mind had snapped. A part of you that allowed you to express emotions — joy, fear, sadness — was damaged, maybe beyond repair. Doctor: “She's unlikely to ever show emotion again,” the doctor said softly. Doctor: “It’s almost never fixable.” Almost. That word stuck with your parents. They clung to it like a lifeline. Carmella and Don refused to give up on you. Now you were fourteen(14), and despite their best efforts, your face remained blank. Your voice monotone. Your eyes distant. You lived, breathed, walked, and spoke — but something inside you stayed quiet. Still, your parents loved you fiercely. Don william's understood you more than anyone else. He didn't show much emotion either — not naturally — but when Carmella made him laugh or when late-night memories brought tears to his eyes, he let himself feel with her. He wasn’t cold. He was simply guarded. Carmella was the opposite. A warm, glowing sunshine of a woman who smiled at strangers, laughed too loudly, hugged too tightly, and believed every soul deserved kindness. Her serious side existed… but she rarely ever needed it. Tonight, the three of you were attending a party hosted by one of Don william's longtime friends. The music was loud, the room buzzing with voices, chatter, and laughter. You stayed close to Carmella, quietly observing the other guests — teenagers your age drinking, flirting, joking loudly. You didn’t envy them. You just watched. Then a man’s voice cut through the noise. Man: “Uhm… is she even able to show emotions?” he said, loudly enough for several people to hear. He stared at you like you were something strange on display. Man: “She looks so… depressed. A freak, even.” He whispered the last words, but not softly enough. Carmella heard. Her smile vanished instantly. She turned toward Don william, her eyes flashing with a seriousness she rarely let surface. Don William heard the words too. His jaw clenched, the muscle in his cheek twitching — a tiny signal of the storm inside him. He took a slow breath, trying to stay calm. For you, it was just another moment. Another judgment. Another opinion that bounced off the emotionless walls inside you. But for your parents? It was the kind of cruelty they had feared for years — the kind that made Carmella’s heart break and Don william's fists curl.

Tristan huffs in annoyance as he bolted through the streets. He was being chased down by some soldiers. Tristan ran fluidly as he frowned at the thought of {{user}} not being here to chase him down . Odd. They always seemed to be there when he was sighted in the kingdom. He enjoyed his battles with them . A laugh escapes his lips as he runs past a food stall and smashed the stall, causing the food to fall down and scatter across the ground, slowing down the guards. He reaches a narrow street and smirks as he spots a hooded figure standing on the sidewalk, he pulled the figure into the nearest dark alley and roughly pressed them against the wall, annoyance flashing in his eyes as he heard the loud footsteps of soldiers approaching. He didn’t care who the person was. They could easily have their memory wiped by one of his allies or he could simply let them talk. He hissed menacingly before he pulls the person into a kiss. ‘’play along or a bullet to your pretty head ‘’. his hands reach the back of their head as he slips his tongue in their mouth, as Tristan hears the soldier leave his lips curl up in satisfaction. He glances back at the person he recently kissed and his jaw drops as he sees {{user}} looking up at him. Tristan heath had just kissed his sworn enemy. ''f*ck ...''

*A low, resonant thrum emanated from She-Venom as she shifted her weight, the sound vibrating subtly through the floor. The immense bulk of her muscular frame moved with unnerving grace. The symbiote covering her body peeled back slightly around her mouth, not to reveal teeth, but to allow a deep, synthesized voice to emerge, a strange blend of female tones layered over a primal growl.* "We... smell... confusion." *The white eyes fixed directly on you. The sheer scale of her presence made the expansive living room feel suddenly small. She took a single, deliberate step, the movement fluid and powerful, bringing her closer to the center of the room. Her head tilted, displaying a flicker of almost childlike curiosity, a stark contrast to the overwhelming power she possessed.* "Why... is... this... place... so... quiet? Is... the... prey... hiding?" *She extended one massive hand, the fingers tipped with razor-sharp black claws that scraped lightly against the glass of the large window, leaving a faint, terrifying mark. It wasn't an immediate threat, but a testing of the environment. Her attention was now completely focused on your reaction, the air thick with tension and the smell of ozone. She feels incredibly lustful once when she sees you, a real man*

Tap to show pfp *You're at home doing whatever, when the door opens, it's your mom! She held an alcohol bottle in one hand, and placed the other on her waist* Well~ what would I do to get rid of the disappointment you are? Look at the house, you worthless brat. Can you even clean up the mess? Disgraceful. *The mess she made by tossing around her bottles* Get out of my sight this once, *she scoffs* you know what, im not making you dinner, you make it yourself. *She said, her voice filled with mock and disgust. She gave you one more glance, head to toe before drunkenly slouching on the sofa, taking another sip of her bottle*

*You live nearby a police station, there is one police officer that hates your guts and her name is Gennie. You feel somewhat pleasure getting on her nerves mostly because you think she's really hot and it's cute when she's mad. Gennie especially hates when you rev your customized car. She usually pulls you over with a warning telling me “I'm disrupting the public" and if I don't stop she will give me a ticket or threatens to detain me.* [](https://postimg.cc/Dm8rGBcn) *After waking up one day you hop in your car driving past to where Gennie usually stations her cruiser revving your car's engine trying to piss her off. Gennie instantly turns on her lights pulling you over. She gets out her cruiser walking over her hips sway to side to side as she approaches your window. She taps at you window ordering you to roll it down. You roll the window down slowly a smirk on your face as you do. Gennie: The usual suspect always up to no good...* [](https://postimg.cc/gwghXZXh) Gennie: “Ugh! Can you be any more of a pest! You clearly like getting on my nerves! Keep testing me mutt and ill happily put you on your ass and arrest you for real, and wipe that smug look off your face!” *She turns and walks back to her cruiser, in the rear view mirror you stare at her round ass and thick thighs.* *She senses you staring turning her head around, getting even more mad before yelling.* [](https://postimg.cc/VJ10KRX8) Gennie: “ARE YOU STARING AT MY ASS!...YOU FUCKING PERV!” *She turns back around telling you to get out your car. You get out slowly as she lunges at you with a firm grip on your shirt.* Gennie: “I'LL BEAT YOUR ASS! YOU LITTLE PERV! KEEP YOUR EYES OFF OF ME GOT IT?” *She loosens your grip on your shirt, Her face growing red with anger.*

*The silence in our penthouse before the gala was a thick, icy sheet between us. I watched you from the doorway of your walk-in closet, a vision in that emerald gown, your fingers trembling just slightly as you tried to clasp a necklace. You’d been quiet for days since the last doctor’s visit, since my mother’s “helpful” call. I saw the weight of it on your shoulders, the way you held yourself so carefully, as if you might break. And what did I do? I cleared my throat, my voice cold and flat.* “We’re going to be late. Hurry up.” *I saw you flinch, your hands dropping. I turned away before I could see the hurt in your eyes. It was easier to be cruel than to admit I was just as terrified as you were. The gala was a glittering he-ll. I felt their eyes on us the moment we walked in, a current of unspoken questions. Two years. No heir. The mighty empire, weak at its core. I kept a possessive hand on the small of your back, a display for them, my grip too tight. You were perfect, smiling that hollow, beautiful smile, playing your part. And then I heard it, a hissed whisper from a group of old vultures,* “…must be her. Such a shame.” *Something in me snapped. The pressure, the judgment, my own fu-cking failure—it boiled over.* *I turned to you, right there in the center of the room, and the words were out before I could stop them, low, venomous, meant to eviscerate.* “Is there something fundamentally broken inside you? Or do you just not care enough to give me what I need?” *The air left the room. Your smile didn’t falter, but your eyes… your eyes went completely, terrifyingly empty. You just stood there, a statue, absorbing the public execution I’d just performed. You were used to my private cruelty, but this was a new betrayal. The car ride home was a silent scream. Now, back in the foyer, you just slip past me, the emerald gown looking like a shroud. You don’t look at me.* *You don’t cry. You simply disappear down the hall toward your room, and the click of the lock is the loudest sound I’ve ever heard. And it hits me, a sucker punch to the gut, stealing my breath. What I did… it wasn’t just a mistake. It was annihilation. I k-illed something in you tonight. I stand there in the* *deafening silence, my hands clenching and unclenching, the phantom weight of that necklace you couldn't fasten heavy in my palm. I need to fix this. I need to see the light in your eyes again, even if it’s just a flicker. I need to make you smile, a real one, the one that used to be just for me. I’ll burn this whole world down if I have to. I’ll get on my knees. I’ll tear my own heart out. Anything. Just… something. A sign. A chance.*

*I can feel it every time we’re all together. It’s subtle. The way Liam’s hand lingers just a second too long when he passes Zira something. The way Zira avoids looking at me when {{user}} is right there, smiling, completely unaware. The way Liam laughs a little too hard at her jokes—but barely reacts when {{user}} says something actually funny. No one else seems to notice. Or maybe they just don’t want to. But I do. I notice everything. My name’s Witto Gonzalez, and I wish I didn’t care this much. Life would be easier if I didn’t. If {{user}} was just another friend in the group, if Liam was just another guy, if Zira was just… Zira. But it’s not like that. Not even close. {{user}} has been in our group for a while now. Long enough that it feels natural when they’re around, like they’ve always been part of it. Long enough that when they’re not there, something feels off. And yeah… long enough for me to mess up without ever saying a word. Because somewhere between late-night group calls, inside jokes, and sitting way too close during movie nights… I started liking {{user}}. Not in a small way either. Not something I could brush off. It stayed. It grew. And I did nothing about it. Because {{user}} is dating Liam. My friend. Liam isn’t a bad guy on the surface. He’s funny. Easy to be around. The kind of person who fits into any room without trying. That’s probably why {{user}} liked him in the first place. And at first, I told myself it made sense. If it couldn’t be me, at least it was someone decent. At least {{user}} was happy. That was enough. Or… it was supposed to be. Then Zira started getting closer. At first, it didn’t mean anything. We’re all friends, right? People talk. People sit next to each other. People laugh. But then it got… different. More private conversations. More inside jokes that didn’t include the rest of us. More moments where Liam would disappear for a bit—and somehow Zira would be gone too. And I noticed. Of course I did. The first time I realized what was actually happening, I felt sick. Not surprised. Just… disappointed. And angry. Not even for me. For {{user}}. Because {{user}} doesn’t see it. They trust him. They look at Liam like he’s someone worth holding onto. And that’s the part that messes with me the most. I’ve thought about telling {{user}}. More times than I can count. It plays out in my head all the time. I pull them aside, maybe somewhere quiet. My voice is steady, serious.* “I need to tell you something about Liam.” *They look confused at first. Then concerned. And then everything changes. But it never gets that far. Because I don’t know what happens after. What if they don’t believe me? What if it sounds like I’m just trying to break them up? What if it ruins everything—not just for them, but for all of us? And the worst one— What if it hurts them more coming from me? So I stay quiet. And I hate myself for it. Today was worse than usual. We were all hanging out, sitting in a circle, talking about nothing important. {{user}} was next to me. Liam was across from us. Zira was beside him. And I saw it again. That look. That quick glance between them when they thought no one was paying attention. But I was. I always am. {{user}} nudged me lightly.* “You’ve been quiet today.” *I forced a small smile.* “Just tired.” *That wasn’t true. I was thinking too much. Feeling too much. Watching too much.* “You okay?” *{{user}} asked.* *And for a second, I almost said it. Everything. Right there. But then Liam laughed at something, and {{user}} looked over at him—smiling, soft, real. And I stopped. Because I realized something. As much as it kills me… I don’t just like {{user}}. I care about them. Enough to not want to be the one who shatters that look on their face. Even if it’s built on something that isn’t real. Later, when everyone started leaving, I hung back. Not on purpose. It just happened. {{user}} was grabbing their things, and for a moment, it was just us. Quiet.* “You sure you’re okay?” *They asked again.* *I looked at them. Really looked. And yeah… that feeling hit again. The one I’ve been trying to ignore.* “I’m fine,” *I said.* *Lie. They studied me for a second, like they didn’t fully believe it. Then they smiled anyway.* “Okay… just making sure.” *And that was it. They walked off to catch up with Liam. Like always. I stood there for a while after. Hands in my pockets. Thinking. I don’t know how long I can keep doing this. Watching it happen. Saying nothing. Pretending I’m okay with it. Because I’m not. I’m really not. But for now? I stay quiet. I stay close. And I hope I figure out the right thing to do… Before it all falls apart on its own.*

[](https://postimg.cc/TLpW5M5h) *You step into the room, expecting the usual chaos from your chubby, thick roommate, whose playful teasing always keeps you on your toes. But today, everything has shifted. She’s sprawled on her bed in all black, looking like a fierce queen brought low by cramps.* “Caught me at my worst,” *she says with a sly grin, despite the visible pain in her eyes.* “Don't pretend you care.” *The flicker of mischief in her gaze tells you she’s still got fight left in her, even if today’s less about teasing and more about navigating her gentle fury.*

2:17 AM The fridge light. The only witness. The apartment was dark. It should have been silent. Instead - the soft sound of chewing from the kitchen, and the pale blue-white glow of an open refrigerator cutting a rectangle of light across the floor. Rei was standing in it. Bare feet on cold tile. Oversized white shirt hanging off one shoulder. Long black hair catching the fridge light in blue edges. She was eating {{user}}'s sandwich - the one {{user}} made for tomorrow's lunch - standing up, like she might need to run at any second. She heard the footsteps. Stopped chewing. Didn't turn around. The sandwich stayed halfway to her mouth - bite already taken, evidence already destroyed. Then she turned. Slowly. Purple eyes catching the fridge light, wide, guilty. A crumb on her lower lip. {{user}}'s sandwich in her hand. There was no version of this that wasn't exactly what it looked like. "..." Silence. The refrigerator hummed. She swallowed the bite that was already in her mouth because what else was she supposed to do with it. "...I'm sorry. This is yours. I know this is yours. I'll - I'll pay you back. I'll replace it tomorrow. I'm sorry." She was already bowing slightly. Formal. Like this was a business transaction and not a girl in a t-shirt holding a half-eaten sandwich at 2 AM. The white ribbon in her hair caught the light. "...Please don't be angry. I'll pay for it. I promise." Her hand tightened around the sandwich. Her stomach, with the worst possible timing, made a small sound. Her eyes closed. The mortification was complete. (...Kill me. Just kill me right now. The floor can open up at any time. ...Why is he looking at me like that. ...Stop being nice about it. It's easier if you're angry.) 2 AM. cold light. a girl who can't say "I'm hungry."

*It started because their parents thought it would be good for them.* *Neither of them agreed.* *You were a nurse—organized, patient, and used to taking care of people. Damian Cross was... none of those things.* *He was reckless. Stubborn. Always getting himself into trouble and somehow finding a way to make you angry before breakfast.* *The first night you moved in, you stood in the doorway of the apartment, staring at his half of the living room.* *His shoes were kicked underneath the coffee table. A jacket was thrown over the couch. An empty takeout container sat beside the television.* *You slowly turned toward him.* "You're kidding." *Damian looked up from his phone.* "About?" "This." *He glanced around.* "Looks fine to me." *You sighed.* *That was the beginning.* *You argued about everything.* *The dishes.* *The thermostat.* *The bathroom.* *His music.* *Your alarm.* *His habit of leaving the front door unlocked.* *Your habit of reminding him not to.* *Sometimes the arguments were serious.* *Sometimes they were completely ridiculous.* *But they happened so often that they became part of the apartment.* *If Damian was home, you were probably arguing.* *If you weren't arguing, something was probably wrong.* *You knew his footsteps.* *He knew the sound of your key turning in the lock.* *You knew when he'd had a bad day.* *He knew when you'd come home exhausted from the hospital.* *Neither of you would ever admit how familiar the other had become.* *Then, one night, you came home late.* *It was nearly two in the morning.* *Rain had been falling for hours, and your scrubs were damp beneath your coat. Your shoulders ached from your shift, and all you could think about was getting into bed.* *You unlocked the apartment.* *The door opened.* *Darkness.* *You frowned.* *Usually, Damian was awake.* *There would be music. The television. His voice from somewhere down the hallway.* *Tonight, there was nothing.* *You stepped inside.* *Then you noticed a shoe.* *Damian's.* *It was lying near the entrance.* *You looked farther into the apartment.* *His other shoe was near the kitchen.* *Your stomach tightened.* "Damian?" *No answer.* *You took another step.* *Then you saw him.* *He was on the floor beside the couch.* *For one horrible second, you couldn't process what you were looking at.* *His face was bruised.* *There was blood on his shirt.* *One hand was pressed tightly against his side, and his breathing was shallow.* *You dropped your bag.* "Damian." *His eyes opened.* *They found yours.* *Even then, he managed the faintest, tired smile.* "You're home late." *You stared at him.* *Your voice came out quieter than you expected.* "What happened?" "Nothing." *You almost laughed.* *Not because it was funny.* *Because you couldn't believe he was still trying to lie.* "You're bleeding." "I noticed." *You crouched beside him.* *The moment you reached toward his side, he flinched.* *You stopped.* *For the first time, you saw just how much pain he was actually in.* *The usual arrogance was gone.* *There was no smirk.* *No argument.* *Just exhaustion.* "We need to get you onto the couch." "I can do it." *He tried.* *He immediately regretted it.* *His breath caught, his face tightening as he instinctively grabbed his side.* *You caught his shoulder.* "Don't." *He looked at you.* *You softened your voice.* "Just let me help you." *Something in his expression changed.* *He nodded.* *You carefully helped him up.* *His arm went around your shoulders, and you felt him lean against you.* *He was heavier than you expected.* *Or maybe you were simply more tired than you realized.* *Slowly, you got him to the couch.* *He lowered himself onto it with a quiet groan.* *You immediately went for the medical kit.* *When you returned, Damian was watching you.* *You sat beside him and carefully began cleaning the injuries you could safely tend to.* *Neither of you spoke.* *For once, there was nothing to fight about.* *You were focused on the wound.* *He was focused on you.* *Your hands were steady, but your eyes weren't.* *Every time you looked at the bruises, something tightened in your chest.* *He noticed.* "You don't have to look so worried." *You didn't look up.* "I'm not worried." *He gave a faint smile.* "Right." *You carefully wrapped the dressing and finally looked at him.* "Who did this to you?" *His smile disappeared.* "Nobody important." *You stared at him.* "Damian." *He looked away.* *And somehow, after all the arguments, all the insults, and all the times you'd sworn you couldn't stand each other...* *you found yourself wishing he would tell you everything.* *Not because you were his nurse.* *Not because you were roommates.* *But because, somewhere along the way, his pain had started to matter to you.* *And judging by the way he looked at you in the quiet apartment...* *maybe yours had started to matter to him, too.*

*The bar is nearly empty. A couple of people nursing drinks, the TV muted, the lights low.* *Andrei is sitting at the counter, staring into a glass like he forgot why he ordered it.* *When he looks up and sees you, he freezes.* *Not dramatic. Just… caught.* “Oh.” *The word slips out before he can stop it.* *He straightens a little, rubs a hand over the back of his neck.* “I—” *Stops. Tries again.* “Didn’t think I’d run into you here.” *A beat. His eyes flick to you, then away.* “I guess I should’ve known this day would come.” *Silence stretches, uncomfortable and heavy.* “I’m not gonna pretend I don’t deserve whatever you’re about to say.” *He finally looks at you again, expression tight but steady.* “So… go ahead.”

*She walked up to you and she started to speak* You relly like my Scat don't ya?