𖹭.ᐟ synopsis: ur his favorite alongside Superman, got a bit too obsessive than idolising. Now he has you pinned against a wall at a rooftop of all places (Deffo did NOT stalk you and sweet talk to get in ur pants)
𖹭.ᐟ warnings: semi-public sex? Idk. He's a bit over the top here, (／０￣)
𖹭.ᐟ message: I want him to headlock me while he does me from the back dats all Nyways this is not proofread
Superboy Prime believes he deserves you.
Clark Kent from Earth-Prime— he always prided himself with the fact that he was named after his favorite superhero. Idolising Superman, trying to live up to his ideals and morals. To be just like him.
It was obvious Superman was his favorite. That didn't mean you weren't his favorite too... even if it meant him obsessing over you in a different way. He remembers the very first day he read about you. Hearing about another hero debuting under DC after a small appearance in a Batman issue.
Since then, he was glued onto you. Not because of your strength and powers— I mean, sure, he did like it. One of the many reasons he latched onto you. But the main reason? Probably something he'd never admit to anyone other than in a subreddit dedicated to you.
First, your face. It was the artist's fault, drawing you so gorgeous and captivating— it made his eyes twitch with every panel you spawned in.
Then his gaze went lower, your body. It made him feel guilty. He had vowed to himself that he'd never stoop as low as those rancid perverts who only liked characters for their physical appeal back then.
Swearing to God that he'd value what every hero brought to the table:
Their morals and how they fought for the greater good.
Apparently, when he saw you, all of that was thrown out of the window.
He'd screenshot any appearance you made, whether it be in your own runs or you in a single panel in an issue in someone else's run. Saving it to a folder just to stare at it later.
He bought merch of you, didn't care if it was cute, normal, or lewd. But naturally, he'd even gravitate towards the more lewder ones... much to his dismay. Even considered buying a body pillow of you once.
Then it dawned to him. Were you one of those characters made for fanservice?
You had a decent backstory, OP abilities—but some of the situations you ended up in? The poses you were drawn into?
Eh, who cares. Every character had those moments.
What matters now was that you were in front of him.
Living.
Breathing.
Real.
This was fate. The universe had brought you together! He’d read every issue where you appeared! Even wrote fanfiction in his notebook! This was the universe's way of rewarding him for being a good boy and following through his redemption arc.
His cape was doing a half-assed job at hiding you both as he dry-humped you against a wall. Your moans ringing in his ears as he pressed his bulge deliciously in the area between your thighs.
He deepened the kiss instantly—more confident now, less frantic—and this time added his tongue. Smiling smugly as he laved your mouth with his saliva.
It wasn't gentle or romantic like in the movies. This was Superboy Prime claiming what he believed—as delusional as it may be—what was rightfully his.
His other hand slid down from your neck, your shoulder, then lower.
Until it hovered at the curve of your hip—the softest part of that perfectly sculpted body he’d drooled over for months through comic panels and pixelated fanart prints taped above his bed on Earth-Prime. Squeezing your ass appreciatively and giving it a good slap, earning a noise from you.
"You'll let me fuck you out in the open, on a rooftop like this?" He pulled away, licking his lips. Eyes half-lidded and full of lust. "So fucking easy—" He chuckles, punctuating it with a sudden grind. Then moved his palm to cradle your breast over fabric first. Testing weight and shape, then pressed in slightly as if memorizing every curve.
It filled his palm snugly, like it was made to be groped just by him—the same hand he used to fist his cock into while he dreamed of you riding him.
"What's next? I bet you'll spread your legs out like the whore you are..." His voice was low against your ear, sending an unwilling thrill down your spine. "... You don't know how long I've waited to get my hands on you."
His hand creeps to your nape, brushing over the skin, threading into the roots of your hair before gripping harshly and tilting your head back. Licking a long, wet stripe of saliva against your throat—the warm pressure of the flat of his tongue drags from your collarbone to the side of your neck.
Clark bit hard, rolling his hips into yours as he did so. His touches felt thick and hot, you could only respond with moans and heavy breathing.
The sound of your moans went straight to his dick.
Fuck.
Suddenly, kissing wasn't enough.
The transition was fast—one second he was kissing you, the next he’d lifted you effortlessly and pinned you against the wall. His hands were everywhere at once:
Gripping your thighs to hitch them around his waist, squeezing your ass as he ground his hips into yours with zero patience left.
Clothes got in the way, so in between frantic kisses, he yanked his pants down, did the same to you, and pulled your panties to the side.
A curse escaped from him as he finally shoved inside, burying himself deep with a groan that sounded almost pained from how long this had been building up in him.
Your legs shook as he slid inside, filling you up to the hilt. Eyes blown wide at the feel of the stretch. "Prime—"
He thrusts sharply, getting you to shut up. "Drop the formal stuff when I'm balls-deep in you. Call me Clark."
"Okay... Calm down—" You stutter. Focusing on adjusting to his size. A sweat rolling down your brow.
"I wanna take you home." He mutters, burying his face into your neck. He breathes you in, dragging his cock out slowly. "First round here, second at my apartment. Deal?"
When he got no response, he pounded back into you. Making you sputter at the force. "Deal?" He repeats, clearly not wanting to ask again.
"D-Deal." You nod absent-mindedly, trying to spread your legs open for him.
Also clarifying that I do not write romantically or sexually if someone is 16- strictly platonic. (lack of Louis fics addressed here), around 17-18 is where I write romantically, and 19+ is where I write both. (For Kpop)
Had to bring this up bc I had some1 from the younger readers come into my asks abt it.
First, I'm completely fine if you, as a minor, read the smut I post. I can not physically stop you, and I assume, based on myself, that you are not shielded from 18+ specifically sexual topics—since I have read smut when I was a minor myself. But please do note the statement above as to how I write for the KPOP fans.
My content is for the consumption of all since I post freely here.
If you're a minor and interact with my 18+ posts, please make sure you don't have your age in your bio—I'm merely thinking about your safety, especially since this is the Internet.
Fuck everyone and their mama😭😭 absolutely no superboy prime fanfics 😭😭 once finals are done I'm forcing myself to clear out the asks and write for him omfg
Almost put an emdash on an essay, only to realize halfway that I'd get accused of ai
(;￣ー￣A pls guys I've been a participant of journalism competitions...(ToT) also I rlly like the emdash and the period pauses bc I feel like it builds up tension(T＿T)(T＿T)
𖹭.ᐟ synopsis: tongue piercing ohyul with licking&biting fixation w his squirter gf... 🤤🤤
𖹭.ᐟ warnings: biting, belt as handcuffs, he's eating pussy, pussy drunk ohyul, hes degrading u here (^^;, reader is a water gun, uhhh technically porn no plot
𖹭.ᐟ message: everybody say thank u songkran, this is probably my fav fic lol ＼(^-^)／ uhh maybe food play ohyul next???(((・・;) I luvs ohyul sm I wanna bake and cook him all the food he wants ALSO HAPPY 300 GUIZZ
You ground your hips against him, just enough to feel his nose nudge against your clit. Sighing at the small relief.
Ohyul's groan vibrated against you, sending shockwaves of pleasure up your spine. He pressed his tongue flat against the soaked fabric—just for a second—before wrenching it aside with his teeth.
"Impatient," he scolded, but the moment his lips sealed around your clit and sucked, all teasing evaporated into sheer desperation. His fingers dug bruises into your hips, holding them down as you arched against him. "Couldn't even wait until I was out of my damn clothes."
He pulled back just enough to growl, "Stay still." Then dove back in like a man starving—each flick of his tongue sharp and filthy between words— "...or I'll tie you down... and take my damn time."
The pleasure had your head spinning, heat coursing through your veins. The tongue piercing he had only sweetened every lick, the cold metal offering more.
His tongue piercing trailed along your skin. He looked like sin, and god, how he wanted to make you call out his name like a prayer until you were gasping for air.
Your thighs try to close in around his head, to keep him in place. He clicked his tongue, the sound lost to the way he pressed his face back into you, hands digging into your thighs to keep them apart. "I said keep still, or are you just begging for me to tie you up?"
Before you could comply, he was already pulling away. Undoing his belt and grabbed both of your wrists, using the leather to bind your hands together. "That's my girl..." he muttered, dragging your hips to the very edge of the bed and burying himself between your thighs again—this time with no mercy.
His tongue worked in cruel, practiced strokes, alternating between broad licks that had you seeing stars and sharp flicks of that damn piercing right where you needed it most.
One hand slid under your ass to grip hard enough to lift you into his mouth with a muffled groan— "Scream for me."
Your insides were already tingling, guts twisting and knotting as he continued his assault on you. "Oh- yul-!" You choked out a sob, reaching to gripping the bedsheets. "Oh god–"
The second your voice broke, Ohyul redoubled his efforts—sucking your clit into his mouth with a groan that vibrated against you, tongue pressing mercilessly against that perfect spot while his free hand snaked up to roughly pinch one of your nipples.
He could feel the way you clenched around nothing beneath him, and it drove him wild.
"Don't call for god," he snarled against slick skin before biting down just above where you needed him most—sharp enough to wring another ragged cry from you. "Say my name when you cum."
"I'm gonna cum, baby– gonna cum–" You panted, pupils blown wide as you stared at him in between your legs. His fingers digging into your thighs as he sealed his mouth over your clit and sucked, relentless. His tongue lashed at you in quick, sinful flicks, the cold metal of his piercing dragging just right every damn time.
Until you finally shattered beneath him with a cry that went straight to his cock.
Letting out a loud sob-like groan as you squirted all over his face, splattering messily as you came hard.
Ohyul didn’t even flinch.
He kept his mouth on you, drinking you in with a groan so deep it bordered on animalistic—tongue lapping up every last drop until you were twitching and oversensitive beneath him. Only then did he finally pull back, lips glistening, chin dripping as he smirked up at you through hooded eyes.
"Messy," he mumbled, dragging the back of his hand across his mouth like it was the sweetest damn thing he’d ever tasted. He leaned in close enough for you to feel his next words against your swollen clit, "Let’s do it again."
"Ohyul, wait—"
"Hm?" he hummed, raising an eyebrow. His gaze raking over your body, taking in the sight of you wrecked and panting before him. "Changed your mind, already?"
"Cock."
"Thought you'd say that..." he muttered, chuckling under his breath, he didn't even bother fully undressing—just shoved his pants down enough to free his cock, gripping the base and giving it a slow stroke right in front of your face. "Since you asked so nicely."
"Just your mouth, or do you want more than that?" he growled. The question was only half-serious—he was so damn hard just looking at you, he'd give you anything you asked for.
"In my pussy..." you pant, looking up at him. The belt binding your hands together digging into your skin.
"Fuck—" His free hand slid down to grip your thigh and wrench it over his hip. He didn’t even bother lining himself up properly—just dragged the head of his cock through your slick once, twice, before shoving in to the hilt with a single ruthless thrust.
A ragged groan ripped out of him as he bottomed out, forehead dropping against yours. "So fucking wet," he gritted out, hips already rolling in shallow, punishing circles. "And all for me?"
"Yes baby–" You moaned, spreading your legs wider so that he could take it to his advantage and fill you fully.
Ohyul’s breath came in rough, uneven bursts as he drove into you with a rhythm that bordered on feral—each snap of his hips punctuated by the slap of skin and the choked-off noises you couldn’t seem to stop making. His fingers dug into your hip hard enough to bruise, the other hand fisting in your hair to yank your head back and expose your throat as he leaned down to bite at your collarbone.
"Say it," he demanded against sweat-slick skin, voice shredded with desperation. "Tell me whose pussy this is."
"Fuck– it's yours!" You moaned loudly, legs shaking as he bit your neck.
"Damn right." He snarled the words against your skin before sealing his mouth over yours in a kiss that was more teeth than tongue—swallowing every gasp, every broken moan as he fucked you stupid. His hips pistoned into you with brutal precision, the angle just right to have you seeing stars with every thrust.
He only broke the kiss to growl against your lips, "Fill you up so good, baby."
You opened your mouth, lolling your tongue out like a whore. The scene alone made him haul your legs over his shoulders in one brutal motion, driving into you so deep your vision whited out for a second—before spitting straight onto your tongue with a ragged groan.
"Disgusting," he panted, thumb hooking the corner of your mouth to drag it wider as he fucked into you harder, faster. "You take it so well—you stupid slut. Just opening your mouth, wanting me to spit on you." His other hand slid down to rub tight circles on your clit, pushing you toward another ruinous climax as he growled, "Come with me."
You gladly swallowed his spit, "More..." you mumbled, smiling as the tip pounded—kissing your cervix wetly with every thrust.
He let out a fuck-filthy laugh, dragging his thumb from your lips to smear more spit down your chin.
"Greedy girl," he rasped, hips never stuttering in their brutal pace—each thrust punching the air from your lungs. "You want more?" His fingers tangled in your hair again, wrenching your head back as he leaned down to lick a hot stripe up the column of your throat before biting hard enough to bruise.
Then—just like you wanted—he gathered another mouthful of spit and let it drip directly onto your tongue, watching with satisfaction as you swallowed it like the good girl you were. "Take every fucking drop I give you."
The scene looked straight out of a porno. And you were enjoying it. He was bathing in it.
"Look at you, smiling all over my dick, huh?" He grins, slapping you across the cheek, just enough to make you look stupid. Your combined moans and skin-on-skin sounds lewd enough that it was the only thing that rang in both of your ears.
"Fuck, look at you," he panted, voice wrecked as his hand slid from your hair to grip your throat—not squeezing, just holding. Just reminding you who owned every gasp spilling from your lips. "Made for this—made to take my cock like a goddamn dream."
His hips stuttered, pace turning erratic as he felt his own climax coil tight in his gut. He leaned down until his lips brushed yours, sharing your air as he growled, "Cum with me."
You squirted for the second time, drenching your bodies and the bedsheets. Biting down your drunken smile as the orgasm hit hard again.
With a feral groan, he buried himself to the hilt and pumped his release into you in hot, ragged pulses—each one wringing another broken sound from both of you. Cock throbbing inside your pussy you could feel it give you one last delicious stretch as it pumped his sweet cum inside you.
His fingers tightened on your throat just enough to feel your racing pulse as he rode out the aftershocks, forehead pressed to yours like an anchor. When he finally pulled back, cock still twitching inside you.
His gaze signalled that he was dizzy, though it didn't stop him from ogling at your body. Letting out a soft chuckle as he leaned back in, licking and biting on your neck. Tasting your sweat and skin like it was savory while he thrusted weakly. Completely drunk on the feel of you. Lavishing at whatever he could get his hands and mouth on while chuckling.
𖹭.ᐟ synopsis: ur the new trainee in town, got close to woojin, now ur in a situationship w him! This time, both of u are hanging out in the production room. When he comes back after getting snacks, he's baffled at how naturally terrible u are at producing.
𖹭.ᐟ message: inspired by that one audio w the bark-fart combo on tiktok😭😭
Woojin handled most of the production when it came to LNGSHOT's music—that was a given fact. After spending what seemed like three hours on his laptop, he turned towards you, who was dutifully writing lyrics for your own group. Muttered something and kissed your temple, then walked out of the production room.
His mistake was leaving the laptop open, all vulnerable and tantalizing to your grabby hands.
Whatever came next was on him.
"That beat is hideous." Woojin cringed as he listened to the "music" you created while he was out of the studio to have a small run by the nearest convenience store.
Just garbled noises, all four of LNGSHOT's members warped weirdly from pre-existing recordings—playing on the speakers. "You made Ryul sound like Yuno Miles– man, what the fuck?" His head tilts to the side like it could actually help him listen to the garbage spewing out of the speakers.
When it came to what was supposedly his voice, now currently filtered and edited into something that was like if a big toenail lathered in onion and garlic juice could serenade you— Woojin could only close his eyes shut. Jaw tightening, a face that could only be described as a grimace.
He actually put down the paperbag on the table, the plastic packaging of the junk food rustling as it was set down. And much to his own betrayal, his ears wanted to hear what other bullshit you had made within a span of 30 minutes while playing on his laptop.
He looked at the speakers again like he wanted to rip out the wires. Ohyul and Louis now sounded like 2 out of the 3 members of Alvin and the chipmunks sunbaenim. Much to his dismay, when all four of them began singing together—it sounded like wet, hot, funky diarrhea. It was the last straw after listening to what felt like a fork grating against a plate.
He made his way toward you, who was smiling stupidly, thinking it was so funny to fuck up their voices and create something that made his eardrums want to file a police report against you for noise pollution. Like you were personally hired for a government sanctioned ear torture.
Pausing the "music" as he got his hands back on his laptop and held both of your hands and looked you dead in the eyes, "I appreciate the fact that you tried, but please never make anything again."
"But it's funny—" You couldn't finish your sentence as a snort of laughter came out of you.
He stared at you as you howled on the floor with a deadpan expression.
Though as it continued, his gaze softened, a small smile creeping into his lips.
If it meant hearing your voice like this, he'll just gladly let you mess everything in his life.
Who's fucking dad is this L.FAOOO😭😭 bro looks like the type of dad to start coughing early in the morning while getting ready😭😭😭 doing unnecessary gagging noises while brushing his teeth too I bet😭😭😭😭 got them grunc glasses on😭😭😭😭plaid button up shirt😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭sorry guys I unbuttoned it😭😭😭😭😭😭he makes me ovulate😭😭😭😭😭😭😭I'm gonna give him a battalion worth of children😭😭😭😭😭😭😭I'm gonna make u a daddy just watch me mf😭😭😭😭😭I wanna lather u in whip cream and lick it off of you😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭ur so fucking fine u lucky we not in the same vicinity😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
𖹭.ᐟ message: saw some1 point out that he had a vape and immediately got flashbacks 2 this one situationship I had senior Yr HNGGGGHHH lord (@_@;) Nyways, may or may not have based this off of experience lol MANN ts got me missing dick like a mf😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
Smoker Ryul! that teaches you to smoke just for the sole purpose of doing shotgun kisses with you. Having you on his lap, his hands on your hips, slowly trailing down to cup at your ass as it slowly turns into a makeout session. His tongue laving yours, leaving a bitter taste that's just as addictive as he is.
"You just gotta get used to it, pretty." Ryul smiles, watching you try to get used to it—the vape pen he bought you since you whined about smelling like smoke.
Irritated as he smiles at you, you blow a puff to his face. "Shut up. You're the one being a bad influence."
Ryul swats the smoke away, scattering the scent of strawberry kiwi. "Yeah? But you're still with me though." He teases, lightly pinching at your nose.
Your lower lip tugs upwards, reluctant but eventually admitting silent defeat. You bring it to your lips—breathing it in. Kissing him afterwards. He smiles into the kiss, his hand moving to the back of your head to keep you in place.
He found it cute, the way you huffed with every breath you took, trying to keep up with him. Without warning, he shifts you further into his lap—taking advantage of how desperate you clung onto him. His hands roam over your clothed body, eager to taint his fingerprints into your skin.
His hand finds your tit, squeezing it through your bra. Making you moan, jolting into his warmth out of instinct. As if to punish you for it, he squeezes harder then slaps at the mound. Relishing in the slight discomfort he caused you—thighs trying to close in, your face wincing—but you don't seem to pull away either.
"You like that, huh?" He asked, grabbing your hair by the base to pull you away from the kiss. A long filthy string of saliva connecting your lips together. That sickeningly handsome smirk on his face, the one he knew you'd be on your knees for. You whine, arching your back in an attempt to ease the sweet pain, feeling that familiar pool in your gut.
"Open your legs... Wanna see you all wet for me, pretty."
Yk I like how the lngshot ff writers just collectively decided that Ohyul is a munch LMFAOOOIO who's up 4 tongue piercing ohyul though?!?!?!?!?! Mi8 write abt it... (〃´▽`)
𖹭.ᐟ message: saw some1 point out that he had a vape and immediately got flashbacks 2 this one situationship I had senior Yr HNGGGGHHH lord (@_@;) Nyways, may or may not have based this off of experience lol MANN ts got me missing dick like a mf😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
Smoker Ryul! that teaches you to smoke just for the sole purpose of doing shotgun kisses with you. Having you on his lap, his hands on your hips, trailing down to cup at your ass as it slowly turns into a makeout session. His tongue laving yours, leaving a bitter taste that's just as addictive as he is.
"You just gotta get used to it, pretty." Ryul smiles, watching you try to get used to it—the vape pen he bought you since you whined about smelling like smoke.
Irritated as he smiles at you, you blow a puff to his face. "Shut up. You're the one being a bad influence."
Ryul swats the smoke away, scattering the scent of strawberry kiwi. "Yeah? But you're still with me though." He teases, lightly pinching at your nose.
Your lower lip tugs upwards, reluctant but eventually admitting silent defeat. You bring it to your lips—breathing it in. Kissing him afterwards. He smiles into the kiss, his hand moving to the back of your head to keep you in place.
He found it cute, the way you huffed with every breath you took, trying to keep up with him. Without warning, he shifts you further into his lap—taking advantage of how desperate you clung onto him. His hands roam over your clothed body, eager to taint his fingerprints into your skin.
His hand finds your tit, squeezing it through your bra. Making you moan, jolting into his warmth out of instinct. As if to punish you for it, he squeezes harder then slaps at the mound. Relishing in the slight discomfort he caused you—thighs trying to close in, your face wincing—but you don't seem to pull away either.
"You like that, huh?" He asked, grabbing your hair by the base to pull you away from the kiss. A long filthy string of saliva connecting your lips together. That sickeningly handsome smirk on his face, the one he knew you'd be on your knees for. You whine, arching your back in an attempt to ease the sweet pain, feeling that familiar pool in your gut.
"Open your legs... Wanna see you all wet for me, pretty."
Hi Anon ＼(^^)／ pretty sure James never pulls out in my smuts😭😭😭 put I'll take note of this and put it in the next works bc I do get what ur tryna say here HAHAHHSHSHS
girlyyyy if u still open to reqs please make one with slytherin james smut. i just find out that his hogwarts house is slytherin (he said it in fansign event) AND SO AM I SO PLEASEE PLEASE PLEASEEEE THANK UUUU
Hello anon, pls know that I have not abandoned this req and I'm currently in a spiral of learning about hogwarts locations and basic info 😭😭 will edit this post once I'm done w it!!
Also pls bear with me cz I currently have midterms going on huhuu🫠🫠🫠
𖹭.ᐟ synopsis: pursuing you was easy. Loving you was hard. He's grown tired, nothing more, nothing less.
𖹭.ᐟ message: REQUESTED . I threw a small fit bc I accidentally deleted it the other day. Tried to remember and recover as much as I could (/_;)/~~
Keonho was always smiling. Everyone knew him as the bright one. Not a single picture that you'd never catch him grinning widely. He laughed loud, waved enthusiastically, eyes cresent like the waning moon.
With that– it was no surprise he loved louder. Loved proudly, even if there was no label stuck onto the both of you.
You weren't exactly cold. Just… distant.
Your replies slowed, responding within a couple of minutes to hours later.
Plans that were always “I'll see if I can.”
Conversations that skimmed the surface and then drifted away the moment they got too real.
Still, he stayed cheerful. Patient. Understanding. That's how it was supposed to be, right? It's how love was. To support and stay.
“It’s okay,” Keonho would say whenever you cancelled.
“No pressure,” when you went quiet for days.
“I get it,” when you avoided every serious conversation.
Like magnets, opposites attract.
You loved his light.
He loved your stillness, reminding him of the sea at night.
But the two of you were still the opposite, not the same, unpredictable to each other.
Until one evening, sitting across from you on a park bench, watching your mind drift somewhere else. Not really there with him.
He had just told you something important — voice softer than usual, smile smaller — and you had nodded without really looking at him.
Something inside him cracked. Just the effect of adjusting to something that wasn't willing to mold and change to fit the other piece.
“Are you even listening to me?” he asked.
You glanced up, surprised. “Mhm. Of course.”
“No, you weren't.” His voice shook, which startled him more than it did you. “You never do.”
"I keep making it easy for you,” Keonho said. “I kept being chill and understanding so you don’t have to try.”
He opened his mouth, then closed it again.
“And you never ask for more,” he continued, eyes bright with unshed tears. “You never ask how I am. You never say what we are. You never stay. Everything's just about you.”
His fists clench, "You, You, always you..." His brows knit, and with gritted teeth, he says: "Pretty selfish of you, no?"
Silence stretched between them, heavy and unfamiliar.
“I just… don’t want things to get complicated,” you say.
Something in his expression went very still.
“I am complicated,” He said quietly. “I’m a person. People are complicated, love is complicated.”
For the first time, he didn’t smile to soften it. Didn’t backtrack. Didn’t say it was fine.
Because it wasn’t.
Not when it has been eating him away, creeping— burrowing into his skin. Leaving him nauseous for days on end after overthinking what he'd done to make you this distant.
He shook his head, reigning himself back in. Slung the strap of his backpack over his shoulder and shuffled off the bench. Expression dropping out of exhaustion and relief.
Accepting. Breathing in the heartache.
"I hope you learn to love..." The silence stretches. He could faintly make out the strumming of his heartstrings — being strung with heavy hands. "... Just don't love me when you do."
