#2am thoughts

Puppy coded Caleb who bends his knees so you can ruffle his hair. He can always tell when you want to touch his hair. Sure, he finds it cute when you stand on your toes, but he enjoys squatting and glancing up at you while you tousle his hair.

Puppy-coded Caleb, who pouts with wide, doleful eyes. He pulls this move for a few reasons. For one He knows you have a soft spot for puppy eyes. But also when you say something negative about yourself or something you love doing. Because the thought of you not loving what you do or yourself breaks his heart. You can never tell if he’s pouting to trick you or because he’s genuinely pouting.

Puppy coded Caleb who follows you like a dog right behind your heels. It’s too the point that people think you’ve hired a personal bodyguard. He doesn’t even do it intentionally.

Puppy coded Caleb who refuses to let you carry anything. If you’re shopping he’s carrying all the bags. Even if you feel bad he doesn’t care. Maybe it’s so everyone assumes the two of you are together? Especially heavy things. He doesn’t care if you’re an independent hunter, if he’s around you won’t carry anything. You’ll barely get to hold your purse. And if he catches you carrying something he quickly scoops it up and follows you.

Puppy coded Caleb who shakes his legs when he notices you walk into a room. If he’s sitting at his desk doing whatever and he notices you his legs do a little wiggle unconsciously. Like he almost can’t contain the burst of excitement from just your presence. And if his legs are outstretched his feet sway once or twice.

Puppy coded who tilts his head when looking down at you. Especially if you say something amusing. Every time he does it a small smile can be found on his cheeks. Or when he’s asking you a question or vice versa.

Puppy coded Caleb who snuggles into you. If he gets the chance he’s snuggling you. Your shoulder, your cheek, the top of your head. He especially loves it when you giggle and try to push him off because his hair is tickling your neck.

Puppy coded Caleb who waits for you to come home. It’s a sad sight honestly. He occasionally walks by the front door casually like he isn’t listening intently to every sound outside. He sits on the couch trying to distract himself but all he can think about is when will you get home? He even tries to drown himself in work but it’s hard to concentrate. And then when he finally, finally hears you at the door his legs do a little shake. He doesn’t immediately get up until you’re in the house. “Hey pipsqueak,”

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Ever since you explained to Satoru how that long haired man he was close with tried to make a move on you, it was like something in his demeanor shifted. 

You hadn’t even meant to say it. You weren’t the type to try to get a reaction out of satoru. It just slipped out during some random conversation. How the dark haired man had leaned a little too close one while you were all out drinking. How his hand lingered longer than it should’ve when he handed you your shot glass. How he looked at you like it was more than just the alcohol that was getting to him.

Which is why, later, your legs were hooked over Satoru’s shoulders and your back was arched off the bed, a pillow shoved beneath your hips to tilt you up for him.

His tongue was relentless, messy, and unhurried. Like he had all the time in the world to ruin you. Slurping softly between slow strokes of his tongue, teasing the edge of your clit with the flat of his tongue until your thighs trembled against his cheeks.

“Now he’ll understand who you belong to, hm?” Satoru muttered smugly between licks, lips brushing wet over your folds. However, He didn’t say it for you. He said it for the camera recording. 

The one he’d set up specifically to send to Suguru. 

His phone was propped up somewhere behind him, catching every slick sound, every twitch of your hips, every time his name slipped from your lips.

And to answer his own question? He was wrong.

Terribly Wrong.

Later that night, while you were fast asleep, Satoru’s phone lit up.

A message from Suguru.

It was a photo.

A photo of Suguru, taken from the angle of his neck down— pearly ropes of cum spilled across his stomach, the mess still glistening, his hand still wrapped around the base of his cock, and sent with the following message:

“Didn’t know you were into sharing. Next time get a close up lol.”

He was a bad angel because he refused to toe the party line, and so he fell. Sometimes you do what you think is the right thing and it still blows up in your face.

The point was that Crowley learned to live with that pain and he became a new person without heaven and he is, not always happy, but surviving and sometimes really enjoying being that person.

A tragedy or a loss changes you and that's okay. There's no wiping it away. There's just getting up off the floor, and taking an offered hand if there is one, and building yourself back up from there.