#it's a two way street and I'm part of the problem

[sinkat]

Publicly posting creative work when you have *severe* rejection sensitive dysphoria is such a bitch. I can't even look at chapter 2 of this new story without being upset, and all I have to do is edit it to post... but my brain won't stop with the "why bother?" and "no one wants this."

Scratch that, I can't even be excited about it or think positively about it at this point. The whole thing is tainted because I'm misdirecting mountains of very real IRL stress and frustration right into convincing myself that my creative work is shit, while using single digit engagement numbers on Twitter and AO3 evidence of that. (I gave up on tumblr a long time ago, and good thing, too, considering how much stuff I chuck here and get... literally zero response.)

And then, of course, there's the guilt associated with this blanket-statement kind of thinking - you know, "no one wants this" - when at least a couple of people like it. I know I'm being ungrateful and that the standard of "success" isn't how many internet strangers decided to click a like button.

But I still can't help thinking, like... at what point do you take a hint and just stop?

[miniaturesuitgladiator]

Quarter mile at a time.

Synopsis: Bruce finds out he has another biological kid ,and not only are they a girl but the best street racer in Gotham!!

Notes: reader is described as female and black, poc ,or in this case I guess she might be mixed. I do not hate cops I just wrote them like this for the fic. So please don't take anything to personally.

Warnings: Illegal things ofc. Drugs, mentions of sex and prostitution. Child abandonment. Underage drinking and smoking and prostitution. Not proofread!!

Part one. Part two.

Ride or die.

'Do you understand how much trouble your in kid?'

'Do you ever shut up?'

This was the third time this week you had gotten yourself in this position.

Handcuffed and seated infront of some cop who was writing down your statement.

Still being underaged meant you'd get away with more then adults would.

Sadly that also meant you were usually the one to take the fall for your so called 'friends'.

'You gotta help me out here kid. I'm trying to help you.'

You were sixteen. That age that people would consider 'young and dumb'.

But you knew better then to tell anything to the cops. People got hurt from doing that.

People got killed.

'Cmon kid. Your sixteen and I see you in here three times a week.'

'Don't remind me." You scoff rolling your eyes.

Cops like these almost make you feel bad. Almost. They always claim their just 'trying to do their job'. But you see through that.

You see the way they pin your friends down. Gun to their head. Cuffs tighter then needed and for what?

For power.

And with a gun to a scared kid's head they feel like they got it......

So you stay silent and give them headaches with your words.

'Well I guess all that's left to do is call your mom.'

'Go ahead and try it.'

You've seen this to many times to count. The cop tries to threaten you with him calling your mom. She doesn't answer.

They let you go. Because Gotham's got bigger problems then a kid who they don't have proof did something.

'Ya know kid. If you weren't so caught up with friends like yours you'd have a good life.'

Of course the cop would say that. By looking at your record. Your a straight A student good grades you even tutor for extra credits.

'Am I free to go?'

The cops sighs after getting nothing but a ring from you mother's phone.

'Yeah go ahead.'

You scoff standing up and grabbing your things. Smug like smile planted your face from finally being free.

'Wait.'

You hum turning back around to face the sitting cop.

'Kid, I say this with respect. Going the way your going you won't make it to twenty.'

You knew he was right. Your friends were living proof of that. Some of your friends were dead while others in prison.

More friends came but they never could beat the system.

You didn't blame them and you never would. They were trapped in a system were this felt like the only way out.

Just like you.

'Maybe that's the plan.'

Fear owned Gotham, consumed it like a virus.

Even the wealthy and powerful people slept with one eye open.

Everyone was afraid of something ,and in Gotham your worst fear was most likely to happen.

But your not really helping yourself when you go to places like this. But then again you didn't really care.

It's dark as you walk to suspiciously dark allies but you knew ever road in gotham.... just not like other people would....

By the time you reach your destination the place is already filled with people. Some drunk most high ,and more likely then not they were shit broke with nothing to lose.

So to say this place wasn't a place for a teenager was an understatement.

By now you knew who to stick around. The people who could protect got and the people who couldn't.

So you had no trouble as you walk around and greet your usual 'friends'.

It smells like smoke but not from cigarettes.

Smoke from tires rubbing against the harsh concrete. It's warm but that kind of from car engines and cigarettes.

Girls crowed around cars and boys do too. All looking for attention or money. They'd do just about anything to get cash.

Some of them were mean almost forcing men to sleep with them to get money , but others were soft much to shy to do anything like that.

You felt bad for them but you held your tongue, as both the men and women belittled them infront of you.

Most of them were older then you but some we're your age some even younger. They new you quite well.

Well just about everyone knew you.

You couldn't be seen with them though. No, you were too popular around this place to be seen with them.

You'd be considered a stupid kid to be seen with them. And in a place like this, if you're seen as a kid they'll treat you like one.

A loud voice breaks through the crowned and reaches your ears.

'Looks who's back.'

Mikey your so called 'boss' says. Mikey met you when you were dirt poor and took pity on you.

Instead of giving you money. He gave you a job. Claiming 'you gotta work for your money. Cause ain't shit free.'

Mikey owned a car shop and he taught you alot. Even stuff you shouldn't know. Like how to make a car go the fastest it can with blowing up.

Or how to hide drugs in car seats that even the best canines won't be able to smell.

Eventually he took you to your first street race and from there it clicked.

That was your passion, that was your thing.

You made him teach you stick and eventually you built your own car out of scraps.

And slowly by slowly you came up in ranks.

And bought a better car.

Thanks to Mikey of course. He got in you every race since he knew just about everyone, even the people you shouldn't know.

He started you with small races and moved you up inch by inch.

But the time you were twelve you were the best street racer in Gotham. But not everyone can take losing to a kid well.

So Mikey introduced you to his friends. So atleast you'd have their protection. Their older then you and did just about anything illegal you could think of.

But they were your protection so you didn't complain.

You smile as you see Mikeys crooked smile.

You knew he wasn't a Saint ,or anything but he was the closest thing you have as family.

He's all you got.

He used to pay your rent and bills for you until eventually you could pay them yourself.

Lord knows your mom never did....

'Hey Mikey. Where's my baby?'

'In the back. She's already ready.'

He points behind him and low and behold there she is. Your baby.

Your pink Honda S2000 covered in glitter and with rims that the moon illuminated off of.

She was perfect. The fastest thing in Gotham and it made your opponents even angrier to lose to such a feminine car.

Following Mikey to your car you walk past various people and their cars.

All different cars modified from their colors, to their shapes ,and designs that comstomize them to their owner.

It was easy walking past the cars some you admired for their creativity others you thought looked ridiculous.

Walking past the people wasn't so easy.

Some gave you a simple nod others looked you up and down clearly sizing you for the race.

Grazing your hands against the hood of your car you smile.

You never took your car home with you after a race. The cops would catch you before you could say 'shit'.

Mikey taught you that.

So instead you left it with Mikey ,and he took care of her when you weren't racing.

Opening your door and starting the engine you smile at the noise she makes. Everyone knew the sounds of your car by now. Loud, strong, and confident.

'You ready? They paying good this race.' Mikey says as he looks you over.

It was never about the money. You and Mikey new that. It was about the thrill.

The excitement of the race.

It was exhilaration you felt right before you won. It was feeling of not feeling anything for a moment.

It was the way your stomach dropped as you hit the gas half way through a curve. The way the moon shined on your dark skin and the way the chilly air felt against your face.

It was the fact that when you were racing you didn't worry about anything. Not school, not the cops, not your life, not your mom. Nothing.

It was just you and your car and that was enough....

'I'm always ready.'

The noise from the Crowed died down a bit when the racer girl announced the biggest race was about to begin. This was the most expensive race of the night so of course you were in it.

You new mostly everyone you were racing but their was one guy you didn't. No one did. You ignored that feeling that something was off about him. After all as long as he had money to pay that's all that mattered.

The race started of the same motorcycles went out and stopped the traffic and horns from the busy and annoyed people rang through the air as you raced through the city like you always did.

The roads were dark and this was definitely the fastest your car had ever gone.

You hanged in second place the unknown boy in front. But right he could pass that finish line you pushed your secret weapon. And just like always.

You won.

The Crowed was loud and people surrounded you touching you and your car. Compliments filled the air but your eyes weren't on them. No, your eyes were on the new guy.

He looked normal but something about how he acted gave him away. How he kept looking around but tried to act calm.

He wasn't a junky. No, he was dressed to nice and his car was nice enough to prove he wasn't.

He looks almost awkward but people continue talking to him. He doesn't fit In here that's clear as day when you notice how he talks. It's to nice, to cocky.

He's smart you'll give him that. Probably the best at what he does. That's probably why they sent him. He's got that kinda charm that he can smooth talk his way into anything and everything.

But if he was gonna come here he should've known what not to do. And most people are way to high and drunk to notice but you do.

His gaze always goes to people hands first.

People here didn't do that.

No, here you look at their eyes or If you like them their body.

Never their hands. People here throw their hands around but they usually don't mean any harm that's just how the express themselves.

Cops tried to read people by their hands to watch what they were gonna do before they did it.

You knew that from how much you were constantly arrested.

That's probably why most of your friends were treated harsher then necessary by cops when all they were trying to do was communicate.

'Only cops do that shit.' You mutter pushing off your car and walking over to Mikey trying to give him your keys.

'Leaving so soon?' Mikey ask his voice almost concerned but he hides that well.

You always stayed late. Because it was better then going home to empty apartment.

You nod your hands still holding your keys and eyeing the boy.

You don't say anything to Mikey about the boy being a cop incase you were wrong. But your not gonna stay here long enough incase you were right.

You toss your drink, your hand opening to give Mikey your keys but before you know it loud sirens fill the air and blue flashing lights are everywhere.

People scatters like cockroaches when you turn on the light.

Your quick to grip your keys and get in your car. Before you even know what your doing your already racing down the dark streets of Gotham.

You don't have time to count how many police cars follow behind you and for a moment you wonder if they only want you.

They probably did considering how many times you had gotten away from them.

You'd been running from cops since you started racing and on foot you weren't that fast but in your car?

They couldn't get close enough to scratch your paint.

You sigh turning off your engine and leaning your head on your steering wheel as you parked into a dark ally.

You had escaped all ten of the cops with ease but there was still that adrenaline rushing through your viens.

You don't have much time to rest though because before you can think of what to do there's a loud thumb against the top of your car.

'The fuck?' You whisper still out of breath and kinda scared.

Your head still slightly dizzy and your eyes have never been the best so this must he your imagination right?

Because there's no fucking way batman just landed on the back of your car.

You groan muttering a 'just my luck.' Under your breath and put up your hands in defeat.

Because of course your a good driver but your to tired and far to drunk to race against fucking batman himself.

He opens your door and his scowl is cold harsh.

Harsher then the criminals you face on the daily but it softens at the sight of you....

You look like a dream. Not the kind that he falls inlove with but the kind that he's supposed to know.

Someone he's supposed to remember but he cant.

He feels weird but still takes your arm and without a word puts you in the batmobil.

He decides to ignore the way you almost rip out his door handle by how hard your trying to open it.

'Even if you did get out. You won't make it far.' He says as his car automatically buckling up.

'Worth a shot.'

You huff annoyed about your situation and scared even though your trying to hide it.

'Whats your name?'

'Whats your name?' You repeat his question with a question. Ah, so you were that kinda kid.

The stubborn kind.

Well he can't judge he has a handful of stubborn kids of his own. And he thanks God for that on night like these.

It just makes it easier to talk to you.

'Tell me your name and I'll let you go.'

'Huh?'

Your surprised by the amazing deal he's offering you and really can't believe it.

He on the other hand had no real intention of handing you over to the police after all he had sent Dick their as an undercover cop to stop a big drug deal not stop a kid.

Little did he know you were the best street racer in Gotham. But he quickly figured that out as you escaped not one but ten trained cops.

You sigh telling him your name. Even if this was a trap it was worth a shot.

He unlocks the door and you uncross your arms open the door. Confused you look back at him.

'You really gonna let me go?' You ask trying to make sure that he wouldn't chase you down after this.

'A deals a deal ,kid.' He watches as you step out of the batmobil and his gaze locks onto yours as you close his door.

'See ya around, kid.' His dark voice says and something about the way he says it makes you believe it's more of a promise then just a saying.

'Hopefully not.' You mutter as you get in your car.

'Alfred I'm going to need you to check something for me.'

'B, everyone in my unit has been looking for that kid for years! Years! And you just let her go? The best street racer in Gotham and you let here go?! We didn't even know she was a girl until today!'

Dick voice echos through the batcave and Bruce's headache already forming from his sons distressed voice.

'Well being seeing her soon Dick. Calm down.'

He tries to reason with obviously irrated vigilantly.

'And how can you be so sure? What if this was are only chance?!'

Alfred sends him a knowing glance as he hands Bruce some life changing papers.

Bruce sighs rubbing his temples as he carefully reads the heavy papers in his hands.

Even going so far as rereading them just to make sure.

But eventually after reading enough and his headache intensifying he says.

'Because she's my daughter.'

💕Thanks for reading!!💕

Likes reblogs and comments are appreciated!!

[tpwrtrmnky]

clarification

[ID:

Three panel comic with crudely drawn stick people.

Panel 1: a lime green person and a grass green person wearing a baseball cap ang big, round glasses are walking down a street.

Grass: "Look. I get it. You think I'm paranoid. And that I need to touch grass. But this is my part of town. There is no grass here.

You think you know misoviridy, you haven't seen the half of it. It's fucked over here."

Lime: "Sure, in what way though"

Panel 2: Grass looks concerned as they explain to Lime.

Grass: "Well um. Some. And to be absolutely clear I do mean some, not all and not most, a subset, a particular, specific group of nongreen chromatic people in this area."

Lime: "Uh-"

Grass: "Those individuals in particular are prone to, sometimes, not as some intrinsic trait but rather as a behavioral tendency that they are actively choosing to partake in, um,

Misoviridic harassment. Over very, very little provocation."

Panel 3: A crowd of five people color picked from Tumblr's dashboard buttons surround the two. Grass Green lays in the fetal position while Lime keeps standing.

Photo Red: "Hey what the fuck is your problem, you raging æverthe?"

Video Pink: "I actually proudly hate green people. Just to be clear."

Audio Blue: "How dare you say all red and/or blue people are murderers?"

Chat Blue: "We're a very welcoming community fuck you!"

Quote Orange: "I just have some concerns about the thing you just said, such as the claim that all nongreen people are misoviridic. if you didn't mean that all nongreen people are misoviridic you should've clarified-"

Lime: "They did clarify that!"

Quote Orange: "It's actually very presumptuous of you to expect that I can know ahead of time that the words in the sentence are there on purpose? This is very primarist of you."

End ID.]

Start - Previous - Next

[underratedbreadcrust]

Chance Equals Fortune — Prologue

Squid Game | The Salesman x F!Reader

Summary: parasites. that is the only thing he thinks of when he meets the players he is meant to recruit. but what happens when he meets you and you are nothing of what he expects.

an au where the salesman lives and becomes a player.

Warnings: swearing and classist thinking. in the future there will probably be canon-typical violence and i'm still debating on smut.

a/n: happy new years! i'm sorry i couldn't upload this earlier i had to deal with some long distant relatives. however, due to popular demand here is the gong yoo fic as promised. this was originally supposed to be under 1k words...

Words: 2.1k

next part>>

Click. Click. Click

Those are the sounds of pristine perfectly polished black shoes on concrete. The soles of the shoes worn by a handsome-looking businessman echoed loudly, causing the sounds to reverberate into the jet-black sky. As he walked beneath the faint luminescence of street lights, case in hand and his head held high, his eyes searched for the next prey to fall victim to his silver tongue. The same mouth that twisted dark truths into sweet promises others couldn't dare reject. Never once has his articulate way of speaking failed to deliver the precise words necessary to provide his superiors with a new batch of fresh meat to satisfy their sadistic tendencies. To him, it was all the same. One less piece of vermin in the world, and more importantly, one less leech to drain the well-oiled machine that is society.

Today was no different as he strolled along the sidewalk of a small park near the outskirts of Seoul. While he walked, he felt indifferent towards the small details, like the light breeze swaying the tree branches above or the faint smell of dog shit wafting through the air. Having trained himself to ignore anything and everything that could be a possible distraction from his mission. What was his mission again? Ah yes, currently that would be you.

His steps immediately halted as he spotted your figure in the distance, a dark shadow looming over a bed of flowers and a trail of smoke emitting from the cigarette between your fingers. There you are. He squared his shoulders as he fixed his expression into one of casual ease. Now, all he had left to do was to convince you all of the problems that have stemmed from your pathetic life could be solved in the blink of an eye. That your worries could dissolve as quickly as skin in acid.

He began to move again, taking long strides to where you were standing. In the time he took to reach you, he jotted some quick mental notes.

One. Your relaxed stance oozed confidence and uninterest despite being a young lady positioned in one of the most crime-infested spots of the city in the dead of night. Meaning you either had a weapon on you or had sufficient defense skills, possibly both. He must tread carefully.

Two. You were positioned next to a tall fountain, atop stood a small marble figure of a gumiho. The spot infamously known for the shady transactions dealing with drugs and other nefarious crimes. Perhaps you were waiting for someone? He'd have to keep an eye out for any newcomers that could interrupt his process.

Three. Your mouth was...moving?

His steps faltered. There was no other person around within a 3-mile radius whom you could be conversing with, nor did you have a phone in hand. How odd. In his time as a recruiter, he has encountered all kinds of people. Drug addicts, the mentally ill, and one memorable case a delirious man on the brink of death, hallucinating from hunger. You, however, seemed perfectly sane. Keyword…seemed. He shook his head, quickly putting a halt to his thoughts. He had no time to ponder over whatever weird traits you may have, he came here to do one job. He resumed his trek towards you and was soon standing mere feet from you.

Show time.

“Excuse me miss, may I have a minute of your time?”

You remain standing still, making no indication that you had noticed him. Your eyes were distant while you continued to murmur but no sound came out. He wasn’t sure if you were ignoring him or if you really were that unaware of your surroundings. Now that won’t do.

“Miss?” He tried again tentatively, his head tilting curiously as he stepped in your line of sight. “Are you alright?”

Finally, your eyes shifted into focus, taking a moment to adjust. For a brief moment, it appeared as if you were lost. However, that moment soon passed and your eyes narrowed, annoyance filling your features.

“Why did you interrupt me?”

The bite in your tone was enough to make him raise an eyebrow. Perhaps you really weren’t in the right state of mind after all. “Interrupt?”

You scoffed, ignoring the question you brought the cigarette back to your lips. Taking in a long drag before you released the smoke right in his face. His mouth turned downward in displeasure.

“Do you need something?” You snapped, your jaw clenching as you slid your free hand in your pocket. He caught the way your finger twitched as you did so. Weapon it is then.

His face instantly changed back to that previous pleasant expression, his lips curving into a kind smile though with a lack of warmth in his eyes. Instead replaced by an empty, clinical look.

”I don’t mean to be a bother ma’am, but I’m here to offer you a proposal you’re sure to like,” he states in a neutral tone, having uttered a variation of those words dozens of times. “A way to better improve your current economic situation.”

Your body tenses as your eyes dart over his figure eyeing the suitcase, no doubt analyzing him as a threat. “Look I already said I’d pay him back!” He watches as you chuck the cigarette to the ground and stomp on it. “If he keeps rushing me like this then don’t expect to get a single won out of me! I don’t give a shit who he is!” Your volume rises as you take a step back, ready to sprint if needed.

He raises his arm in surrender. “That’s not what I’m here for. As I’ve stated, I only want to help.” His mind is conjuring up the best way to ease the tension.

He hesitantly takes a step forward.

Your eyes immediately look back down. “What’s in the case?”

Another step.

“I work for a group of people whose only interest is to help those who are struggling. Our objective being to ease the burden of the majority.” He swiftly places the case at the base of the fountain, unlocking the latch but leaving it closed. “See for yourself.”

You were the one to take the final step, closing the gap between the two of you. You gave him one more skeptical look before you focused all of your attention on what was in front of you. Slowly, both hands reached out and flipped the top wide open. Your eyes widened as you took in the contents of what was inside, or more specifically, the big wads of cash.

You remained silent, frozen as a statue as you simply stared. In an instant, you whipped your head in his direction. You took the time to study him, your mouth slightly agape and a certain look in your eye he couldn't quite place. A couple of seconds passed, you clamped your mouth shut and swallowed thickly, licking your lips before you finally managed to whisper, "What do you want?"

His mouth quirked upward in a smirk. Got you. "I'd like to play a game."

You belted out a high-pitched, contorted laugh. A childlike glee completely overcoming you. "Ab-so-fucking-lutely," you grinned from ear to ear, bouncing on the balls of your feet.

It dawned on him what that look in your gaze was...

Unstable.

A jolt of thrill shoots down his spine. "I'm sure you're familiar with the game ddakji," he reaches until he grabs the two colorful squares, carefully placing the red one on the ground, "for every time your square manages to flip mine, I will pay you 100,000 won."

You nod enthusiastically, your hand shooting out as he draws his hand in at the same time. "However, if you lose...you must pay me back the same amount."

You snatched the piece from him. “Deal.” You don't waste a single moment in hurling it, the force of the impact causing the sound to ricochet like a gunshot. The square goes flying, becoming a red blur. It stays in the air for a couple of seconds, but that time is enough for the experienced recruiter to know that you've already won. By the time it hits the ground, he doesn't even have to look to know it's flipped.

You look up expectantly at him.

He glances at her, jaw clenching. Well, this isn't how it usually goes. Before he can move to pay you, your voice cuts through the silence. "From the look on your face, you didn't want me to win, correct?" The lack of response on his part encourages you to continue. "How about, instead of doing whatever the hell you were thinking, I propose a new rule," you lean forward, your eyes sparkling with mirth, "we both keep throwing until one of us loses. If I win...you give me everything that's in that case."

"And what if I win?"

Your mouth twists into a devilish smirk. "Don't worry, you won't."

His eyes look you up and down, scanning you. His hands twitch in anticipation at the challenge, adrenaline manifesting itself as electricity in his veins. His bruised ego from losing the first round combined with his competitive nature was enough to make him agree. This was not part of the plan. He could just give you the money, the card, and go about his day like he has so many times before. He has no reason to play along other than he just wants to beat you.

"Alright," his previously fabricated smile now becoming genuine, "my turn."

With renewed vigor, he launches his square and as expected, it flips. He lets out an arrogant chuckle as he fixes his suit and stands up straight, his lips stretching into a satisfied smile.

This cycle continued for multiple rounds, the money long forgotten. The need to succeed fueled the violent fire between the two of you. After a while, he lost all track of time, fixating all of his attention solely on the game.

By now, his hair was disheveled and sweat dripped down his forehead. He panted as he recovered, his arm muscles aching from the consistent use. It was taking more energy than he was willing to admit in order to keep going but like hell if he'd let exhaustion be the cause of failing.

On his turn, he prepared himself to once again launch the disc. He readied himself, drawing his arm back and—

His eyes suddenly flickered to your lips, where your tongue darted out lick them. He watches intensely at your now damp, chapped lips, mouth slightly parted as you breathe heavily from fatigue.

In his moment of distraction, the square slips from his hand. He scrambles quickly to catch it but it's too late...

He's lost.

There is a long pause of silence, before your high-pitched cackle cuts through the air. His eyes widen in shock, the realization slowly setting in.

How...

He breathes out deeply through his nose, trying his best to compose himself. What the hell was that? How on earth could he have lost? He Never. Loses. He doesn't have any longer to dwell on the fact as you practically skip in joy to the case, already counting the amount. All of this because you managed to distract him.

Your voice soon interrupts his thoughts. "Maybe the next time you want to win, you might try not to let your eyes stray so far..." you say as you wink.

How did you even notice? Wait...was that on purpose? He clenches his fists until they turn white, the thought making his blood boil. He has half the mind to kill you and call it an accident just to quell his anger.

He closes his eyes in frustration. No, I can't ruin the games.

He takes in a couple of deep breaths, forcing himself to calm down. Once he knows that his voice won't betray any conflict he feels, he speaks again, "you know, there are other games such as the one we just played. And for much larger prizes as well."

He's back in his element, his persuasive tone of voice exuding reliability. He hands you the card, explaining how it works, how to enlist, and so on.

By the time he finishes his speech, you look mostly convinced. After inspecting the card more closely, your stare finds his, "I appreciate what you have done and thank you for the opportunity. I will consider your offer. If I do accept know it will only be due to a singular fact," your head leans closer, voice lowering to a whisper and your breath fanning over his, "I never lose"

On that note, you step back and walk away, never once turning to glance back at him. You soon disappear into the dark Seoul night, shadows blending with that of buildings and trees.

He lets out a small huff in amusement. If that is true, then he's excited to see how you'll fare in the games.

please don't be a silent reader i love reading comments and hearing your thoughts.

[nightingale-prompts]

Two for One deal- After Image AU- DCxDP

Original post

So would call him negligent but he called it teaching independence. Danny was a smart kid and had everything he needed. Harvey was satisfied with that. Who needed an adult constantly hanging over him? Besides the goons will handle it.

"Harv, are you sure you can handle this? I mean Dick and Tim were a cakewalk but even they were hard to handle." Bruce said stirring his coffee as his eyes wondered around the venue.

They were currently at a well-known and exclusive restaurant for their monthly brunch.

"Come on, it's one kid. I'm not going to start picking up random orphans off the street like you." Harvey said with his typical snark.

Let it not be said that Havery wasn't an asshole. He was. Narcissistic too. But he had a good heart or at least half of one.

"I don't know. Have you been taking your medicine?" Bruce asked his tone shifting to the more serious one he used rarely back in school. "If you want to take care of him you need to take care of yourself."

"Come on Bruce, both of us have had our share of trauma. I can handle this without you needling like a wife." Harvey joked.

Bruce didn't find it funny at all and slightly sexist. Harvey wasn't taking this seriously and his mask was slipping. He hadn't been taking his medication.

"So your son. What is he like?" Bruce shifted the conversation.

"He's polite...when he wants to be. Smarter than most adults I know. Likes to be left alone. Gets on my last nerve." Harvey laughed to himself.

Just then his phone rang.

On the other side a small voice pipped up.

"Mister Dent...I think I'm being kidnapped."

"Think or know?" Harvey said standing up from the table.

"Mr.Dent we have your son. If you want him to be safe you need to represent my client in his upcoming court case."

Harvey clenched his teeth. In internal battle had begun.

"We could let him kill the brat."

"Or we could do as he says. Or call in favor for help."

Harvey reflexively reached for his coin but realized quickly that he didn't want to. If he actually got tail that would mean Danny would be left to die. He'd be innocent but could he really let that happen.

"You don't really mean that. You don't really want him to die. Who'd you argue with other than me?"

"I don't need you and I don't need the boy hanging around."

"And who would understand you like him? He's like us. He is ours and he needs us."

"....fine."

Harvey stood from the table and quickly told Bruce he had to go.

From Wayne's perspective, he watched Harv freeze and his eyes widened in fear and anger.

****

Elsewhere a confused Danny sat tied up in a warehouse.

"I told you we should have stayed at home."

"But we needed to stretch our legs. Do you want to know what this part of the city looks like. Mister Harvey moved us all the way uptown and I wanted to see it."

"We were safer back in outskirts apparently. Come on let's get out of here. This place reeks."

"Yeah, we shouldn't worry Mister Harvey. Causing problems would get us kicked out."

****

The situation seemed to work itself out almost elegantly.

The news reported that Harvey Dent with the help of undercover police(goons) heroically rescued his adopted son (who had already beat the kidnappers bloody).

The news made sure to get a good shot of Harvey hugging the squirming teenage boy.

"You're crushing us!"

"Don't wander off alone then. Next time I'm tying you up."

[smutoperator]

Bad Bunny

Jung Eunbi (Eunha) x Male Reader

Kinkvember Chapter 2

Main kinks: public sex, free use, sex with a stranger, spanking

Word count: 5639.

Eunha is a bad bunny. She may look cute from the outside, but once she gets inside the walls of any bedroom, she transforms herself into the neediest slut ever known. However, in this month of November, you had decided you would abstain from having any sex with her and let her prepare for her group's comeback.

But Eunha's horniness knows no boundaries, and her comeback preparation couldn't go ahead without sex. And if you weren't going to give it to her, no problem; she would find it somewhere else.

Eunha invites a guy to your house for a hot night of sex. He fucks her in every possible way, giving her the relief she needs while you preach your abstinence. However, one little mistake ended up leading to her demise.

On the next day, you do your duty as a good boyfriend and collect the garbage to take it away. However, when you start separating it, you find a few condoms mixed in it. You noticed a few holes poked in them and quickly connected the dots. "Damn, that bunny is so horny she couldn't go over a day without sex," you say.

You take the garbage out but grab one of the condoms, waiting to confront Eunha when she arrives from the latest practice. It doesn't take long for her to come, and as soon as she does, you ask her.

"What is this, Eunha?" you say, pointing to the condom. "I don't know," she answers, clearly lying as you can see her pale skin blushing. "Eunha, did you have sex with another guy while preparing for your group's comeback? You ask her. "Sorry, baby, I couldn't resist; I'm just a horny bunny," she answers. "Please forgive me; I love you," she continues.

Eunha's needy face makes your heart melt. You truly want to forgive her. But first, you need to set some conditions. "I forgive you, baby, but you cannot disobey me anymore," you tell her. "Okay, baby, I promise I will be very obedient," Eunha answers. "Well, I will start enforcing it right now; you better obey every command I give you and let me do whatever I want to you," you answer her. "Yes, baby, do it as you please; I deserve to get punished; I'm a bad bunny," she says.

"Let's take a walk then," you tell Eunha. "Sure, baby," she says. But as soon as you two get out of your house, you cuff her hands. "Baby, what are you doing?" she asks. "Shhhh, you told me you would let me do whatever I wanted," you say to her. "Alright, do it," she says.

You walk Eunha across the street in the direction of the construction site on the other side of it. You walk her through it, making sure she doesn't trip over anything with those knee-high boots she's wearing. You get her towards one of the fences at the construction site, pushing her against it. "Punish me, baby," she says. And indeed you will.

You grab scissors and cut Eunha's top right at her boob area. "We can't do that, baby," she says. "Today we can, follow my lead, you cheating bunny," you say to her, groping her perfect pair of tits and giving them a few spankings in between. "Bad bunny," you say as you spank them.

You pin Eunha against the fence and bend her body over, showing off the part that made you fall in love with her: the perfect round cheeks of her butt. You do one of your favorite things to it: spank it a few times before you pick up the scissors to cut her panties off. "You won't need those today," you say to Eunha.

You stick your hands on Eunha's pink fuckholes and start massaging them. "We can't do that in public, baby; it's too risky," she says. "Of course we can, and if you stay quiet, nobody will see," you say to her as you keep fingering her pussy and anus in broad daylight.

You once again reach into your toolcase and push out a nipple clamp, and you use the chain coming out of it to tie Eunha to the fence. "Today you're Daddy's free use girl," you say to her. "Yes, daddy, please use me," she says.

"Arch that pretty butt for me, little bunny," you tell Eunha, who obliges. As soon as you do, you cut the remnants of her panties off, leaving her big ass out in the open for you to spank it unchallenged. A construction worker arrives from behind, leading you to instinciteively pull Eunha's skirt back to cover her ass.

"You can't stay here," the worker says to you, who obliges and takes Eunha along with you, but not before flashing her nipples to them. You walk Eunha across the street and then reach a very heavy traffic avenue, crossing it as the drivers stop and get greeted with more nipple-flahing from Eunha. On the other side of the avenue, some curious guys look at your girlfriend, wondering what kind of stuff you're doing to her, as they see her tied up with her torso fully exposed, some even perverted enough to try to touch her.

Eunha is now completely naked from her waist up, but you just don't care and take her across the crowd walking down the streets. In fact, you lift her skirt up too, offering them a glimpse of your girlfriend almost totally naked, with many guys turning their necks around to look at her big ass, even better when you spank it in front of those horny dudes and even get some drivers to honk at Eunha flashing them, while you keep greeting the people walking across the street with your girlfriend's hot body.

You get even bolder, bending Eunha's body and flashing her ass to the people on the street and the guys on the avenue. They really enjoy it. Indeed, that fat pale piece of ass is a marvel to look at: so plump, round, and already red from the spankings you gave her.

Eunha grinds herself on a street sign and puts up a little show for the drivers stopping at the red light. "I wish Yuju was there; she could easily do some pole dancing at that sign," you say to your girlfriend, who is basically naked except for the bar of her skirt wrapped around her waist. The transients can see everything from her: her pink pussy, her perky tits, and especially her fat ass.

You take Eunha to the parking lot of a supermarket nearby and decide it's time to start putting some heat up in her pussy, as you finger it while crossing the lot. "Don't squirt; you can only cum when Daddy tells you," you say to her. Eunha obliges, managing to keep herself uptight and not cum.

Eunha gets put on her knees as you unzip your pants and finally show her your cock. "You missed it, right?" you ask her. "A lot, daddy," she answers and then quickly dives to bob her head on it like a good horny bunny. You grab her head from behind and push her even deeper, slowly fucking her doll-esque face. "Oh yeah, you're such a good Barbie doll," you tell her as she takes your cock in her mouth with ease in that parking lot.

You push your pants back up and walk Eunha across the parking lot a little bit. "What do you say?" you ask her. "Thank you, Daddy," Eunha answers. "Good girl, I think you deserve some more of Daddy's cock in your mouth," you reply.

You pin Eunha towards a garage door and violently fuck her face. You don't care about her head slamming hard against it; in face, the more, the better. Your thrusts are filled with rage, ready to teach that cheating bunny a lesson as your cock bulges under her throat and her head keeps slamming the wall. You then walk her around a bit and switch to doing that against the door of one of the parked cars. God, it's so good using that slutty bunny's pretty face like a toy.

You toy with Eunha, slapping your cock against her naughty tongue. That only makes her even hornier, as she seizes the opportunity to bob her head against your cock. "Calm down, little bunny," you say to her, quickly regaining control and pushing her to gag on your cock. "You're such a bad bunny," you say to Eunha, slapping her face.

"Tell me you want more," you ask Eunha. "I want more, Daddy," she answers. "Again," you reply, spitting in her face. "Please, I want more, Daddy. Give me that big cock; I want it inside me," she says with more detail this time. You push your cock a bit more on Eunha's mouth, and she answers by quickly bobbing her head on it, getting it perfectly wet for her fuckholes. She doesn't care about the cars passing through the lot and watching; all she wants is to be a good girl full of cock.

"Where do you want it first, pussy or ass?" you ask Eunha. "Pussy, daddy," she says, and you follow. You truly missed that tight pink hole of hers, groaning as soon as you get in. "And how do you say it?" you ask her. "Please, daddy, fuck my pussy," Eunha answers.

You pump Eunha's pussy at a steady pace, her making tons of effort not to moan and get noticed by someone else. Instead, you're the one groaning as her tight hole squeezes your fat cock quite hard. "Say thank you, Daddy," you tell her, giving her ass another spank. "Thank you, Daddy, for having such a big cock for this little bunny," she answers.

"Such a good whore, getting daddy's cock for everyone in the street to watch; I hope they film us and sell the tape," you say to Eunha. "Oh, oh, oh, ohhhh," Eunha softly moans as you attack her little pussy. You keep groaning as Eunha's walls tighten around your shaft, more so when you spank her ass.

"Come here, clean it," you say after a while. "You made my cock very dirty with that slutty pussy," you continue. Eunha promptly follows your orders, ducking down to taste her juices. "Good girl," you say as she licks the side of your shaft and then takes it deep in her throat before you grab her head and speed up the process by fucking her face.

You lift Eunha's right legs up and spread them until her boots hit the door of the car on the opposite side. With her in prime position, you get back to fuck her pussy from behind while reaching to grab her hair. You fuck her harder this time, Eunha's legs barely able to stay at the car's door while her pussy feels the wrath of your cock. "Are you struggling, whore? Maybe you shouldn't have cheated on me, stupid bunny," you say to her, spitting on her face.

You completely dominate Eunha, now reaching one hand to finger her pussy as you pound it. You fuck her full of rage, punishing her nonstop for being such a bad bunny. You now even stretch her mouth with both hands, humilating her at any possible opportunity.

"Get down, bitch, you are getting too much fun from my cock; now clean it again," you say to Eunha, stopping fucking her pussy and going straight to more facefucking. "Filthy little whore," you say, spitting on her face before doing some cock slapping and then face slapping. "Time to get on your feet; this round is over; I'm taking you somewhere else," you tell her.

You walk Eunha across the neighborhood, never missing a chance to spank her pale butt and make it even redder. You two finally reach your destination, a shabby alleway in front of some long abandoned buildings. You keep spanking her pussy and tits at the alleway. "You like it?" you ask her. "Yes, daddy, spank me; I'm a bad bunny," Eunha says.

You follow what she asks, hitting Eunha's whole pale body with a whip. Her thicc thigs, her beautiful face, her perky tits, her pink pussy, nothing escapes your wrath. "Turn around," you say, delivering some pain to her ass next. "Look at you; you're all dirty," you tell her. 

"Eunha, I'm still being very soft to you; you know I can spank you much harder than that, right?" you ask her. "Of course, daddy, spank me harder, I beg," she says. "Alright, I won't deny it," you tell her, hitting her ass at full speed now. Eunha seems to take it fairly easy. Her pale skin has made her the target of much spanking over the course of her career, to the point that she's addicted to it. "Daddy, I think you're going to make me cum just by spanking me," she says.

"Not yet; you aren't clear to cum yet. And you know what? This filthy alleway is the perfect place to clean your dirty hole," you say to her. "But first, you have to beg it for me," you tell Eunha.

"Please, daddy, fuck my ass," Eunha answers. You like that she already knows what hole you were talking about. "Say it again," you tell Eunha, but you actually block her from answering by shoving your cock in her mouth once again. "Please, daddy, fuck my tight, dirty, slutty ass," she says as soon as your cock is out of her mouth.

You turn Eunha around at the alleway and put your cock in her ass, her tight hole making you struggle to put in there. Eunha clings her head against the wall, trying to cope with your thrusts. "Ohhhh, ohhhhh, ahhhhh, ahhhhh, yesss," Eunha moans as you pick up the speed. You also groan, trying to dig deeper in her anus and pushing really hard. "I'm so thankful for having a daddy that fucks me so good in the ass," Eunha says in between meany moans.

"Holy sh*t, you're such a fucking tight bitch even though you get fucked in the ass every day," you say to Eunha. "Yes, daddy, I always make sure to make things very difficult for your big fat cock or for other cocks when I'm being a bad bunny and cheating on you," Eunha answers, confessing last night wasn't the first time she did it.

"Let me sit; I want to see you bouncing on that cock," you say to Eunha, never pulling out of her at any second. You lie on the dirty sidewalk floor as she impales her dirty butthole on your cock and rides it like a champ, giving you a privileged view of her fat ass. "Come on, stupid bitch, just bounce," you tell her. Eunha follows and picks up the pace, getting your cock all the way inside her tight asshole.

"Good girl," you say to Eunha as the sounds of her cheeks clapping on your pants get louder. "Yeah," she moans, grinning her teeth as your big cock seems to be too much for her tiny butthole.

"Get up," you tell Eunha, asking her to pull out of your cock. "Now sit down and suck it clean; I want you to get your dirty anus off my cock," you say to her, shoving it in her face once more and pushing her head against your manhood. "Fuck yeah, you like being fucked in the ass like this?" you ask her. "Yes, daddy," Eunha answers.

"There you go," you say as you force your cock balls deep in Eunha's mouth until she gags. She goes insane and starts licking your balls. "You're such a nasty girl, aren't you?" you ask her, grabbing your cock and slapping in on her face while spitting on her.

You fuck Eunha's pussy hard and fast for a little bit, punishing the slutty bunny with a hard pounding as a guy appears on the street. "Turn around, against the wall," you order to Eunha, letting the guy grope her tits while you spank her. Eunha bends over and shows her ass to the dude as you hit her big butt.

"Dirty slut, your punishment is far from over," you say to her, lifting the bar of her skirt. You take Eunha to a playground, tying her up to one of the equipments and putting a blindfold in her eyes. Eunha's body is completely suspended as you put your cock back in her ass. "I'm ready to use that asshole a little more," you say to her, toying as your cock goes in and out of her anus. 

"Fuck, ahhhh," Eunha moans as you thurst your cock deep in her ass and finger her horny cunt, her legs fully spread and suspended in the air as you fuck her ass in a missionary position. "Please, daddy, keep fucking my ass," a blindfolded Eunha says as you increase the pace, finger-fucking her pussy as well at the same pace you attack her asshole. You spank her pale butt like always, leading to more moans from the porcelain princess.

"Dadddy, can you fuck my pussy too?" Eunha asks. You accept it and switch holes, taking her cunt even harder as her body jiggles all over the playground equipment with the speed of your thrusts. Some kids appear at the playground, but you just don't care; to you, they will just be having a free class of sex education. Besides them, a stranger appears and gets side by side with you, who lets him finger Eunha's pussycat and eventually gets inside it.

You step aside as the stranger fucks Eunha's pussy. "Have fun," you tell him. The guy seizes the opportunity, pounding Eunha hard as you spit in her blindfolded face. "Stupid slut, can't resist any cock that comes in your way, can't you?" you say to Eunha, jerking your cock off and slapping on her face while the stranger fucks her hard and spanks her butt too.

"You like his cock, don't you?" you ask Eunha. "Yes, daddy, I can't help myself; I'm a bad bunny that loves cock," she answers. "Do you want him to cum in your pussy?" you ask her. "Yes, Daddy, would you let him?" she asks.

But the authrorization doesn't even need to come, as you inserting a vibrator on Eunha's clit makes her walls clench harder, making the stranger unable to resist as he fills her pussy full of his cum. You uncover Eunha's eyes, letting her enoy her cunt getting stuffed to the brim of a stranger's semen, much to her glee.

You and the stranger take Eunha under a shabbed railway bridge in the worst part of the neighborhood as you three go down an access stairway full of graffiti defacements and dirty walls. "Let's have some fun," you say, stripping Eunha fully naked and offering her to the strange. "Make him happy, you dirty slut," you continue, spanking her ass with the whip once more.

Eunha unbuttons the stranger's shorts, jerking his cock off until it gets hard again. She can feel the remnants of his sperm still covering his shaft. You get Eunha on her knees and push her to suck his cock; all that while you spank her back, make things worse for the horny bunny. Eunha savors his shaft under your watch as the stranger gropes her tits.

After some jerking off, you take your cock back in Eunha's pussy, making her get spit-roasted alongside the stranger. You fuck her furiously, spanking her tits and making her pay for being such a cockslut. Eunha gets completely bent over as she pleases both cocks.

"Where do you want our cum, you fucking slut?" you ask her. "In my ass," Eunha answers, prompting you to pull out and deliver her a nice fat load in her pretty slutty face as the stranger can't also resist the warmth of her mouth and soon glazes it with his cum. "What a cum bunny you are, dirty bitch," you say to her, spitting on her cum-filled face once again. "Thank him, bitch," you say to her. "Thank you," Eunha politely says to the stranger as he leaves.

The humiliation isn't over for Eunha though, far from it. You make her walk her across the neighborhood with both of your cum in her face, taking Eunha to the busiest square at the place. Where you take the jacket you had put on her and strip her completely naked once again, taking her back home with no clothes on.

Or so she thought.

To punish Eunha, you decide to go back where it all began, tying her to the garbage can as the pickup truck comes to take the used condoms she wore yesterday, showing what you truly think about her: a filthy, dirty, worthless horny whore that is completely disposable after sex.

A few hours later

It's freezing cold outside, and Eunha remains tied to the trash can. You finally have mercy on the little bunny and bring her back inside your house. Her skin is so pale now she looks like Snow White.

Eunha gets tied up and her body suspended in the air as you start to ask her some questions, ready for a night of dominance. "You look like such an innocent bunny; why are you here?" you start. "I want Daddy to give me as much pain as possible," she answers. "You better be very obedient, because if you don't behave, I'll deliver double the pain," you say to her.

"Yes, daddy, I'm so addicted to the way you spank my porcelain skin," Eunha says. You tease her, touching her body from top to bottom, before pinning her against the wall hard. "Look me in the eye and say it," you tell Eunha. "I want to be spanked, Daddy," Eunha answers. "Why, bunny?" you ask her. "Because I deserve it for being a bad cheating bunny," you say.

You start touching Eunha's pussy, edging her, and then stopping it. "You see, baby, I can give you the pleasure, but I can also take it away," you tell her. "Whatever you want, Daddy," Eunha says. "Then let me do it, Bunny," you say, making her moan hard. "AHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHHH," Eunha moans. "Are you going to cum?" you ask her. "Yes, daddy, I'm going to cum," she says.

"No, you're not," you tell Eunha, pulling your hands out of her pussy and denying her an orgasm. You bring out the vibrator and start stimulating her again, showing her your intentions. "I'm going to fuck your throat, your pussy and your ass; use you like a little toy; is that what you want?" you ask. "Yes, daddy," she answers.

"You wanna cum?" you ask her again. "DADDY, I'M GONNA CUM," she answers, begging for it as you put the vibrator in her pussy and spank her tits. "OHHHHH," she screams. "Is that what you want, little bunny? Then say it to me," you ask again. "I'M GONNA CUM, I'M GONNA CUM, I'M GONNA CUM, PLEASE DADDY LET ME CUM," she screams. "PLEASE DADDY, PLEASE," she keeps screaming, running out of breath.

You push Eunha's body down until her face gets lined up against your shaft, feeding her mouth with your cock. She bobs her head on it, but not for long as you take the initiative and fuck her throat until she gags, reaching it balls deep in her mouth. "Yes, daddy, feed me that big cock," Eunha begs and gets it as her face gets pounded like it's a second pussy and she chokes all over it.

"Open your fucking mouth, bunny," you say, spitting on Eunha's face. "Keep it open; I'll take it all the way down," you say as saliva comes out of Eunha's chin. You use it to lube your hands and massage her needy cunt until Eunha squirts all over the floor.

"Please, daddy, use me harder," Eunha says as you suspend her body back up, lining your cock to her pussy and inserting it inside her. "FUCK," Eunha gasps, already very sensitive from your edging session. "H YEAH, DADDY, USE MY PUSSY," Eunha says. "Beg harder," you tell her, pulling out after a couple thrusts. "PLEASE, DADDY, MAY I HAVE YOUR BIG FAT COCK IN MY SLUTTY BUNNY PUSSY?" Eunha screams.

"Do you think you're ready?" you say, spanking her pussy. "Yes, daddy, I'm more than ready," Eunha answers. You spank her butt and then go back in her pussy, grabbing her by the ass and fucking her hard, making her body shake as you clap hard against her cheeks. "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!" Eunha screams nonstop. "AHHHHHHH," she says as she squirts on your naked body.

"Fucking taste it, you bunny slut," you tell Eunha, feeding her juices straight into her mouth. "You want more?" you ask her. "Yes, daddy, please, give me more," Eunha answers as you do just that, fucking her pussy hard. "OHHHHH YESSSS, MAKE ME CUM, DADDY," she moans.

"No," you stop. "You will only cum when I say so," you say, smacking her pussy and enjoying the squirting coming out of it. "AHHHHHH," Eunha screams as she cums. "Thank you, Daddy," she says, looking like an utterly submissive bunny.

You give more hard thrusts into Eunha's sensitive cunt, enjoying the clapping sounds that come out of your bodies colliding against each other. You choke her and then turn her around, starting spanking her fat ass cheeks. "AHHHHH, DADDDY," she screams. "Thank you, Daddy," she then says as they turn red.

"I didn't tell you to speak," you say to Eunha, kissing the bunny and punishing her by jerking your cock off against her clit, making her squirt before pounding her like a crazy. "OH GOD, YES, YES, YES, DADDDY," Eunha screamed. "Thank you, Daddy," she says again as you pull out and stare at her.

You untie Eunha, dropping her at the stairs of your house and opening her legs, tying her up to the handrail before you insert your cock in her ass. "Yes, daddy, please, fuck my ass," she begs. "Yes, daddy, stretch my ass," Eunha begs as you go deeper in it and spank her tits. "You're such a bad bunny," you say.

You show no mercy to Eunha's tight butthole, making things harder for the little bunny as you play with her pussy. "OH FUCK DADDY!" Eunha screams. She whispers inaudible words to you as you keep spanking her whole body. "AHHHHH," Eunha screams as you hit her nipples hard. You tease her cunt with more rubbing. "Ohhh, daddy, please, make me squirt," Eunha begs as you resume the anal pounding, leading her to moan with her mouth wide open.

"Fuck, yes, daddy, yes, daddy," Eunha moans as you now choke her and destroy her butthole. "AHHHHHH," Eunha screams as your cock hits the depths of her anus. You look at your dirty bunny girlfriend calling you Daddy, her pale skin now completely red. "Take every inch of your cock inside me, AHHHHHHH," Eunha moans. 

"Spank my tits, daddy, choke me," Eunha begs as you fuck her harder, getting more and more animalesque. "OHHHHHH," she screams as the spanking never stops. Her tits, her cheeks, her face—everything is a target.

"I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, please, daddy, let me cum again," Eunha says, but you ignore her, saying focused on fucking her ass. Her thicc thighs and big butt are now almost with her flesh exposed after so much spanking.

"Oh yes," you say as Eunha starts letting out a geyser of squirt out of her pussy. "AHHHHHH," the little bunny screams as you stare at her wasted face, never pulling out of her ass and pushing it deep, making her squirt again almost as if the tip of your cock had pressed some kind of button buried in her anus. 

Eunha squirts multiple times with the anal session you give her. "OH GOD, FUCK ME, DADDY," she screams and begs. "Daddy, it feels so good," she says as you can't stop destroying her butthole and enjoy her squirt all over the stairs steps. "Fuck daddy, you use my ass so good; I want more; I'm a needy bunny for daddy's cock," Eunha says.

"Then turn around," you tell her. Eunha obliges as you tie her knees to the stairs, and your cock quickly finds her already sore butthole for more fun. "Oh yeah, you're so deep, daddy," Eunha moans, more so when you turn her cheeky butt into your prime target of spankings. Eunha's cheeks get massacred, getting hit every time you hit deep in her ass. You enjoy seeing the exposed red flesh from so many hits you deliver on them, only pushing you to go harder. Despite all that pounding, her asshole is still as tight as ever and queefs with your cock inside it. 

Spank, spank, spank. That's all you do now. "Daddy, you're gonna make me cum with so much spanking," Eunha says as she gets used like a little toy. A fuckbunny. "Pull my hair, Daddy," she pleads, and you follow. "I'm your dirty little slut daddy; yes, daddy, treat me like a free use fuckhole," she begs, her body shaking with the speed of your poundings.

"Daddy, you like making bunny cum?" Eunha asks you. "Yes, I love using that bunny until she cums," you tell her, staying focused on pounding her ass. Eunha is completely wasted, but she doesn't want you to stop, jiggling her butt as you fuck it. "I'M CUMMING FOR YOU, DADDY," Eunha announces. You slow down, toying with her gaped anus going in and out of it, giving her sensitive hole a little stabbing. 

But your kindness is short-lived. You soon mount on top of Eunha and deliver her the most aggressive anal pounding of the night. "OH FUCK, YOU'RE HITTING ME SO DEEP, DADDY," she screams. Eunha's ass gets used hard as you are like a raging bull fucking a cow—I mean, a bunny. Your thrusts are full of energy and power, making Eunha roll her eyes as she struggles to cope with the heat.

"I'll do anything for you, Daddy," Eunha says. "Well, then let me use that big, fat, cheeky, red ass," you say, tossing all adjectives about her butt while pounding it hard. "I'm a bad bunny," Eunha says. "Yes, you are," you tell her, choking your slutty girlfriend.

"AHHHHHH," Eunha moans as she cums again. You spank her butt multiple times after pulling out of her ass. "Yes, daddy, harder," she begs. "You want more?" you ask her. "Yes," she answers. "Beg," you reply. "Yes, daddy, please, give me more; spank me like a bad bunny, harder," she says.

After beating Eunha's cheeks like a drum, you reach to finger her throbbing pussy, making her moan and then hitting her every time she screams. "Stay quiet, bitch, I'm going to punish you," you answer, getting back in Eunha's ass and fucking her like crazy, showing no mercy for her and not getting her feeling getting in the way of your anal destruction. "Oh yeah, daddy, you fuck that tight little asshole so well," she says.

The stairs creak as Eunha screams and groans. You finally stop as Eunha begs you to cum again, whispering like a needy bunny. "I need you; I need you; please, Daddy," she says, very out of breath.

"Then come here," you tell Eunha, tying her arms to the ceilling by a chain. "That's right, bunny, sit right down this cock," you command to her as Eunha drops down it with her ass. "OHHHHHHH," she gasps as your length impales her. "Ohhhhh, daddy, ahhhh," Eunha moans as she starts bouncing on it, her legs spread at 180 degrees. "Oh fuck, it feels so good in my ass," she moans.

"That's it, little bunny; now I'm taking control," you say, pounding her from down low. "AHHHHHHH," Eunha squeals as your cock drills her asshole one final time. You manhandle her queefing anus, groaning like a monster and massaging her cunt to make her squirt. "OHHHHHH FUCKKKK!" Eunha screams. She gets pounded to oblivion, losing sight of her surroundings.

"YES DADDY, YES, DADDY, YES DADDY, FUCK ME, FUCK ME, FUCK ME, I'M GONNA CUM," Eunha says, losing her breath and grinding on your cock. "Please, make me cum," Eunha moans as she's basically levitating with your thursts. "Take it all," you say, your balls smashing against her clit. "Yes, daddy, I will take all that cock in my a... fuck," Eunha moans. You and her reach orgasm at the same time as she squirts on your body and you explode inside her asshole.

Eunha grinds on your cock as your cum flows out of her asshole. You free her and start jerking your cock off against her face. "I think I'm going to cum again; you're just too sexy, Eunha," you say to her. "Cum for me, daddy, cum for your little bunny," she says, sticking her tongue out. Her pretty face begging for it makes you lose it again, covering her blonde hair and sexy face with your white seed shortly after again.

"Thank you, Daddy," Eunha says as she licks your shaft and cleans it one final time. You go to bed and leave Eunha lying on the floor at the stairs, her body full of cum as you finish punishing that bad bunny. "You'll be sleeping here tonight," you say to her.

"The next day you wake up and don't find Eunha there, until you go to the kitchen and find a scene that makes you spill your milk: Eunha upside down and completely tied up. As she sees you, she asks you something.

"Daddy, can you punish me again?"

[wildfairies]

things that are bothering me the most:

antaam stuff makes no sense, full stop. it's also explained poorly/insufficiently.

most of what we see of rivain is completely uninhabited. i also don't care about more warden shit there, i was looking forward to more lore on rivaini people and culture, especially the seers obviously, we've been dying to know more about them for three games.

every elf we've met is ok with the huge revelations that their gods aren't what they seemed and this process happened offscreen. i would think there would be many different reactions to the spread of info about the evanuris, and i would think it would be extremely important to make it clear that info had spread pre-game.

the venatori are the same nonsensical vague useless boring cult with the most nothing goals. as incredibly lame as they are, it's even stretching my suspension of disbelief that they'd serve elven gods for vague promises of 'power' given tevinter's extreme history with the elves. i would think this would come up at least one single time.

the past two points are part of an overarching issue. the contentious and complex political landscape of thedas that makes the setting interesting feels flat. i'm supposed to believe NO ONE in super-elf-racist tevinter would blame the elves for their gods terrorizing thedas? even inquisition acknowledged this, w solas/inky showing concern that revealing the orb was elven would lead to elf racism.

i'm supposed to believe NO elves who've been oppressed by humans for centuries would think 'fuck them' and join up? what happened to the elves who joined solas at the end of trespasser when they heard he was trying to bring back their empire? at least inquisition had wacky cults for every side.

walking down the street in minrathous as an elf or qunari with no difference is simply absurd, i would literally rather never visit tevinter if they were going to implement it so toothlessly. where is the immediate opinion hit for being a mage/elf the inky takes in orlais???

yes the tone is off and a little shallow. yes the companions communicate too healthily for my tastes. yes i was dreading 'evanuris are behind everything' lore reveals and that's what we got. but i honestly think i could overlook those things if the above problems were solved and it felt like the same immersive, problematic thedas.

i'm so completely infuriated by the worldstate choices i'm going to make a separate post about it. but yeah i was concerned but made no noise, i was willing to wait it out and see how the three choices played out in game. and it's absolutely ridiculous that so far two out of fucking three have basically no impact, and the last one idgaf about unless inky romanced solas. i'm so so so so mad and disappointed about this, especially after staying open-minded when it was initially revealed.

everyone loves companion quests, so i don't know why the game feels like it needs to sell you on their significance. why did we get two different scenes of varric spelling it out to rook: do the companion side quests, or else they won't be able to focus! it's such a weird and superfluous tie-in. i don't get why they went so out of their way to clarify this when it didn't need to be clarified, companion side quests are expected in rpgs and their relevance to the plot is very easily accepted/overlooked.

[kpop---scenarios]

Whispers of the Night (1)

Pairing: Stray Kids x Reader

Genre: Vampire! Au, College! Au

Warning: Cheating, Drinking, Shitty Boyfriend etc. This is an 18+ only story, there will contain alot of smut in later chapters

Summary: You just want to live a happy life, but currently, that wasn't happening. It's not until you meet 8 strangers who turn your life upside down and you discover what they are.

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: If you want to be tagged in this series, please let me know! Comments, likes and reblogs with tags are strongly encouraged! Also a big thank you to @skzdust for reading it and helping with ideas!!

Everything Taglist:

@wife2straykidss @piscesrising01 @baby-stay92 @kisses-too-the-moon

@dwaekkiiracha @silly250 @rylea08 @imperfectlyperfectprincess1

@satosugu4l @gabriellamarie @tsunderelino @iovecb97

@1810cl @lordmaahes-nsc @sailorkoss @minh0scat

@pixie0627 @50-husbands @jinnies-muse @yaorzu-blog

@anskiiz @joyofbebbanburg @number1jeonginstan @skzooluvr

@jisunglyricist @ambersnowxxx @ayyonoona @31maze13

@stay-tiny-things @thegingerthatwaited @hoesheez @stayatinykatsy

@catlove83

A year ago, if someone asked you where you pictured yourself a year later, you would have blushed at the question and immediately began to gush about your boyfriend, Mark. Talking about how you'd be with him, you were going to marry him one day when you both graduated college, and live this blissful, happy life.

What a load of shit.

Here you were, having just had your second anniversary with Mark and you were more miserable than You had ever been in your life. Your relationship with Mark was nowhere near what it used to be, and you didn't know what to do. You had tried everything you could think of to bring that spark back between the two of you, to bring the happiness back but Mark seemed to be on such a downward spiral and he had no problem dragging you down alongside him.

“I'm going to class.” You murmur, walking out of your shared bedroom, not even waiting for him to respond. It was the first day of your sophomore year and he obviously wasn't getting up to go to his own class, but there was no chance in hell you were missing the first day, not since you changed your major at the end of last year and now you had almost all the hardest professors on campus. Your stomach was in knots as you clung to your notebook, your heavy backpack already making your back ache as you walked from your off campus apartment to the school. Luckily you were only a few blocks away, but fuck, if you had to carry this bag everyday, you swore your back might just break.

You stand at the lights, waiting for the walk signal when you feel a presence beside you. You felt calm, safe, almost tingly. It was the way Mark had made you feel in the beginning of your relationship, part of you thought that it was him beside you. You turn your head to look, seeing a tall man with dark hair and flawless skin. His jaw clenched as you took him in. Your eyes trailed down to his lips, where you swear you almost saw a smirk, he was one of the most handsome men you'd ever seen, and to be honest, something inside you was begging you to talk to him. Your mind races, and blanks all at the same time. You move your leg to step out onto the road when you're suddenly pulled back. A few seconds later, a car speeds past the two of you. Your mouth hangs open, as you stare at the man who just saved you.

Seconds later the walk light flashes, the beeping startles you. The man laughs, turning to glance at you. “Have a good day, y/n. And be careful.” He murmurs, hurriedly walking in front of you.

How did he know your name? How were his reflexes so fast? You would definitely have remembered if you'd ever seen him before. You quickly start walking, trying to catch up to the man but as you get across the street and look up, he's nowhere to be found. You shake your head, continuing on your journey towards your first class - psychology. You had reluctantly chosen this one last, unsure of how well you'd do in the class but alas, it was needed so you would try your best.

As you walk through campus you smile and nod your head to a few others who you had become acquaintances with last year. You walked towards your building, anxious to see if you knew anyone taking the class with you, it always made you feel better to have a friend. Mark was supposed to be in this class but when you had told him you signed up for it, he dropped it the next day. That stung quite a lot, he used to want to spend a lot of time with you. He loved hanging out, doing whatever random activity at any time. And now you were lucky if he was even in the same room as you. Your confidence took a hit with every interaction with him, and to be completely honest, you weren't sure how much longer you were going to be able to put up with his shit.

You walked into the already packed classroom, only a few random seats were left available.

“Note to self, get here really fucking early next time.” You murmur to yourself, heading to the front row, which was the only row where there were enough empty spots that you didn't have to sit next to anyone. You got nervous around strangers. There was too much word vomit on your part, and this year you really needed to buckle down.

No distractions, and you were confident in that. Until a very visible distraction walked into your class. Another overly handsome, flawless skin, body, smile, flawless everything man, who made his way towards you. You could feel the tingles jolting through your body as you watch him walk directly towards you, his face now stone cold as he sets his belongings down, taking the empty seat beside you.

Right beside you. Even though there were 3 others on each side of you he could have chosen from.

“HI.” He whispers, leaning over close to you. You turn your head, instantly getting a whiff of his cologne, he smelled so fucking good.

“Um, hi.” You whisper back, looking away. He made the butterflies in your stomach flutter.

“I'm Jeongin. It's nice to meet you, y/n.” He whispers. His voice is deep but not too deep, it's so velvety, it gives you shivers.

As you were about to turn and ask him how he knew your name, your professor walked in. Jeongin's face turned back to being stone cold as he looked straight ahead, listening to the introductions. Your head was spinning, your ears were ringing. Two equally attractive men talking to you in one day, had you flustered as fuck. You didn't say this often lately, but you couldn't wait to go home.

The rest of the day passed in the blink of an eye, with no more handsome strangers who knew your name coming up to you. You breathed a sigh of relief the second you stepped into your apartment. You set your belongings down, walking into the kitchen only to find Mark sitting in front of the TV, playing video games.

“How were your classes?” He asks, his eyes never leaving the screen.

“Fine. I'd ask you how yours were, but you didn't go.” You sigh.

“Yeah, listen, you have any money? I'm going to meet some friends later at the bar.” Mark says, still never looking away from the screen.

“No, my loans haven't come in yet.” You murmur. They did, but if Mark knew that, he'd drain you of all the money you had. He was extremely financially irresponsible. His parents sent him enough money for rent, utilities, groceries and some fun every month and every month he blew through it all like it was nothing, only paying a few things here and there, leaving everything else to fall on you.

“Fuck sakes.” He groans. “I guess I'll call my mom.” He murmurs.

He refused to get a job, but would happily call mommy and daddy to bail him out. And they would. You wished you had that luxury, you had been on your own since you were 16, and life had never been kind to you.

A little while later, Mark emerges from your shared room, dressed up, a smile on his face as he laughs at his phone. He slips it into his pocket after replying to a message, and casually leaves the apartment without saying a word to you.

This. This apparently was your new normal. You sighed loudly and deeply, going through the evening motions. Eating, watching a show, mindlessly scrolling through tiktok or Facebook, getting ready for bed, and falling asleep, dreaming of a happier life.

The next morning, you were up at 5:30am, mentally berating yourself for accepting a 7:00am class. Summertime you had been more confident in the fall you, to be able to get up and survive the day. You hated the summertime you.

Your eyes were still half closed as you made your early morning walk to campus. Mark hadn't even come home, and your heart was feeling a little shattered. You wandered around campus, realizing you had way more time before class. You decided to go to the bathroom and then grab a coffee from the campus shop. You groggily push the bathroom door open, closing your eyes as you walk in, just for a second, until you hear a man clearing his throat. Your eyes shoot open, seeing a handsome blonde man standing before you, washing his hands.

“Wrong bathroom, love.” He smiles.

“Oh my god… I'm so sorry.” You panic, turning around to grab the door and rush out of there. You pull the door open but before you leave, he says one last thing.

“It was nice to meet you, y/n.” He says, his voice even deeper than Jeongins. Your heart races. You don't turn around, you walk out of the bathroom, trying to breathe as your head spins. You completely forget about the fact you needed to use the bathroom and head straight for the coffee shop.

You stand in line, looking at the menu, trying to decide which one will wake you up the most because clearly you're in desperate need of it. When you decide, it's your turn at the counter. You look at the barista and are slightly taken aback. He's absolutely gorgeous, like the 3 other men you had seen over the last day or so. He's a little shorter but fucking muscular, with a dazzling smile.

“What can I get for you?” He smiles.

“Uh…um… iced americano, with a shot of espresso please.” You half mumble. He smiles at you, turning around to make your drink. You fumble in your bag for your wallet, grabbing your card while you wait for your drink and to pay. Not long later, he slides your drink towards you, his smile still there.

“It's on the house today.” He says.

“Oh… thank you.” You smile.

This was a good interaction. At least he didn't know your name.

“Have a good day, y/n.” He smiles. You look at him shocked but at that point he's already helping someone else.

What the fuck was going on?

The day continued to drag on, you wanted to doze off in all your classes, the coffee didn't help, not even a little bit. When your last class ended at 2pm, you sluggishly made your way back to your apartment, dreaming of your bed even more than you had this morning. You don't even care that when you get home Mark isn't home. You don't care that you haven't heard from him all night or all day. All you care about is the fact that you're home and you can nap without any interruptions and then make yourself a delicious meal when you wake up, but nothing in your life ever goes to plan.

You stretch a few times, feeling like you had slept for 12 hours at least but you knew it had only been a few, until you look at your phone.

“How the fuck is it 7:00am!?” You groan, crawling out of your bed. You hadn't eaten, showered, or done anything except slept for 16 hours and still, unsurprisingly hadn't heard a word from Mark. You quickly shuffle around the house, making yourself some breakfast and some coffee, considering the coffee you had gotten yesterday tasted like ass and did nothing for you. While that brewed you took a shower, washing the confusion of the last few days off of you, in hopes today would be a better day.

You were hypervigilant on your walk to campus, paranoid that there was going to be another man you didn't know but who somehow knew you coming out of the woodwork. There had been four already but there couldn't possibly be anymore. Right?

Wrong.

You wander through campus after your first two classes, not feeling very hungry for lunch. You look down at your phone, texting your friend Sam, who was due to return home from her holidays in a few days and you couldn't wait to see her. And tell her about all the shit Mark had put you through. She was going to love it. No one hated him more than she did, and she was proud of it. You laugh at her last text, moving to reply when you bump into something concrete, dropping your phone to the ground. You groan, bending down to pick it up when you see four legs standing in front of you.

Oh christ. “Here we go.” You mumble, picking up your phone, standing up. You felt almost breathless looking at the two men standing before you. One was so beautiful, his smiling face almost made you blush, whereas the other one, who was equally as handsome, had a stone cold face and a cold demeanor.

“You should watch where you're walking, y/n.” The stone cold man murmurs. “You never know who's going to be around.” He finishes. He gives you a small smirk, before stepping around you, leaving the other one there with you. “See you around, y/n.” He winks, walking away to catch up with the other one.

This week was way too fucking long already. You needed a goddamn drink.

Thursday rolled around, and nothing exciting, nothing out of the ordinary happened. It was finally a normal day and you were so unbelievably thankful for that but it also partially bummed you out. As weird as this entire week had been, you had been sort of looking forward to having the unexpected moments with the gorgeous strangers.

That evening you went home, and to your surprise, Mark was back.

“Where have you been?” You ask, setting your things down on the table.

“I was just with the boys, y/n. Christ, what's with the third degree?” He snaps.

“With the boys since Monday? And what? Unable to call or even text that you were okay?” You snap.

“Fuck, You always do this. I'm sorry I don't involve you in every single fucking plan I make, mom.” He spits. You just roll your eyes and walk away. It wasn't worth it, and once you got your shit sorted out, you'd be gone. You were done. You walk into your room, closing the door and locking it behind you. Sam was back tomorrow and you couldn't wait.

Friday afternoon, you skipped out of the lecture hall of your last class, ready to get home and get ready. You were meeting Sam at both of your favorite bars and you were over the moon excited. You probably should have slowed down, or at least watched where you skipped but for now it was too late. You didn't see the broken concrete in front of you, making you trip. You squeezed your eyes tightly, waiting for the impact between you and the ground but it didn't come. You open one eye, seeing a sexy man, smiling at you, holding you in his arms.

“Woah there.” He laughs. “That could have ended very badly.” He finishes, standing you up straight like it was nothing.

“You really need to be more careful, y/n.” Another voice chimes in. You turn to look to see another man, longer black hair, plump lips and a gorgeous face.

What the fuck were these men drinking here?

“H-how…” you begin but you're cut off.

“Pay attention, y/n.” The one who caught you says, before they walk but almost glide away. You shake your head, not wanting to let the interaction stop you from enjoying your night out with Sam. When you get home Mark is nowhere to be found and frankly, you were pretty happy about that. You quickly begin getting ready as your class had gotten out late and Sam was already at the bar waiting for you.

It took you seconds to spot her. The screech that came out of each of you had all the patrons glaring at the two of you as you hugged and jumped around. Not seeing her for three months had been exceptionally hard and you both had so much to fill each other in on.

Three hours and multiple drinks later, you were drunk, spilling your guts about Mark. “And he only came home yesterday! That fucking asshole.” You scoff.

“Wait… let me get this straight… you're telling me he went out and was gone for days without a word and got mad at you for being concerned!?” She yells.

“Yeah! Make that make sense!” You murmur.

“I'm telling you, y/n, there's much better options out there.” She sighs.

You knew there was. And when you were ready you were going to find those options. But first you needed to find somewhere to live and then you could move on. Luckily for you, the amount of money from your loans would be enough to cover a place for yourself for a while but having a roommate would be better. You couldn't tell her yet though, you needed to have everything organized first.

Hours and even more shots and drinks later, you and Sam stumble out of the bar, her holding you up and you attempting to hold her up. You're far more drunk than she is, with how your week had gone, you absolutely needed it but instead of sending you home alone, she brought you back to her parents house, where she was living so you could sleep it off. Her parents were strict and even though she was an adult, if she lived there she had to follow their rules which meant no drinking and no guests. Luckily for you, they were out of town until the next night so you were free to sleep peacefully. And you did, passing out the second your head hit the pillow.

The next morning, the two of you woke up, having breakfast. It helped your hangover and by the time you left her place to head back to your own apartment, you weren't feeling the effects of the night before. You were ready to have a good rest of your day, and you thought you would. You walked into your apartment and instantly something felt off. You looked down, seeing a pair of heels that definitely didn't belong to you.

“That motherfucker.” You mumble.

As quietly as you could, you tiptoed to your shared bedroom, pushing the door wide open. You see Mark laying there, a woman entangled with him as they both peacefully slept. How cute. It would be cuter if he wasn't supposed to remain faithful.

You quietly pull out your phone, snapping a few pictures of the two of them in bed together before you leave. Even though you were mentally checked out of the relationship, your heart was still very much in love with him. Or maybe it was in love with who he used to be. You always had a hope that a flip would switch and he would end up going back to how he was when you first started dating, but that guy… he would never have cheated on you.

You walked out of the apartment, unsure of where you were going to go. Sam was busy today with her parents returning in a few hours, and you didn't really have many other friends, at least not ones you were comfortable enough to call up and cry to. So you wandered. You wandered around the city for hours, until you ended up only a few blocks from campus and directly outside a bar you'd never been to before. As the sun sets, you pull open the door, ready to drink even more than you did the night before, needing to numb the pain in your heart.

After two doubles, you pulled out your phone to send Mark a text. You attached the picture you took of him and the woman, with the caption “I hope she was worth it. I'm done.” you pressed send, silencing your notifications, and turning your screen over onto the table. You didn't want to see his reply, or if he even did. You wanted to drink in complete peace. So that's what you did, until your head started to spin and you swore you started seeing things, like the man from your class who sat right next to you, Jeongin with the one who caught you when you tripped over the cement. You squint your eyes, just slightly, trying to stabilize your vision, but you weren't sure if it was working or not.

You stood up, ready to storm over there and demand answers. As you began to walk, someone grabbed onto your shoulder, pulling you and spinning you around.

“The fuck is this?” Mark spits, holding up his phone, showing the message you had sent him, along with all the texts he had sent back to you but you didn't know you got.

“That's you, laying in bed with a girl who isn't me!” You yell.

“So you're done. Just like that?” He asks.

“You fucking cheated on me! Yeah I'm fucking done.” You snap.

“You didn't come home! I didn't know what or who you were out doing! Excuse me for needing some physical touch and companionship!” He yells back.

“Are you kidding me? You were gone for four fucking days, and you know what I didn't do? I didn't cheat!” You scream. You can feel the eyes of everyone in the bar on the two of you. “I still had some hope that maybe you'd change and you'd be the guy I first fell in love with but that's gone now. He's gone. And so am I. I don't care, I'll move out, I'm just done.” You finish.

“Don't be so fucking dramatic, y/n.” He sighs, rolling his eyes. “Let's go. We're going home.” He says, grabbing onto your arm.

“I'm not going anywhere with you.” You say, trying to pull yourself out of his grip.

“Everything okay over here?” You hear from behind you, the voice is familiar.

“Who the fuck are you?” Mark yells. “Mind your business.”

“Well, when you're putting your hands on a woman, it kinda makes it our business.” The voice says.

“She's MY woman, so worry about someone else.” Mark replies.

“It doesn't sound like she is, so either let go of her, or we're gonna have a fucking problem.” The man snaps.

Mark doesn't let go. You turn your head, seeing Jeongin and the man who caught you, standing behind you, both of their faces stone cold and terrifying.

“Mark, you're hurting me.” You whisper, looking back at him.

“Chan…” Jeongin begins.

“You have no one. Nowhere to go, y/n. Don't be stupid.” Mark grunts.

“She does, actually.” Chan begins.

“She's coming home with us.”

[sugurusladyknightt]

➺ husband!sukuna x gn!reader (2/2).

• pt. 1

it's been quiet - the two days since your bloody midnight discovery in the bathroom. you'd taken him to the hospital the next morning to get checked and have his wound treated properly. you've been in the same car, you live in the same house, and yet sukuna feels like he hasn't heard your voice in years. only in passing have you addressed him and while he understands you're position, he will not allow himself to stand by idly as this goes on.

sukuna needs to speak to you, to hear you. to tease you and have you tease him back. he needs things to fall back into their rightful place, into the patterns yo both created, the the routine he's made himself so comfortable with.

but how can be complain? this is all of his own doing. his pride and ego have no place to interfere in this relationship, but that isn't even the problem anymore. he nervous and he's scared. what if he messes things up? what if he can't fix this? what if you finally decided he's too much?? what if he's really lost you now?? pushed you too far?

you hadn't let him do much, insisting he rests so the wound could heal properly and not risk it reopening. what if that's code for saying you don't want him around anymore?? that you don't need him? are you finally sick of him?

realistically, he should know that would never be the case, though he's so far into his own world of worries to think about the situation reasonably. his thoughts now only plagued with the possibility of his greatest fear being realized.

so when he hears your keys jingle and the front door open he panics. you hadn't said anything about leaving, so at the end of everything he isn't even afforded a goodbye??

without much thought given to the consequences his actions may have on his body, he's darting off your bed and down the stairs. sukuna catches your wrist right as you're going to open the car's door. when you turn to face him, confusion and annoyance evident in your expression, "sukuna, what the hell, you're gonna end up-"

he's looking at you so intensely when your eyes meet his. the towering pyjama clad form of your husband is accompanied by brows furrowed and bare feet on the gravel of your driveway in the middle of the quiet morning of your neighborhood street.

what a sight to behold.

he doesn't say anything for a long moment, still, you offer him time. always so damn patient with him it makes him feel like the only person in the world. there are butterflies fluttering around uninvited in his stomach when he thinks about it too much.

"where are you going." it comes off more like a statement than a question. in his mind he's already decided that he knows exactly what's going on, only waiting to hear you affirm it.

he feels a dull pain in his side but it's not difficult to ignore it with the ringing in his ears and loud thumping of his heart. he's scared, hiding behind his expression through a toughened exterior.

what a foolish man you've married.

"sukuna," your being your hand up to rest on the upper part of his tattooed armed, tracing the lines gently with the tips of your fingers. "i'm going grocery shopping. we need food, and gauze, some cleaning supplies, and... oh right! and laundry detergent. just sit tight for me, i'll be back soon."

the way his expression shifts to one of relief brings a smile to your face. he was so worried, too worried to even be embarrassed by the out of place reaction. his hand covered yours as it rests on his arm.

"i'll come with you?" this one he meant as a question. when you don't refuse, he takes your hand in his squeezing ever so gently; reassuring himself mostly "wait for me. i'll be quick."

sukuna's back inside your home, darting back up the stairs with different intentions this time around. as quickly as he can, he's dressing himself and making his way back down. now with a clear enough mind to actually slip on a pair of socks and shoes.

he's rushing, like there's an underlying fear you'll have already pulled out of the drive way when he gets there. a cruel joke you'll play as a final parting gift. you're not gone, he finds you there, leaning against the door to the drivers seat. waiting for him.

oh, the morning breeze has never felt so refreshing, the sun never so warm, and the world never so good.

this is you. he doesn't have to worry about cruel jokes, you're far to kind for that. he doesn't need his toughened exterior or towering posture when it's you. you won't play those torturous games with cruel intentions, won't leave without a goodbye. fear has no place between the two of you.

the drive starts of rather quiet, an air of awkward and nervous still lingers. you don't seem to feel it though, leading him to wonder if it's only one sided.

while he's debating on what's the right thing to say, your voice cuts through all the possible options, a familiar reminder you share with him every so often. this is a safe space. his words don't have to be perfect. they can come out choppy and incomplete so long as they're while in their honesty. so long as that's what he needs to say; what you need ti hear.

"i'm sorry."

a simple start, nothing spectacular, but it's a start nonetheless. your hands remain on the wheel as your eyes find his looking out the window. he's fidgeting with his hands like he doesn't know what they're for again; returning your focus on the road and let him continue.

"i-, i was reckless. again. and i'm sorry, i really didn't mean for it to happen it just — did. i'm sorry baby, i now i should avoid getting myself in situations like that. i honestly don't even know what really happened. i know it must be annoying and frustrating for you to always have to end up dealing with the aftermath of it. i understand that you're probably sick of it all by now, i'll do better. i'll be better. i promise."

he looks over to you from the passenger seat, expectant. almost inaudibly he adds, "don't leave."

you've made it to the grocery store by now, putting the car in park before you begin speaking.

"ryo, i appreciate your apology and i'll accept it, but baby, that's hardly what this is about. my anger, which really wasn't anger at all, came from a place of worry. of concern. not annoyance or frustration. much less directed at you! i love you. i love caring for you. i hate to see you hurt, but i'll never complain about treating you when you are. it means everything to me that your okay, healthy, safe. i was — i still am upset with how passive you are about those things when it comes to yourself. trying to treat such a serious wound like that?? be serious. i need you to prioritize these things more."

"you're my priority."

"to prioritize yourself is to prioritize me. we're married, dumbass. marr-ied. married. we're a team; that means that if one of us is compromised, so's the other. that how this works."

well, that's not at all what he was expecting. his mind had strayed so far in an entirely different direction. one where you finally tire of him. where you realize you could leave and go elsewhere — somewhere less bothersome. and he couldn't be any more wrong. sukuna has never considered that his actions won't raise feelings of annoyance but instead; worry for his wellbeing. worry because you care. because you love.

"i'll be better." he says.

"i believe you." you respond, so easily. as if trusting him is the easiest thing in the world to you. even when it was difficult for him to trust himself.

but why? he wants to ask. how are you so sure?

you only smile at him. just so damn patient, and the butterflies are back to spawning in his stomach again.

"okay cute, very nice. but we really have to go now. there's a sale and i know the lines are gonna be crazy."

god, those butterflies won't be stopping anytime soon.

~~

bonus(!!)

he's pushing the cart and leaning his still aching body over it to rest.

"you know, when you said that we're a team, the first thing to come to mind is those three-legged races"

"mhm, and we'd be falling all over the place thanks to you darling"

"please, we'd do great. in a worst case scenario, baby, i'll just drag you along. you're stuck with me"

"what-"

"not much you could do to stop me", a cheeky wolffish grin playing at his lips.

umm, alright then. psychopath.

[thebeast-dennis-etcetera]

Interference Part 2

Prompt: You run to your FBI neighbor when you and your boyfriend get into a fight.

Part 1

You shut your laptop with a frustrated sigh and crossed out the last address you had written down on your pad of paper. The last two days you had been searching for a place to rent, only to be turned down due to your bad credit or limited income. You didn’t have the privilege of asking your family for help, most of them had shunned you once you got into your relationship and the few that did still speak with you were in no position to lend you money.

Your phone rang again for the 3rd time in 30 minutes, a blocked number popping up on the screen. You had ignored it the last 2 times for the fear that it was your boyfriend, but he should still be in jail with no chance of making phone calls, right?

Deciding it wouldn’t really hurt to answer it, you slid the call open and instantly regretted it once the familiar devious voice spoke to you.

“Hello bird,” he greeted with fake sincerity, using the pet name he made for you as a jab at your eating habits. The fear shot through you just as hard as the other night, rendering you speechless.

“I’m out baby. I’ll be home soon and we can sit down and talk about everything. Hopefully you were able to get the house cleaned, it was a mess the last time I was there.”

He didn’t get a chance to say anything more before you ended the call. Anxiety and fear began creeping into your body, making you scramble to grab a luggage bag from the closet before shoving some clothes, toiletries, and your laptop in it. Running into the living room, you peeked out of the curtains, hoping to see Aaron’s car in the driveway. No such luck.

So grabbing your keys, you left the house, not even bothering to lock it and threw your luggage into the backseat of your car. You tore out of the driveway and down the street like a bat out hell, unsure exactly how far away your boyfriend was. As reckless as driving 50 in a residential was, you took your chances of being pulled over and put as much distance between you and that house before dialing Aaron’s number at a red light.

“Hotchner,” he answered professionally from the other line.

“Aaron. He got out. I don’t know how, maybe his mom paid his bail. He called me and said he was on his way to me.” Your words were fast and frantic. You would've continued rambling had Aaron not stopped you.

"Y/N. Just take a deep breath for me, alright?"

The light turned green and you did as he instructed, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, it doing very little to calm your frazzled nerves but appreciated it regardless.

"Now do you have anywhere you can go, maybe a friends house or family member? Somewhere you'd be safe?"

"No," you spoke. "I don't have any friends and most of my family disowned me when I got into this stupid relationship. The rest of them live on the West Coast."

There was a pause of silence as you felt him thinking over the phone. Most likely figuring out the easiest way to get rid of you and your problems.

"Alright. I have some down time before my meeting in an hour. Why don't you come by and we can figure out a plan. I'll send you the address, just take the elevator to the 4th floor."

A second later you felt the buzz of your phone from the incoming text message. "Ok. Thank you so much Aaron. And I'm so sorry for taking up your time." Tears threatened to fall but you held them back.

"Don't be sorry, Y/N. I want to help you. Don't worry, we'll get this all sorted out. Just text me when you arrive."

"I will," you replied before you both said goodbye and hung up. You put the address in your navigation and drove mindlessly through traffic, so many thoughts going through your head it made you want to scream.

The address wasn't too far from your own homes, arriving there in less than an hour and heading into the very drab looking building before taking the elevator, texting Aaron that you had arrived on the way up.

You had just made it to the front desk before seeing Aaron headed in your direction, giving the receptionist a small smile. "She's with me Lonnette, thank you."

You waited as Lonnette printed your visitor badge and handed it over with a friendly smile before following Aaron through the floor, passing by glass offices and cubicles. You were quiet, not really in the mood for small talk which you felt he sensed and didn't bother saying anything as he lead you up some stairs to an office that you presumed was his by the gold name plaque on his desk.

"Have a seat, please," he offered politely, closing the door and walking over to his side of the desk. "Would you like something to drink? Water? Coffee?"

You shook your head. "No thank you. I appreciate the offer though."

He unbuttoned his suit jacket and sat down, moving some files to the side. "So I'm genuinely surprised to hear that he's out of jail. You said you think his mother bailed him out?"

"Yeah. I don't think she knows anything about what happened but whenever he asks her for money, she just sends it to him. I think she feels guilty for never being in his life so giving him money when he needs it helps her feel better about it." You rung your hands together, anxious about the whole situation as well as being there, talking with a man that was pretty much a complete stranger, bugging him for help.

"And he called you afterwards, telling you that he was on his way? Did he seem upset?" His tone was curious as if trying to get every piece of puzzle to fit perfectly in order to build an accurate idea of who your boyfriend was. It made sense considering his profession.

"I don't know. He's really good at hiding his anger until he snaps. He was talking like nothing had happened and we were just going to go back to normal." Your head whipped towards the open window blinds where someone was just walking by, Aaron noticing your jumpy behavior immediately.

"You're safe here. No one knows anything about what happened except you and I," he reassured you, making you relax just a little. "I don't think he'll be out of jail for long though, at least until he sees the judge for arraignment. I will personally see to that."

His words brought you a bit of placidity and hope as you still wondered why he would go through such lengths to help you out.

"I do have a small flat not far from here that I use occasionally for late nights at the office when I don't want to drive all the way home. You can stay there for now, until you find a place of your own if you'd like. Completely up to you, I don't want you to feel pressured."

Your eyes looked up from the floor to meet his, surprised by his offer.

"I- uh. I couldn't impose on you like that-

"You wouldn't be. I barely use it anymore, I prefer to be at my home with my son whenever I can."

Son? He has a son. Of course he does. He probably also has a wife or at least a girlfriend since you didn't see a ring on his finger. The thought of him with a son didn't bother you, in fact it only gave you more of a reason to trust him.

"If you're sure you don't mind," you said, trying not to sound too excited, relieved that you wouldn't have to go back to your boyfriends house. "Please let me pay some sort of rent or something though. It's the least I can do."

He shook his head no, his expression soft and nonchalant. "Don't worry about it. You're gonna need the money for your new place. Just promise me that you won't contact him or go back to that house unless you have some sort of escort, preferably by law enforcement."

You could be my escort.

You nodded in agreement, ignoring your thoughts.

“Alright then. I can send you the address and give you the keys now. I'm not sure if the fridge is stocked but feel free to add or throw anything away. There is a washer and dryer there so you can wash the sheets and anything else you need." He pulled his keys from his desk drawer and removed a ring with a single key on it, holding it out for you.

You took it gratefully and stood with him as he buttoned his suit back up and checked his watch.

"Could I at least make you dinner or something?" you blurted, not sure where such confidence came from. "I mean, I just want to do something for you in return for your incredible generosity." You couldn't stop the blush from burning your cheeks, your words successfully embarrassing yourself.

A small smile played at the corner of his mouth, showing off just the slightest sight of dimples. "I'll be with my son tonight but maybe we could grab a coffee sometime tomorrow."

You smiled back, more than satisfied with his offer and followed him out of his office, feeling a few stares from people but avoided eye contact. Aaron walked you back to the receptionist and even had her add you as a contact so visiting would be an easier feat.

"Thank you again Aaron," you spoke, the anxiety you had been feeling for the last few hours, finally beginning to dissipate. He answered with a friendly nod and you entered the elevators. Once the doors closed and you were completely alone, you took in a deep breath. Maybe everything was going to be ok like he said.

[phyrestartr]

Icarus, I Am Devoted | Sukuna x M!Reader

Main Fic W/C: 5.9k Bonus Drabbles W/C: 1.6k

[#Modern AU, ABO dynamics, bottom!reader, top!sukuna, Mob Boss!Sukuna, Alpha!Sukuna, Street Doctor!Reader, Omega!Reader, toxic relationships, age gap, sukuna is mid 30s, yuuji gang and reader are mid 20s, sukuna and yuuji are brothers, sukuna has FEELINGS, but he is BAD AT FEELINGS, nsfw, fluff, hurt/comfort, I KINDA EDITED BUT I JUST WANT THIS TO BE YEETED INTO THE OPEN OK BYE SORRY IF PARTS ARE CLUNKY]

@better-imagination-9 I summon thee

--

Sukuna didn't like Yuuji getting caught up in his business. 

He was too brash, thought himself too badass for the world to take down, thought gang life wasn't as bad as it was made out to be, just because his older brother was involved. Sukuna didn't know where the fuck he got that idea–the tattooed menace had killed people, stolen money, sold shit that ruined lives. It was fun for him, sure, but not so much for bystanders. 

“You're an idiot,” Sukuna growled as he dragged his brother into his office and threw him at the chaise lounge while they waited for their doctor on demand. 

“H-hey, come on, man! It's, uh, it's not even that bad–” Yuuji grimaced, though, holding at the wound gushing blood from his arm. “You've had worse!”

Sukuna laughed bitterly as his henchmen flooded the room and made necessary preparations for their aid's arrival. “You and I are fucking built different, Yuuji--you’re too damn soft for–”

“I'm not,” Yuuji snapped, honeyed eyes blazing. “I'm not.” 

Sukuna laughed again, then ripped his plush, leather chair across the room, sending it hurtling into the expensive ebony walls he encased his place of business in. He roared in overwhelming fury as it clattered to the floor. 

“How hard is it for you to listen? How come you can never just fucking–” 

“Yelling won't solve things,” your cool voice interrupted as you hurried into the room, medical bag in hand. “I thought you learned that by now.” 

Sukuna whirled on his heel. His hands were still fisted in his hair and his blood boiled, but now, there existed an explosive tension with you in the room. 

You, his pretty little omega. The one he chased away. The one he still craved. The one that drove him insane. 

“Uraume,” Sukuna growled, crimson eyes locking onto his most devoted. 

“My apologies,” they said with a pensive look and deep bow, “he was the only one willing to come.” 

“So mind your manners, or I'll let your brother bleed out,” you said airily, so haughty and bitchy and annoying. But Sukuna knew you wouldn't let Yuuji die. You wouldn't let him suffer with a wound like that–you were too fond of the little brat. 

Sukuna snarled in frustration and fixed his jacket with sharp tugs. “Just fix him.”

He stalked away, ignoring the way Yuuji yelled at him before preening at you as you tended to him. Sukuna knew his brother had a bit of a thing for you, his bitch, which caused more than a handful of problems with the two arguing and fighting for your affections. Naturally, you chose Sukuna. Of course you would.

The alpha's frustrations boiled, reducing the rage in his gut into simmering desire. He leaned his head back against the elevator mirror with a sigh as it shot up toward the penthouse--the one you, too, used to occupy. The one where you'd spread your legs for him, drowning in expensive, black silk sheets while he bred you like the good little thing you were. The one where you'd cook for him if (when) you woke up before him the morning after. The one where you first whispered I love you against his skin when you thought he was asleep.

The elevator doors dinged open, and he stormed out, eager to rid himself of the tightness pulling at his slacks. A cigar and a drink sounded good, too. 

–

Ding. 

He knew it was you. It had to be you. You were a good person, willing to let Uraume rest while you gave your ex the update he needed about his brother. After all, you didn't fear him, nor did you yearn to please him. You were more than capable of delivering shit news and getting off scotch free. 

“So?” Sukuna took a deep puff from his cigar and leaned further into the balcony railing as you approached. 

You hummed as you sidled up next to him, tucking some of your hair behind your ear as the breeze tugged at it. “He'll be fine. Yuuji's tough. He's a bit shaken up now that the adrenaline’s worn off, though.” 

“Maybe that'll teach that idiot not to get shot.” 

“Probably not.” 

“Probably not,” Sukuna sighed, tapping off a dash of ash from the butt of his cigar just before it was plucked from his hands. “Oi.” 

“These things'll kill you,” you scolded airily. “So will that.” You tried reaching for the crystalline glass of amber, too, when Sukuna scoffed and took a sip to spite you. 

“Don't,” he snarled. Any normal omega would have backed away. Any normal omega would have keened. Any normal omega would have tried to please him up with a sweet scent of submission. But you were a different breed entirely. 

“Don't growl at me–” you gaped as Sukuna downed the expensive liquor before whipping the glass at the skyline. “Sukuna.”

He stalked back into his penthouse with heavy steps as he ran his hands through his hair. He had to busy his fingers, his palms, just so he wasn't tempted to touch you, to grab you like he was used to. It'd been years since you were properly together–properly engaged in fact–but he still couldn't shake those infuriating fucking habits. You were a cancer in his mind, plaguing his body and thoughts. 

But he didn't want you to leave. Maybe he liked the chase. Maybe he just liked how his entire, explosive world narrowed down to just one infuriating thing that he wanted so badly. He didn't know. Maybe he didn't need to know. 

Sukuna poured himself another drink and collapsed onto his soft leather couch with a deep sigh. His arms draped along the back, one hand still holding the glass by the rim. He let his head fall back, and stared at the ceiling. 

Thankfully, you wandered in. And you wandered toward him, not to the door like you usually did when his temper flared and he acted out. Something small and pathetic in him uncoiled and settled down, purring in content when you took a seat beside him. 

“What's going on?” you asked quietly. Your fingertips singed sparks of pleasure against his skin where you touched: his cheekbones, his hairline, his furrowed brow.

He lolled his head to the side to look at you, his stupid pretty boy. “Nothing.” Not even Sukuna believed that.

You brushed his hair back, and the stupid alpha in him rose to the surface and moaned. “Yuuji’s not behaving?” Your warm palm cupped his cheek, and he leaned into it. 

“That little shit never behaves,” he mumbled through the vibrato of purrs rumbling from his chest. “Gonna make me die young.” 

“Hm. Is that why you haven't slept?” 

“I'm sleeping.”

“How much?”

“Enough.”

“Sukuna.”

“I said–” 

“You and I have different definitions of ‘enough,’” you chided lightly, like you were scolding one of your cats. “You look tired.” 

“Maybe it's because my mate scampered off in the middle of the night.” 

“Don't blame this on me.” 

“Why not?” Wine-red eyes glowered at you, deciding whether he should dominate or decimate you. “It's your fault.” 

You recoiled the slightest bit, your top lip twitching in that oh-so familiar way it did whenever you were close to snarling and snapping at him. You had such a temper for such a calm thing. Sukuna would be lying if he said he didn't try to rile you up on purpose. 

“Ho? What,” he started, grinning wickedly when you made a move to get up, but his arms snaked around you and held like wrought iron. “Feelin’ guilty?” 

“No,” you hissed, half-pissed by his drink spilling on you, half-pissed by his accusation. “Let go. I'm leaving.” 

“Leaving?” He crooned. “You always get so pissy when I don't wanna talk, ‘n now that I'm in the mood, you're tryna leave? Come on, sweetheart, that's not fair.” 

“I don't feel like fucking fighting tonight,” you snapped, and Sukuna stayed quiet for a change. “Yuuji got shot. You look like shit. And we--I haven't–” you took a deep breath. “Can't we just be civil for a night? Can't we just talk about–”

“About what?”

“About whatever.” 

“Fine.”

“Alright. Okay.” 

Somewhere behind the haze of alcohol, Sukuna's consciousness celebrated–this could be his shot at starting to fix things. This was his moment to rebuild that lost relationship and maybe clean up a space in his life for you to sit safely in. Your expectant expression agreed with him. You looked quite cute, what with your big eyes and the way you leaned into him. But instead–

“Was it a boy or a girl?” Sukuna asked before taking a sip of whatever remained in his glass. 

You blinked and shook your head, eyes narrowing the slightest as you looked over his face. “What?” You asked. 

Sukuna snorted and turned to face you, one arm gesturing with his scotch glass while the other arm stayed slung across the back of the couch. “I said,” he started, gesturing to your stomach and chuckling through his low, bassy words, “boy or girl? If it was a girl, then maybe the world did you a favour. You know how it is for women in this day and age.” 

You stared blankly like you were shellshocked, and Sukuna bubbled with near-manic, reedy laughter until you got up and walked to the door. 

“Oi, where the hell are you going, huh?” He got up and followed you, hastening his steps when he saw you b-line for the door. “Omega.” He grabbed your wrist and pulled you back, purring into your ear as he pressed his chest to your back. “Come on, we can make another one. You'd like that, huh?” 

“Get off,” you barked, ripping his arms away from you. But he grabbed you again and spun you back to face him. You shoved him back, your mind whirling in a chaotic waltz drenched with grey thoughts and crimson rain that almost drowned out the words he barked at you until–

Whack. 

He hit you. Backhanded, fingers adorned with thick, bulky rings and knuckles that'd seen too many fights. A natural disaster contained in the vessel of a mortal man–sometimes, he didn't know his own capabilities.

“Shit,” Sukuna mumbled, scrambling to set down his glass to, what, tend to you? Rewind time? Sure. “Babe–” 

But you, too, were a natural disaster. The tsunami that came after an earthquake, raising tides high and staring down at split earth with a taunt: you think you're bad? Watch this.

Thwack. 

You snatched up that bottle of fancy scotch and hit a home run, watching Sukuna collapse to the floor.

–

Sukuna woke up with a concussion, his wallet missing, and one of his favourite cars torched. 

It got him riled up. He was too ready to hunt you down and make you rectify your mistakes–that is, until he remembered why you did what you did. 

Boy or girl?

Maybe the world did you a favour.

Fuck. He flew way too close to the sun this time.

He watched you stack up expenses on his card instead of hunting you. Your little rage-filled crime spree was kind of funny anyway, and he couldn’t help but hope it made you feel at least a little better. 

Though he knew it could never. Nothing could make it better. 

–

“You should quit messing around with him,” Ieiri said as she tended to the half-dead gangster laying on her operating table. “He's bad news. A kid like you shouldn’t be getting involved.” 

The one little, wiggly lucid part of Sukuna wanted to strangle Ieiri; you were young, sure, but not stupid. Sukuna wouldn't go so far as to say you were mature for your age, no, but you'd been beaten down by life and forced into the role of an adult for long enough that it'd changed your way of thinking, of perceiving the world. You could make your own choices–just as long as it involved him. 

“You're not the first person to tell me that,” you said softly, words rising with a small, warm chuckle. “Good guys try way too hard to put on a show, to hide how garbage they can be.” You squeezed Sukuna's hand and ran your thumb over his split knuckles. “Guys like him show you who they really are right away. Then, you get to figure out what his good side is like.” 

–

You were there again. In the elevator, looking a little pensive beyond your cool exterior. 

Sukuna took a drag from his cigarette as he stepped in beside you. The button for his penthouse leered at him and whispered, “you have time.” 

All he had to do was think of what to say. The right course of action was obvious, but–well, was it really his fault? He couldn't accept that 100%. You clocked him upside the head with a fucking glass bottle and stole his– 

“Those things'll kill you.” Your fingers snatched the smoke from his lips before he realized it. He caught you butting it out on the fancy gold railings. 

“I like things that can kill me,” he hummed, lighting another cigarette and chuckling when you snatched that one too. “What, scared of a little competition?” 

“Yes.” 

Oh. Sukuna liked that.

“I, uh,” you started, fumbling with your pockets before handing something over. “Found this.” 

Sukuna glanced your way finally. He couldn't help but laugh as he plucked the wallet from your hands. 

“Found it, huh?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Such a benevolent, pious thing. I would've kept it.” 

“Yeah, well. You're a dick. ‘Course you would.” 

“Where'd you find it?” 

“My pocket.” 

“No shit.” 

“Yeah. Weird.” 

The elevator doors dinged open, revealing the empty hall leading to the penthouse. He glanced down at the door before looking back down at you. 

“Have a drink with me.”

Your expression soured. 

Sukuna threw his arm against the doors to keep them open. “Coffee?” 

Your brows lifted, the creases smoothing from your face. “Coffee.” 

Sukuna's alpha bloomed with pleased content. He sidled up next to you and rested his broad hand on the small of your back, leading you down the hall. 

“With a bit of Baileys.”

“No Baileys.”

–

He let you try to sooth his stress while you waited for your favourite, poor-person coffee to brew. 

You straddled his thick thighs as you kissed at his neck. Your hands roamed and threaded through his gelled hair, your blunt nails dragged along his scalp, coaxing rumbling purrs out of your alpha.

“Shit,” he moaned, leaning back into your hands, digging his head into your digits and grumbling like an old dog. You hummed in sympathy, and gave him harsher scritches, making his knee bounce in double time like a dog getting the spot scratched.

You weren’t done, though. You licked at his neck’s scent gland and coaxed more of his natural musk to the surface to mix with yours–a classic way to get one’s partner to calm down. You were methodical as fuck about it, too, knowing how Sukuna’s stress abruptly blocked any good scents in favour of excreting foul, angry odors into the air when he was pissed. Or, sometimes, he’d shut down completely, the only scent coming from what clung to his skin and clothes. 

And so, he needed a little more TLC to get things flowing again, to make his body disarm and let the good vibes flow. 

You nipped the swollen spot lightly, eliciting a strangled growl from the man. “Too rough?” Your tongue pressed at the spot again, and pulled more of that deep purring out of him. “Maybe not.” 

“By all means, rough me up.” That was as close to a warning as you would get from a greedy bastard like Sukuna. He wanted you to bite harder, to break skin and set the wild tornado of a mating rut into motion. You were careful to avoid him when your unholy heats crashed down on you, but being in the presence of your estranged man when he was set off–well, it’d jumpstart your sex-crazed frenzy, too. 

“Raincheck,” you murmured. 

He huffed and rubbed circles in your hips before grabbing your ass and squeezing. “When's the last time–” 

The coffee maker sang a tune and you got off, saved from your warm, fuzzy marking daze. “Does it matter?”

Sukuna got up and stalked after you, rubbing the ache out of his shoulder. “Like it or not, we're stuck with our binding vow.” His chest pressed to your back, his arms slipping around your waist as he leaned down to nuzzle into your skin. “Mated for life.” He couldn't help the smile that branded into your neck. 

You cleared your throat and snatched up two mugs. “There're surgeries–”

“No.” 

“How do you take your coffee again?” Hah. You didn't even try to argue it.

Sukuna's ego boomed. His scent grew more dominating and demanding in tow. “You know how I like it. You know the way I like everything.”

You scoffed and slapped his hand away, the sweet, teasing omega that happily marked him up and scented him to high heaven gone, now replaced with your annoying, bratty self. Ugh. He loved it as much as he hated it.

“You used to be cuter,” Sukuna commented, quiet and breathy, so out of character. His hands retreated back to hold your waist instead of keeping you trapped against him. “What happened to–”

“You know what happened.” You sounded tired, too. Angry. But not at the Sukuna standing with you right then and there. 

Sukuna's old friend, unyielding frustration, bore down on him. He sucked his teeth and beat down the urge to snap, to yell and scream, claim it wasn't his fucking fault and that you never filled him in, so how could–

His forehead pressed against your shoulder. “I don't,” he sighed. “I don't fucking know, (Name). We lost our kid, I know that much, so what the fuck else is there?” 

For a moment, he thought he'd lost you again. He expected you to whirl around, throw a cup at his head and curse him to hell to start off another fight; instead, you slipped out of his hands gently, and replaced your warmth with a cup of coffee. 

“Come sit.” 

Sukuna complied. 

You tucked your legs up under you when you sat down. Your own mug was held snugly with both hands, yet your fingers fidgeted, twirling around whatever rings you had on while you thought of what to say. 

“So,” you started. “How much do you know?”

Sukuna leaned back and thought. “Uraume called. Said something was wrong.” He could remember their voice ringing in his ear, that usual, frigid demeanor exploding into something panicked and tortured as they tried to comfort you, order idiots around, and explain the situation. “They didn’t know what, but said you were bein’ taken to Ieiri. I met ‘em there, Gojo wouldn’t let me come in.” He sighed, the memories pricking his nerves. “Told me you miscarried, and–well, that’s more or less it.” 

You nodded a little, digesting the scraps of knowledge that’d been given to Sukuna. “I was alone,” you breathed. “I was–I’d been cramping. A lot. I thought–I didn't know–I just–I thought it was normal.” You cleared your throat, fidgeting more and only stilling when Sukuna's palm rested on your leg. You covered his hand with one of yours. “There was a lot of blood. I thought I was dying. Uraume and Yuuji took me to Ieiri.” 

Sukuna remembered that, too. He remembered catching sight of you just before his brother carried you away from him. It was hard to forget the sound of your wailing amidst all that red–that damned noise came from hell itself, from the burning, fetid pits of agony and despair and up through your beautiful voice. For something so foul to touch you was nothing but blasphemous.

Sukuna tried to follow you in, but that moron Gojo wouldn’t let him in, spouting some bullshit about how he’d make things worse. Needless to say, Sukuna snapped, and Ieiri suddenly had more than a mourning omega to deal with.

“I pinned it on you to cope. I didn’t know what else to do.” You spared a shy glance at him before staring down again. “...Uraume filled me in, though. You were dealing with so much shit. All that crap with the Zenins. And you didn’t even–you didn’t even know I was knocked up until I wasn’t.” You sighed and sipped your drink before setting it aside. “Guess it was easier to blame you for everything than it was to just accept I got unlucky.” 

“‘Unlucky’?” Sukuna repeated lowly, void of mirth for once.

You nodded. “Chromosome bullshit, garbage genetics, a shitty cervix. Coulda been anything.” Sukuna watched your expression shift from desolate to bitter. “And if you fuck up once and lose your pup, odds are it’ll happen again.”

“Says who?”

“Science. Doctors.”

“You really gonna take their word like that?” Your eyes met his, doey and expectant. “I'll gut ‘em myself if they say that shit next time you're knocked up.”

You looked a bit bashful then, looking away from him with pursed lips and glossy eyes. For a second, Sukuna thought you were about to snap and argue with him about how you vowed to never get pregnant again (which he'd indulge in), or maybe even bolt for the door (which he wouldn't allow), but instead, you grabbed the remote. 

“Tch. Don't say such stupid shit. It's annoying.” 

Sukuna could only grin to himself as you settled in beside him, tucking up against his side. Neither of you could swallow your pride enough to properly apologize for anything ever, but that wasn't necessarily needed–understanding was what was needed. Things had just become a little bit clearer. 

–

For once, the alpha found himself at ease. Sure, you had your petty and some less-than-petty spats, but there was a coil of contentment that stayed at the forefront of Sukuna's mind through it all. Now, he no longer fumed nor bristled, no longer wondered if you really belonged to him, no longer thought about how to trap you if he wanted to keep you around. 

Because you made more of an effort to see him, to call when you couldn't, to set his vicious wolf's heart at ease so he could rest soundly. He rested the most when you were so gracious as to curl up in those black, silken sheets with him, too.

Don't get too excited. It's just because we're mated; we'd go insane otherwise, Is how you rationalized it. And, honestly, it was cute to see you act so flippant and uncaring when Sukuna knew you were so the opposite. 

Little liar. Loves playing pretend. He gently tucked stray hairs behind your ear as you snoozed soundly beside him. It was unlike you to sleep in so late (“late” meaning past 6am), and it was unlike Sukuna to wake up before you, so it must have been kismet. 

Because this moment was the first in a long time where he got to touch you. Beyond the playful ass slaps and grabs at your hips, you never really let him feel you. Or did he just never try to touch you like this? Gently, just for the sake of feeling your skin and your warmth? 

Sukuna was a brutal man. He didn't often have a chance to be careful. If he'd had that kid, then he might've learned how; he could've learned not to throw glasses at skylines, not to lash out at his omega, not to expect you to still love you when he broke you. 

He brushed his thumb along your cheek and down to your jaw, admiring the soft skin and strong angle that led him to the curve of your chin, and your perfect lips. God, he wanted to kiss you. It'd been an eternity since he had a taste of you. Maybe if he was gentle–

I can do gentle. Sukuna shifted the slightest bit towards you until his nose lightly brushed against yours, until he felt your light breaths fan against his skin. Ah, why was his heart beating so fast now?

He did his best to ignore the way his pulse thundered in his ears when he brushed his lips against yours once more, before he kissed you softly. Gently. Perfectly. And he took his time parting. He had to savour the taste of your lips against his because who knew when he'd get to kiss you again? 

I love you, he heard echo in his memories when your lips parted. But he never heard himself reply. 

“Love you too, brat,” he murmured. “Don't you dare think otherwise.” 

Your eyes opened a moment later. “You mean that?” came your reply, just as light and whispered. Sukuna felt waves of heat come off your skin–were you blushing?

Crimson eyes flickered from your bashful look to the slight parting of your lips and back again. “Always.” Even though he never said it. But he let you get away with everything to show that love–credit card theft, cracking him upside the head with a bottle, abandoning him for months on end.

A soft ‘hm’ hummed through you. Your sleepy gaze melted from Sukuna’s, and down to his lips, too, while your own pursed, pensive. Thoughtful. Christ, you were really something else–just a single look from you had his mind reeling, his chest easing into a warmth so reminiscent of a campfire, the sort you both used to sit around when you’d bullied Sukuna into buying one for his too-big balcony. 

Back then, you were just “friends,” though the flirting and meaningful touches said otherwise. You were still a street doctor, introduced to him by Yuuji of all people, but you had more pep in your step, especially when you worked to try and swoon the hardened, deranged alpha you’d decided belonged to you. You’re mine, you said simply after shooting whatever whore the big, bad boss had hired for the night. The look in your eyes, cold and determined, got Sukuna achingly hard in an instant. He never wanted you to look at anyone else like that–your rage, your obsession, it could only ever be for him.

“‘M I still yours?” You still want me? You still love me? Am I still just for you?

You looked a little sentimental. A little sad, too, maybe. But maybe it was just the culmination of your fears and worries, your wants and desires finally breaking through your solemn being. 

“I'm a minimalist at heart. I've only got room for so much.”

“Don't tell me you're back on that Kondo Marie kick–” 

“But you're something I can't do without.” Yeah, I love you. I want you. I don't want much, but I want you. You're mine. “You bring me joy, or whatever the saying is. But I wanna beat the shit outta you sometimes for being a dumbass.” 

Sukuna laughed and nudged your nose with his–a small, primal gesture of fondness. “Yeah, yeah, I'm aware. Tch. You're gonna have to be careful--you're gonna send my old ass to an early grave if you keep up with all this fiery youth shit.”

“Then I can inherit your fortune,” you offered airily before kissing him teasingly. Sukuna growled when your small fangs dug into his bottom lip playfully. “That'd be nice.” 

“Hah. Everything's going to family–Yuuji, the old fart.” Sukuna pulled you in closer and purred as you complied. “You'd have to–”

“I'll marry you if that's what it takes,” you cooed, and Sukuna froze. You paused for a moment, too, before lifting yourself up to look down at his dumb face. “Oi.” You pat his cheek lightly but he scowled at you, half-cranky, half-defeated. “Eeeh? You mad?”

“Tch.”

“Awe, big alpha's mad.”

“Don't.” A command. A warning. One that had your subgender reeling and whimpering behind you, but your human side smiling, ready to mock. 

You slid on top of him, straddling his waist and splaying your hands out on his broad, solid chest. Sukuna still kept his gaze elsewhere. Honestly, you couldn't blame him--you were in a mood. 

“Oi,” you prodded, poking at his ridiculous pecs and tracing over the dark lines of his irezumi. “Hey. Don't pout.” But he grabbed your hands when your stupid fingers threatened to assault his nipples, and he continued to pout. “Come on, I said I'd marry you.” 

“Tch.” You've said that before. 

“I mean it.” 

“Tch.” You’ve said that before, too.

You leaned down, and nuzzled the hollow of his cheek while he grumbled and grumped. “You don't like the idea of breeding me anymore? You don't want me to yourself, all caught up in your bedsheets with you between my legs? Hm? You don't wanna fuck me through my heat, knock me up a few more times, make me bare your children for the world to see how I belong to Ryoumen Sukuna? You don't want me to be drenched in your scent–” 

You squeaked when your man flipped you around, pinning you before ripping off the sleep shorts keeping your skin from him. His rough fingers dove deep into your slicked up hole (apparently your long list of hypotheticals had worked you up into a soft, wet, pliant thing) and hurried to stretch you wide. 

“Such an annoying little shit,” Sukuna grumbled. And you laughed, lightly and so achingly genuinely through your fluttery mewls and moans. “If you try ‘n back out this time, I'll break your fucking legs and tie you down to the bed, you got that? I'm not gonna be so fucking nice this time.”

“Eh? You were being nice last–” you whined when his wet fingers jammed into your mouth. But you obediently sucked and bit at them, holding onto his muscled arm for leverage while he kicked off his bottoms and pressed his sweltering tip to your soft entrance. 

“You got no idea, princess.” Sukuna pushed in, groaning with ancient, cursed need as your insides welcomed him and obeyed, letting his uncomfortable size push you open. Seemed your body still remembered him. Wanted him as much as your stupid pretty mouth claimed. 

You were gasping, your molars chewing into his fingers as your missing piece slid back into place, filling you up until it hurt to breathe. Strong thighs clamped down against Sukuna’s sides as he dragged you down, forcing the last bits of his cock into your very depths, squeezing a reedy whine out of you, before he pulled out and slammed right back in again and again and again.

Your cry nearly sent him over the edge. It was a loud, bassy thing, something like a cello toppling or having its string plucked too hard by a callous touch–a sound Sukuna reveled in. You were the only partner he'd had that was like this, so demanding and bitchy, absolutely horrible and as poisonous as alphas were, and he loved it. He lived and died by your gospel, by the very life that thrummed underneath his touch.

And you promised to be all his. Sukuna could have everything, anything and anyone, and that apparently included trapping and claiming a god. One that only he prayed to. One that'd only smile upon him. One that only delivered to him divine blessings. 

What a divine gift.

He folded you in half with ease and blanketed your trembling body with his own. The fingers fucking into your mouth slipped out and down to your throat where they squeezed lightly; then, they traveled to the back of your neck, found your cute little nape, and squeezed. 

Your eyes rolled back as your body arched up into him. Words left you in some ancient tongue neither you nor Sukuna could decipher. But it was a language of love and pleasure, the sort that brought delicious submission coiling through your blood in offering to the lowly creature devouring your holiness. 

“Sukuna,” you choked out. Your fingers dug into his shoulder and fisted in his hair, pulling him closer to the old, scarred mark left there by him a decade ago. “‘Kuna, I need–” 

The boss laughed low, but with fluttery, manic high tones warped throughout. “Need me to bite you? Mark you mine again?” He taunted. His nails dug into your soft side as he fucked into you harder, lifting your waist up to meet his brutal angle as his base started to swell. “I wanna hear you say it–say you need it, you want it. Say you need me to fill your guts every fucking night. Say I'm the only one who can get you there. I'm the only one–” his other hand grabbed your nape harder, forcing your submission further, forcing your neck to the side to present it to him. 

Then, with a snarl, he added, “say ‘I do.’” 

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as you murmured those very words into his ear. 

I do. 

Sukuna's heart howled with the beast living inside him. Blood flooded his mouth when he tore into your shoulder, digging deeper than needed to brand you his again just before his pulsing knot squeezed into you and locked into place, stilling his wild rampage and holding you hostage beneath his hulking body. 

You shifted and writhed against him, so obviously overwhelmed by such an archaic, crazed union–your omega must have been going wild, willing you to fight against the monster pouring his seed into you, locking you in place, taking away your autonomy. But a short, rough warning growl settled your inner self the slightest bit and straightened out your thoughts enough for your human pettiness to urge you, too, to sink teeth into flesh and mark up your alpha to complete the re-bonding. 

Good boy. Sukuna's hips rutted against you in light pulses, attempting to jam his knot further into you to ensure you'd take everything he so graciously offered you. But every little move your bodies made together tore more hot strings of cum out of him and into your core. Apparently an eternity of not having you was culminating into this one moment. 

You were the one to let go first. You collapsed onto your back with a loud sigh, and the crushing constriction of your thighs laxed just slightly. 

“Fuck,” you gasped, wholly content and pleased. Your hand wiggled between your bodies and rested on the still-inflating curve that your partner had oh-so loving built out of cum and obsessive dedication. “That's gonna make a mess.” 

Good. Sukuna's chainsaw purr reverberated against your bloodied skin. He chewed into you further and relished in the taste and smell of you, the way it mingled with his own scent of existence and made him feel so irrevocably whole. 

Your fingers laced through his hair as you laughed. “Oi, let go already. Your knot's not gonna go down for like thirty minutes. I'm not going anywhere.” 

Your mate obliged, dislodging his chunky fangs from you and lapping at the wound dutifully until the bleeding staunched. Next, he got to work leaving an array of dark hickies and light bites all over your neck and shoulder, just in case the gnarly bite mark wasn't enough to ward off idiots who thought they had a chance with you. He grumbled at the mere idea of it. 

“So?” You cooed, running your hands up and down his muscled shoulders. “What do we do for half an hour?”

Sukuna scoffed. He tried to pull out just a bit, just to see if he was seriously locked in there, and you spat a vile hiss his way, your nails digging into him at the same time. And, fuck, you were tight–

“Fuck.” He didn't think this through.

-- DRABBLES --

“You're dumb as fuck, you know that?” 

“Ah, such romantic words to hear from my wife.”

“Husband, jackass.” 

Sukuna managed to open his eyes through the pounding of his head. God, he felt like shit. But that probably came with the territory of getting shot point-blank before bailing out of a moving car on the highway. Honestly, he was lucky only one car hit him when he hit the pavement. 

Still, it was bad enough to warrant him a ticket to the hospital. Uraume worked behind the scenes, ensuring their boss got a private room and that the police would stay the fuck away if they knew what was good for them, and it all somehow worked out. Uraume was definitely a sorcerer of sorts.

“Can you save it for home? Fucking hell,” Sukuna groaned, letting his eyes fall shut again. “Too tired to argue.” 

“That's a first,” You huffed, and marched up to his side, sitting down in the cozy seat waiting for you. Your careful touch prodded at his hand gently, as if assessing the damage, guestimating if you could hold his hand without hurting him, but he made the choice for you. He caught your hand weakly, and you held him safe with both of yours. 

“Missed you,” he grumbled, squeezing back lamely. “Have fun on the trip at least?”

“Yeah, until I heard what happened.” You sighed, watery and warbled. “I shouldn't have left. You're too stupid to survive alone.”

Sukuna laughed, then coughed. He felt you tense. “F-Fuck you, little shit. I'm fine.”

“You got shot.”

“Been shot before.”

“Jumped out of a car.”

“I've jumped outta faster.”

“Then got hit by another car.”

“That was a first.”

You sighed to fight back either a sob or ill-placed laughter, or maybe both. “This is so fucking ridiculous. Never make me take a vacation again. I can't be off fucking around in Hawaii when my baby daddy's getting hit like it's GTA.” 

“Christ, I already–” he paused, though, and cracked an eye open to look at you. “What did you…” 

He lost his words when he saw you. Your skin glowed in a way he hadn't had the luxury to see before. Your face looked rounder, too, like you'd put on a little bit of weight since you'd been gone. But your scent–your usual sweet, full-bodied scent of flowery coffee was cranked up to a trillion. If Sukuna's nose wasn't busted, he would've noticed the way it filled up the room, and he might've noticed how his own scent rose to meet it in greeting. Something strange was happening. 

“Oh. Right. Uh…” you cleared your throat and hastily tucked some hair behind your ear. You looked a little bit lost for words too, in all honesty. “I’m pregn–”

Sukuna sat up. You barked at him to lay down, your voice rising a few octaves when something that was probably important dislodged from his wrist as he reached forward when you stood. And you froze when his palm pressed against your stomach–a natural, maternal thing to do. Sukuna remembered when he caught your cat for you when she was trying to dart out the door whilst pregnant, and how she froze dead in her tracks when his hand caught her by her kitten-filled stomach, and let him carry her back inside. 

But this was different. This wasn’t his partner’s cat’s kittens he was feeling, it was yours. His. A shared little nugget doing its best to grow big for its expectant mama–and now expectant papa. 

“How long?” Sukuna rasped. When did his throat get so dry? 

“Two months. Ish.” You rested your hands over his again despite the awkward angle he caught you at. “I didn’t know until last week. I tried to call, but–” You got obliterated and couldn’t answer your phone.

“I get it. Don’t gotta explain.” Sukuna gazed at your stomach a moment longer with droopy, half-lidded eyes before looking up at you as nurses burst into the room. “You’re moving in.”

And for once, you didn’t argue. 

–

“Dude, you guys can't fuck when he's pregnant! You'll crush the baby like a tin can!” 

You snorted and tried to cover your mouth as your tea shot out your nose. You coughed and wheezed, turning away and waving at the brothers in a desperate plea for them to not look and continue their petty argument.

Sukuna, caught between the urge to mock you and kick the shit out of his annoying little fucknut brother, sighed and rubbed his face before handing you his fancy handkerchief he kept tucked in the breast of his jacket for nothing but looks. These days, though, the damn thing had been paying its dues. 

“You think I'm gonna listen to a fuckin’ virgin about this kinda shit?” Sukuna quipped back as he watched you clean up before trying to take a sip of your drink again. 

“Hey, man, I'm just saying. Your dick is like a third leg.” 

You slammed your hand down on the table after spitting a mouthful of tea back into your cup. “Yuuji. Please. Why do you even know that?” 

Yuuji pouted and scooted closer to you under the kotatsu. “Wh--we're brothers! It's not even that weird!” 

“It's weird as shit,” Sukuna offered as he reached out to rub your back. 

“So not weird.” His honeyed eyes locked onto the small affection the older showed you. “Man, so not fair you guys are ganging up on me now that you're, like, a thing,” Yuuji whined and let his arms and chest flop across the table like a petulant child. 

Sukuna smirked. “Jealous?”

You grumbled. “Sukuna. Don't start.”

Yuuji's ears turned bright red. “Jea–what?! No! I like girls like Jennifer Lawrence, not--I don't–”

“N'awe, little pup's tryna cope with losing.” Sukuna grinned wildly when Yuuji's head snapped up, pinning a deadly stare onto the older alpha. “Oh? Finally grow a pair?” 

“Sukuna,” you warned again.

“You better shut it, dude,” Yuuji threatened next, and you knew it was a lost cause; two alpha brothers, both incredibly competitive, both pining for the same omega, spelled disaster. 

Your partner laughed that familiar, ugly laugh–the sort that was too genuine and sounded borderline insane. “Or what? You gonna make me cry–” 

Yuuji launched over the table in an instant, tackling his brother to the ground with a bratty snarl. You watched on, unimpressed, waiting for any signs of their wrestling turning into a serious fight, but it never came. So, you enjoyed it a bit. It wasn't everyday the two idiots played nice. 

You rested your hands on your curved stomach while the two growled and snarled half-heartedly in their dumb attempt to subdue the other. Sukuna could've won in an instant, you both knew that, but he'd let Yuuji think he had a fighting chance for a little bit. It was part of the fun for him, letting his little brother gnaw on him like it'd do anything, letting him try to use his horrible jiu-jitsu skills on his older, bigger brother. It reminded you of–

“Oh,” you peeped when a rowdy kick jostled your hand. It didn't come from the boys, no, it came from the tiny tot inside you. 

The boys froze and stared at you.

“Huh? What's ‘oh'?” Yuuji asked through his panting and straining. Sukuna had him in a headlock, one of his hands giving a brutal noogie to the younger's head. 

“No, just–I think she kicked. Maybe not, I don't–” but your expression brightened with delight when another little throw hit your hand. 

“No shit?” Sukuna grinned, waves of excited alpha scent rolling off of him. He face-shoved Yuuji away before sidling up next to you and pressing his palm against your stomach. You guided his touch to rest over the kicky hotspot, and sure enough–

Thump. Thump.

“Two kicks for your old man, hey?” Sukuna hummed, looking so damn triumphant. 

“Hey, hey, I wanna feel!” Yuuji scrambled over like a nightmare and wiggled up on your other side, pointedly ignoring the snarl Sukuna sent his way. “Come on, it's my niece, chill out.”

Sukuna growled again, but you pulled his hand off to let Yuuji feel the little life making herself known. His eyes, too, lit up when those tiny thwacks battered his palm. 

You looked up at Sukuna dreamily, making the other's ticked expression smooth down into just mildly-annoyed; if your omega wasn't threatened, then he wasn't going to threaten. Sukuna didn't think Yuuji would hurt you, absolutely not, but anyone who came near you, or so much as accidentally bumped into you, pissed Sukuna off, sending his over-protective instincts into overdrive. He always had to rely on you to know when not to react.

“That's so cool!” Yuuji squeaked. “She's seriously in there!” 

“Where the fuck else would she be,” Sukuna grumped.

“Don't ruin his fun, Sukuna.” 

“Yeah, don’t ruin my fun!” 

“Yuuji’s banned from the house.”

“WH–HEY!!”

“Sukuna.”

“Heh.”

“What about gramps, then?” 

Sukuna paused. His heart stopped for a long, long moment. 

“What about him?” He answered, nonchalantly as possible. “Old fuck cut me off years ago.”

“He still cares,” Yuuji offered with a shrug. “And I told him about the pup ‘n everything.”

Sukuna frowned. “Yuuji–”

“You seriously think he doesn't give a shit? Dude, be real, the guy raised us.” 

“That's generous.” 

“Didn't you say you were leaving everything to Yuuji and ‘the old fart’ originally?” You cooed, unhelpful as ever. 

Carmine eyes found yours. “...If he actually wants to meet her–” 

“Awesome, I’ll let him know!” 

“Oi, runt–”

But Yuuji jumped up and pulled his phone out, leaving Sukuna to wonder what he’d just gotten himself into while you laughed at his misery. 

[captainpriceslilwife]

pt. 3 of gaz x insecure!reader :)))))

[part 1, part 2, part 3]

He’s late.

He went through all that trouble of convincing you of how genuine he was about taking you on a date, just to be late. 

He just wanted to do something nice for you. Something to actually make you smile in his presence instead of tense up or cry, but the universe seems to work against him when it comes to making you happy. Which is how he ended up here – desperately trying to buy flowers from the old Scottish woman on the street corner that he’s certain has been around since the Cambrian age. He really needs to stop taking Johnny’s advice. 

“How much for the sunflowers, ma’am?” He’s been trying to be as polite as he can, but the poor woman doesn’t seem to notice how his hand is tapping nervously at his thigh or how he checks his watch every two seconds. She just hobbles around with a smile, pointing at all of the other flowers on her stand and telling him some long-winded story of her youth about each of them.

“Eh?” Oh, and she was deaf in one ear. Something that wouldn’t be a problem if he didn’t have to keep repeating himself every single time he asked a question. “Wha’ did ye say, luvie?”  “The sunflowers.” He enunciates impatiently as he leans towards her right ear, only for her to blink in confusion at him. “How much?”  A wide smile breaks out on her face as she gestures to the bucket of sunflower bouquets, and Kyle softens a bit now that he thinks he can finally finish this up. Maybe he might even make it on time if he really books it…

 “Ah, ye can take as many as ye’d like!” 

Christ.

“No, no-“ A tense sigh escapes his lips as he takes out his wallet, trying to get it in her frame of vision before he loses her attention again. “Money. How much money?” But she’s not even looking at him anymore. Her white, fluffy brows are furrowed like she’s deep in thought, and she’s got her eye on one of the giant displays of pink and red flowers next to him. “Say, didn’ ye say this is fer yer girl? Ah still think she’d like some roses instead…more romantic, ya ken? Ah’ve got plenty different ones for ye, just gimme a wee second. Ye really should take a look-”  “No, ma’am, please…I-I don’t have a second.” He’s starting to wonder if he should just give up, but the thought of showing up late and empty-handed makes him feel so guilty that it makes his stomach lurch. “Please, I just want to pay for the…” But it’s too late. She’s already toddled off behind the cart, hunched over and spouting some story about how her late husband bought her roses every Sunday. “…the sunflowers.” 

He can only imagine what you must be thinking right now. 

And then there’s you. 

You, who had gotten up embarrassingly early that morning to get ready for your date. You had cursed yourself for agreeing to meet him so early as you rushed around your room, trying to pick out an outfit and do your hair in a way that made you feel like you looked alright without drawing too much attention to yourself. You had changed five times – constantly questioning if you looked like you put too much effort in – so you put even more effort into dulling yourself down. 

You even had to give yourself a pep talk in the mirror before you could gather the courage to leave the house. 

You’re okay. This is okay. This is what normal people do. They go on dates. If he sucks, you can just leave! That’s allowed…yeah…yeah, I can just leave. And I look good…I look…great. It’s his loss! Well, he hasn’t lost anything yet, but-

And now here you were – poor thing. All alone at one of the tables in the corner with a cup of coffee in front of you.

You were already a ball of nervous energy when you had walked in – messing with your hair and fixing your outfit every couple of seconds as you hovered around the entrance, looking around and waiting for him. You lit up when you're phone dinged with a notification, but your smile fell as quickly as it came when you read the words. 'I'm running a bit late, but I'll be there soon, I swear'

Oh.

It really is a prank. He’s not coming.

You could feel your hands trembling as you looked down at your phone, feeling utterly betrayed as those tiny black words stared back at you. 

What’s even worse is the fact that you realize that you feel betrayed by yourself, not him. You should have known better; you should have known that this would happen. Your brain preens at the realization that it was right – you weren’t someone worth his time - but your heart begins to develop that familiar ache it's gotten so accustomed to.

‘I’m so sorry, love. I’m nearly there, I promise.’

You can feel your eyes begin to brim with tears, but you can hear a tiny little voice in the back of your head telling you to wait for him - just to see. Maybe he really is running late. Maybe something came up. Maybe he's just as nervous as you are and he took to long to get ready.

Maybe, maybe, maybe...

Maybe you're just the idiot that can't seem to learn her lesson.

You take in a sharp inhale, steeling yourself as much as you can as you slip your phone into your purse, ignoring the incessant buzzing coming from within as you make your way inside the coffee shop.

You had spent so long getting ready - you weren't about to go home and waste all of your hard work just because of some idiot guy. No...you'd get yourself the coffee that you had been excited for.

Because you're all you have.

All you'll ever have, apparently.

You try to seem casual as you place your order, but even the barista can hear the waver in your voice and the way you look around the coffee shop, like you're waiting for some hidden group of friends to come out and laugh at you - the punchline to some sick joke.

But nothing comes, except for your coffee, which you take and shuffle over to some secluded corner where you can wallow on your own. Luckily for you, nobody seems to pay you any mind, even when the tears you had been holding back finally begin to slip down your cheeks and you have to take a sip your coffee to stop the sob that threatens to escape from your lips.

You're so lost in your own thoughts that you don't notice his form sprinting past the window beside you, but your head snaps up when the bell above the door jangles abruptly and the door slams against the wall.

Your heart practically leaps from your chest when you see how disheveled he looks - chest heaving as he wipes the sweat from his forehead, and he has...flowers. Sunflowers, to be specific. Your favorite.

He brought you flowers?

He stands in the doorway - ignoring the disapproving look that the barista sends his way as his head swivels around to look for you.

You begin to wipe at your tears hastily, partially hiding yourself from view as you curse quietly to yourself for ruining the makeup you had worked so hard on that morning.

Once his eyes land on you, you can see his eyes flash with relief before he begins to make his way over to you - murmuring politely 'excuse me' 'sorry, love' 'right behind you, darling' as he pushes through the tables that lie between the two of you.

“You’re still here! Oh thank god…here.” He pants breathlessly, holding out the sunflowers, which you take hesitantly – and he tries not to fall to his knees to beg for forgiveness when he sees the red rim beneath your eyes, or when he hears you sniffle quietly. "Oh, god, love…I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, I-"

You wave your hand pathetically, trying to brush off the fact that you had been crying - but for some reason you can't stop your lip from wobbling once more, though this time it was because of something you've never felt before. Something you couldn't name. But it felt like some old version of you was finally getting what she deserved.

Someone who actually liked her.

And poor Kyle - he can see how you're eyes are growing glossy again, and he thinks he's ruined absolutely everything.

"Ah, shit…” He motions to the bouquet pathetically, silently trying to communicate why it took him so long to get there, but he feels more and more like an idiot the longer he looks at it. 

It’s not enough. 

Maybe if he was late because of a thousand bouquets, he’d feel less guilty, but right now? Seeing you with tears streaming down your pretty face? 

He wishes someone had run him over when he ran through oncoming traffic to get to you.

“Flowers. I was just trying to bring you flowers, a-and the woman – she was so old.” He blubbers, clearly still out of breath as he rests his hands against his hips, but he still scrambles over himself to try to explain the situation – honestly, he feels like he might faint with how flustered he is. “I wanted to do something nice for you, you know? Just to, you know...make up for everything. A-And I asked my idiot friend for advice, and I swear he must have it out for me – recommending a family friend…a bloody Mrs. Gillies-“

And the whole time he’s stumbling over his words, he’s just waiting for the moment where you stand up and throw those flowers right back in his face. Maybe your coffee for good measure. He feels like his heart is about to beat out of his chest, but his rambling immediately comes to a halt when he sees your wobbling lips stretch into a smile. 

You’re smiling. 

You’re smiling. 

Why on earth are you smiling?

He’s frozen in shock as he blinks down at you, and he swears his heart comes to a stop when you choke out a little laugh. 

Oh, god, he’s done it now. You’ve lost it. He’s gone and made you absolutely lose your mind. 

Your teary eyes meet his, and you give him a pitiful, watery smile that knocks the wind right out of him like a swift punch to the gut. It’s not until you open your mouth that his hands stop shaking, and he finally understands what mercy feels like.

“Mrs. Gillies?” You giggle out through your tears, bringing your hand up to wipe at your damp cheeks. You don’t seem like you’re mad at him. You should be, honestly – even he’s mad at himself. “Oh...well, no wonder you were late. She’s, uh…certainly a talker. I used to work with her when I was a teenager…surprised she’s still alive, honestly.”

He’s never felt himself relax so quickly in his life. 

His shoulders drop as he lets out a breathless chuckle, thanking whatever god was listening that he hasn’t entirely screwed this up. He rubs the back of his neck nervously before he sits down across from you, flashing you a smile that shows how guilty he’s still feeling.

“God, I feel like such a prick. She just kept going on and on and I was losing my head thinking of you waiting on me, so I just…I just left her fifty quid and took the flowers while her back was turned.” 

The laugh you let out is music to his ears, and he swears he must look like a love-struck puppy as he watches you lift your hand to cover up your sweet smile. One that he had worked so hard to try to pull out of you, even if you're still wiping the leftover tears away from your eyes.

He’ll get you to stop hiding it soon.

“You know, I bet she hasn’t even noticed that you left.” You keep your voice low as you lean in, like you’re scared she’ll somehow hear you speaking poorly of her, but it doesn’t stop you from giggling quietly to yourself. “She’s probably talking to a couple of lilies right now, thinking it’s you.” 

The corner of his mouth quirks up into a small smirk as his eyes roam over your face, trying to take in every detail of the gorgeous smile pulling at your lips - the one that he finally gets the privilege to see. “Lilies? I’ll be honest, love, I always struck myself as the rose type.”

It’s such a stupid joke – one that he silently curses himself for the second it leaves his mouth – but you laugh so genuinely that he feels like the sun has burrowed itself in his chest. He knows he's gone the moment he realizes he'd do anything in the world to hear that sound spill from your lips just one more time.

“You look gorgeous, by the way. Absolutely stunning. Did you- you curled your hair didn't you? It looks nice..."

And instead of tensing up like you did before when he tried to compliment you, your smile turns shy and you hide your blush behind your mug as you take a sip - murmuring a bashful 'thank you' in response.

He feels like he could take over the bloody world with the way his chest swells in pride.

But his eyes flit down to your drink as you place it back down on the table, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear as you try to work up the courage to glance back up at him.

"That the drink I owe you?" He nudges his chin to gesture towards the coffee in your hands, still feeling a slight pang of guilt in his chest for being late and making you doubt yourself, and him.

But you just shrug your shoulders and give him a playful smile - one that makes his knees grow weak and his heart grow three sizes in his chest. "Should've been here on time."

Now it's his turn to laugh, and he shakes his head as he leans his arms against the table to tilt himself closer to you. "I should've. It's a shame, really...making an angel like you wait on me."

You let out a quiet scoff and roll your eyes, but there's no malice in it - especially when you sport another bright blush and supressed smile.

"Guess I still owe you, then." He murmurs softly, a bit more genuinely - just to show how serious he is about you.

He watches as you cast a glance over at the bright yellow bouquet you had propped up on the seat beside you, and he can see how hot your cheeks are, even as you hide your smile behind your hand - and he can’t help but smile along with you. He’d listen to that old woman talk for days just to fill every room in your place with sunflowers if it meant he could see that look on your face every time he saw you. 

"I guess you do." You nod coyly as you run your thumb over the lip of your mug, finally pulling your eyes up to meet his. "You'll have to make it up to me next time...and don't be late."

Next time.

He huffs out another relieved laugh, already melting under your gaze as he brings his eyes up to meet yours.

"Wouldn't dream of it, love."

A/N: I'm so sorry for the wait for this! I hit a block halfway through and was struggling to get my thoughts into words, but I hope this was okay! I’m not sure that there would be another part after this, unless some specific scenario between the two of them was requested. I also thought abt doing some random blurbs or headcannons with the two of them but idk! also the amount of Gaz + sunflower content I saw while writing this was insane. I’d like to think that everyone was blasted with a universal divine imagery of Gaz with sunflowers and everyone did their own thing and it’s all magical. Though, I also felt like I was going insane seeing everyone’s content bc I thought I was manifesting it. Anyway.

Taglist: @vixyyvix, @little-mini-me-world, @miyo-0oo, @milanriol, @z-wantstowrite, @nexthyperfix, @minminiie, @just-pure-trash, @the-ferret-of-fandoms, @my-anime-garden, @doinstime, @kaoyamamegami, @my-fandom-space   (I did keep the ppl from the first part tagged even though it wasn’t requested, hope that's ok :)!)

[thechaoticcherub]

A Problem (pt 1?)

Pairing: Dad!Joel x reader (and actually some Joel x Tess)

Summary: You are essentially a terror who's obsessed with your dad and HATES that Joel might fuck other people

Warnings: NSFW 18+, INCEST, DDDNE, age gap, reader is 18, sex, p in v, voyeurism, lying, feelings, not proof read or beta-ed oops, reader is a fucking terror and maybe a bad person idk, no actual sex between reader and joel(YET)

Notes: welll i'm dipping my toes back into writing more with some dad!joel i'm guessing i'll write a part two for this but tell me what you think.

You had a problem. It was a deep seated problem that wormed around in your subconscious, buried so far below the surface that half the time you couldn’t tell if it was real. It festered and burrowed in the back of your mind, wriggling in all those tight, uncomfortable places. It was your Dad. Joel Miller to the government. Mr. Miller to the kids on your street. Joel to Uncle Tommy. Daddy to you. You had never stopped calling him Daddy as you grew up and there was a part of you that began to wonder about that when you curiously started to google ‘daddy/daughter kissing’, watching your first clips of fake father and daughters…usually mitigated with the word ‘step’ in front of the words. 

Sometimes you wondered if Joel knew because you had never had a boyfriend, never talked about crushes like your friends did. But he was happy that you weren’t interested in boys, it made things easier for him. You never accused him of sexism because he had to scare away boys with threats of violence, because boys simply never happened. You barely spent time with girlfriends, squashing Joel’s considerations that maybe you were a lesbian. You wanted to spend most of your time with him. So you spent your teenage years close with your father. But your problem was growing all the time, gnawing on something inside of you, as if eating away at the wall you had put up to protect yourself from your problem. 

You had never even really been attracted to boys at school, or movie stars, or boy bands. No. The only person who had done anything to make your heart skip or your legs to quake was your dad. Ever since you were young. Back when he went on dates you would throw tantrums and be such a terror for the babysitter that he’d have to come home early. But you knew he had found ways around you to satiate his needs. You had seen the condoms in his bedside table drawers when you snooped in his room.  You had smelled lingering perfume on his pillow when you would lie down next to him in bed and request he read a chapter of your book to you. It infuriated you but you could never explain why, at least not to him and not really to yourself. 

You had thought for a while that he had stopped sleeping around, while you were in high school you never found condoms when you snooped, you never caught him with lipstick on his t-shirt but then only a week after your graduation party, curiosity had gotten the best of you so you stole his phone and read through his texts and got a rude wake up call. Messages to and from a woman named Tess. All similar and straight to the point:

 When can you come over?

Pick up condoms on your way.

My kids at a friends tonight, I’m off work now. 

I’m horny. Need you. 

Can’t tonight, watchin’ movies with my little girl. Tomorrow though, been thinking of that pussy. 

 Any normal girl would be gagging at the thought of her father in a sexual relationship. Not you. No. You were furious. How dare this woman feel entitled to any part of your daddy! You hated every time your name came up in the texts. Whether it was as a reason why  he couldn’t go fuck this Tess person or saying that you were gone so he could have her over. Jealousy burned through you. He wasn’t supposed to do this. You thought he was past that and you wouldn’t have to worry about someone getting him in the way you wanted. The thought slipped out in your anger. You had never let yourself really think about that but that was exactly what it was. You hated Tess for getting Joel in a way that you weren’t. 

You decided you would ruin their fun. Just like you ruined all those dates when you were younger. You were not going to allow this. That was how you ended up coming home “early” from a friends house the next night.  That’s how you ended up sneaking upstairs, not wanting to ruin their fun right away. You stood outside his bedroom door, listening for a moment. Voices. The slap of skin on skin. A high pitched, excited gasps. Then a deep rumble of a moan from your father.   You could practically imagine it. You had been unconsciously imagining your dad in those situations for as long as you had understood what that was. You knew that now and you were finally starting to admit it to yourself. Maybe he had his hands on her hips and was taking her from behind, maybe she was on top of him and his chest was slick with sweat. Maybe the hair on his tummy was wet with it. You let your imagination work out the scenario, but the faceless woman he fucked in your mind always turned into you. You swallowed, this was the first time you let these images swim to the forefront of your mind. That wall you had put up between you and the wrongness of your desire had been torn to shreds now. 

You knew you needed to make your entrance soon otherwise the plan would be ruined so you gave yourself a moment to collect yourself and then you shoved the door open as if you were just coming into the house and looking for your dad to announce your presence. 

“Dad, I decided to come-“ You cut yourself off from your fake entrance speech as you stared at the scene in front of you. Everything must have only lasted a couple seconds but it felt like everything hung in that moment for so long. Joel was on top of this woman, both completely naked, the blankets you wrapped yourself in most nights were shoved down around the base of the bed. He was between her legs, pumping himself in and out of her, her legs were wrapped around him, her head thrown back in ecstasy. You could see sheen of sweat over his back, the tightness of his thighs and ass as he pressed himself into her. You barely had a chance to register your father’s cock, buried to the hilt in this other woman when he jumped so bad and yanked the blankets back up around them. 

“What the FUCK!?” You shouted, it sounded completely believable because it was still how you felt, regardless of whether or not you knew what you were walking into. You hated this woman for what she was doing to your daddy. You were furious at your daddy for doing this in the bed you cuddled him in. 

“Jesus Christ, pumpkin, I thought-“ He started to talk as he wrapped the blankets around his waist. 

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my GOD!” You screeched, turning away from the bed. “How could you DO this!?” You shouted as you rushed out the door of the bedroom. 

“Wait-honey! Wait a second!” Joel let out an exasperated sigh and you heard Tess groan in frustration. You had to bite back a smile as you went to the stairs to run away. 

“Doesn’t she knock?”You heard Tess say and it infuriated you enough to wipe the smirk off your face. There was movement from upstairs and you started to put your shoes on, giving them time to get downstairs before you actually ran out the door. You feigned franticness as you heard steps on the stairs and Dad rushed down, followed by a very sheepish looking Tess who was working on putting her purse over her shoulder. 

You got your shoes shoved on and you started towards the front door, “No, please dont let me interrupt you!” You shouted sarcastically. 

“Honey, calm down!” Joel said, he reached out and grabbed your arm, stopping you from marching out the front door. Tess fumbled down the hallway, 

“I’m just going to go, see you, Joel.” She said to him, lifting her hand to him. The insinuation that she would be back and the way she knew her way around the house so easily sent you into another flurry of rage, 

“No you WON’T see him! Get out, fucking whore!” You shouted, sounding more and more like a child by the second. Joel’s hand tightened on your upper arm and he pulled you around to face him but you struggled, trying to rip out of his grip. When you couldn’t get out of his grip you started trying to hit him, around his shoulders, around his chest. 

“Hey! Quit it, kid!” You didn’t listen, you continued to try to pummel your father with your fists, even though one of your arms was trapped in his grip. You felt a sob rising in your chest. You had planned this whole thing but you hadn’t planned for how upset seeing it would make you. You wanted him more than anything else and seeing him give it to someone else made you sick. The sob escaped before you could hold it back, you feebly smacked at him again and he grabbed your other upper arm in his grip, now holding you by bother your arms and gave you a little shake, “What has gotten into you, honey?” he asked, sounding more worried than angry now. 

Your watery eyes met his brown ones, you didn’t know what to tell him. You were scared it was all going to tumble out of you without your permission if you opened your mouth without a plan. 

“You…why…” Your jaw jutted out. “You aren’t supposed to do that!” You said. Joel snorted, 

“How the fuck do you think you got here?” He asked and it made you even angrier.  You glowered at him,

“You aren’t supposed to do it anymore.” You clarified. It was Joel’s turn to look  little angry, he let go of you and took a  few awkward steps back. He had managed to get his jeans and a white t-shirt obut in the frenzy of getting dressed, his pants were still undone and it was obvious he wasn’t wearing any boxers.

 “I know it probably grosses you out to think of your old man…doing that…” He sounded uncomfortable, and God, if only he knew how little it grossed you out.  “Let alone…seein’ it the way you did, I’m sorry about that.” He avoided eye contact with you. 

Your cheeks heated up, your heart hammered in your chest and you found yourself longing to touch him. You watched as he uneasily reached down to do up his pants and your eyes lingered on the bit of pubic hair you could see until it was covered by his jeans. Your eyes flicked up to his and you watched something cross over his face. Had he noticed you look? Joel shifted where he stood. “But even I got needs, kiddo and…I know you don’t want to have this conversation-“ It was funny because you had orchestrated this very conversation. Forced it into being and here he was, thinking you were uncomfortable with it. You stared at him, your eyes on his, your tongue poked out and ran along your bottom lip as you watched him. “But what you saw was perfectly normal and uhh…I mean someday you’re goin to want to…with boys…like-“ he cleared his throat, “When you go to college.” You could tell how much he hated the idea of you having those feelings and you wished so badly that he understood that the only person you had ever wanted, ever needed like that was him. 

“No.” You said quietly, taking a step towards him, “No, Daddy. I’ll never want that from boys in college.” You were very clear about your wording.  

“Honey, we don’t gotta pretend you ain’t a maturing young woman-“ You watched his eyes flick down, you could have sworn they lingered momentarily on your breasts. Maybe that was just your hope. 

“Daddy,” you took another step towards him, looking up at him. “I hate that you were doin’ that with Tess.” You said, your lower lip stuck out in a pout. “I don’t want you to do that anymore,” You told him. Joel raised his eyebrows and leaned down towards you,

“Well, I’m sorry, sweetheart but you don’t get to make rules for your dad-wait, how did you know her name is Tess?” He asked. 

Part Two

[lalalychee-x]

"College boy." Rodrick Heffley x male!reader

THIS IS AN ABSOLUTELY GOATED request from 🌾🍞 anon!! I'M SORRY, ITS LATE!! Hope you enjoy though and feel free to give feedback!! Mwaaaaa asks always open guys, I love them!

cw: period-typical attitudes to being gay (not homophobia though), male/amab reader, older/college reader (21), kinda-rough making out, Rodrick in last year of highschool, so he's 18.

★ You are forced to come back home, stay at least a week during college break with your family. And you knew your sister had all the guys after her, but maybe leading on a guy who definitely was a joke to her was a bit much. You're just trying to help him out. You think so, anyway... click here for part 2

If you’d told Rodrick Heffley that he was gonna end up in the kitchen of a house that probably cost more than he’d make in his entire life — with another guy’s tongue in his mouth, no less — he’d have laughed in your face.

Not that he had a problem with gay people or anything. He was cool. Chill. Open-minded, in a way only someone who’d spent most of his life in a suburban basement with an eyeliner pencil and a drum kit could be. But him? Making out with some rich guy? Yeah, no way. Wasn’t gonna happen.

Except it was happening. Kinda. He just didn’t know it yet.

It all started when he got Heather’s number when he’d flirted with her outside the bowling alley, giggling behind their hands as they gave him the digits and told him to "swing by sometime." And he had. Of course he had. He was Rodrick Fucking Heffley. Girls loved him. Right?

So now here he was — standing on the porch of a massive house tucked into a dead-end road he didn’t even know existed until tonight. There was no answer when he rang the bell. No party. No Heather. Just silence, a pretty porch light, and a feeling that maybe, maybe, he was getting punk���d.

He was just about to leave — muttering under his breath about rich girls and their mean-girl cliques — when he heard that sleek convertible purr down the street.

You pulled up like you owned the whole goddamn block, engine shutting off with a smug little hum. You stepped out slow — lazy, bored — dressed in a leather jacket and black jeans that fit too well, rings on your fingers, hair still pushed back from your day, face unreadable.

Rodrick blinked.

You didn’t say anything right away. Just stood there on the sidewalk, one brow raised, keys jingling in your palm as you looked him over with the kind of stare that made his flannel and band tee feel suddenly...lame.

There was a second where you just stared at each other. He looked a bit like a washed up rat, sad, pouty and definitely trying to hide it. Then the guy let out a small scoff.

“You lost or something?”

Rodrick swallowed. He opened his mouth. Closed it. Then shrugged, trying to sound like he totally had his shit together.

“I’m here to see Heather.”

The guy’s brows lifted slightly more. It was you, and you're honestly not going to let... what seemed to be a creep, stand outside and look for your sister. “Heather’s not home.”

“Right, yeah.” Rodrick scratched the back of his neck, voice dipping into that awkward fake-confident tone he always used when he felt like he was two seconds from being told to scram. “She invited me.”

A pause.

You gave him a look — something unreadable, amused maybe, maybe not — before stepping forward and sliding your keys into your back pocket.

“You’re Rodrick, huh.”

It wasn’t a question.

Rodrick stiffened. “…Yeah?”

You sighed like this was the most exhausting development in his week, then jerked his head toward the door. “C’mon. I’m not lettin’ you stand there like a creep all night.”

“What?”

You tipped your head, deadpan. “You’re just standing there. Staring at the door. Like a creep.”

“I’m not a creep, okay?” Rodrick shot back, bristling. “I’m here to see Heather.”

You gave a sharp little laugh under your breath — cold and amused.

“Right. Heather.”

Rodrick squinted, arms up in almost defence. “Wait. Who the fuck are you?”

You looked him dead in the eyes. "Her brother."

Rodrick's mouth opened. Closed. “…No the hell you're not.”

“Yeah. I fuckin’ am, hate this damn house so I barely come back from college,” you said, stepping past him like you lived there — because, well, you did. “And yeah, Heather’s a bitch. But you? You look like a fuckin’ Craigslist serial killer standing on my porch.”

Rodrick bristled again, like he wasn’t sure whether to be offended or impressed. “Dude. I’m just—”

“I know who you are, Rodrick,” you cut in, unlocking the front door. “She told me. Didn't expect you to be real, honestly.”

You pushed the door open and stared at him for a second too long. There was something sharp in your eyes. Not hostile. Just…assessing.

He wasn’t her type. Not even close. But something about the slouch, the messy eyeliner, the smug little grin trying to mask the awkward twitch at the corner of his mouth — it kinda was your type. Not that you were gonna admit that out loud.

You stepped aside, voice dry. “Well? You comin’ in or what?”

Rodrick swallowed and stepped past you, suddenly hyperaware of how much taller (even if not literally) you felt. How nice you smelled. How warm it was inside.

“…This is the weirdest fuckin’ day of my life.”

You just shut the door behind him with a little shrug. “Get used to it.”

You didn’t say anything else — just brushed past him, your shoulder knocking lightly against his as you headed down the hallway like you owned the place. Which, yeah, you did. Rodrick barely had time to adjust to how nice the fuckin’ hallway smelled before you were already halfway to the kitchen.

He followed, awkward and out of place, eyes darting to the high ceilings, the family photos, the spotless hardwood floors. The house looked like it came out of a magazine. He felt like he tracked in dirt just by existing.

You pointed at the dining table as you walked into the kitchen. “Wait in here.”

Rodrick paused in the doorway. “What am I, a dog?”

You didn’t even turn around. “I mean, you showed up uninvited and you look like you bite 'nd have rabies.”

He opened his mouth, ready with a half-assed comeback, but you were already at the fridge, grabbing a can of something cold and cracking it open without looking his way.

Rodrick lingered for a beat before making a decision. Slowly — maybe a little stubbornly — he pushed off the doorframe and leaned against the kitchen counter instead, folding his arms across his chest, doing that thing where he stared at the floor like he wasn’t affected by anything at all.

You turned slightly, side-eyeing him with an amused little smirk.

“Didn’t I tell you to wait at the table?”

Rodrick didn’t budge. “Yeah. And I didn’t.”

Your lips twitched.

Huh.

He really was that kind of kid. All bark, too much eyeliner, and barely enough spine to hold up the act — but he was trying. You could tell from the way his jaw flexed, how he refused to look at you, as if meeting your eyes would confirm something neither of you were ready to admit.

You took a slow sip of your drink, leaning against the opposite counter, just watching him.

“This how you usually get into people’s houses?” you asked, voice lazy, teasing. “Show up lookin’ like you rolled out of a Hot Topic clearance bin and challenge the older brother to a pissing match?”

Rodrick’s ears flushed red. “Didn’t know you’d be home.”

“Yeah,” you said, nodding once. “You look disappointed.”

“I’m not.”

That smirk turned into a grin. “Sure.”

You let the silence stretch for a second, your gaze dropping to the edge of his jaw, the way he clenched his fists a little tighter when he felt you looking.

He was cocky. Slouchy. Barely legal and probably running on Monster and the fumes of delusion.

But shit — cute.

And way more fun to mess with than Heather's last boyfriend. Not that you believed he was Heather's boyfriend at all because NO WAY.

You tilted the can back and let the last of the drink slurp loudly, obnoxiously, like you were doing it on purpose. Rodrick flinched at the sound.

Then you turned, casually tossing the empty into the recycling bin like you’d done it a hundred times (you had), and cracked open the cooler on the floor beside the counter. The soft hiss of ice shifting echoed as you rummaged through it, then pulled out something in a blue-and-silver can — cold and probably cheap. Smirnoff Ice. A college classic. Trashy, sugary, everywhere.

You straightened up and glanced at Rodrick.

“You eighteen?”

Rodrick blinked. “Uh—yeah.”

“You drink?”

He froze for half a second — just half — but it was enough.

You snorted, laughing as you popped the tab on your can. “Yeah, okay. That’s a no.”

He huffed, defensive. “Didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.” You crouched again, this time deeper in the cooler, your hand pushing past bottles of water and chilled energy drinks until you found a can of orange soda and stood, tossing it across the kitchen.

“Catch.”

Rodrick’s eyes widened — he caught it, barely, fumbling for a second like it might’ve hit the floor and shattered his already-fragile pride. He cleared his throat and turned the can in his hands like it offended him.

You watched him with lazy amusement, sipping your drink, leaning one hip against the counter again. “You’re lucky. If you dropped it, I would’ve kicked you out.”

Rodrick scoffed. “No, you wouldn’t’ve.”

“Try me.”

The kitchen was quiet again, save for the fizz in your drink and the hum of the fridge.

Rodrick cracked the soda open, took a slow sip, and stared at you over the rim. He didn’t say anything, but his eyes did — a flicker, a shift. He was trying to place it. The way you talked, the way you stood. How old were you?

You let the moment linger before you said it.

“Twenty-one.”

Rodrick blinked, straightening a little.

“Just turned. Last month,” you added, tapping the top of your can. “Heather threw a fit ‘cause I wouldn’t let her come to the bar, y'know? Gotta tell her to stop whoring it.”

Rodrick flinched, taking another tentative sip.

You looked at him again, head tilted slightly. “That what you were thinkin’? How old I was?”

Rodrick choked on his soda a little. “What? No.”

You grinned into your drink. “Sure.”

Rodrick lingered near the kitchen counter, pretending like he wasn’t eyeballing everything in the room. The granite countertops, the fancy-ass stove that probably cost more than his van, the wine rack built into the wall. Who the hell lived like this?

You noticed him looking.

“Don’t steal anything,” you said, lazily sipping your drink.

“I wasn’t gonna.”

“Sure. You got that feral look. That ‘I eat cigarettes for breakfast’ vibe.”

Rodrick rolled his eyes. “At least I don’t drink Smirnoff Ice. What are you, a freshman girl at her first frat party?”

You barked a laugh, full and sharp. “That’s cute coming from the guy holding a Fanta like it’s a beer. You want a paper straw too, princess?”

“Do you ever shut up?”

“Only when my mouth’s full.”

Rodrick froze for a second. Your grin widened. He looked like a raccoon caught chewing drywall.

You leaned back against the counter again, arms crossed, casually sipping your drink like that hadn’t just slipped out on purpose. The tension in the room shifted — still playful, but tight, electric.

Rodrick huffed and looked away, muttering, “God, Heather’s whole family’s insane.”

You cocked a brow. “And yet you showed up.”

“Yeah, well—” He paused. “Thought she gave me her number.”

You smiled, slow and dangerous, and started walking toward him — not threatening, but steady. You placed your drink down on the counter and kept moving, until Rodrick backed up just slightly, hips bumping into the edge.

“You really believe she gave you her number?” you asked, both hands coming up to rest on either side of him, boxing him in. Not touching — yet. But close. Close enough to watch him squirm.

Rodrick faltered. His voice dropped a little. “...Well. I mean. Not anymore.”

You laughed again, warm and low. “Poor thing. Got punked by a couple of high school girls.”

He rolled his eyes and looked off to the side, trying not to look at you. “Whatever.”

You tilted your head, eyes flicking over him. “So what? You into her? That your type? Bitchy blondes who call you names and pretend you don’t exist in public?”

Rodrick scowled, brows furrowed and squinting. “Says the guy who is related to her.”

“Touché.”

There was a pause. Then—

“If it doesn’t work out with her,” you paused, “you could always get with me instead.”

Rodrick choked on nothing.

“I—What?! Dude, I’m not— I’m not gay.”

Your eyes glittered. “Didn’t say you were.”

He floundered. “I mean—not that there’s anything wrong with—whatever—but I’m not—”

“Relax, man.” You chuckled, real low and easy, tilting your head a little closer. “No one’s asking you to get on your knees.”

He swallowed. You could see the flush creeping up his neck, fighting the smirk he was trying not to let show.

You leaned in just a little more.

“...Unless you want to.”

Rodrick made a quiet noise in his throat — something between a scoff and a nervous cough — and set the Fanta can down behind him on the counter. Not because he was finished, but because he needed an excuse to look anywhere but at you. The fizz hissed faintly as it settled.

He scratched the back of his neck. “You’re messing with me.”

You smiled, real slow. “Am I?”

“You gotta be,” he muttered, eyes on the countertop now like it held all the secrets of the universe. “I mean. That’s what this is, right? You’re just fuckin’ with me.”

“Rodrick.”

You said his name like a joke and a promise in one breath. The way it dropped from your mouth made his stomach flip in a way he didn’t like. Or maybe he did. He wasn’t sure.

He looked up at you finally, jaw tense. “I’m not… like that.”

You shrugged. “Sure.”

“No, I mean— I’ve never—” He faltered. His hand made a vague gesture between the two of you. “This isn’t my thing.”

“But you’re still here.”

Rodrick’s mouth opened. Then closed. Like a fish. An angry fish. A flustered, horribly aware he might be into something fish.

You tilted your head, stepping in just a bit closer — still not touching, but you didn’t need to. The tension was thick enough to sink in.

“I’m just saying,” you murmured, voice low and amused, “if it doesn’t work out with Heather… you’ve got options.”

Rodrick cleared his throat. “Yeah, uh—well. I—I’m not…”

He trailed off. You waited. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, eyes flicking briefly to your mouth before he immediately looked back down at the floor like it burned him.

Then, quietly — barely audible:

“…Have you ever kissed a guy?”

You blinked. “Me?”

He nodded, sheepish. Still not looking at you. “Yeah.”

You raised a brow. “A couple times. Why?”

Rodrick didn’t answer. But he was chewing the inside of his cheek now, face pink, breath shallow. Hands shoved in his pockets like they might anchor him.

You stepped in just a fraction closer.

“…Wanna know what it’s like?”

If you’d told Rodrick Heffley that he’d lose his footing on his sexuality in the middle of a rich guy’s kitchen, with the house dead quiet and a guy’s mouth hot on his, he would’ve thrown a drink in your face.

Not because he was homophobic or anything — Jesus, no. He was punk, not a dick. It was just… him? Doing this? Never crossed his mind. Not until now. Not until you.

You were Heather’s brother. College-aged. Intimidatingly hot. Driving some sleek-ass convertible like you owned the damn moon. And now here you were, pushing him back against a cold marble counter, lips crashing into his like he was a fucking challenge.

And he liked it.

Rodrick grunted as his lower back smacked the edge of the counter, the sudden jolt making him gasp into your mouth. One of your hands slid down, rubbing over the spot gently in a rare flicker of comfort before it curled around his hip, pulling him back in.

It was messy.

Your mouth tasted like cheap spiked lemonade and something bitter. Beer, maybe. He’d never had alcohol before — not like this. Definitely not off the mouth of some guy he just met. It was a little weird. A little electric.

His hands fumbled awkwardly at first, catching the hem of your shirt, one sliding around your shoulder as if trying to find something solid to hold onto. Because he was TOO aware he looked like an idiot right now.

Your fingers found the edge of his studded belt, tugged him closer with a harsh yank that made him groan. His hips twitched. His whole body felt like it was catching fire.

He was… hard.

Embarrassingly so.

Rodrick stiffened, trying not to grind into you, but failing when your hand slipped lower to press at his back — guiding him in.

He gasped again. “Shit—fuck, uh, I didn't—”

“Relax,” you groaned actually annoyed with yourself when you should be feeling triumphant, as you kissed down to his neck, your own breath starting to hitch. “You’re not the only one.”

Rodrick's eyes widened slightly as he felt your crotch against his hip.

Oh.

Oh.

Well… shit.

You two stared at eachother a bit more until you slid your hands under his stupid band tee, both hands on his hips. You're surprised—you thought he would be a bit scrawnier. Not that he was built by any means,

Your mouth was back on his again — teeth catching his bottom lip this time, dragging until he hissed. Rodrick’s fingers clenched in your shirt, dragging you impossibly closer, hips twitching without meaning to.

“F-fuck,” he muttered against your mouth, shaky and stunned. “What the hell is this—what are we—”

You didn’t answer. Just kissed him again. Rougher. Meaner. Like you were trying to make up for every second wasted being normal around him.

“Look, do you want to do this or not?” Your hands were braced on his hips, and his belt buckle was digging into your palm. It was all metal and heat and confusion and want.

Rodrick's mouth opened, in nothing but a shakey breath.

Then— BANG BANG BANG.

A shrill, angry voice cut through the house: “HELLOOO? OPEN THE DOOR?? I FORGOT MY KEYS, WHERE'S MOM—”

You pulled back with a sigh, forehead dropping to Rodrick’s shoulder. His chest was rising and falling way too fast for how little space was between you.

He was flushed. Breathing hard. Lip red from biting. His hair was sticking up like he’d just been electrocuted and he looked fucking wrecked.

You grinned.

“Sounds like your little crush is home.”

Rodrick blinked at you, still half-dazed, lips parted. “Jesus Christ…”

You pushed off the counter slowly, casually fixing the hem of your shirt as if your dick wasn’t half-hard in your jeans and you hadn’t just kissed the guy your sister was supposed to be prank-dating.

“You comin’?” you asked, already walking down the hall.

Rodrick huffed, slamming back the last of the soda he’d left on the counter before following, muttering under his breath, “I fuckin’ hate rich people.”

And that was ironic because he was pretty well-off himself.

The door swung open and Heather practically exploded into the entryway, voice already halfway to a screech.

“Ugh, finally! I thought I was gonna get murdered out there, do you know how sketchy the suburbs are at—” She cut off mid-sentence, blinking hard. “Wait. Was that—was that fucking Heffley??”

You leaned against the doorframe, still slightly flushed, your knuckles brushing the curve of your bottom lip like you were trying to wipe away a smirk. Your eyes followed Rodrick’s retreating figure down the driveway, watching him fumble to get into his van like his legs forgot how to work.

You didn’t answer your sister. Just called out toward the driveway, voice syrup-smooth,

“Come back some time!”

Rodrick paused, mouthing what seemed suspiciously like 'fuck you' and then yanked the door shut behind him harder than necessary.

He was mumbling prayers and he barely even listened in church. I mean, he wasn't praying because he thought he had sinned or something — he was pretty sure Jesus would be fine with gay people.

No, he was praying because he was sure he just met the devil reincarnated.

Heather turned toward you slowly, eyebrows climbing toward her hairline. “Seriously. Seriously? What the hell was that?!”

You shrugged like it was nothing. Like you didn’t still taste him on your tongue.

“Dunno. Might stay back for the rest of the holiday.”

Heather blinked. “You’re deranged.”

You just grinned wider.

click here for part 2

♡ Please do not modify, steal, plagarise or post on other platforms without asking. Thank you!

divider creds: @cursed-carmine

[firewasabeast]

Make It Ours

aka the one where Tommy asks Buck to move in

It started a little ridiculously. Buck didn't usually decorate his place for Halloween, but in his excitement over Bobby being back he'd gotten way too much for the firehouse and had a lot left over. So he took some paper bats home and hung them from his ceiling.

That should have been the end of it.

“We've got enough candy for a small army, I'm sure,” Buck said, resting his head on Tommy's chest, a hand softly rubbing over his pec.

“We don't really have any kids that come out to Harbor. A few of the kids whose parents are on shift will stop by, but that's about it.”

“Were you a Halloween fan growing up?” Buck asked, chills running up his spine as Tommy's fingers massaged his scalp.

“Oh yeah. We didn't really have the money to afford costumes, but I'd make stuff from old sheets or clothes that didn't fit me anymore. There was one year where-” Tommy stopped suddenly, and Buck looked up at him to see him staring out over the loft. “Are your bats animatronic?” he asked.

Buck's eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

Tommy nodded his head in their direction. “They're moving.”

“Oh,” Buck glanced back briefly. “Probably the air coming on. Makes them swing sometimes.”

Tommy halfway settled back into the bed, but it didn't last very long, because soon enough one of those “decorations” started flying directly into the bedroom. Then there was another, and another.

“Evan, you have bats!” Tommy exclaimed.

“I- oh my God, I have bats!”

Ironically, Tommy did not love all things that flew. Buck had known this since they went to the zoo two months into their relationship and ventured into the butterfly exhibit. That's when he saw Tommy dripping with sweat, barely taking a breath and clutching Buck's hand until he asked what was wrong.

And now, watching a 6'2 man made mostly out of muscle race to put on a shirt and shorts, foregoing underwear completely, so he could duck out of the loft with a yelp was truly fascinating.

The fact that he only stopped briefly to give Buck a kiss and tell him to grab his things and meet him at his place was the icing on the cake.

That man was inside me twenty minutes ago, Buck thought, a baby bat swooping above him. He felt nothing but pride.

Within an hour, he was bringing a suitcase and work duffel into Tommy's place. Tommy, on his part, had emptied him two extra drawers to go along with the one he already had there. He'd made space for him in the bathroom as well, and cleared a section of the kitchen counter because, “I figured you'd bring some of your cooking stuff with you.”

He wasn't wrong.

It took a few weeks for the bat issue to be resolved, due to the fact that Buck's landlord was out of town and no one else seemed to know what to do.

Once the place had been cleared of the bats, it took extra time for Buck to be able to air out his place and clean the droppings that had been so graciously left behind.

It didn't help that he had a pretty busy schedule, taking extra shifts before he knew he'd have a bat problem.

Eventually, Buck ran out of reasons to keep himself at Tommy's place.

One morning, as he got ready for his 24 and Tommy got ready for his 48, he decided it was time. “I think my place is now free and clear of everything the bats left behind,” he said, pouring coffee into Tommy's travel mug, then swapping it out for his own. “I'll be able to pick up all my stuff after my shift and get out of your hair.”

“Hm," Tommy hummed. "You should just move in here." It was so nonchalant it sounded the same as when he ordered his usual from the taco bar down the street.

Buck froze mid pour. “I- I should what?”

“Move in with me,” he repeated with a shrug, “if you want.” He walked over to Buck and pressed a kiss to his temple. “Think about it, Babe. I gotta go. Love you.”

“Yeah, I- I... I love you too.”

Tommy grabbed his mug off the counter and headed out the door, leaving Buck feeling like a deer in headlights.

Part of him wanted to chase Tommy out the door and ask, “How dare you ask so casually?!” The other part was eternally grateful Tommy exited briskly and gave him time to think it over.

Because, wasn't it too soon? He'd only ever done this moving in together thing one other time, and that wasn't exactly for a good reason.

They'd only said I love you for the last couple months. The words still sounded new, still made his heart swell every time they came out of Tommy's mouth. Still blushed when he said it back.

And did Tommy actually mean it? He did have a dry sense of humor that was sometimes easy to miss. Maybe this was one of those times. It was just a joke and he was meant to brush it off with a laugh.

He wasn't sure how long he actually stood there with a half filled mug of coffee in front of him, but eventually his phone dinged and pulled him out of his thoughts.

Stop panicking. Yes, I meant it. Seriously, just think about it.

Buck rolled his eyes, but couldn't help the smile that rose on his face.

Hate you. Be safe.

He only had to wait a few seconds for a reply.

Love you too. You be safer.

*****

“I'm kind of freaking out,” Buck said as Maddie grabbed her lunch from the fridge.

“Why are you freaking out?”

“Tommy asked me to move in with him.”

She paused briefly, eyebrows going up as she stood at the counter. “Really?”

“Yeah, yeah. Wh- Why really? You think it's too soon, don't you? It's too soon. That's what I thought when he asked, well suggested is more like it. He suggested I move in, and then told me to think about it, and then he left for work and then I left for work. And he told me not to panic and that he actually meant it, but-”

“Buck, I didn't mean anything by my really,” she interrupted, reaching out and squeezing his hand. “Honestly, I figured that was gonna happen once you stayed with him during the whole bat thing.”

“Really?” he asked, surprised. “I- I mean, you did?”

“You already spend more time at his place than your own. The bats were taken care of, what, almost a week ago?”

“Yeah.”

“And how many nights have you stayed at your place since then?”

“Well... Well, I had to work a couple of those days,” he tried to reason, “and then it made more sense to go to his place because we wanted to see each other but we were both tired from work.”

“You don't have to explain yourself, Buck,” she assured him. “I'm only saying it's not actually all that surprising.”

When Buck didn't look any more relieved than when he'd come into the call center, Maddie continued, “Have you made a pro/con list?”

He pulled a piece of paper from his back pocket and laid it on the countertop for Maddie to take. “Of course I did.”

She picked it up and read it over. “Great butt is number three? Did not need to know that.”

“It- It's a very detailed list,” he replied seriously.

“I can see that,” she agreed. “Although I can't help but notice there are no actual cons on this list.” She slid the paper back to him.

“That's why I'm freaking out.”

“Is this a bi crisis?” Josh asked, walking into the break room. “Because, if so, I feel like I should be involved. Also, I've been listening and I have something to say. May I?”

Buck nodded his head, resting his hands on the countertop. “Please. I- I could use all the help I can get.”

“Great. First of all, why are you trying to talk yourself out of it?”

“Because... Because, seven months ago I didn't even know I was bi, and then there was Tommy. And it's been great. He's funny, and kind, and he listens, and he's so hot-"

"Okay," Maddie waved for him to move on.

"Even when we argued, you know, we stuck around and worked it out. It's the healthiest relationship I've ever been in. It's the happiest relationship I've ever been in.”

“God, this sounds awful,” Josh deadpanned.

“Yeah, listen, Buck, if you don't want him I'll take him,” Maddie added with a smile. “I don't think Howie would mind.”

Buck grinned. “I'm just saying, it all seems so fast. I keep trying to think of reasons to say no, or wait a few more months, but I- I can't.”

“Okay, maybe you can't think of a reason to say no, because there's no good reason to say no,” Josh replied. “How's it been staying with him while the bats took over your place?”

“It's... It's been great. I thought there would be a big adjustment, but there really wasn't. He hasn't seemed bothered by my stuff being there, and it's been nice having someone to, ya know, come home to,” he added, a blush rising on his cheeks.

“Have you had any of the big conversations yet?” Maddie asked. “You know, kids, marriage, stuff like that?”

“Mhm. We agree on everything.”

Josh glanced at Maddie before replying. “I really don't see the problem here, Buck.”

“You don't think it's too soon?”

“I think,” Josh sighed. “I think life is really short, which you probably know better than anybody. And if Tommy makes you as happy as it sounds like he does, then you're the only one stopping you from that happiness.”

Buck rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a deep breath. “Sometimes, I still feel like a fraud,” he admitted. “Like it all came too easy. You know, I- I've heard how rough it was for Tommy to come out and all the crap he went through for years. I figure out I like guys and get a boyfriend in the same day, six months later he's asking me to move in and I can picture my entire life with him.”

“I think that's your brain messing with you,” Josh said. “Because to me, it sounds like you've had thirty-three years of searching for something that feels real, and good, and settled. And you've found it with Tommy.”

Maddie nodded. “I agree. He's good to you, Evan. Everyone can see you two love each other. I can honestly say I've never seen you happier or more sure of yourself. You don't need to doubt that. You need to let yourself have a win.”

A smile started to grow on Buck's face. He was pretty sure he'd already made up his mind, but there was still one thing that worried him. “What if it doesn't work out?”

“Then you do the opposite of what you're about to do,” Josh answered simply, “and you move back out.”

*****

Tommy already knew Buck was at his place before he got inside. The giant Jeep in his driveway was always a dead giveaway.

Half of him expected Buck's things to be neatly packed up by the door, ready to move back into his loft until his lease was officially up.

The other half expected him to be sitting on the couch with a downcast look on his face that said I'm not ready to move in with you without having to actually say it.

What he didn't expect was the door to swing back on him due to it slamming into boxes.

Once he managed to hold the door open and scoot inside, he looked around at well over twenty boxes that were littered around the entryway of his place, leading into the living room.

“Evan?” he called out, a smile already on his face.

“Here!” he exclaimed, exiting Tommy's bedroom and hurrying down the hall. “Here, I'm here! So-” Buck paused briefly to give Tommy a peck on the lips, then continued through the maze of boxes as he headed for the kitchen, Tommy following behind. “This isn't everything, obviously, but I don't actually think I'll be bringing all that much from my place. The bats pooped on a lot. Like, a whole lot. Plus, I like your furniture. The kitchen will have to have some new appliances, but I already ordered what the bats, you know, pooped on. You need to let me know what appliances have a family history for you- if that's a thing- before I throw them out. Some of this stuff is, well, it's terrible. Why don't you sharpen your knives, Tommy? Mind blowing. I know the boxes are kinda a mess, but I didn't want to unpack without you because that feels like me just taking over, ya know, and I don't wanna-”

Buck was stopped by Tommy grabbing hold of his hand and pulling him in close. He wrapped his arms around Buck's waist, and Buck's arms rested over Tommy's shoulders.

“I'm guessing this is a yes to moving in?” Tommy asked, nose scrunching up in a smile.

Buck let out a deep breath, grinning back. “Yes. It- It's a yes.”

“You didn't freak out too much?”

“I didn't freak out at all,” Buck protested weakly.

“Evan.”

“Okay, I freaked out a little,” he replied, ducking his head, “but not for the reasons you think.”

Tommy tilted Buck's chin so their eyes met. “What reasons?”

“I... The fact there wasn't a reason to say no. I- I freaked because it felt like it should feel too soon, but it didn't. It doesn't. It feels right.”

That's when Tommy leaned in for a kiss far less chaste than the one Buck had given him when he opened the door.

“Do we have to start unpacking tonight?” Tommy asked when they parted, resting their foreheads against one another.

Buck shook his head. He brought his hands to the nape of Tommy's neck and drew him in again, his tongue parting Tommy's lips. Clumsily, they began making their way toward their bedroom without letting one another go.

“Maybe we could work on christening the place then?” Tommy suggested, his nose brushing up against Buck's cheek. “For good luck or whatever.”

“Mmm,” Buck moaned, grabbing at the hem of Tommy's shirt and pulling it over his head quickly, tossing it on top of a box. “You have the best ideas, roomie.”

Tommy snorted at that, his head tossing back in laughter. “God, I love you.”

Somehow, they managed to make it to the bedroom, and Buck gently pushed Tommy down before crawling over him, leaning down to whisper against his lips, “I love you too.”

[dorkydegeneracy]

Let's get some things very straight (LOL) about that ICONIC Buddie argument last night.

Eddie WAS NOT the aggressor in this altercation. In fact, Buck was in a mood before Eddie even entered the kitchen. Eddie asked why Buck had gone grocery shopping when he had previously promised to do so himself. He was asking a question. Buck's whole demeanor suggested he was clearly bothered: "I was out. It's fine." Obviously a chippy response to which Eddie replied "It doesn't feel like it's fine." Because he knows Buck. And he obviously wasn't fine. Granted, Buck had reason to be upset: he was the last person to find out that Eddie had been offered the job in El Paso. Under normal circumstances, Buck would have been the first person to know.

However, these are obviously not normal circumstances. Bobby is dead. Eddie explains why he didn't tell Buck. His reasoning isn't because he believes Buck is selfish. Yes, Eddie is being petty here. It was kinda a shitty thing to say (although that might have been THE LINE of the year, so I am so glad that he said it), to which he later admits. However, his reasoning is a little deeper than that, and easy to discern if you listen to what he says: "You've been spiralling. Since the funeral. And no one knows how to talk to you about it."

This harkens back to Eddie's conversation with Hen and Karen earlier in the episode. Buck is presenting a façade that he is okay by trying to take care of everybody else, as Bobby requested of him. Asking weird ass grief questions. But the people who love him. The person who loves him, wants him to drop the act and actually process his own grief.

Add all of that, to the fact that Eddie is trying to process his own grief and one would understand Eddie's reaction to Buck stating (in an equally petty manner, I might add) "Sorry I'm sad that Bobby is dead." NO SHIT SHERLOCK! Note that in this instance, by saying that, Buck is explicitly thinking about his own feelings and not considering the feelings of his family who are also grieving. That is definitionally selfish. Eddie, rightly responds "You're not the only one that lost him! We all lost him." Because he is trying to let Buck know that the way to help is not through stupid psych evaluations; it is by talking about how each other is feeling.

Buck: "Yeah, I know."

Eddie: "Really? Because you never asked what it was like."

Eddie then proceeds to explain his emotions about Bobby's death.

And let's make it even more clear: Eddie WAS NEVER going to hit Buck. He would never hit Buck. He grabs his shoulder and points his little finger in his face. It's a call back to their grocery store altercation.

Unlike Buck, who puts up a façade as a way to avoid processing grief, Eddie's grief manifests as anger. That was the whole point of his street fighting plot line. He used fighting as a way to blow off steam. The problem with the street fighting wasn't that he was fighting: it was that he was doing so in an illegal underground ring. That story was never meant to characterize Eddie as a violent person. Because Eddie is not a violent person. He uses his passion for MMA as an outlet. Not everybody who knows MMA is a violent person. The opposite is actually true. Very few MMA fighters are violent people. It's an art. Just like dancing or figure skating.

Buck then apologizes to Eddie, acknowledging his TEMPORARY moment of selfishness. Eddie then expresses that he has yet to forgive himself for not being there.

"If I was there, could I have made a difference."

Buck misinterprets this statement as Eddie believing that Buck didn't do everything he could to save Bobby's life.

That's not what Eddie is saying at all. What he does say in response is

"I don't know Buck. I wasn't there."

Eddie hates that he wasn't there to save Bobby's life. Which is a large, and understandable, part of his grief.

The whole theme of this conversation is that these two are not communicating. Had they done so, they would not be upset at each other. Obviously, it is hard to effectively communicate during times of grief. So in reality, both Buck and Eddie are at fault here. Both have valid motivations behind their words and actions here. This is what grief does. It makes you act irrationally or out of character.

Yet, their miscommunication pre-existed Bobby's death: It started when Eddie decided to leave for El Paso. And the reason they were not communicating then is because neither of them understand or want to admit their feelings regarding the move. These feelings are that of love, which neither party is willing to admit yet. Yet.

Next week might be the first opportunity for either of them to voice those feelings.