#HUGE PINK BRICKS OF BOOKS

[yutaan]

Papercraft Sakura! I based her dress on her play costume from the second Cardcaptor Sakura movie. Picking a specific outfit was hard, because all her clothes are so nicely designed - but y’all know me; I’m always excited to use pink. 🌸 

Her hair color was also tricky to choose, because it varies so much between adaptations! In the end I skewed more toward the very light brown from the manga and Clear Card anime, but added a few areas of slightly darker brown as a nod to the older series.

This papercraft artwork was part of my holiday sale! It has sold now, but there are a bunch of other papercraft offerings up for grabs. Take a look if you’d like to snag some artwork, my lovelies! 

[starmapz]

love & company || r. sukuna

❦ biker ryomen sukuna x female biker reader || non-curse au

❦ oneshot

❝ you're beginning to lose hope of ever fixing your bike as the moon rises over the horizon when a man built like a brick wall and covered in tattoos stops to help you out. he's standoffish and his words are cold - but as it turns out the version of him you see is soft. who knew this man could ever become your best friend, let alone something more? ❞

❦ warnings ; 18+ only. contains explicit content. friends to lovers. fluff. hurt/comfort. p in v. fingering. oral (f! and m! receiving). degradation (slut). choking. pet names (princess, brat, woman, girl). size kink. rough sex. unprotected. biting. hair pulling. manhandling. toxic relationship (not sukuna). manipulation (not sukuna). reckless driving. use of alcohol and cigarettes. reader is implied to be short/small mostly in comparison to sukuna but he's huge so. ooc warning for sukuna given that this is modern and i want him to be more realistically human. i probably got some of the bike information wrong.

❦ words ; 24.2k.

masterlist

A cool evening wind chills your skin as you hunch over your bike on the side of the road. You’re thankful for your thick leather jacket to protect you from the brisk winds, but it doesn’t make it easy to work when your thoughts continue to stray to the fast-approaching night.

Your Kawasaki motorcycle puttered to a stop an hour ago and you’ve been on the side of the road ever since. Of course it would happen today of all days, where your patience runs thin and you want nothing more than to be curled up in bed.

Your small array of tools that you keep for times like these are finally proving useful, but you can hardly bring yourself to care as you run out of things to check. You’re almost certain the issue is a clogged fuel line at this point but without the necessary tools to check, you’re fresh out of ideas on what to do aside from calling a tow truck.

The sound of another passing motorbike is grating on your ears as someone speeds by on a bright red Ducati and you want to curse them out just for having a working bike, but to your surprise, they circle back a minute later and pull up next to you.

A broad-shouldered figure steps off the bike, pulling a dark helmet off and giving his head a shake, running a hand through his pink hair to give it a naturally windswept look. Tattoos line his sharp jaw and scars litter his right eye. Deep near-crimson eyes lock on you, a mildly cold expression spread over the tall man’s features. He’s just about the textbook definition of what you would think of as a ‘bad boy’.

He looks you over before taking in the state of your bike. The sight of you covered in grease and oil sitting in defeat on the ground is amusing to him to say the least- you don’t much look the part of a biker between your small figure and approachable stature but one look at your bike and attire tells him not to judge a book by its cover.

“Need a hand?”

Unfortunately for the tattooed man, he’s caught you in a bad mood.

“No,” you grumble, picking up your wrench and dipping back into a rhythm of checking everything.

“I’ve got more tools than just a wrench,” he offers. Your intense gaze looks him over again, surveying the black leather hanging off his shoulders and red helmet that matches his bike tucked under his elbow.

“I can handle myself,” you insist, not keen on accepting a stranger’s help, especially given his cold expression.

“Didn’t say you couldn’t,” he retorts with a click of his tongue. “Just askin’ if you want a spanner or pliers.” His eyes flicker to the moon rising in the sky. “Or a flashlight.”

You follow his gaze out to the rising moon, its light not offering enough of a look at your bike to be all that helpful as night begins to fall.

You sigh, wiping perspiration from your forehead with the back of your hand. The man’s lips quirk upwards in a minute smirk at the sight of the grease you accidentally wipe on your head. He thinks it’s cute.

“A spanner would be helpful,” you give in, pulling a pair of pliers from where you’d set them down beneath your knee to show you did at least have a couple of tools handy.

Pulling his hands from his pockets, the tall man turns to the backpack he’d set on the ground behind him. He sets his helmet on the seat of his bike and pulls out a spanner, handing it to you in place of the torque wrench you’ve set at your side.

He’s silent as you thank him and begin adjusting the spanner’s size to detach the fuel line. Standing in silence, he does little more than watch given that you don’t seem to want his help.

When the fuel line finally detaches, you groan as you realize you’d been right about the problem the entire time and the line is blocked. Without an air compressor, there isn’t much you can do to get your bike running again and your shoulders slump in defeat.

“Now d’you need a hand?” He asks with a raised brow and a small smirk.

The look you shoot him is fiery and he’d be a liar to say he doesn’t think your attitude is cute. It suits the strange vibes he gets from you in the best of ways.

“I’ll just call for a tow,” you insist, still refusing the help of the stranger you know nothing about, aside from the fact that he has just about the most high-end street legal sports bike in pristine condition and you find it to be pretentious.

“Suit yourself. I can fix it for free, though.”

You press your lips into a thin line, brow furrowed as you look over his features. The man practically towers over you, he’s built like a tank and dwarfs you in every sense. His expression is aloof, giving away very little about him. You have no reason to believe he’s lying though, so with a sigh, you give in and hand him the spanner he’d lent you.

The man lowers himself beside you, disconnecting the other side of the fuel line entirely as he begins pulling apart the carburetor. You sit back, watching your bike attentively as though he might do damage to it, but his fingers move deftly as if this is all muscle memory to him.

“What’s your name?” You ask as the silence stretches on. It’s a surprisingly comfortable silence, as he grabs a rag and water bottle from his backpack. He glances at you as he wets the rag and begins cleaning the carburetor.

“Sukuna.”

“You know your way around a bike.”

“Been riding for a while.”

You nod. Despite his kind actions, his words are distant and frigid, so you decide not to push the subject.

It’s silent for a while as you sit with your hands splayed on the asphalt behind you, watching his actions. Your eyes survey the man hunched over your bike, admiring the smooth lines of the tattoos that line his jaw, more ink just barely visible along his neck from beneath his jacket. His hair looks freshly dyed and his right eye is dotted in long scars that have you wondering what happened.

If the situation were any different, you might be hesitant to accept his help, but in truth you’re too tired to complain.

It’s not much longer before your bike is back together. Wiping his hands with the rag, he nods to the bike.

“Give ‘er.”

Pushing yourself to your feet, you turn the key. The engine flips once, twice, three times, before finally sputtering to life.

“Oh my god, thank you so much,” you sigh in relief, shaking your head. “I thought the issue was the fuel line,” you groan over the sound of the engine.

“It is. You need to replace it, this should get you a few miles away though.”

You nod affirmatively, reaching down to hand back his tools. Sukuna dumps them in his bag and throws it over his shoulder.

“You’re a lifesaver, I don’t know how to thank you,” you tell him, your mood no longer sour as your bike continues to roar, thankfully not dead on the side of the road anymore.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it.” He simply shrugs.

“Let me buy you a drink, or something,” you insist in spite of your exhaustion, though his cold demeanor doesn’t give you much hope that he’ll accept anyway, so you figure you’ll be able to get some rest regardless of the offer.

As he turns to grab his helmet, you half expect him to start his bike and drive off without another word, ignoring your offer entirely. It’s just the impression he gives you, but he surprises you.

“Keep up, then.”

Your brow raises and before you have a chance to complain that you’re covered in a layer of sweat and grease and you’d meant at a later date, his bike is roaring to life.

You scramble onto your own bike and follow him closely. Sukuna is half-shocked when you actually pull up into the parking lot of a small bar right behind him, pulling your helmet off and shaking your head in an effort to fix your hair.

He would be lying if he said he didn’t find everything about you intriguing. From your bike to the way you ride and your feisty disposition all packaged in such a tiny figure compared to him, he thinks it’s cute. Maybe even something more than that.

He leads the way to the bar wordlessly as you complain about the grease coating your body, but he barely notices the oil marking your skin. He’s used to it, if anything, from working on his own bike.

You aren’t even sure if he’s listening given his flippant attitude and lack of response, but you drone on regardless. It’s better than silence.

Choosing to ignore your frustrated rambles, he orders a whiskey and glances in your direction.

“I’ll have what he’s having,” you tell the bartender with a sweet smile, waving your hand in the air like you don’t much mind what exactly you’re drinking. It’s your turn to surprise Sukuna.

“Don’t think I caught your name,” Sukuna says as you lean over the bar beside him.

You tell him your name with a sweet smile, your mood clearly improved as you take the whiskey and damn-near down it in one swift movement.

When your eyes land on Sukuna again, he’s smirking. He’s not really sure what to make of you nor you of him, but he certainly likes it.

Though you both elect not to have any more alcohol in favor of driving home later, conversation comes easily for the rest of the hour. At least, as easily as it comes for Sukuna.

“Where’d you get your bike?” You ask decidedly, trying to make conversation with the stoic individual.

“A shop up north.”

“Looks like it cost a pretty penny.”

He hums in approval.

That’s about how most conversations with him go, so when you throw your jacket on and insist you should get home, you’re admittedly surprised when he pauses and holds his hand out expectantly.

You stare up at him curiously. Not once had you gotten the impression he was interested in any of your conversations, yet now he wants something from you? You can’t decide what to make of this, what to make of him.

“Sorry, um,” you stare down in confusion at his expectant hand, mouth opening and closing as you try to decide what to say.

“Your phone,” he instructs and your pretty eyes widen as you stare up at him, the difference in stature between you both now incredibly apparent as he dwarfs you when standing over you.

“Oh!” You stare at him with pursed lips and pull your phone out, opening it to your texts. He sends himself a text and hands your phone back wordlessly, before turning his shoulder as he walks out abruptly, leaving you further confused.

Chasing after him, you just barely catch him as he kicks his bike’s stand up and throws his helmet on.

“Thanks again!” You call after him. He glances over his shoulder and though you can’t see his expression behind the dark visor of his helmet, he smirks back at you before driving off.

As you just barely make it back home on your sputtering bike, you manage to replace the fuel line and shoot him a text.

11:53 PM You || fixed the fuel line. thanks again, youre a lifesaver

11:55 PM Sukuna || thanks for the drink.

In all honesty, you figure that’s the last you’ll ever hear from him, but you quickly find out that the cold disposition he gives off isn’t really all there is to him when he asks if you want to go to a bike show a week later.

He fails to mention that his youngest brother Yuji would be joining you for the show, but as you walk the show floor with him and his younger sibling, you realize his brother likely just got all the conversation genes.

Sukuna is still aloof, he doesn't say much to you outside of comments about the bikes and even though he’s the one that invited you, you still can't tell if he enjoys your company. Although he’s quiet, his presence is surprisingly alluring and you're grateful to have someone to listen to your ramblings, even if he doesn't seem interested.

As you walk the length of the convention hall, weaving between crowds of people that seem to part at Sukuna’s menacing figure, Sukuna pauses to look at gorgeous black Yamaha. You barely catch the way he silently stops, managing to point out the pause to Yuji just in time to keep you all from getting separated.

“Don’t think I’ve heard him talk this much in ages,” Yuji comments with a raised brow. You tilt your head towards him, following his gaze to Sukuna.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” the younger man scratches the back of his head. “I don’t have my license yet but I like lookin’ around. He’s usually pretty snippy about which bikes I should be looking at,” he shrugs. “You guys must have a lot in common for him to be so chatty.”

Chatty, you practically scoff to yourself. The man barely said ten sentences to you.

You do notice the way he shoots Yuji a glare or groans about his chatting on occasion, though. Not once does he direct that at you.

Even still, you don't expect him to keep inviting you out. Ten sentences isn’t exactly something to form a friendship on.

Continuing to surprise you, you still hear from him. Next thing you know, you’re invited to ride with him and his brother Choso, invited out to dinner with a group of his friends and he even accepts your invite to see a horror movie with a couple of your friends.

You’re quick to learn that Sukuna is just like that.

Sukuna’s mild and somewhat haughty disposition is something you grow accustomed to as you learn how to talk to him. Though you find yourself talking mostly at him, you realize that’s just how he likes things. He pays a surprising amount of attention to your words, though you don’t tend to notice until he shows it through actions later.

He shows up to your work with takeout on his lunch break when you mention you forgot your lunch. He goes shopping with you despite his distaste for malls when you tell him you need some new clothes. He’s more agreeable when you’re around and his friends are quick to point it out, insisting you need to be there at all times to make him more tolerable, though they’re mostly joking.

He does treat you differently from the rest of his friends. You figure it’s just because your friendship is new, though.

After being invited along on a ride down the highway to a neighboring small town with Sukuna’s friend Uraume and his brother Choso, you eye up Sukuna’s plate. You’d ordered no side with your meal but god his fries look good. You shoot him a curious glance, met with his typical aloof expression, if not one of mild irritation. Glancing again at his fries, you reach over to steal one, pleased when you pop it in your mouth.

Sukuna rolls his eyes at you, muttering under his breath about you ‘being a brat’ and how ‘you should have ordered a side’, but it’s all a show as he lets you steal another one when you smile sweetly at him.

When Choso follows your act, wanting to try the fries as well, Sukuna swats his hand away with a hiss. “My plate isn’t a buffet,” he growls contemptibly. Choso wrinkles his nose, shaking his hand of the harsh slap.

When Sukuna gets up to use the washroom, Choso waits until he’s out of earshot to comment.

“How the hell did you get away with getting some of that asshole’s fries?”

You shrug. “Dunno. He just let me.”

“Grumpy bastard…”

Again, you insist you just don’t know him well and he’s being kind so the action is brushed off.

A week later, Sukuna insists you tag along with his buddy Toji to get drinks, but when you arrive at the meeting spot and pull your helmet off, Sukuna is haughtily arguing with the raven-haired man.

“C’mon, it’s cheap. Their food’s fine.” Toji insists with little more than a raised eyebrow and an unamused sigh.

“What food?” You ask with a smile as you saunter over to the two much taller men.

“Red’s,” Toji responds gruffly, his unamused expression turning to one of intrigue as he realizes you must be Sukuna’s friend. “You must be y/n.”

You grin at him as he smirks.

“Toji,” he introduces himself. “Now can ya tell this asshole that Red’s is cheap?”

Sukuna’s arms are crossed over his chest. “We can do better for cheap.” He all but hisses, his eyes fixed in the distance.

“I’ve never been,” you glance between the two with pursed lips, mentally chuckling to yourself at how much you have to look up to both men. “I think it sounds good.”

Sukuna’s arms fall to his side as his fiery eyes lock on you. He pauses for a moment, sparing a glance at Toji, but those deep eyes return to you with a begrudging sigh as he grumbles something under his breath.

“Fine.”

Toji’s eyes widen as he dangles his keys from his hands, his expression thoughtful. After a moment, he fists the keys as he gets ready to get in his car and head to the bar. He pauses before opening the door, a shit-eating grin spread over his scarred lips.

“Think I need ya to tag along more often, y/n.” He catches the tilt of your head and chuckles. “Think ya tame this shithead a bit.”

Sukuna roars something at Toji as he tries to catch him before the door slams and the car speeds off, leaving you giggling at the interaction.

Toji’s not the last to point it out, either.

You don’t think much of it, though. Sukuna just shows he cares through his actions and that’s how you come to know him as your best friend.

Sukuna is, of course, smitten with you. He adores how perfectly you seem to understand him. He loves the way you invite him along to everything with your friends despite his tendencies to scare others off. He loves that in spite of the trouble he gets himself into, your opinion of him never changes. He loves that you text him about stupid things, and that even when his response is inhospitable, you continue to text him like you would any other friend.

Because you’re his best friend. And he won’t admit it to anyone, but you know. He knows you know.

You get him. 

So of course when you excitedly text him about your date, you have no way of knowing that his naturally cold responses are no longer his usual tone. They’re frigid, maybe even mildly snarky, but over text you don’t see the way his brow is knit tightly in contempt.

When he meets your boyfriend for the first time, you notice the strange tension between your best friend and partner. Your boyfriend brings it up but you had warned him in advance that Sukuna comes across that way, so you brush it off as little more than Sukuna being himself.

Yet, you notice the little things. You’ve known Sukuna for a long time now. You notice the way his jaw tightens when he sees your boyfriend lean down to kiss you at a dinner for your birthday a year into your relationship. You tilt your head questioningly at him from across the table, a silent query, but he doesn’t give you a response, that mild expression never once leaving his eyes as he leans back in his seat.

“Kuna?” Your sweet voice pulls his attention down to you when you pull him aside as everyone is saying goodnight outside the restaurant. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’.”

You cock your brow at his flippant response, dismissing you with a wave of his hand. “I know you well enough to know you’re lying,” you insist with an expectant look.

God, that look makes his hardened expression falter. Sukuna is well aware that he’s unapproachable, scary even. His form is built and he towers over most everyone, not to mention his constant disinterested expression and the tattoos he sports.

You often tease him for his ‘resting bitch face’.

Yet here you are, hand on your hip, so small and sweet, a fire lit behind those gorgeous eyes of yours. Cute.

“It’s just been a long day, don’t worry ‘bout it.” He knows you don’t believe him, but it’s the best you’re getting and you know that as well as he does. Hurt flashes through your eyes and he does feel a pang of guilt, but he keeps it locked away as he sighs and pulls something from the pocket of his leather jacket. “Happy birthday, by the way.”

Your wide eyes look up at him in shock. You’d insisted no one should get you a gift, but when you texted him this morning and told him your boyfriend, so cheerily talking to your friends behind the two of you, had forgotten your birthday, he couldn’t leave you empty-handed in that way.

You gingerly reach out and take the box from him. You know what it is instantly and the way your cheeks redden, the way it shocks you to silence has him smirking, mostly to himself. His hands remain in his pockets, his unamused expression locked on your hands that hesitate as you slowly open the velveteen box.

Lying so beautifully strewn in the box is a necklace you pointed out to him when you’d gone shopping together what must have been years ago now. A gorgeous silver chain lays delicately holding a dainty bejeweled star with your birthstone in the center. Of course he’d been paying attention. He always does.

“You didn’t,” it’s all you can manage as you stare at it in disbelief. To your surprise, Sukuna is smiling softly down at you, a rare sight that you want to burn into your retinas.

“You deserve a good birthday.”

You know it’s a dig at your boyfriend, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Maybe that should be a sign, but you’re too caught up in the moment as tears brim your eyes.

“This was so expensive though, I- I- can’t-”

“You can and you will.”

You know when Sukuna demands something, he means it. This is one of those times.

Tears threatening to spill, you wrap your arms tightly around his toned middle. If he weren’t a giant in comparison to you, you might have bowled him over with the force you hug him with.

Sukuna relishes in the moment, memorizing the feeling of your body in his arms, the way you bury your head into his chest, hiding your tears in his hug as they inevitably stain his white V-neck, but he doesn’t care. His arms wrap tightly around you, one of the rare times he returns one of your affections.

When you part from him, using your free hand to wipe your eyes, Sukuna takes the box from you, moving to put the necklace on with ease. He moves like every action he takes is practiced as he confidently clasps the necklace around your neck.

“It’s beautiful,” you hum as you look down at it, running a delicate finger over the pendant.

The salmon-haired man hums mildly. “‘Course. You chose it.”

You examine his eyes, your expression unreadable as you contemplate Sukuna’s actions.

He may be agreeable around you, he may be willing to make compromises with you that he won’t for others, but this is new for him. This is sweet, and he knows you’re thinking such a thing too when he meets those pretty eyes staring up at him. He doesn’t care anymore, though.

He wants you to be happy.

When your boyfriend confronts you about the necklace later that night, you tell him the truth. Maybe you hope he’ll realize he fucked up. Maybe you hope he’ll right his wrongs.

Instead, you end up in an argument as your boyfriend insists that his mistake in forgetting the date was honest but that Sukuna overstepped boundaries.

Maybe your best friend did, in truth.

And so as your boyfriend snaps when you defend your best friend and the argument takes a turn for the worse, maybe it shouldn’t be that same best friend that you turn to. Maybe that will just make things worse.

But the phone only rings twice before he picks up.

He sounds tired, his voice coated in sluggish exhaustion as he mumbles a ‘hello’ on the other line. You hear the rustling of sheets on the other end, a pang of guilt clawing at your throat as you know you’ve woken him up.

“Kuna?” The tone of your voice is foreign to him. Meek, strained. Even earlier in the night when you had confronted him about his cold disposition, your tone still held that unwavering strength and fire that he loves about you, so this wakes him up.

Leaning up on his elbow in bed, he squints at his phone.

“It’s three in the morning, y/n.”

“I know.” You pause and Sukuna waits for you to explain. He doesn’t need to say anything for you to know that he’s listening. “We got into a fight.”

Sukuna sighs, full of disdain, though not towards you. Never towards you.

“You safe?” His voice is surprisingly soft, though you chalk it up to him being tired.

You nod, before realizing he can’t see you. “... yeah.”

He hears you sniffle on the other end of the line and has to physically resist the urge to say things he’ll regret about your boyfriend. “Right. ‘M on my way. Stay put.”

He hangs up, wasting no time in throwing on a pair of gray sweatpants and a plain black V-neck. He runs a hand through his disheveled hair, although it doesn’t do him any favors and he isn’t about to waste time styling it. As it stands, you’ve seen him in a worse state after some particularly wild nights that had ended with one of you on the other’s couch.

His bike roars to life outside his apartment and he’s off into the cold night air, barely grazing his skin as his leather jacket and helmet protect him from the bite. He pushes the limits of his bike and of the road as he speeds past any cars he comes across on the short drive to your house, and he’s glad he did when he spots you on your front doorstep, head in your hands in little more than pajama shorts and a tank top.

He’s off his bike in an instant, shaking his head as he takes his helmet off in an effort to fix his hair before he kneels in front of you.

You’re relieved at the sight of him, clearly fresh out of bed and having hurried right over. Your knight in shining armor. Or at least a shiny red helmet.

His brow furrows as he looks you over, spotting the goosebumps that litter your bare legs and arms. 

“Shit,” he mutters as he rolls his shoulders and shrugs his leather jacket off, wrapping it around you. It engulfs your figure almost entirely, draping over you like a dress. If the situation was any different he would think it’s adorable.

You look up at him between long, wet lashes, fresh tears streaking down your makeup-stained cheeks. Your eyes are red and puffy from crying and you’re sure your exhaustion and defeat are written across your face in bright bold lettering by the way he frowns.

“Did he kick you out?”

“It’s a long story,” you mutter, just barely audible.

“I got time.”

There’s a note of contempt that floats between his words and you know just as well as he does that he’s resisting the urge to beat down your door and knock some sense into your boyfriend.

Your mouth opens then closes enough times that Sukuna grows impatient, muscles in his jaw clenching as he grows closer and closer to busting down your door when you finally find words.

“We’ve been fighting on and off since we got home,” you admit. Sukuna raises a brow. That was four hours ago. “He was pissed about- about-” you stammer over your words, biting your lip as you fiddle with the necklace that sits beautifully around your neck. Beautiful like you.

“Me,” Sukuna dryly finishes your sentence.

You frown and he knows he’s right. Of course. Maybe the necklace was overstepping this time, but he’d watched your shitty boyfriend step on you more times than he could count and hadn’t once said a word. He respected you and your fiery demeanor entirely too much to ever want to see you upset.

Yet no matter what path he chose, it seemed you would be upset regardless.

“He took my phone and went through everything,” you clear your throat as your voice cracks mid-sentence, staring down at the phone in your hands. The screen is cracked and Sukuna isn’t sure if he wants to know whether it was shattered before today or not.

Your words set him ablaze in anger. It burns like an itch on his skin and it takes every last ounce of self control that he has to hold himself back and just listen. The contrasting cold air is nice on his skin, soothing what little fury it's able to with its brisk touch.

“Do you remember that photo we took together on Halloween?”

Sukuna nods slowly. He knows exactly where this is going. It was well over a year ago, before you’d started dating your boyfriend, when you had convinced Sukuna to dress as a king and you his queen. He’d had a surprising amount of fun with it and with enough alcohol flowing through his veins, his words had grown more frivolous. He’d spent all night calling you his queen or his princess, pretty much until the moment he’d thrown up, the words ejecting from his dialect along with the alcohol. Regardless, the proof was in the texts between you from that night.

At some point in the night, you’d gotten a photo taken clinging to his shoulders, a calm smile on Sukuna’s lips as he’d carried you with ease. It made him smirk the following morning recalling the memory, glad it hadn’t disappeared with the words or alcohol.

Regardless, he’d missed his chance to shoot his shot, growing too accustomed to having you around to consider you didn’t see his change in attitude around you as anything more than friendly, so he’d retreated to his usual detached self.

Clearly that detachment wasn’t enough for your boyfriend as you flip him your phone screen. So it is newly broken.

God give Sukuna the strength to sit still.

“And you’re outside now, why?”

“I felt sick, I needed air.” You shrug, fiddling with your phone in your lap. “He got mad that I walked away and we ended up fighting again, then he slammed the door in my face.”

“He kicked you out,” Sukuna states matter of factly, venom dripping from each and every word.

“He locked me out,” you shrug again, but Sukuna doesn’t care for the details. You have no keys, not to your bike or your house, no jacket, you’re in shorts and a tank top… jesus.

“What a fucking prick.” With that, he’s on his feet and you know he’s about to slam his fist on your door. Or through it. Sukuna may be kind with you but the bad boy persona he sports isn’t a persona at all- Sukuna would not hesitate to knock your boyfriend clean out. He’d been to jail before, one more time wasn’t a big deal if it meant keeping you safe.

“Kuna.” He pauses at the plain tone you say his name in. It’s not a warning, it’s not scolding. He doesn’t know what to make of it. “Not now.”

He huffs and clicks his tongue. His jaw clenches as his shrunken, furious pupils stare down at you, but when he notices your legs are shaking from the cold, he relents.

“Fine.” The word is grumbled as his hands reach for your waist and lift you to your feet with little more than a hum when you’re standing at your full height, barely reaching his broad shoulders. He leaves a hand on the small of your back, setting his helmet over your head and zipping his jacket up over your small frame in an effort to keep you safe when you climb onto the back of his bike.

Sukuna glances back at you as you cling to his toned abdomen, his bike pulling away quickly. Riding with Sukuna is familiar. Though you normally follow him, his quick riding pace and not-entirely-legal maneuvers don’t scare you the way they once did, because everything Sukuna does feels practiced, rehearsed.

Pulling into his apartment building, he pulls the bike into a parking spot and lets you hand him the helmet as you follow him up to his apartment.

It’s a bit of a mess, dishes sit in the sink, empty bottles and cans littering the counter and a garbage bag sits at the door, but it doesn’t matter because you’re warm and you’re safe and it’s not like he’d let you take the couch anyway given the current situation.

Sukuna moves to at least tidy the couch, fully expecting you to make yourself at home like you always do, but when he turns to see you’re staring at the ground in the entrance, his jacket wrapped around you like a blanket, he frowns. That’s not like you.

In fact, in all the years you two have known one another, Sukuna’s never seen you so spaced out.

“Did he hurt you?”

It’s his best guess as to why you’re so out of it, but when you shake your head, he’s simply at a loss.

Sukuna doesn’t do comfort. He’ll watch your favorite movies with you and make you food, but he doesn’t do words of comfort. He’s a man of action, and although the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on is standing in his apartment, he doesn’t dare to act on the stray thoughts running through his mind, even though he knows you deserve to be treated right.

Coming to stand in front of you, he sighs.

“Whaddya want me to do?”

Anyone else would assume he’s irritated with your presence, but you know it’s a genuine question. Your friend doesn’t know what you need and he’s trying his best to figure it out. He’s trying to help.

“Can I have a blanket?” You ask him, shoulders hunched in exhaustion.

There’s silence in the apartment as Sukuna moves to his bedroom to grab a blanket.

“The red one please!” You call after him as though that isn’t the one he’s already grabbing. He knows your favorite.

Returning to you, he drops the red blanket in your arms, his heart twisting as you pull his jacket off and hand it to him in exchange.

“Can I, um, come in?”

Sukuna raises an eyebrow questioningly, subconsciously fiddling with the tongue piercing in his mouth. Not once have you ever asked him to come in. You always, always, made yourself at home, even though it was much to his dismay the first few times you’d let yourself into his apartment in spite of his grumbles and irritated huffs.

Sukuna’s reaction is all the permission you need as you realize he must find the whole situation strange, but everything feels foreign to you. It’s not like you haven’t stayed at Sukuna’s before, it’s not like the couch isn’t your second bed, it’s that you feel like you’re betraying your boyfriend by being here.

Not that Sukuna would do anything anyway, you know he doesn’t see you in such a way. You may be his closest friend but he’s never once shown any sort of other interest towards you. Even if he did see you that way, he’s just not that kind of person.

Still, you gingerly sit at the edge of the couch, pulling your knees to your chest and wrapping yourself in the massive blanket. Sukuna moves to sit beside you, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. He looks at you expectantly, waiting to see what you want to do, if you want to talk.

But you don’t answer, and Sukuna is at a loss of what to do. A contemplative silence settles over you as he leans his head back against the couch, eyeing you and hoping you’ll say something.

“Can I ask you something, Ryo?”

The use of the nickname he lets only you call him quirks his brow as he realizes you’re serious.

“Do you think I’m pretty?”

That’s… not what the gruff man was expecting to hear.

His jaw tightens as his piercing eyes stare down at you. He rubs a hand over his face as he tries to make sense of the question, too tired to be thinking this deeply over something. He stares at you pensively as though the world rests on this one response.

“Yeah. You’re pretty.”

Your eyes fall to your knees and the way Sukuna’s head tilts, you’re sure he thinks he’s made a mistake.

“Thanks, Kuna.”

“The fuck did that prick say to you that has ya askin’?”

You hesitate, avoiding his discerning eyes as Sukuna’s chest surges with anger. Your best friend’s fist clenches in his lap as he leans forward, examining your expression.

“What the fuck did he say?” Sukuna’s voice is monstrous, but you could never fear his anger knowing he’s never once directed it your way. You know he’s irritated you haven’t answered yet, but even between his irritation and the gruff tone he uses, he could never scare you.

“He told me I couldn’t do better than him.”

“And?” Sukuna pushes demandingly, his fingers clasping the back of his couch so hard you wonder if he has the strength to crush it.

“That he’s way out of my league and should have chosen…” you trail off, not oblivious to the way Sukuna quirks a brow for you to continue. When you meekly whisper your friend’s name, Sukuna’s seething.

Fury practically drifts from his body like smoke and to your surprise you do hear the couch creak beneath his hand.

You’ve only ever seen Sukuna this angry once before.

Sukuna’s closest friend aside from you, Uraume, often accompanied you on your trips to the bar with Sukuna and would join in on your rides with their own bike. The two of them were two peas in a pod, similar in all the ways you weren’t, but if anything it made you closer to Uraume for having an understanding of Sukuna.

For that exact reason, you’d spotted Uraume’s discomfort a mile away when someone began hitting on them. Uraume could handle themself, so you didn’t think much of it until the man’s hand was tightly gripping Uraume’s arm.

Alarmed, you pointed out Uraume’s discomfort to your drunk best friend and he didn’t hesitate to clock the man hitting on them.

So when Sukuna is on his feet with a familiar rage brewing and doesn’t seem to know what to do with himself, you know you have to calm him down before you’re bailing him out of jail again. It’s not something you want to make a habit of.

“Kuna, it’s okay.”

“No!” He hisses, swinging his hand through the air as he stares at the door.

“Please, I’ll be okay, I promise,” you try to insist, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“It’s not okay for him to say shit like that to you,” he growls, glowering from where he stands over you, eyes on the door. He wants to leave, you know he does.

“It’s not, I know, but it’s not your problem.”

“Not my- What the fuck don’t you get?”

Your eyes widen at Sukuna’s question. His voice is frigid as ever, but for once you feel the shards of ice pricking your skin.

“What?” Your dumbfounded and hurt question hangs in the air momentarily as you try to process this outburst.

Sukuna’s scarred eye twitches as he runs his tongue over his teeth. He huffs out a breath as he sees your expression, forcing himself to calm down so as not to make this about him. He doesn’t want to say something he regrets, and he certainly doesn’t want that icy tone to be directed at you, ever again.

“He doesn’t fucking deserve you.”

Your shoulders fall at his words, his chest heaving as he stares at you with an unidentifiable emotion.

“Where’s this coming from?” Your brow knits tightly over the bridge of your nose. As you subconsciously chew on your lower lip, Sukuna has to do everything in his power not to stare at your lips.

“Look, I just care, alright? Or somethin’.”

You barely know how to react to your best friend’s admission of care for you. Not once has he ever shown an ounce of his care through words. Sure, he’s shown it in other ways, but this is a first for him.

His gaze is fixed on the kitchen, so he barely notices when you stand up and set your hand on his arm, your thumb comfortingly rubbing his arm.

“I appreciate it, Kuna.” You tell him with a tired smile, doing your best to reassure him that you’re okay in spite of the situation. “Just… can we please just watch a movie or something?” You’re too tired, too worn out to handle everything going on right now and you’re afraid the buildup of emotions in your chest will overflow if you don’t distract yourself soon.

Sukuna’s focus fixes on your hand on his arm, the way it seems to burn into him in a way he’d long grown painfully familiar with. It wasn’t uncommon for you to grab his arm and drag him somewhere, or hug him each time you said hello. Hell, the Halloween you’d both gotten entirely too drunk, you’d been on Sukuna’s back half of the night giggling and telling him, your King, where to take you.

Yet this time, the burn hurts. It hurts him to see you here with dried tears on your cheeks. It angers him to know your boyfriend had gotten away with treating you in such a way for so long.

He lets out a breath through his nose and takes a seat on the couch again at your insistence, watching as you drape the big blanket over the both of you. And god is it cute when you do, making sure he’s completely covered from the waist down like you’re tucking him in.

When you lean back against the arm of the couch, slinking comfortably back into the cushions and grab the remote, Sukuna feels his body begin to relax too, allowing himself to focus on your wellbeing here and now rather than the fact that he wants to pummel your boyfriend.

He’s not shocked when you flip through options and eventually settle on a Studio Ghibli movie he knows you’ve seen a million times because he’s seen it one too many times.

You know he doesn’t mind although he isn’t the biggest fan of the movie. Either way, it’s nearly five in the morning and you both know you’ll be asleep before you know it.

–

The next morning as cool air pours through a window and birdsong decorates each blow of the breeze, the pounding of your head is a rude awakening. It’s too early for you to be up given that you were awake so late, but your phone seems to think otherwise.

Your eyes flicker open blearily, and you lean up in bed with a yawn, realizing suddenly that you’re in Sukuna’s room and he’s nowhere to be found. Sitting up fully, you bring a hand up to your temple, pressing on it in an effort to ease the pain as you search for your phone, finding it eventually on the floor a small distance away.

Hopping down from the tall mattress, you yawn as you stare at the screen, your heart clenching at the sight of the contact photo on-screen as your phone rings. Your boyfriend has his arms wrapped around your middle, his chin resting on your shoulder as you both grin. With the way your screen is now shattered, it looks almost like a scene from a movie in the way it’s practically screaming a warning at you.

You’d spent far too much time alone with your thoughts the previous night. Hell, even with Sukuna’s comfort, his disdain for your boyfriend had been a bit of a wakeup call. Still, your thumb hovers over the green button.

“Hello?” Your voice is broken as you answer the phone.

“Thank god baby, I was so worried about you. I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have left you outside last night, I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

You take a couple of steps forward, walking towards the living room as your eyes lock onto the tall man draped over the couch, his limbs entirely too long for the cushions. He must have carried you to his bed at some point and taken the couch.

Your stomach twists as you realize your boyfriend’s words are all lost on you, you didn’t hear a single one. You’re not sure when you tuned him out, or how long you’ve been staring at Sukuna when your boyfriend’s words pull you from your thoughts.

“Y/n? Did you hear me?”

“Sorry, I’m a bit out of it. What did you say?”

He sighs in frustration on the other side of the line and you wince as his tone gains a familiar edge. “Where are you? I’m coming to get you so we can talk.”

“I- um-” you pause, brow furrowing as you stare at your best friend, who begins to shuffle from his uncomfortable position on the couch as your soft voice awakens him from slumber.

“Y/n?” Your boyfriend’s voice cuts through the haze again, but you’re at a loss for words as Sukuna lifts his head, irritation written across his face at being awake, but when he flips over on the couch and spots you, his demeanor softens.

“Yeah. You’re pretty.”

Sukuna’s words ring in your head over and over and you bite your lip. He pushes himself up on the couch, moving to stand a small distance in front of you in three long strides.

Sukuna may not have a way with words, but you never had a hard time telling what he was thinking just by the way he looks at you. As he stares down at you with a tilt of his head, you know exactly what’s going through his mind.

Like that, it all clicks. Of course he hated your boyfriend. The signs were always there, you just didn’t pay them any mind. The reason he was colder than usual towards your boyfriend is as obvious as the sun in the sky.

Sukuna thinks you’re pretty. He wasn’t trying to comfort you when he said that. That’s not who Sukuna is. That may as well be an admission that he would move mountains for you.

“Y/n, baby? What’s going on? I want you home, now.”

Your chest twists at his tone and as your eyes meet Sukuna’s, you wonder if your phone is loud enough for him to hear when his lip twitches.

You clear your throat, your eyes never once leaving Sukuna’s from where he stands with tousled hair, wrinkled sweatpants and a bare chest. It’s not unfamiliar to you, you know Sukuna is beyond hot. You know Sukuna could take anyone he wants home and you know he has a streak of doing so, but now that you think about it, it’s been a long time since you’ve seen Sukuna with anyone, and you know why now.

“You left me outside all night in the cold.” Your voice is meek, still mindlessly chewing on your lip as you stare at the tattooed man’s eyes, now lit ablaze with a fire that hadn’t been there earlier. “You know what- I should go.”

“What? Baby, come on we need to talk-”

“I have nothing to talk to you about. We’re-” You pause, your stomach stirring uncomfortably as all of your emotions seem to collide and collapse within you. You feel the tears that threaten to spill, your composure that threatens to break as you ball your hand into a fist at your side.

Sukuna’s hand twitches beside him as he does everything in his power not to lean down and kiss you then and there. He wants you. He wants all of you. He wants to show your boyfriend everything he’s about to lose.

He wants to make you his. He wants you to make him yours.

Yet, all he can reasonably do is set a hand on your upper arm. He can’t be selfish. Not when you’ve come to him in your time of need.

“We’re done.”

“Nonono, we are not done, hold on-”

“I’ll come grab my bike and my things soon-”

“-let’s talk about this, I just made a mistake, okay-”

“-goodbye.”

“Don’t hang up, baby, hold on, fuck-”

Your hand falls to your side as you stare up at the taller man.

He doesn’t say a word as a tear runs down your cheek, shortly followed by a sob wracking your body. Sukuna’s hand moves from your arm to the back of your head as he pulls you into his chest, holding you there as you cry against his bare skin, tears wetting his toned pecs.

It’s not his ideal morning, but at least he can shamelessly say now that he wants to rearrange your boyfriend’s face with his fist.

He won’t say it anyway, though. He knows better.

Your best friend doesn’t say anything but his actions speak volumes as he holds you to him protectively, unmoving as he envelops you into his form. He exhales deeply as he holds you tightly to his body, his fingers gripping you tightly. It’s reassuring to know you have him in your time of need and eventually your tears begin to subside.

You blink your wet lashes against his skin as your warm breath fans his chest and abdomen. He shoots you a disgruntled look as your lashes tickle his skin and he jolts at the feeling.

“Don’t be a brat,” he warns through gritted teeth, but it holds no malice.

You chuckle through tears. “Sorry, Ryo.”

He rolls his shoulders and holds you again, letting your face fall against his chest once more. This time, you’re careful to keep your eyes closed to avoid tickling him.

He’s surprisingly patient with you as he lets you stand there, only moving to take and silence your phone when he grows frustrated with the vibration.

When you finally settle, he leads you back to the couch, tossing his shirt and the blanket off the couch and onto the floor.

“Did you move me to the bed?”

He hums affirmatively, his chest warming as you smile at him. “Thanks, I could have taken the couch though. It looked a bit too small for y-”

“No.”

You breathe out through your nose in a half-hearted laugh. There’s never any use arguing with him when he’s made up his mind, so you give it up. Oh well.

“Can I stay here for a bit?”

You figure Sukuna will huff and puff and make a show out of it but he nods easily.

“Thanks,” you sigh, sinking back into the couch.

You stare at the ceiling. What a morning. You’ve barely been awake for ten minutes and your heart is pounding in your chest just from sitting beside your best friend, someone you’ve known for years.

Someone you’d long pushed any attraction for down into the depths of your heart in an effort to save yourself the heartbreak of being with someone who seemed to have no interest in you. Hell, you’d once thought he was emotionally unavailable, and yet…?

You can’t help but stare.

He’s exhausted, you’re not sure how much longer he’ll be able to stay awake as his head bobs down onto the back of the couch, mouth slightly ajar as sleep settles over his form. You smile softly at the sight, swallowing at the yearning feeling of wanting to settle into his warmth, though you know you shouldn’t.

You’re a mess. You’ve heard your boyfriend- ex- say things you aren’t ready to admit to yourself that leave fresh stinging wounds. Hell, that’s an entire can of worms you don’t want to touch right now. Your belongings, your bike, your entire life is all trapped in his house, in the house of someone that-

God why had you let him step all over you like that? It leaves you frowning as your heart twists and clenches uncomfortably. You loved him. Deep down, you know it’s the reason. You convinced yourself he loved you too.

You curse yourself for overlooking your feelings for Sukuna, for pushing them down. He’d always cared deeply for you, the signs had always been there, yet you never paid them any mind.

Chewing on your lower lip again, you get to your feet and grab the blanket off the floor, draping it over him. Your thumb brushes over the faded black lines that race over his shoulders and down his collar bones as you tuck the blanket over his shoulders.

He hums subconsciously, a serene smile pulling at his lips.

You smile back, turning to get some rest yourself. When Sukuna kicks his foot out suddenly and damn-near trips you, you let out a surprised yelp, spinning around to confront him.

“What the hell, Kuna?” You harshly snarl at him.

His lidded eyes just barely open, your reaction earning a smirk from him. There’s his feisty best friend.

“C’mere, it’s cold.”

It’s not cold, and Ryomen Sukuna is not sly, but your stomach flutters and your heart jumps to your throat anyway. Your shoulders fall to your sides in surprise, unable to be frustrated with him.

He flips the blanket up, his arm extended over the back of the couch. His expression is mild as usual but when you take him up on his offer and plop down next to him, his racing heart tells you everything you need to know.

Pulling your knees up onto the couch, you let him pull you against is chest, your head resting on his broad shoulder as he barely lasts a minute before the rhythm of his breathing steadies and his head falls back on the couch again.

You’re not long for the world of the waking either as you succumb to the temptation of sleep on his warm chest.

When your eyes flicker open again, your head has fallen into Sukuna’s lap and he’s splayed in what looks like an uncomfortable position with his arm and leg hanging off the couch. His head is still leaned back against the back of the couch with his mouth hanging open as soft snores part his lips.

It’s not the first time you’ve seen him asleep. You’ve spent many hungover mornings at his apartment and vice versa but now in the gentle morning light with the distant sound of birdsong as the only noise disturbing his snores, he looks peaceful.

You shuffle on his lap in an effort to get a better look at his serene expression, but his strained groan suggests that you may have awoken him earlier than he would have liked.

“Can ya cut that out?” He grumbles without opening his eyes as he reaches down and adjusts your head to lay more on his abdomen.

The irritation in his voice doesn’t hold a candle to the sincerity in which his arm now cradles you against him and you giggle, to which he opens an eye to observe you.

“Sorry,” you hum. He exhales as he closes his eyes again, sliding further down on the couch.

You lay in bliss on his toned and horribly attractive bare chest for what only feels like a few minutes before his eyes peel open and he’s drinking in the sight of you, his gorgeous best friend, smiling at him from his chest.

And oh my god, Ryomen Sukuna is blushing.

Would you really be his best friend if you didn’t point it out?

“Kuna?”

“Hm?”

“You a lil flustered?”

Sukuna’s brow furrows deeply. “I am not.”

“You’re blushing.”

“It’s warm in here, you’re laying on top of me and we have a blanket,” he refutes with an edge to his voice that tells you that you’re poking a nerve.

You also know him well enough to know it’s faux anger, playful if anything.

“Funny, I was told it was cold a couple of hours ago.”

His lip curls, chest rising and falling beneath you as he huffs. “You push my buttons.” You can see from the way a muscle in his jaw works that he’s fiddling with his tongue piercing.

“I could push more than just your buttons,” your voice drips with confidence, lowering an octave at the implication. You pull a hand out from beneath your chin, running a dainty finger across the length of his collar bone.

Sukuna’s pupils dilate in an instant, his attention drawn to your finger. He swallows hard, the corners of his lips pulling up into a smirk. All signs of his contempt forgotten, warmth swirls in those gorgeous eyes of his, but the smirk on his lips is devilish.

“Careful, princess,” he warns in a gruff voice that has you clenching your thighs together with wide eyes. Sukuna’s brow twitches as he feels your legs shuffle, entirely too happy with himself at getting such a reaction from you all from two words. He chuckles, his chest rumbling beneath you as you hide your face in his chest, heat radiating from your cheeks.

Tension is ripe in the air between you both when you finally meet Sukuna’s intense gaze and it makes a question pop into your mind.

“How long?” The words are blurted out and Sukuna shifts beneath you to get a better view.

“What are you on about?”

“How long have you liked me?”

Sukuna’s scoff hits the air before he can even register he’s made the noise. “Go get ready or whatever so we can pick up your shit.” His brow is pulled into a tight scowl as he all but shoves you to the ground.

You barely manage to catch yourself before falling on your ass, rolling your eyes as you steady yourself.

“Kuuuna!” You coo with a grin, but before you have a chance to tease him any further, Sukuna lunges at you. “Wait, wait-”

You shriek in protest as he barrels into your legs, effortlessly lifting you over his shoulder. He pays no mind to any of your protests, nor your kicking and squirming against him as he dumps you with little grace on his bed.

“What-”

“Stop complainin’ and go change or shower or whatever y’ gotta do. I want your bike back.”

Sitting up as you attempt to reorient yourself, you blink a couple of times and manage to call his name out just before he’s turning away.

“I don’t have anything to wear,” you tell him, staring down at your pajamas.

“You’ve been leaving shit here for years, find something in my closet.”

“Have I?” You wonder aloud, suddenly realizing your hungover mornings passed in his apartment are likely the culprit for many missing outfits. “Wait, why do you want my bike back?” You realize suddenly, but he’s already shutting the door to his room and leaving you in tranquility.

Standing in the silence broken only by distant birdsong and the muffled sounds of traffic, you find your gaze lingering on the door where he once stood.

How long? You wonder to yourself. How many signs, how many signals had you missed or brushed off all these years under the assumption that your grumpy best friend was just that- your best friend?

You set a hand over your fast-beating heart, trying to steady the pace it’s beating at as emotions run rampant through you. Between the shock of realization of Sukuna’s feelings and the shitty night you’d had- your birthday, by the way- you can’t help the shaky exhale that parts your lips.

It’s a lot to take in.

You take your time showering, enjoying the way the warm water rinses away all signs of the prior night. It’s a warm respite from the days that are beginning to grow frosty as winter approaches. Most importantly, the white noise of the water falling drowns out the steady stream of jumbled thoughts flowing like a river through your mind.

Perusing Sukuna’s closet, you do manage to find more of your clothes than you had expected.

“My nice leggings were here the whole time?” You mutter to yourself as you pull them from a pile of pants. Along with them, you manage to find a pair of jeans, more shirts than you’d care to admit, an old jacket and a hoodie.

Pulling on a form-fitting black low-cut shirt and a red leather jacket, you poke your head out of the bedroom door.

“Why’d you never give any of this back?”

Sukuna’s leaning out the window with a cigarette held between two fingers. He blows a puff of smoke out into the cool fall air before turning to you. He’s still in his sweatpants but has pulled his shirt on.

“I used to bring ‘em back to your place when I visited but they always ended up back on my couch,” he shrugs simply. “Wasn’t worth the time.”

“I didn’t know it was this much clothing.”

“Your memory’s shit.”

“Ouch,” you hold a hand to your heart, feigning being hurt.

He stubs out the cigarette, waving the smoke out the window with his arm before shutting it. “Done in there?”

You nod and exchange places with Sukuna as he showers. He takes less than a quarter of the time you did and is out with the most effortlessly cool style that you can’t help but be jealous of him.

His typical black leather jacket hangs off his shoulders with a vintage Harley Davidson shirt beneath. He sports ripped jeans on his lower half and blackout shades sit atop his spiked pink hair.

“See something you like?”

You barely manage to utter out a pathetic ‘uh’ before Sukuna’s chuckling at you as he catches you eyeing him from your place on the couch. He makes his way around the couch, patting your shoulder encouragingly.

“Let’s go.”

Shaking your head to clear your mind, you get to your feet and follow Sukuna to the door, stopping him before he can leave.

“Hey. Can you stay on the sidewalk while I talk to him?”

The tall man pauses at your serious tone, examining your expression. “Why?”

You know why he’s asking.

“I’m serious, Ryo. I don’t want you two fighting.”

“He treated you like shit, y/n.”

“I- I know.”

His jaw clenches. “The piece of shit deserves-”

“I know, okay? Please, this is what I’m trying to prevent. Besides, if you get into trouble, I’ll leave your ass in jail this time.”

His head falls back, eyes closed as he comes to terms with just how serious you are. He rolls his shoulders backwards once before nodding. “Whatever, fine.” His tone drips with exasperation and anger and you can only hope at this point that he means what he says.

“Thank you,” you sigh in relief, falling into place beside him as he leads the way down to his bike.

Though you rode behind him less than twelve hours ago, somehow it feels different today as he places his helmet on you and pulls you tight to his broad form. His feisty little backpack, so cute in his helmet. He’s not oblivious to the way your hands roam his abs either as a smirk pulls at his features. It’s a sweet momentary distraction from his searing anger.

It takes every ounce of self control that Sukuna has to stay at his bike as he watches you ring the doorbell of your own house. Thank god for the cold air keeping his anger from simmering through his skin. He’s sure he’d be a pile of molten anger otherwise.

You shuffle uncomfortably at the doorstep, knowing entirely too well that this is going to go poorly. You were practically asking for a fight by showing up with Sukuna but what better option do you have? Your wallet and keys are still sitting soundly on the nightstand of the bed you’d spent the last several months sleeping in. At least, that’s where they should be.

It takes a moment before the door creaks open, your ex’s surprised wide eyes staring back at you.

“Shit, thank god you’re home-”

You barely manage to duck from his grasp as he attempts to pull you into his embrace. Your heart pounds hard in your chest as you face your ex, whose face contorts to one of pain when you duck away from him.

“I told you-” You mentally curse yourself as your voice breaks. Closing your eyes, you readjust and face your ex with confidence. “We’re done.”

“We need to talk,” he insists, his voice sickeningly sweet, and it almost makes you want to gag the way he swings between sweet nothings and manipulative cords that twist your heart.

“We talked for four hours last night. There’s nothing left to talk about!” You swing a hand through the air for emphasis as your voice rises, staring at him in disbelief. “Just let me in, I need my keys and-”

His arm swings out to block the door, knuckles white as he grips the frame of the door. His brow curls upwards in… frustration? Irritation? Anger? Pain? You’re not sure. “This is your home. You belong with me.”

You swallow the bile in your throat like a stone straight to the pit of your stomach. Once words like that would have made you swoon, now you feel as though you’re a deer in the headlights staring at a man you don’t recognize. A man who holds the barrel of a metaphorical gun.

You spare a glance behind you for reassurance, spotting Sukuna sitting at his bike. If it’s possible for a man to have smoke spewing from his ears, Sukuna is the spitting image of such a thing. His face is red with anger, hands clenched at either side of his body as he tries desperately to hold himself back.

He still remembers the way you excitedly told him about your new boyfriend. About how sweet he was, how kind he was. Although it pained him to know it was someone else making you happy, he was just glad you were happy. But when you had invited him to meet your boyfriend, Sukuna couldn’t help but feel as though the man didn’t match your description.

He’d tried to convince himself he was just being jealous, but the more time he spent around you, the more he noticed.

The last straw for Sukuna was when you had invited him, your boyfriend, and some of your closest friends along to see the latest installment in the Predator franchise. You’d stopped for dinner first and your boyfriend had insisted on ordering for you.

Sukuna hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but he had found it strange when a salad had been set in front of you. Not once had Sukuna ever seen you order a salad. Well, he had, but as a side. Never as the entire meal.

He’d tried to brush it off but when you’d decided on popcorn at the movie and your boyfriend had insisted you didn’t need it, Sukuna made a point of ordering a large one and sharing it with you.

Now as you look back at him uncertainly, every bone in Sukuna’s body screams to move. Yet his brain tells him to listen to you. He takes a breath in an effort to stay calm, deciding to respect your wishes.

“You brought him here?” Your ex pales as he follows your line of sight.

That seems to give you the confidence to face him again as anger sears through your blood. “You left me outside alone! He came to get me!” You search his face for any sign of remorse. When you don’t find it, tears prick at your eyes. Over a year spent together and he can’t even show you an ounce of kindness.

“I told you baby, it was a mistake!”

“No- No. No, a mistake is forgetting to turn off the sink, not leaving me outside in the cold with nothing but a broken phone.” Your voice drips with venom as the cold of the previous night envelops you in its memory, a reminder that this is for the best.

“Your phone isn’t broken, get over it y/n.” You glance down at his fist as it balls at his side.

“You shattered it.” You deadpan.

“Can we forget about the phone? For fuck’s sake.” He lifts his fist in the air to bring it up to his forehead as he attempts to calm himself down. “Look-” he shoots Sukuna a glance before smiling, his voice growing honeyed. “We’ll figure things out, okay? Why don’t you come in?”

You hesitate. You see the red flags as clear as day now that the fog has lifted, and you know Sukuna is grateful when you pleadingly look at him. His signal to come beat the shit out of your ex. Well, no, it isn’t. But he wishes it was.

Regardless, he’s up the front lawn to the door of the small house in an instant, standing behind you with all the self-control he can physically muster.

“We’re having a private conversation, would you mind-”

“Whatever you can say in front of me, you can say in front of him.” You insist, backing into Sukuna as your ex reaches for your arm. You’re thankful in this moment that your closest friend is nearly seven feet and built like a brick wall as it could never really matter who he’s up against, he’ll always be the scariest one in the room.

Your ex’s mouth curls into a snarl, eyeing Sukuna’s hands that rest easily on your upper arms.

“You’ve gotta be-” he grumbles to himself, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his hand that isn’t blocking you from entering the house. “Come on baby, you know you belong with me and not-” he cuts himself off as he shoots Sukuna an icy glance.

You shift uncomfortably at the tone he uses as he says that you belong with him, growing uneasy the longer you’re in his presence. Steeling your resolve, you straighten yourself and muster as much confidence as you can.

“This isn’t about Sukuna. You left me outside in the cold last night and I called my best friend to get me,” you tell him without missing a beat. Sukuna is practically grinning behind you as your ex’s jaw clenches but you don’t see the exchange between the two men. “Oh, and I don’t belong with or to anyone.”

Sukuna squeezes your arm in reassurance.

“I need my keys and wallet. I’m taking my bike and some clothes.”

Your ex mulls over your words before relenting finally, just as you’re beginning to think you’ll be without belongings. “Fine, but he stays outside.”

You glance up at Sukuna, whose expression is unreadable. “Fine,” you agree, slipping from Sukuna’s grasp and into the house. Your ex goes to close the door in Sukuna’s face, but a steady hand stops him just as you dash out of sight into your old bedroom.

“Let go of the door, man.”

“Leave the door open, man,” Sukuna warns mockingly in a sneer.

“She’s my-”

“She’s not. She’s not yours. She doesn’t belong to you.”

“Go fuck yourself, Sukuna.” He rolls his eyes, pressing more of his weight against the door, but it’s nothing compared to the bulk Sukuna packs.

“Consider yourself lucky I’m not rearranging your face right now,” his deep eyes blaze as he leans closer to your ex, his words dangerously low. If ever Sukuna is thankful that he knows he’s a scary person, it’s right now as your ex flinches back and relents, leaving the door open and leaving Sukuna at the door.

Your ex disappears from Sukuna’s sight and he stands up straight, turning to the side as he stares at your bike. He knows you can handle yourself, but he still doesn’t love the prospect of you being alone with your ex for any period of time.

Sukuna especially hates how long it takes. He’s not sure how much you need to pack and he can’t make out whatever you’re talking about with your ex but each passing moment he grows less patient and less willing to wait outside.

Just as he’s thinking of stepping inside, he sees your tiny figure with a backpack and a suitcase, keys dangling from your fingers and your wallet held firmly in your hand. The relief on your face when you lock eyes with Sukuna is somewhat heartwarming, but what isn’t is the way your ex tries to grab your wrist as you make your way to the door.

You pull against him but his grip fastens.

Sukuna sees red. He sees red and he doesn’t think twice about stepping into what was once your house.

“Don’t touch her.”

Your eyes widen at the sight of Sukuna making his way towards you with gritted teeth. “No, no, no! Sukuna! It’s fine, I can handle this!” Your hand with your wallet and keys flies up as you maneuver yourself between him and your ex.

Your ex’s hand doesn’t loosen even when your arm physically blocks Sukuna from laying a beating on him.

You take a breath, looking between the two men. “I’m leaving. Please let go,” you say softly, so calmly it almost breaks Sukuna’s heart that your ex’s actions seem so normal to you.

“We aren’t done talking-”

“We are. I’ll be back for the rest of my things later.” You tug your wrist again, sending a pleading look to your ex, but his grip only tightens. “Please let go.”

“Y/n, please. Please, we can work this out.”

“Let go,” you tell him firmly, ignoring his words.

“Please-”

“I don’t know if you’re incapable of listening or if you just want your head bashed in, but I’d listen to her.” Sukuna’s voice is a warning, dripping with malevolence you’ve never heard from him before. His chest is pressed hard against your free hand and you aren’t sure you can hold him back much longer.

“Ryo,” you plead, looking between the two men as you try to pull your wrist again. Your ex’s hand twitches at Sukuna’s words before loosening and falling to his side. You breathe out a sigh of relief, glancing down at the bruising markings his fingers left behind.

“So he’s Ryo now, huh?”

You glare pointedly at your ex, knowing that one wrong word will have him with his face caved in.

Sukuna’s intense stare never once leaves your ex, but he does allow you to hand him your suitcase and gently tug his forearm to follow you out the door.

Your ex watches from the door as Sukuna follows you to your bike. His intent gaze has your hair standing on end but you choose to ignore the feeling in favor of hopping on your bike.

The sound of your bike roaring to life puts both you and Sukuna at ease and you ride down the driveway, stopping next to his bike. He jogs after you with your suitcase still in-hand.

Sukuna is quiet, which isn’t unusual for him but you can practically feel the anger coming off of him in droves like smoke. Kicking your bike’s stand out, you hop off and flip his Ducati’s storage compartment open, pulling out a couple of straps to secure your suitcase to the back of your bike.

“Ready?”

You pull your friend’s attention from your ex finally as your hand comes to rest on his bicep. His eyes travel from your face to your arm that rests on him, where he can see the way your wrist is reddened and sure to bruise.

Realizing the sight of your reddened arm has his jaw clenching with anger, you move it behind your back and out of sight.

“Kuna, please.”

His intense gaze examines yours as the breeze faintly ruffles his spiked hair. He’s completely still apart from the muscle working in his jaw as he thinks over his options at this moment, but his chest heaves as he sighs in exasperation and gives in.

“Whatever,” he growls, shooting a poisonous look back at the door that your ex hasn’t moved from. Sukuna haughtily pulls his helmet on over his head, flipping his visor down before getting on his bike and accelerating quickly.

Based on the way Sukuna weaves through traffic and carelessly speeds through lights, you know he’s furious. You pull your bike into the parking spot next to him a couple of minutes after he pulls in, finding him pacing in the parking garage.

Shutting off your bike and pulling off your helmet, you approach him with angled brows, trying to reassure him. “Thanks for coming with me, I appreciate it.” He’s blinded by rage and you’re not even sure if he hears you. “Kuna, I’m okay,” you insist, reaching out to put a hand on his arm but he still brushes past you.

Sighing, you unload your suitcase from the back of your bike and return the bungee cables to the storage compartment of the Ducati as you let Sukuna blow off some steam.

Once everything is ready to go up to Sukuna’s apartment, you turn your attention back to him.

“Can we go up to your place?”

“He hurt you,” Sukuna hisses with pupils the size of pinpricks. It would be intimidating if you didn’t know that anger was directed elsewhere.

“It’s nothing really, it doesn’t hurt.”

“Fucking asshole, I should have-”

“Nope, we’re not going into that. I don’t want to know what you think you should have done.”

You grab your suitcase and begin rolling it through the parkade to the elevator, relieved when you hear a frustrated grunt behind you and a pair of keys clinking. The ride up to his apartment is silent, shrouded in anger.

Really, you should be the angry one but if anything, you're more relieved. Relieved that you have someone like Sukuna to stay with, someone who’s so willing to come get you at three in the morning when you need him most.

Sukuna swings the door to his apartment open, slamming against the doorstop loudly before creaking shut. His hand flies to his pocket as he trudges across the apartment, tossing his leather jacket on the couch and leaning out the window as he lights a cigarette.

A puff of smoke leaves his mouth as he swings his head back with closed eyes.

Shaking your head, you decide not to give him a hard time for his bad habit and give him space as you busy yourself with setting the couch up nicely for yourself to sleep on given that you were now homeless, among other things.

Sukuna takes his time at the window, stubbing out his cigarette when it’s barely an inch long and finally approaching you from where you sit on the floor looking through your bag, taking inventory of what you have and what you’ll need to pick up eventually.

Your pretty face smiles up at him when his shadow blocks your view and he finds himself relaxing more from the sight of you than he had from the nicotine.

“Are you okay?” You tilt your head, noting that he seems more calm now and he nods.

“Should be askin’ you that.”

“I’m okay. I mean it,” you insist.

His eyes flicker down to your wrist again but he knows better than to doubt you and he knows you can handle the pain. Sitting down on the couch behind you, he leans back and watches you quietly.

“I got the things that were most important, but hopefully I can go back and grab everything else eventually,” you note, more to yourself than him. He still hums in acknowledgement. “Why’d you want my bike back so bad, by the way?”

Your friend leans forward on his knees. “So I can still go for rides with you.”

“What, do I make a bad backpack?” You tease with a grin that has Sukuna’s shoulders falling to his sides as his anger subsides completely.

“Hard to drive when you’re feelin’ me up, princess.”

Your lips purse as your cheeks redden, caught off-guard by his nonchalant smirk. You’d felt up his abs a bit during the ride to your old place, sure, but being called out still had the tips of your ears heating up.

You stubbornly avoid his gaze, going back to figuring out if you’d forgotten anything. Deep chuckles resonate from behind you as your new roommate ruffles your hair and gets to his feet.

“By the way we’re goin’ out tonight.”

You tilt your head, eyes following Sukuna as he saunters over to the fridge and pulls out an energy drink.

“Where’d you have in mind?” You ask curiously, not entirely sure you’re in the mood to go out.

“That new rom com movie or whatever that you wanted to see is showing tonight. I got tickets.” He reaches back into the fridge and pulls out your favorite beverage, tossing it to you.

You barely manage to catch it, mumbling a thank you. “I don’t really know if I’m up for it,” you admit, staring at the drink in your hands.

“I already bought the tickets,” he shrugs, laying back on the couch again. “Suck it up.”

Your nose wrinkles in distaste but you know it’s likely for the best that you’re out of the house so you do, in fact, suck it up.

It quickly becomes time for the movie and you find yourself back in the parking garage a couple of hours before sunset.

“Can you drive?”

“You gonna feel me up again?” Sukuna raises a brow at you, but a hint of a smirk pulls at his lips.

“... Can I?”

Your confidence catches him off-guard and he blanches, his lips parting as he stares at you. His eyes flicker to your lips and that single action has your heart beating fast and hard in your chest. The fluttering in your stomach as you wait for him to react is enough to make you wretch and you consider yourself lucky that he seems to pull himself together as his lips tug upwards into a sly grin.

He takes a step forward, dipping his head down to whisper in your ear. “Don’t stray too low while I’m drivin’.”

You’re left choking on air as Sukuna’s tone sends a jolt of electricity straight up your spine, setting your entire body ablaze. Your eyes trail the length of his body, pausing as you watch him pull his leather jacket over his thin white shirt. The way his muscles ripple and tense with each movement has you swallowing hard as you realize just how built and toned he really is.

You’re thankful you aren’t caught and are spared from Sukuna’s teasing as you hop onto the back of his bike, purposefully making a show of feeling up his abs. Moving from his pecs, across the peaks and valleys of each set of muscles, down until you take pause as you feel the waist of his pants connect with the tips of your fingers.

Sukuna groans, looking over his shoulder before he puts on his helmet. “Not while I’m driving, got it?”

You nod at him, batting your eyelashes sweetly. He huffs, adjusting the crotch of his pants before pulling his helmet on. He waits for you to follow suit before pulling out of the parking garage and heading to the theater.

Sukuna’s warmth is both a beacon of hope and a searing flame to your skin. A comfort and an exciting new idea to explore. You hold onto him tightly, your body melting into his heat as he drives much more carefully with you hooked onto him than he had earlier in the day.

Sukuna pulls into a spot by the front door of the theater and waits for you to let go before hopping off of the bike himself.

“Popcorn?” He asks you mildly, hands in his pockets.

“Um, that’s alright.”

Sukuna’s eyes narrow. “Why?”

“I don’t need popcorn.”

“Don’t need or don’t want?”

You pause, your brow knit as you silently question what he means, but Sukuna’s seen this play out before with your ex and he wants to break this habit.

“Do you want popcorn, y/n?”

You run a hand through your hair, exhaling quietly. “Yeah, it’d be nice.”

Sukuna nods, surprising you as he grabs not your forearm or bicep as he usually does, but your hand. His much larger, veiny hand folds over yours, his fingers tangling with yours. Your hand is so small in his and even the feeling of your hand against him feels like a reminder of just how cute you are to him.

Your cheeks are surely dusted in a red glow, but you don’t mind given the surprisingly pleasant eagerness in your chest.

With popcorn in-hand, Sukuna leads you into the theater, taking you to your seat and relaxing into the reclining chair. He lifts the arm rest between you, not once disconnecting your hands like it’s the most natural action in the world.

And in all honesty, it is. Everything with Sukuna is easy. It feels right. It feels right in a way you’re not familiar with and it’s exhilarating.

Given the cheesy scenario he set up for, you half-expect Sukuna to make a move during the movie, but his thumb simply continues to rub soothing lines over your knuckles.

It’s after the movie that he surprises you.

Bounding down the stairs ahead of Sukuna as you tug him along with you, you’re practically gushing about the movie that you’re positive he barely paid attention to. It isn’t his style of film but he doesn’t mind either way.

“-I mean come on, how can you not love Owen Wilson in that role?”

“Mm.”

“-and it’s so charming watching him start to learn and care about her world-”

“Mhmm.”

“-oh my god and when she realizes she loves him and she shows up at the tournament-”

“I’m glad you liked it.” Despite how little he has to say about the movie, he’s just happy you enjoyed it.

“-and when he gets her flooowers?-”

Sukuna chuckles as you continue to gush over the movie at him. Still hand-in-hand, he tugs you along, quietly listening to your rambles as he makes his way to his bike. His chest swirls with anticipation as you pay his actions no mind when he turns towards the storage compartment of his bike as you continue rambling on.

It takes only a moment for his hand to reach the delicate item he’s in search of, deftly wrapping two fingers around the dainty object. Keeping his hand behind him, he turns to you with a soft smile. Lidded eyes stare at you with mirth, an expression that isn’t typical for Sukuna, so your rambles begin to fade into silence as you tilt your head curiously at him.

“Flowers, hm?” He asks, pulling a beautiful, blooming red rose out from behind him. He holds it out to you, pulling you closer by the hand that’s still intertwined with his as you purse your lips in disbelief.

“I- I-” You stammer over your words as your mouth goes dry, eyes fixed on the gorgeous flower held in Sukuna’s fingers.

It’s almost a strange sight to behold- the same man you’d seen passed out on your couch dozens of times, the man you’d had to bail out of jail on more than one occasion, the same man who grumbled and complained every single time you went to Red’s Bar- now holding a dainty little rose for you.

“W- when did you even have time to get this?” You shake your head, it doesn’t matter. “Sukuna, this is so much I-”

His brows raise as your rambles begin again and although he’s flustered you more times than he can count over the years, he’s never seen you genuinely nervous like this.

“-you really didn’t have to do anything like this for me-”

“Y/n.”

“-taking me to the movies is already a big deal and I know the last day has been a hassle for you-”

“Y/n,” Sukuna chuckles this time, his grip on your hand tightening as he squeezes it in an effort to get your attention.

“-I didn’t get you anything, I don’t-”

“Y/n,” Sukuna leans down, capturing your lips against his. His lips are soft and the kiss is uncharacteristically sweet. His hand slides out of your grasp, sliding up your arm and coming to rest on your waist as he pulls you closer to him. He parts from your lips with a smirk. “Shut up, princess.”

You stare breathlessly at him, eyes flickering wildly between his eyes, his lips, before resting down on the rose again.

“Take the damn flower.”

“R-right!” You gingerly reach out, holding the stem as you bring it up to your nose. “You didn’t have to do all this, you know.”

“Well, someone had to,” it comes out as more of a grumble as his brow furrows, but his fingers curl into the skin of your waist as he speaks, betraying the meaning behind his words.

“Mhmm, someone.” You agree teasingly, smiling up at him. “Thank you, Kuna.” You rise up onto your tiptoes, resting a hand on his chest as you lean up to kiss him, just barely able to reach his jaw.

His chest vibrates in a content hum. “So short,” he mocks, tilting his head to meet your lips again. Pulling his other hand from his pocket, he pulls the flower from your fingers, setting it in the storage behind him and finding your waist to bring you flush against him.

Your hands slide up the length of his hard musculature until you find his neck. Your fingers tangle in the short hair at his nape and another hum slips from his lips, swallowed by your kiss.

He leans down to meet your height better as the kiss gains urgency, years of pent up emotions flooding from Sukuna’s every movement. His fingers curl into your skin, pulling you impossibly closer.

“Kuna?”

He grunts into the kiss, smirking against your lips when he slides a hand from your waist down to your hips.

“Can we-” you breathe out between kisses, “-go home?”

Sukuna parts from your lips, examining your expression with blown pupils, so wide you can barely see the deep color of his irises. He swallows hard, his chest rising and falling fast as he nods silently.

You let out a surprised squeal when he grabs you by the hips and effortlessly lifts you onto his bike.

“-can do it myself,” you insist but Sukuna doesn’t register your words, too caught up in the intoxication of your smell, your feel, your taste. He wants more.

Hopping on the bike in front of you, he waits for your helmet to be on before he starts his Ducati and throws his helmet on. Your hands take their place around his toned abdomen, sliding down without a moment’s thought.

“Behave,” Sukuna hisses loud enough that you hear him even over the sound of his bike’s engine. He doesn’t need your visor up to know you’re smiling innocently at him.

He clicks his tongue and speeds out of the parking lot back towards his apartment. Though he’s still more careful driving with his sweet little backpack clinging to him, you’re not oblivious to the fact that he is driving quicker than usual.

Relaxing against Sukuna’s toned back brings with it a comfort you haven’t felt in a long time. It’s strange, despite him speeding through traffic and the sparking tension between you both, it’s easy to close your eyes and relax against him.

It’s not a feeling you’ve had with your ex for a long time. Although you ignored the flags throughout your relationship and defended him when he didn’t deserve it, it wasn’t always that way, but Sukuna has always been a safe and worry-free escape from the world for you. Since the first day he drove into your life, since you first realized that Sukuna enjoyed your company as much as you enjoyed his.

He’s a hard book to read and an easy presence to be in.

Your eyes flicker open, not realizing you’d grown so relaxed holding onto him that he’d already pulled into his parking spot, parking beside your Kawasaki.

Sukuna instinctively moves to get off his bike, expecting you to follow him, but pauses when you move rather sluggishly behind him. Pulling his helmet off, he shakes his head in an effort to fix his hair before he eyes you over his shoulder.

“You gonna get off?”

To anyone else, it might come across as aggressive, but his tone is mild as ever.

“Sorry, Kuna.”

You exhale and push off the bike with a hand resting on Sukuna’s shoulder blade. He watches you curiously, tucking you under his shoulder and leading the way back up to his apartment.

Pulling out his keys in the elevator, he ducks his head to get a good look at your expression.

“Tired?”

“No! … Well, yeah, but I was just relaxing,” you tell him and he hums, his eyes swirling with mirth. You cross an arm over your chest, your breast pressing against your arm. His eyes flicker to the sight, pupils dilating as he swallows hard. “See something you like, Sukuna?”

Your lidded eyes and purring voice has the taller man teetering on the edge of self control. His mind reels with thoughts that aren’t appropriate for the elevator and the moment the door opens, he’s making his way to his apartment like a man on a mission.

Desire pools between your thighs at his eagerness, made more apparent in the way he fumbles at the door with his keys.

It’s not even a second after the door is closed and he maneuvers you against the door, helmets on the ground as his fingers move to flip the lock behind you before they travel up the side of your body, admiring your curves before he cups your face.

He captures your lips, hungry to taste you again. He wants to devour you, he wants to mark you and make you his. Your lips move in tandem with his, matching his fervor with equal eagerness.

Your fingers rake his chest, thumbs sliding over the length of his collarbones. The feeling of his broad chest beneath your hands drives you crazy and you press back against him, your breasts pressing against the expanse of his chest.

“Kuna, wait,” you breathe, chest heaving as you part from him. Vermillion irises lock on you as he pulls back, his fingers gripping your waist almost bruisingly. “This isn't…” You pause, your mouth opening and closing hesitantly.

“Out with it,” Sukuna encourages hoarsely.

You shoot him a wry smile at his blunt impatience. “This isn’t just a hookup for me, you know.”

He raises a brow at you. “You think that’s what this is for me?” You might even assume he sounds offended.

“No! No,” you clarify, shaking your head as your pretty eyes go wide. He rolls his shoulders, leaning his face closer to yours as he intently watches you. “I just… I-” you pause again, avoiding his intense gaze.

“It’s not a one night stand, y/n.” Sukuna’s pupils shrink as he speaks solemnly. He feels you relax in his grip, your eyes coming up to meet his. “Relax n’ let me take care of you.”

Your cheeks redden at your best friend’s boldness and you shuffle as you press your thighs together.

“I better not be your rebound, y’know.” There’s a teasing lilt to his voice now, the elbow holding him up against the door sliding down as his face grows closer to you. God, he’s tall. He’s tall and built like a monster, and between the size of his hands, his muscles, not to mention his height… Your wide, almost timid eyes flicker down to his crotch. He catches the action and smirks. “Don’t get nervous now,” he leers.

“I’m not!” You squeak, the blush spreading to the tips of your ears. “And… you’re not a rebound.” You grab his shirt collar as you pull him in for a kiss, much sweeter than the covetous one you’d shared a minute ago.

Sukuna’s eyes flutter shut as he finds himself relaxing into your touch when you slide your hands up his neck and into his dark, undyed undercut.

“I like you, Ryo.” You admit when you pull back just enough for the words to reach his ears. His smirk can be felt against your lips.

“Fuck, you’re hot.” In true Sukuna fashion, that’s his way of reciprocating your admission, because he doesn’t do feelings. But you know. You know exactly what he means.

You grin against his lips, giggling like a giddy school girl who’s just seen her crush smile. Sukuna’s chest rumbles at your sudden timid delight.

“You’re such a loser,” he chuckles, his hand moving from your waist to hold your chin. He kisses you softly, your giggles persisting against his lips. Your fingers curl gleefully in his hair when he pulls back with impishly narrowed eyes. “You’re makin’ it hard to kiss you.”

“Sorry,” you chirp, your eyes crinkling in the corners. “It’s just cute- you’re cute.”

“Me?” He pulls back, standing at his full height and making a point of showing off his broad shouldered stance. “Cute?” He tilts his head quizzically as if to prove a point but if anything, you find the strands of hair falling out of place over his forehead cute.

“Yeah, you.”

“I’ll show you cute,” he grumbles, and suddenly you’re lifted off the ground effortlessly. You shriek in surprise in his ear as you grasp at the back of his leather jacket. He mumbles something about you being a brat before dumping you on the couch and crawling over your body.

His form looms over you and you’re both suddenly very aware of the immense size difference between you both, something which might be one of Sukuna’s favorite things. He loves how tiny you are, how easily he can handle you.

Sukuna takes pause, his usually dour gaze filled with longing, admiring what he’d wanted for so long as you stare back at him with wide eyes. He loves the fiery attitude you always sport, but this flustered side of you is new to him and he drinks it in like a drug.

Your chest rises and falls quickly, eyes darting from his arms that cage you in, down the expanse of his chest that peeks through his V-neck, back up to that alluring tattooed face. His sharp jaw, his ever-present smirk, his intense stare, it’s all so goddamn sexy and you’re flustered to silence like a deer in the headlights being hunted by a wolf.

“Funny, you seem to have lost your bark,” he comments tantalizingly, dipping down to kiss your jaw. Now with your body trapped beneath him, he feels the way your hips twitch. “What happened to the brat from earlier?”

You swallow down a moan as his voice sets you ablaze. Your hands find purchase on his biceps, fingers gripping him tightly. You take a breath to readjust and bat your lashes up at him as you push through the sudden nerves that seem to chase you. “Brat? I don’t know what you’re talking about, Kuna.”

Sukuna grins, a devilish gleam in his eyes. “There she is,” he hums, bringing himself down to his elbows to kiss you wholly. His lips move urgently against yours, tongue swiping your lower lip almost immediately. He groans when you grant him access by parting your lips, drinking in your taste. You gasp in surprise as his tongue piercing grazes your tongue, a strangely pleasurable new feeling.

Your hands slide from his biceps up his neck, keeping him close, pulling him closer as you deepen the kiss. When you shift beneath him to clench your thighs as heat pools in your lower abdomen, he groans.

“Fuck,” he hisses into your mouth, catching you by surprise when he nips your lower lip. He pulls back for only a moment but in that split second the look on your best friend’s face tells you everything you need to know. You’re his prey, and he’s about to devour you.

“Kuna-!” You gasp in surprise when kisses down the side of your neck, leaving behind purple bruises as he sucks and nips at the side of your neck. Reaching the sensitive spot at the base of your neck, his teeth graze your skin before gently sinking in, testing the waters with a glance at your face.

You whine, squirming beneath him.

Sukuna withdraws with a smirk, running his tongue soothingly over the reddened skin. “Kinky little thing, aren’t you?” He purrs, rolling his hips against you so roughly you whimper. “Shit,” he mumbles and returns to his ministrations, his hips rolling against yours like a dog in heat.

“Sh-shut up, Kuna…” you groan, rutting your hips up into him. His movement stutters with pleasure and he nips your skin again in response. “Darlin’, hold onto me,” his husky voice commands against the skin of your ear.

“Hm? Ah-!”

Sukuna slides a muscular arm beneath the small of your back, pressing you to him and urging your arms to cling to his shoulders. You wrap your legs around his waist as he picks you up, holding your small frame to him in one arm.

He carries you to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him as you press kisses to his collarbone, leaving behind marks of your own. He hums, plopping you down onto the bed and standing to shrug his jacket off and unbuckle his belt, letting it and his jeans drop to the floor.

You’re sure your face is red as a tomato, pupils dilated as you admire his body, your gaze landing on the boner that’s pulling the fabric of his black Calvin Klein boxers taut. You swipe your tongue out over your lips, bringing your lower lip between your teeth.

Your best friend grins, pulling you to the edge of the bed by your ankles. You let out a surprised gasp, gripping at the sheets at either side of you.

“G’nna take my time n’ treat her right,” he purrs, falling over you as your legs wrap around his waist to pull him closer. He could be talking about you or your pussy, it doesn’t matter either way.

He lifts your shirt up over your head and you arch your back to make it easier. You’re so pliant for him and he adores your obedience, adores the desperate, lustful look in your eyes.

“Shit, girl,” he mumbles, his eyes eating you alive on the spot as he admires your body. You’re so small in comparison to the way his figure looms over you.

Catching your gaze, he squeezes one of your breasts, slipping the other from the fabric of your lace bra to press the warm flat of his tongue to your nipple. You jolt as pleasure buzzes through your body, moaning when he sucks the hardened bud between his lips. The cool metal of his piercing intensifies the pleasure when it grazes your skin and causes goosebumps to raise on your arms.

Your hands find his hair, tugging enough that Sukuna smirks against the plush of your skin.

“So needy,” he hums. Your thighs clench around his waist as the vibration of his voice against your skin rocks through you.

Your lidded eyes stare down at him and you take the opportunity to tug his shirt off. He complies, tossing it across the room. His heavily tattooed chest, abdomen, arms- he’s gorgeous and you can barely believe he’s standing over you right now, eyes for only you.

“Kuna,” you mumble between moans, jerking as he flicks your nipple with a smug grin.

He mutters out a ‘what’ before sinking his teeth into your breast. You gasp, eyes widening and bucking your hips against him as your head swings back into the mattress. As you arch your back for him, Sukuna deftly slips your bra off.

“Stop being a tease,” you plead, the hard length of his cock twitching against your core as you tighten your legs.

“A tease? What do you want then, hm?” His voice is cocky, knowing. He wants you on your knees begging.

“Kunaaaa,” you groan, laying the back of your arm across your eyes, suddenly timid.

Sukuna clicks his tongue, pulling your arm away from your face. He grabs your other arm and holds them both down above you with one large hand. “What do you want, brat?” His face is inches away from yours now and he rolls his hips against your core teasingly despite the ache he feels.

“I-” you pant, pausing to look at his intense stare. “Wan’ you to eat me out.”

“Yeah?” He hums, lowering his head so that his lips brush yours. “Thought you had manners?”

“Please, Kuna,” you beg in a whiny voice. Sukuna smirks, getting to his knees at the edge of the bed and draping his arm over your hips to hold them down as he sprawls your legs out before him.

“Fuckin’ soaked for me,” he groans, his breath warm against the fabric of your panties. He wastes no time hooking his fingers through the fabric to pull them aside. His digits brush your folds as you buck your hips in a desperate attempt at friction.

Chuckling softly, Sukuna languidly licks up your cunt, savoring your taste with the slow movement. You squirm beneath him, raking your fingers through his hair as you try to buck your hips towards his tongue.

“Patience,” Sukuna hums and flicks his tongue out to circle your clit. His piercing grazes the sensitive bundle of nerves and your eyes go wide with pleasure.

“Such a- hah- asshole- ah-!” Sukuna doesn’t give you the satisfaction of teasing him as he pushes his long tongue into your dripping chasm, your walls clenching around the muscle in ecstasy.

Sukuna groans as your fingers tug his hair. He lets you buck your hips into his mouth and ride his face, relishing in the sound of your moans and pants.

The feeling of his tongue inside you is already so intense that when he brings a thumb up to flick your clit, the sudden desire that pulses through your body straight to the knot tightening in your core has you bucking your hips in surprise. His grip on your hips fastens as he holds you down again, keeping you from squirming out of his grasp.

The desire and heat pooling in your core quickly grow in intensity as Sukuna’s experienced tongue plunges through your folds, drinking up your arousal.

“K-Kuna- I- I’m gonna-” your words are mere babbles as you try to speak through the bliss, your orgasm steadily approaching.

“Let me taste it, princess.”

The feeling of his voice with his tongue within you, the way his piercing suddenly flicks your gummy walls, his thumb on your clit, the way he calls you princess, it’s so much that your orgasm crashes over you in a wave, causing your body to jolt and jerk against the mattress.

Sukuna’s thumb leaves your clit as he holds down one of your thighs to keep you from crushing his head as you moan and pant out his name while your body spasms. He slows his ministrations to drink every last drop of your orgasm before flicking your clit with his tongue one last time, pleased when you jolt.

He pushes himself up, wiping your slick from his chin with the back of his hand.

“Shit, you’re hot,” he mutters. You barely have a moment to come down from your high before he’s pulling you to the floor by your waist, dropping you on your knees. His hungry expression and throbbing cock tell you everything you need to know as you look up at him through your lashes.

Your fingers curl around the waist of his boxers as you pull them down his thighs. His rock-hard erection slaps against his abs as you free it from the confines of the fabric. Sure, Sukuna is a monster of a man at nearly seven feet tall of solid muscle mass and you’d felt him grinding against you, but your eyes still widen at the sight of his cock.

You feel your mouth water as you stare at the angry red tip, veins protruding and pulsing with desire on either side.

“Think you can take it?” He asks and although it’s a teasing and husky tone he uses with you, he is genuinely asking as well. You nod eagerly and he grins. “Good girl,” he purrs.

Bringing a hand up to his cock, you wrap your fingers daintily around the thick base, looking up at those glimmering vermillion eyes as you run your tongue from base to tip, eliciting a heavy groan from the man.

“Christ,” he groans, his head flying back in pleasure. You smirk and take the tip of his cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue over the leaking slit before teasingly pulling back with a pop!

His hips shudder as he does everything in his power to stop himself from using your mouth, to stop himself from shoving his cock down your throat with no warning.

“Needy, Ryo?”

You don’t expect the way that sets him off, lights his desire ablaze anew as he fists your hair and leans down with a clenched jaw to look you in the eyes.

You whimper in surprise, closing your thighs from where you sit on your knees as your cunt pulses from the way he handles you so roughly.

“Let’s get it straight right now which of us is needy,” he growls with a smirk, eyeing the way you shift your thighs. “You gonna be a good little slut for me?”

You nod up at him, pupils dilating as he tugs your hair. He grins, narrowing his eyes. “Words, woman.”

“Yes, Kuna,” you purr back at him. The wild look in his eyes intensifies as he receives your consent and pushes the tip of his cock past your lips. His jaw goes slack in pleasure as you swirl your tongue around the head, lapping up his precum.

“Shit,” he groans out, watching as you take his cock without breaking eye contact while he thrusts further into your mouth. You gag when he reaches the back of your throat, tears pricking in the corners of your eyes and you shut them as you take his length. “Ah ah, look at me. Takin’ me so well.”

Sukuna knows you can’t take his entire cock in your mouth, he knows there’s a fairly large size difference between the both of you. It doesn’t stop the way he pushes your head down on his cock watching the way tears run down your cheeks as you so obediently let him handle you.

Saliva runs down the length of his cock and you bring a hand up to the base, pumping what you can’t fit in your throat. His hand pulls your mouth off his cock, adjusting his hand to hold your head back against the bed so that he can relentlessly fuck into you, massive cock hitting the back of your throat and gagging you with each thrust.

He throws his head back as you pump the base of his shaft while he fucks you, being his perfect little doll. His abs flex and twitch when your muscles tense as you swallow around him.

“Such a nasty fuckin’ throat.” He barely gives you any time to breathe as his pace increases, along with the pace of your hand to match. His chest heaves as he moans, letting you dig your nails into his thigh for purchase while he uses your throat.

His cock twitches as you moan when he hits the back of your throat and his eyes shut tight with pleasure, jaw going slack. When he jolts again with the next thrust, you know he’s close so you hum contentedly, sending vibrations up his shaft and causing his hips to jerk erratically as he chases his high.

“F-fuck,” he groans out before his hips stutter and your eyes widen when his cum unloads down your throat, thick ropes of salty sweet arousal swallowed as he keeps himself warm within your mouth. You move your lips slowly around his girth, milking every last drop of his orgasm. You pull back after a moment to allow yourself a chance to breathe, panting as you stare up at him.

His chest heaves and his cock twitches every few seconds, telling of the orgasm he’s just had. Still, his eyes burn with desire when he finally opens them.

He reaches down to pick you up and sets you at the edge of the bed on all fours roughly.

He squeezes your ass before slapping it once. Your body jolts in surprise as you gasp.

“Princess, you on any birth control?”

“Mhmm, you can go raw.”

You hear him mumble a curse beneath his breath. “You tell me if it’s too much,” he tells you, catching the way you glance over your shoulder at him and nod.

In spite of the rough way he uses and handles you, he’s still very attentive to your pleasure and comfort.

He pays no mind to the fact that you actually liked the panties you’re wearing as he physically tears them off of your body, tossing the ripped fabric aside. You whine in complaint, shooting him a look from over your shoulder.

“I’ll buy ya new ones,” he huffs, returning his attention to your body.

Squeezing your ass in both palms, he leans down and buries his face in your pussy, licking a stripe from your clit to your dripping entrance. He hums at how wet you still are, moving a hand up your spine to hold you down and keep you arched for him.

His teeth sink into the plump of your ass and you squeak at the sudden burst of pain that quickly twists to pleasure when he soothingly laps over the mark he’s left.

He slides his hand down from squeezing your plump ass to glide a finger through your lubricated folds. You lean into his touch, gasping when he suddenly plunges one long finger into your lubricated pussy.

Your walls are tight as they pulse around his long finger. He eases another digit in, pumping them slowly as he realizes just how tight you are.

“Relax, darlin’,” he hums soothingly, curling his fingers against your walls a couple of times before he finds your g spot. His voice is such a stark contrast to his rough tendencies, but it’s soothing to have him so worried for your comfort.

“Ryo, f-fuck-” you moan out as his fingers languidly curl against your gummy walls which gradually relax against his long fingers. With a couple more pumps of his fingers, he pulls them out, leaving you pulsing around nothing and craving his touch as you shift your hips in search of friction with a whine.

Sukuna grunts when he lines himself up with your plump cunt, pumping himself a couple of times before he slowly eases his tip into you. Your eyes widen at the delicious burn of the stretch, fingers curling in the sheets as you adjust to his massive size. And god this is only the tip.

You cry out, the feeling of his girthy cock filling you up blurring your vision as the pain transitions to pleasure before the process begins all over again with each movement he makes. His cock throbs, making you feel impossibly full.

Sukuna wants to ruin you, he wants to tear you apart on his cock, but he doesn’t want to hurt his sweet little best friend, so he watches the way your face contorts in mild pain, waiting for your expression to relax as he slowly feeds you his cock, inch by inch.

“Doin’ so good for me, darlin’,” Sukuna purrs, his thumb stroking your back in contrast to the fact that he’s still holding you down and keeping you arched for him.

His cock head brushes your cervix, pressing against it as he bottoms out, fingers curling against your back at how tight you’re squeezing him as he waits for you to adjust.

Your shoulders relax beneath his touch and you whimper as he slides his cock out to the tip, setting a moderate pace so as not to shock you. The feeling of his thick, veiny cock is like nothing you’ve ever experienced, his size just so much to take that you moan and whine with each thrust of his cock into your tight hole.

You grip at the sheets beneath you, gasping as Sukuna speeds up his thrusts and presses you hard into the mattress, muffling your moans.

“Kuna- mmph,” you let out a muffled whimper, jolting when he slaps your ass roughly, no longer holding back.

“F-fuckin’- shit-” he groans, his fingers gripping your skin bruisingly as he holds you in place. He leans forward, sliding his hand from your back to your neck, restricting your airflow subtly. Pleasure tears through your spine as he leans forward and pushes in deeper with each thrust, pulling moans and screams of his name from deep in your throat.

“K-Kuna, I’m- hah- close,” you whimper, words muffled by the sheets beneath you. He loosens his fingers from your neck, grabbing your waist with both hands as he pulls your ass closer to him, pounding into you faster as he chases his own high.

“Shit, y’r such a good lil slut for me,” he groans, feeling your walls tighten around his thick length with each thrust.

Pleasure tightens deep within your core, knotting and curling as he fucks you so deliciously that your juices are already dripping from your cunt around his hilt. His eyes lock on the sight and he throws his head back in pleasure, his own high not far behind.

With one last hit against your cervix, your orgasm hits you like a goddamn truck, like nothing you’ve ever experienced before as your entire body shakes and jolts, your knees and legs giving out.

If Sukuna wasn’t holding you up, you surely would have collapsed as stars cloud your vision and you moan his name like a mantra. Your eyes are glossy and your mind delirious as he continues to fuck you through your high, your walls milking him in a way that has him quickly climbing towards his release.

With only a few more erratic thrusts that have you whining under him in overstimulation, his cock twitches suddenly as his entire load fills you up, mixing with your juices and dripping out of your swollen lips down your thighs that Sukuna is still holding up.

He moans as he slowly lets your body go and you sink to the mattress, panting beneath him as his cock slips from between your thighs. His eyes flicker to your pretty pussy, his cum leaking out with each pulse of your walls. His chest heaves as well as he slowly gets to his feet and walks to the side of the bed, sliding up against the headboard.

Sukuna pulls your body up from where you’ve collapsed, wrapping his arms around you as his sweat-slicked skin sticks to yours. He’s much gentler now, looking you over for any signs that he might have hurt you accidentally, but when you finally open your eyes, they’re glossy with pleasure and filled with adoration.

He can’t help the way he genuinely smiles, not a common thing for the tepid biker, but when you grin and giggle in return, it makes his heart jump.

He practically turns to putty in your hands and as you silently bask in the afterglow of the best sex of your life and lean into Sukuna’s embrace.

“Wasn’t too rough with you, was I?” He asks after a moment and you’re surprised by the way his fingers softly graze your skin.

“You were great Kuna, don’t worry,” you answer, yawning afterwards.

He hums in relief, leaning his head back for a moment before taking it upon himself to get you cleaned up before you pass out. Grabbing a towel, he wipes your thighs and tosses the towel in a hamper at the edge of the room before pulling the covers over your figure and crawling in behind you.

“Ryo?”

Sukuna hums quizzically.

“Do I get to know how long now?”

“You’re a brat,” he growls in your ear as he pulls you flush against his chest, his arms folded around your middle.

“Yeah yeah, just answer the question,” you grouse, rolling your eyes. You have an inkling of a feeling that you know when he realized his feelings for you, but you’re curious nonetheless.

He sighs, knowing you’ll never let him live this down. “Dunno. It’s been a while,” he avoids the question.

You flip in his arms to face him with raised brows. He groans, avoiding your gaze.

“I guess around the time you got with your ex,” he admits, his eyes locked on the wall behind you as he tucks your head under his chin to avoid your intent gaze.

“Is that why you stopped seeing people?”

“You noticed?”

“Kuna, you had a new girl under your arm every time I saw you for a while.”

He grunts, pulling you tighter to his body.

Giggling, you kiss his collar bone. “That’s sweet.”

Sukuna’s chest rises and falls heavily as he lets out a long sigh. You can practically feel the way his cheeks are heating up as you tease him, something that you’d only managed a handful of times in all the years you’ve known him.

“Sorry, am I embarrassing the big bad motorcycling bad boy?” You push, squeaking in protest as Sukuna wastes no time in shoving you away from him in an attempt to push you off the bed. “Wait, wait, wait! I’m sorry!” You insist, looking to him for mercy as you cling to his arms, clutching desperately at the flexed muscles.

“And?”

“And…” you search for the words he’s looking to hear in his eyes, gripping his arms tighter. “I won’t do it again?”

“And?”

“I’m sorry I ate the rest of your leftovers this morning?”

His brow furrows. Oh shit.

“I mean… no I didn’t. They’re still there,” you mumble, avoiding his judgemental gaze guiltily.

Sukuna’s hold on your shoulder begins to lax as you teeter at the edge of the bed, threatening to drop you to the floor. You scramble to try to grip him tighter.

“I’ll buy you new food!”

Sukuna sighs and drags you back to him. You let out a relieved puff of air against his chest, snuggling back into his warmth. “Jus’ wanted you to say when it was for you.”

You tilt your head up at him, only able to see his chin. “When what was?”

“You know. When you realized what you think of me or whatever.” Sukuna’s gruff tone is telling that he isn’t used to such sincere conversations. Although you’ve known him a long time and he’d told you about damn near every sexual encounter he’s had, Sukuna’s most record-breaking relationship was a shocking three months.

Of course, Sukuna isn’t a romantic, and she didn’t know him well enough to know that he was putting in effort, so it didn’t last long.

“Oh. When I realized I like you?”

He grunts.

You hum in thought, moments throughout your friendship scrolling through your mind like a slideshow.

Of course, your forefront thought is when Sukuna first stepped off that stupidly well taken care of Ducati and surprised you when he managed to not only get you home on a running bike, but let you buy him a drink. He’s always been ridiculously attractive, but no, those weren’t feelings.

You think of all the times you hung out with friends and they would point out his change in behavior. You’d always think on the statement, watch the way that aloof look of his turns mild when he faces you, but you didn’t want to think about it too much.

You ponder on the time you’d called him on a whim early in your friendship when your date had bailed on you. Sukuna did not want to see the cheesy romance movie you had tickets for, but he’d sucked it up and shown up. You’d offered to buy him dinner as a thank you, but he paid regardless. It was the kind of thing a real date would do, but he’d complained so much you brushed the thought away.

When you were entirely too obsessed with Game of Thrones and insisted he be your king in a big fur cloak for Halloween, maybe then something had changed.

“You want me to be some guy from the show you like?” He’d grumbled and guffawed over having to dress up at all, insisting he’d been planning to put in minimal effort.

“Pleaaase, Kuna?” You were practically on your knees by the time he’d agreed with a roll of his eyes. “You’d make a good Robb Stark,” you insist before second-guessing yourself. “Well, if he was grumpy and kind of a dick.” You shrug, grinning up at him as he shoots you a begrudging look through narrowed eyes.

It only takes you a few days to put together the costume given the abundance of medieval king and knight costumes around.

His arms cross over his rugged chest, the fabric of his shirt pulled taut by the movement. “You can’t be serious.” He stares at the tight faux leather coat you hand him with a scowl.

“He wears something similar!”

“I’m not wearing this.”

“Please, you said you would!” You pout at him as you sport your best puppy dog eyes.

“No.”

You jut your bottom lip out, taking a step towards him as you shove the leather top to his chest. His eyes narrow, gears turning in his head until he shuts his eyes, giving in.

Your eyes light up as he pulls the top from you, groaning as he pulls it on over his shirt. It’s tight on him, which you expected given Sukuna’s sheer size, but it’s a strangely hot look on your rugged best friend. Even more so when he lets you drape the cape over his shoulders and set a cute little crown on his head.

“No, absolutely not,” he hisses, slapping your hand away when you try to clip the crown in place with a bobby pin.

“You’re such a pain,” you tease as you try again, holding an extra pin between your teeth.

Standing back, you admire your work as you receive a very unamused look in return. Sukuna’s build makes for a very kingly stature in spite of the contrasting tattoos and it makes him hot. In fact, you’re half afraid someone will whisk him away at the Halloween party given how nicely he’s cleaned up.

Your lips twitch downwards at the thought. You don’t want him to be whisked away. You want your king by your side.

“So?”

Snapping you from your thoughts, your eyes light up again. “You look great,” you tell him with a grin. His eyes flicker with something you don’t recognize.

He hums, examining your expression. “Well, go get ready then. Gonna sweat through all this leather n’ shit.”

“Oh like you aren’t used to leather,” you roll your eyes, but you oblige, getting your matching Talisa Stark outfit on.

When you return to Sukuna sitting on his couch, you muster your best impression of your character. “My king?”

Your best friend’s attention turns to you, eyes widening as you approach him in a floor-length queen’s gown with a matching gray cloak and a crown pinned into your hair. “Shit, y’ look good,” he breathes out.

Your cheeks heat up and you scratch at the back of your neck. “Thanks, Kuna.” You clear your throat and your mind to the best of your ability as you offer him a hand. “Ready?”

He hums, taking your hand before grabbing his keys and offering you his arm. “My queen?”

You’d be lying if you said that wasn’t the first spark. The first real spark. As he loosened up throughout the night and repetitively called you his princess, you knew you were spent. Each and every time he used the name had you giggling up a storm and while you’d brushed it off as intoxication at the time, you knew the truth deep down.

So when he’d returned to his aloof self the following morning, you swallowed down your feelings.

You couldn’t bear the thought of losing your best friend and he didn’t have a good track record with relationships. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t scared, even now.

“Halloween,” you utter finally, unsure of just how long you’ve been silently contemplating an answer in his arms.

“Figures,” his chest rumbles in brief laughter.

“You knew?”

“Nah, thought it was the alcohol.”

“Yeah, I thought so too. That’s why I started dating other people.”

Sukuna doesn’t respond but he buries his face into the crown of your head, drinking in your warmth, your intoxicating scent, and your soft skin against his as he closes his eyes.

No more other people, you’re his.

“Was it me callin’ you my princess?” He asks of the night you realized you’d caught feelings.

“That, and you make a good Robb Stark.”

He snorts. “I remember being told I was a dick.”

You shrug, smiling against the warm skin of his chest. “I don’t retract that statement.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head and warmth spreads through your body as you relax against him, eyes closing as exhaustion spreads across you like a warm blanket. You know the kiss is a sassy retort, but it shamelessly works on you.

“Fine. I retract my statement.”

“That’s my princess.”

–

“Can you stop moving so much?”

Unsurprisingly, Sukuna’s got an attitude today and he absolutely plans on making it your problem as he huffs.

Your gloved hands work carefully to thoroughly cover every last strand of his short hair with dye. You know very well the only reason he’s being such a menace today is because you’d suggested a change in color and he’s afraid it’ll look bad.

In all your years of knowing him, he’s always had the same pink hair, so you were thrilled he was allowing you the honor of dying it back to its original color, black. You’d actually insisted on orange or red, but black was the only thing he was willing to compromise on.

You make your way back around him and find his scowling face looking up at you. Covering the last few strands of hair over his forehead, you boldly sit on his lap.

His demeanor changes in an instant as you straddle him and his hands eagerly find your hips and begin roaming up your waist and back down to your thighs. You shoot him a warning glance as you accidentally smudge some black dye on his forehead, but he pays you no mind as he continues his ministrations.

“Kuna,” you warn sternly, trying to wipe off the black marking before it leaves a stain, but it’s too late. You sigh and look over your work.

“Just a quickie, c’mon,” he insists with a grin.

“I don’t want to be covered in black dye,” you retort and Sukuna groans, throwing his head back dramatically. “How long do I gotta wait?”

“Thirty minutes.”

He frowns, eyes following your movements as you pull off your gloves and throw them in the trash of your shared apartment. He can’t for the life of him tear his eyes from you as you proceed to wash your hands before grabbing a damp towelette to wipe at his forehead.

Suddenly feeling like a child as you take care of the marking on his forehead, he swats at your hand.

“You’re a menace,” you mutter, avoiding his hand with practiced precision as you wipe away any traces of hair dye from his face.

He smirks, he likes the way you tease him and if anything it only makes him want to bend you over the table more.

Still, when you pull back to inspect his face and leave a gentle peck on his lips, he knows you don’t mind his attitude.

You know it’s all a ruse of sorts. Not around others, but around you it is.

Dating him for so many years came with its fair share of complications, especially given that Sukuna’s communication skills were about as good as those of a rock. He often didn’t pick up on small signs that you were bothered by things and vice versa, as he’s a tough book to read.

Regardless of any small arguments, nothing ever got out of hand surprisingly. You can’t imagine your life if Sukuna hadn’t shown up to get you the night your ex kicked you out. What Sukuna lacked in the department of emotional understanding, he made up for with his actions.

Although he very rarely says it, you know Sukuna loves you.

Each and every ‘I love you’ is met with a kiss, a squeeze of your arm, a tug towards him.

Sukuna has his own way of showing you he loves you.

He picks you up from work with flowers, shocking those around you when the grumpy-looking tattooed man hands you flowers that surely won’t make it home in great condition on his bike, but it doesn’t matter.

He runs you a bath when he fucks you into oblivion and your legs give out. It may be his own hand that inflicted your weakness, but it doesn’t matter because he shows you just how much he cares for you through his aftercare routine.

He makes your coffee with far too much milk and sugar for his own taste and complains about it the whole time, but it doesn’t matter because he still does it every morning for you.

Sukuna loves you, and he knows that you’re aware of it.

When it comes time to wash his hair, he closes his eyes when you help him wash it in the sink. Your fingers move so delicately, taking care to wash out all the dye.

When he dries his hair with a towel and sees the way you delight at the sight of his freshly jet-black hair, he chuckles.

“Why do you never grow your hair out?” You ask, running your hands through his spiked hair. The color suits him and brings out his eyes in the most stunning way, you’re sure you have stars in your eyes from the way you’re staring at him.

“Dunno. The other color looks good,” he shrugs.

“It does!” You agree with a grin, “but so does this!” You insist. “It’s hot.”

He hums, looking himself over in the mirror. In truth, he doesn’t mind it. He only really indulged you because you’d insisted, but it worked out given what he had in mind for the night. It would look good in photos.

“When is Shiu getting here?” You ask curiously, interrupting Sukuna’s thoughts as your short arms wrap around his middle from behind.

“Hour from now.”

You gasp suddenly. “I need to clean up.”

“I can clean you up,” Sukuna smirks, lifting his arms in an attempt to see your face from where you stand behind him.

“Kunaaa,” you whine. “I need time to get ready.”

He groans dramatically. “Fine,” he grumbles, watching as you prance away happily to get ready.

You, Sukuna, Choso, Toji, Shiu, and Uraume were all going out in celebration of Toji’s newest addition to his family, a young boy. It was surprising that he was the first to settle down, but when you’d met his wife, you could see that she was his world, the way he relaxed at her touch and his own edge calmed in the same way Sukuna’s does around you.

Sukuna lays on his bed, watching as you choose a gorgeous black dress that hugs your curves so delectably that he wants to tear it off of you then and there. The whole time, he fumbles with something in his pocket, grateful when you don’t notice the small box accidentally fall from his grasp and onto the bed.

You chat with him about your work the whole time. Sukuna’s mind is elsewhere but given that he’s never all that chatty, you don’t notice. Looking yourself over in the mirror, you let out a relieved breath when you manage to be ready with only a couple of minutes to spare.

“Y’ look gorgeous.” Sultry words are whispered in your ear, followed up by a kiss to your neck as your boyfriend comes up behind you. His hands rest softly on your waist as he rests his chin on your shoulder, bending down to your height.

You watch his actions from the mirror, the way his lidded eyes look over the curves of your figure, the way he slides his arms so delicately around your middle to envelop you in a tight hug, it’s these moments that you treasure the most.

The quiet moments where you simply enjoy one another’s presence.

Your lives are so busy that you don’t always get time to yourselves, so melting into his arms in that moment, you wish it would last forever.

Of course forever is a long time, and Shiu certainly doesn’t have the patience to wait in his car that long for you both. You’re not entirely sure why Sukuna doesn’t want to take your bikes, but you don’t push the subject. Your boyfriend’s mind is a mysterious place.

Your group gathers at a restaurant that’s a bit fancy for everyone’s tastes, but Uraume had insisted on it given the occasion. The real surprise was that Sukuna had dressed up a bit as well, sporting a sleek black pair of slacks, a black long sleeve button-up, and a red tie. His ensemble went well with your black dress.

Over the years, Sukuna’s friends had become your friends, long before you started dating, even.

Choso and Yuji were like your little brothers, and Uraume and Toji your closest drinking buddies. They got along surprisingly well with your friends too, especially Choso and Yuji who, unlike Sukuna, seemed to have a talent for getting along with everyone. Shiu generally only tagged along when Toji was around, but their banter was always welcome.

As Toji shows off photos of his son Megumi alongside his daughter Tsumiki, you notice Sukuna whispering something to Choso, casting oddly uneasy glances in your direction. Frowning, you glance over yourself once as though there’s something wrong with your outfit. No… it looks fine. So what’s Sukuna being so secretive about?

You brush it off as nothing, sure you’re overthinking things… until he pulls Toji aside after the man finishes showing off photos of his son.

You tilt your head quizzically to Uraume as you lean over towards them, ensuring Sukuna can’t hear you.

“Is Kuna acting weird to you?”

“Yes,” Uraume follows your gaze, narrowing their eyes. “Perhaps he misses Toji?”

“Are we talking about the same person?” A small smirk quirks up the corners of your lips.

Uraume laughs lightly with you. “You’re right,” they agree, but the thought doesn’t leave your mind.

It’s not like Sukuna doesn’t have off days like everyone else, but this is a strange change of demeanor for him. He seems strangely fidgety, as though he can’t sit still. His leg had bounced under the table throughout most of dinner and he was strangely eager to get the bill.

He had been horny all day, the best guess you have is that maybe it’s that and he wants to get home.

Still, it doesn’t explain him being so secretive throughout the night. In fact, he’d barely spoken a lick to you. Which isn’t entirely uncommon, but in place of words he would normally find comfort in your touch. Yet tonight it felt as though you’d hardly seen him despite sitting next to him most of the night.

You resort to asking him about it later, though an uneasy feeling tugs at you the more you notice it.

You’re almost grateful the dinner is over when it is as you intertwine your fingers with Sukuna like nothing is wrong. Shiu leads the way across the expanse of grass by the restaurant to his car one lot over, chatting with Toji as you and your boyfriend trail behind.

With Choso and Uraume a short distance behind you, you figure now is as good of a time to ask as any.

“Is everything alright, baby?” You tilt your head to look at your boyfriend.

Something glimmers in his eyes, an emotion you don’t recognize. That’s odd.

“‘Course.”

Well, that’s not reassuring.

“Okay… Nothing’s wrong?”

He shoots you a small smirk, kissing the top of your head.

“Nothin’s wrong, princess. Don’t worry your pretty little head.”

You sigh, unable to help the feeling that he has something up his sleeve, but also able to recognize that whatever he’s plotting, he clearly has no intention of telling you. Regardless, you’re relieved that his nonchalant attitude seems to have returned. Maybe it’s nothing to worry about after all.

You miss the way he glances between the two groups, nodding to both as you sigh and give in.

“Alright, Kuna. I love you.”

Sukuna stops to face you and you blink at him perplexedly. Time seems to stand still as his chest rises and falls so quickly, he’s sure you can hear his heart beating out of his chest as he fumbles in his pocket for a moment.

You open your mouth to question him but your words die on your tongue when your boyfriend swallows hard before making a quick movement down onto one knee and your eyes go wide, your heart pounding in tandem with his.

It’s just the two of you in that moment, all sounds drowned out by beating hearts, lights and movement a blur behind you both. Everything is just Sukuna. Just you.

“Y/n,” he begins hoarsely. His voice shakes slightly and he curses himself for it but he doesn’t dare look away from your gorgeous wide eyes.

Your lips part, a lump forming in your throat. It feels as though it could choke you and you swallow hard but it only seems to encourage the tears you had yet to notice welling in your eyes.

“I had this whole speech planned,” he chuckles breathlessly. “Practiced n’ everything.”

You nod slowly, your hands trembling as you bring one up to your mouth to suppress your shock and awe when he pulls out a small red velvet box.

“But I don’t think that shit's for me. So I decided to keep it simple.”

Nestled delicately within the box is a gorgeous silver ring with a beautiful diamond held delicately in the center. The ring splits into three separate parts just before the gem that all twist with smaller jewels around the metal.

“Marry me?”

Although he very rarely says it, you know Sukuna loves you.

From the way he holds you to the way he listens and kisses you between words. From the way he brings you lunch at work when you forget to the way he drives more carefully when you’re cuddled behind him on his bike.

Sukuna loves you, and he knows that you’re aware of it.

And you love him too.

“Yes!”

masterlist || husband!sukuna headcanons & more || husband!sukuna smut oneshot

a/n ; please follow/like/reblog/share if you enjoyed ♡

[dreamescapeswriting]

Blooms Of Serenity ~ BC

WORD COUNT: 1.7K

GENRE: comfort fic, chan being very sweet and comforting toward a reader who has had a hard time with their anxiety/panic attacks lately, cute boyfriend chan, NON IDOLVERSE, established relationships

PAIRING: Chan x Fem!Reader

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - February 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

Sliding out of the seat carefully you held your hand out to Chan who was still refusing to let you take off the blindfold he'd put on you about an hour ago. Part of you was a little sad he'd refused to let you see, you loved going on night drives with Chan since you'd spend all of your time looking up at the stars that were scattered across the sky it was one of your favourite things to do.

"Are you going to pout all night?" Chan whispers in your ear, his breath catching on your skin making your whole body shiver. 

"No, but I'll stop sooner if you let me see," You giggle trying to tempt him but it wasn't going to, Chan had been working on this surprise all week long and he wasn't going to ruin it now. 

In the heart of a packed city, where life echoed everywhere and it didn't matter how far you went you'd still hear the sounds of car horns or people yelling there existed a small haven of tranquillity known as the Serenity Garden. After extensive googling, Chan had managed to find the little slice of heaven for you.

Its charm lay not only in its lush greenery and vibrant blooms of flowers but also in its ability to soothe troubled souls. And it was here that Chan decided to bring you.

The gardens were said to be completely silent, breaking away from the hustle and bustle of life which was exactly what you needed right now.

As Chan stepped into the garden, the air seemed to change, becoming lighter, and more fragrant and turned his attention to you, his hands shakily taking off the blindfold as he studied your reactions. As soon as the blindfold was off and your eyes had adjusted to the light your once tense shoulders relaxed slightly as you took in the sight of the colourful flowers swaying gently in the breeze. The place looked like something straight out of a fantasy romance book.

"Chan...Where did you even find this?" Your voice barely came out as a whisper as you walked further into the gardens, being careful of the flowers as you strolled.

"I'll never reveal my secrets,  Google did play a huge part," He winks at you playfully as he smiles to himself. He was pretty proud of his find and happy with himself that it seemed to ease you, even if just for a little while.  

Your eyes were still busy trying to take everything in, the garden stretched out like a patchwork quilt, with winding pathways meandering through lush greenery and colourful blooms. Huge trees provided perfect picnic spaces underneath them.

"This place is...beautiful," Your voice cracked a little as you turned to look back at Chan, who had a giant grin on his face.

"You needed time away from everything, so I found a small home away from home," He smiled, taking your hand in his and kissing it softly before making his way through the garden with you.

Every corner of the garden held its own enchantment, there were clusters of roses in shades of pink and red, and beds of vibrant tulips that swayed gracefully in the night breeze. There were even patches of wildflowers dotted around the landscape, something you truly never thought you'd see in person. 

"This is like something from a book," You whispered to Chan, somehow it felt wrong if you were to speak too loudly, like somehow you would disturb the peace that was around.

"I knew you'd love it," He chuckled softly, taking you toward the centre of the garden where a majestic water fountain was sat. It was a marble basin adorned with intricate carvings that all depicted mythical creatures and flowing vines. The water trickled from the spouts filling the night air with the sound of cascading water.

"I love it and you," You told him as he carefully sat down on a brick bench that was sat in front of the fountain. 

"I love you too, this is your sanctuary," He told you as you carefully sat down beside him, smiling and letting out a sigh of relief as you just let the world be.

Sitting there amidst the blooms, you felt a sense of peace wash over you, a welcome respite from the storm raging within your mind. But even in this serene setting, the echoes of your anxiety lingered, threatening to pull you back into its grasp.

As if he could sense your distress Chan wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer to him.

"I'm here, Yn," He whispered softly, his voice soothing your frazzled nerves as if like magic,

"You're not alone." You leaned into his embrace, finding solace in his presence, something you'd always managed to do with your boyfriend. There was something about him you couldn't quite explain, something you never thought could be possible but he calmed you.

He made you feel safe and secure whenever you were together, safe enough to let your mind go blank as you just relaxed against him. Sleeping next to someone had never been easy for you before but with Chan you always found yourself able to fall asleep with ease and even sleep through the night. Your body trusted him.

"Just close your eyes and let it be," Chan whispered, you closed her eyes, letting the sound of the water fountain and the sweet scent of flowers envelop you like a protective cocoon, Chan's strong arms around you helping all the more. With each breath, you felt the tight knot of anxiety within your chest slowly begin to unravel.

"Listen to the leaves." He said, his breath warm against your ear as you kept your eyes closed.

"Each one carries a message of hope, reminding us that even in the darkest of times, light is always there to be found." Chan pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, his hands gently running up and down your arms as you felt a lump in your throat beginning to form.

"You're stronger than you realised, Yn." He continued, his voice filling you with hope and confidence.

"You've faced so many challenges before and you've emerged stronger every single time...You have the courage and the resilience to overcome this..." He stilled his hands before moving closer to your ear,

"I believe in you," He whispered as your tears began to flow, you turned to bury your face in Chan's chest and he smiled weakly.

"I know it's hard," He told you as his arms tightened around you.

"But you're not and never will be alone in this. I'm here for you, every step of the way." He tells you as you snuggled closer to him.

"We'll face this together and we'll be stronger on the other side." He promised you, and you knew you could believe him, you just knew.

As you sat there, wrapped in each other's arms, you felt a flicker of hope ignite within you, a beacon of light in the darkness you'd been consumed in for days. With Chan by your side, you knew that you could weather any storm, and conquer any fear. Together you'd be able to emerge from anything victious.

"Thank you, Chan...for everything," You sniffled a little and Chan smiled using his hands to gently swipe away the tears that had fallen.

"You never have to thank me for something like this, I just want you to come to me in the future." He told you as you nodded, cuddling into him and smiling warmly.

After a few hours of sitting there, enjoying the night sky and the sounds of water you knew it was time to head home but there was something different. It felt as though there was a renewed sense of purpose coursing through your veins. You knew that the road ahead would be filled with challenges, but you also knew that with Chan by your side, you were going to be able to face anything that came your way.

In the days that followed your visit to the  Garden, you found yourself leaning on Chan more than ever, which he was adoring every second of. All he ever wanted was to be there for you, it was part of being a boyfriend he was supposed to be there to support you in times of hardship. He became your rock, your steady anchor in the tumultuous sea of emotions. With his unwavering support, you began to face her anxiety head-on, armed with newfound courage and determination.

The two of you had developed different coping mechanisms that would help you out whenever your mind would become stormy. You took walks to the park almost every other night, leaving your phones at home and just walking hand in hand, breathing in the crisp air as you tried to let things go. Throughout every single part of it, Chan had been there, a constant source of love and encouragement, never once letting you go through any of it alone just as he had promised.

Through everything, Serenity Garden was your sanctuary, a place of refuge and where Chan would take you when everything would get too much again. You both returned to it often, seeking solace amidst the flowers and fountains and every time you came back you felt a little lighter as if the weight of the world was lifted from your shoulders, even for a short time. The two of you were back again tonight, cuddled together on the brick bench, surrounded by the gentle melody of the water fountain and the fragrant embrace of the flowers. Chan had his arms around you, pulling you close to him as his arms were a comforting shield around you.

"I love you, Yn," He whispered, his voice soft but fulled of unwavering sincerity. 

"I will always be here for you, through the good times and the bad." Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as you stared up at him, overwhelmed by how much Chan truly meant to you and how deep his love went for you. At that moment, you knew he was absolutely your soulmate, your partner in life's adventures.

"I love you too, Chan." Your voice choked with emotion/

"Thank you for being my rock, for never giving up on me even when I felt like I was giving up on myself." Chan brushed a gentle kiss across your forehead, 

"I'll never give up on you and I'll never let you give up on yourself," He whispered to you, kissing your forehead one last time before you sat there, wrapped in each other's arms, your love burning amidst the tranquil beauty of Serenity Garden and you felt peace completely wash over you.

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[anthonys237thfreckle]

‘Promise’ - Javier ‘Javi’ x Kate Carter & F! reader (angst!)

someone asked for a part two and I realized how good of an idea that was lmao. I need indirect ways to incorporate my past experiences into my fics anyway.

part one

prompt: you made a promise to distance yourself from Javi and Kate

TW: mentions of smoking, some detailed mention of self harm, suicidal thoughts, mentions of nausea, disordered eating, breakdowns, smoking, angst :(

Do NOT proceed if the triggers mentioned above upset you greatly. You have been warned.

I made a promise

To distance myself

Once Tyler dropped you off to the train station, you smiled and waved until you couldn’t see his truck anymore. You wanted to hang onto any last string of familiarity for as long as you could.

Especially since your life would change completely - for better or worse.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment, trying to calm down your trembling body.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

5 things you see - the train station, the crumbling yellow bricks, the jolly red-white-blue american flag, your luggage, and the people. Lots of people.

4 things you hear - the people, obviously, the cicadas crying, the heavy bell ringing inside, the honking of cars for you to get out of their way.

3 things you smell - the heat - somehow, the smell of smoke from cars, and the thick air.

2 things you feel - terrified. hurt.

1 thing you taste - bitterness.

Shaking your head, you take another deep breath. Eyes dead set on the mission in front of you, you marched into the train station, bought a ticket to Oklahoma City, and settled down inside.

But now was the hardest part; waiting. What made it harder was you didn’t want to think about anything that happened yesterday. So, putting your headphones on, you made a playlist with none of the songs that reminded you of Javi or any of the ones he recommended to you. Essentially, you just listened to 3 songs in total, over and over again, but the knowledge you knew what was coming next was comforting, something you couldn’t apply to your current situation.

Took a flight, through aurora skies

Honestly, I didn't think about

How we didn't say goodbye

Just see you very soon

You woke up when the train jolted to a stop - you had fallen asleep, waking up to hear the opening notes of some song you were listening to earlier. Looking out the window, you reached Oklahoma City. With a sigh of relief and trepidation, you got your bags and headed out of the station, hailed a taxi to the airport. Booking a last minute flight back home to LA, you made your way to the gate. Setting your bag down, you sat in a char near the huge windows. Deciding it wasn’t close enough, you sat on the little raised platform attached to the window and leaned your head against it like you saw so many children do.

The boarding call was announced, and everyone sat up groggily. It all went by pretty quickly. Standing in line, getting your boarding pass stamped and your passport checked, finding you seat, putting your bag away and sitting down. Taxi and take off was a blur; luckily you got a window seat, and stared out at the pink clouds, tinted by the setting sun, a peach tone.

Peachy, just like your favourite pie.

You groaned, covering your eyes and rubbing them as your mind started to think about Oklahoma. About Javi, and the last time he saw you. And the last thing he said to you. It wasn’t even a proper goodbye, but you couldn’t blame him because he didn’t know it was goodbye.

And honestly, neither did you.

But you made yourself a promise - to distance yourself.

Those last words of his echoed in your mind.

“I- Okay, alright. Take care, (Y/N)”

It hurts to be something

It's worse to be nothing with you

You half expected a text from Javi - it had been around 24 hours since you last saw him. Since you told him you had a ‘family emergency’ to take care of. Who wouldn’t expect a little ‘you doing okay?’ or ‘safe travels’ when someone saw you break down in the middle of a field, distressed as hell? Sure, you and Javi weren’t dating, sure you both drifted apart ever since Kate got closer with him instead, but were you two not even friends anymore?

Did you mean nothing to him?

This wasn’t the first time he ghosted you - after the EF5 tornado, he didn’t say a word to you. But it was understandable why - everyone was hurting, and maybe he couldn’t bring himself to talk to you. In Oklahoma, the only times he’d talk to you is when you started a conversation, otherwise you could sit silently and he’d happily talk with Kate, leaving you be. It was never him starting anything.

And Kate. Did she figure out you liked Javi? Is that why she didn’t text you? Did she feel guilty? Part of you wanted her to feel guilty, but the other part of you didn’t want to be pitied. Part of you wanted to go back, but this - this was best for you right now. Nobody could tell you otherwise.

Instead, you got a text from Tyler.

‘hey there cowgirl - how you getting along?’

You chuckled - ‘cowgirl’ was probably the worst way to describe yourself. Instead, you typed down a response, your heart a little less heavy.

‘hey, Tyler. thanks for asking. means a lot’

He was typing, the three dots appearing on screen

‘of course. lemme know if you need anything at all okay? stay safe out there’

You sent him an affirmative text, thankful to actually have a friend who cared enough to check in on you, helping you out without questioning anything, having only known you for a week.

So I didn't call you

For sixteen long days

You found comfort in some form of familiarity in your life; back home in LA, everything looked duller, more still. Like the whole world knew about your heartbreak and was mourning, or mocking you. You tried to plunge into work, distracting yourself but sometimes, you’d just stare at your work, screen or paper, and just zone out. Your was brain still trying to process everything, and you were losing a lot over it - sleep, peace, overall joy, your will to wake up, and more.

It felt like after the EF5 tornado but worse because you knew somewhere in Oklahoma, Kate was with Javi, both of them happier than ever. It felt worse because you could never have him anymore. He was gone. And someone got to see him every day, sometimes wake up next to him, sometimes stay up all night with him. You felt like you were gonna be sick.

For a fortnight, all you could eat was cheese, bread, and grapes. It was the only thing you could keep down.

It was so hard not to text Javi. After you had just left, it’s like you were isolated for 5 years, given a taste of him, then forcing yourself to stay away. It was something you chose to do, not something you were forced to live with.

But you won’t call him. No matter how long the days felt they were dragging by.

And I should get a cigarette

For so much restraint

Walking by a drugstore to entertain yourself, you entered the establishment with an electronic ding notifying your presence. Strolling through the ailes, you picked up Sourhead Extremes (so in case you wanted to call Javi, you’d have to go through a gustatory agony first) and some nail polish, just to look pretty. Walking to the cashier, you mindlessly threw in a pack of cigarettes onto the counter, before putting them back in a jerky motion.

“What the hell…” you murmured to yourself, ashamed of what you were about to do. Buy cigarettes - to smoke.

Walking out of the store briskly, you speed-walked home; chiding yourself for almost ‘rewarding’ your no contact mission by smoking, you realized how truly pathetic you were.

“God, what is wrong with me…” you muttered, keeping your head down, watching the wet streets reflect the light of the sun and your dark sorrow.

No matter how long I resist temptation

I will always lose,

Eventually you did buy the cigarettes. You went home, lounging in your bed, a pretty china plate acting like an ashtray for you. Legs up in the air, swinging occasionally, eyes half lidded from the light high, you felt the chalky smoke fill your lungs, watching it come out in little clouds of grey air.

You felt in control for the first time since leaving Oklahoma - the cigarette sitting pretty between your red tinted fingers and lips. You smiled softly, satisfied by finally scoring a small win. You didn’t tell Tyler that you smoked. He’d say it’s a horrible habit you should give up.

Obviously it was more of a lose - giving into an impulse, and now you were at risk of falling deeper into addiction. You weren’t in control, you never really were.

But why would you make yourself feel worse when you were on the literal brink of crumbling?

Although, you didn’t get addicted. After the high wore off, you felt disgusted, throwing out the pack of almost full cigarettes. You wouldn’t tell Tyler, of course.

It hurts to be something

It’s worse to be nothing with you

Two weeks went by, and though you pretended everything was okay, it really wasn’t. You didn’t know if you missed Javi or not, but you really didn’t want to.

You don’t know if you want to see the face you loved so much, the face that lights up when he sees Kate, the face that Kate holds, kisses, caresses.. the face that she admires alongside you.

You wanted to get over him, you really did, but you cared so much about him. You didn’t want to stop caring about him, when loving him felt so… lovely.

But it hurt so much.

You barely got any sleep this past fortnight. Having a reverie about the man who daydreamed about another woman. The things you wished he did to you, he did to Kate. He was hers. So assured, so confident. No doubt in that.

For a fortnight, there you were, stripped of any text backs from him.

You were starting to think you just wanted his attention, which you dont know if you wanted anymore, knowing his attention belonged to Kate. Why would you care so much about him texting you?

But then again, weren’t you two friends?

I’ve done the math

There’s no solution

We’ll never last

Why can’t I let go of this?

Right now, you, broken, needed comfort. May it be fake hope again. Nobody was there to stop you anyway, so in your free time, you started to think of the ways Kate and Javi would have problems with each other.

‘She’s too arrogant sometimes, and he’s really down to earth’

‘She can’t communicate her feelings!’

‘Kate’s one to settle, Javi isn’t’

Of course, you knew it was wrong. Of course it was a bitchy thing to think. But who were you to care right now?

You were hurt, and you needed to feel better to even try and start to get a grip on reality. you didn’t want to rip of the band aid yet.

Not yet.

Even worse, your mind started thinking of ways you and Javi could get together; Kate could leave him in the dark again, she could get into a fight with him…

But nothing made sense - she wouldn’t leave when she looked at him that way… and any fights would be cleared quickly with Javi’s forgiving nature.

He would do anything for her.

All in all, you realized how shitty you were being, and texted Tyler, saying you couldn’t hide from Javi - couldn’t hide from the pain that haunted you. The bright lights of LA looked dull. The sun felt like a false light.

Your world was falling apart, how could the sun be shining when your world was falling apart?

‘Just walk around. Wear something that makes you feel good. Grab some good lunch downtown. Spoil yourself. Act like a damn tourist, I don’t care. Just do anything that reminds you that there’s more to life than Javi’ he wrote.

So I broke my promise

I called you last night

I shouldn’t have, I wouldn’t have

If it weren’t for the sight of a boy who

Looked just like you standing out on Melrose Avenue…

It hurts to be something

It’s worse to be nothing, with you.

Three days later, you sat on the roof of a building. The sun was setting, you looked at the streets below. People were walking - their dogs, their toddlers, and whatnot.

You were so disappointed with yourself. Closing your eyes, you thought back to everything that happened yesterday.

Following Tyler’s advice, you woke up ready to face the day.

Waking up bright and early, you went for a run, saw some pretty things on the way. You found it insane how easy it was to overlook the small things in life.

Coming home, you made breakfast; oatmeal with bananas, almond butter and chocolate chips. You savoured every bite with a smile.

You hopped into the shower, using your favourite body wash. Putting on an outfit, doing your hair and makeup, slipping on your shoes, you left the house, ready to explore the city…

All was going well until sunset.

—

You were walking along the streets of LA, acting like you’d never seen anything like it before. A coffee in hand, you walked confidently down the path, turning a corner to browse a bookstore on Melrose Avenue, when someone caught your eye.

A boy, waiting for the light signal to turn green, who looked exactly like Javi.

You froze.

Suddenly, you didn’t want coffee any more. You didn’t want anything right now but to go home.

—

You rushed home, trying so hard to control your breathing, then stumbling desperately to your room. As soon as your face crashed against the pillows, the soft, gentle fabric a perfect medium to absorb the tears now flowing down your face. You sobbed, curled into a still-bedazzled ball on your bed, hugging yourself, contracting into a fibonacci.

Reaching for your purse, you pulled out your phone, scrolling through your contacts. Through the wet and blurry lens of your tears, you scrolled into the alphabet until you reached the ‘J’ section. The first name was Javi.

Pressing on his name, then the ‘call’ button, you held it to your ear, taking shuddering breaths as you tried calming yourself down. The your phone cooed like a pigeon, signalling his phone, somewhere in Oklahoma, was ringing.

You were clean. Clean for a little over 2 weeks. Clean from his voice ringing in your ears, new words exchanged and whatnot.

But as you held your phone in your hand, crying, watching it reach Javi’s phone, waiting for him to answer, it all felt like a relapse.

Like the feeling of the cool blade on your skin, slicing through, leaving an angry red river in its wake.

The sick, high feeling you get from it - the ecstasy, watching you destroy yourself, finding beauty in the rubble.

Some part of you, the logical part of you was screaming to press the red button. To leave Javi alone. It wasn’t fair for you to reach out first, right? Why would you make a fool out of yourself by calling him? You’re not that desperate for him, are you?

But the hurt, emotional, desperate part of you didn’t, daring him to answer. Just to remind him of your existence. Just this once.

Still fighting the internal battle, you delved deeper into why he didn’t call you yet.

Did Kate tell him everything? Did she finally find out? Did she realize at all about how hurt you were?

The anger only just started to hit you, claiming your brain as a new population to be corrupted, a new host for the parasite, a new fruit to rot.

You were mad. You didn’t know at who. But you decided you were mad at Kate. For dating him. You knew it was wrong to be mad, because you had no claim over Javi, but you were too deep into your anger to actually think of a better way to cope. Suddenly, you were so mad at Kate. So, so mad. Part of you wanted to tear your house down, scream like a mad woman, but you didn’t. Your dwindling self control kept you in check.

Then came the sadness. You were so mad at Kate, but she was so happy right now. She didn’t care or know how your felt right now. how hurt you felt right now. She had Javi. Her Javi. And they were both happy - oh so happy, oh so blissfully unaware of how you felt right now.

They were happy - they were perfectly fine without you. Because they didn’t need you as a friend, not like they did in college - maybe they didn’t back then either, because they had each other. That’s all they needed. Each other was all they needed.

You were so deep into the crevices of your mind, drowning in both pain and relief, you almost didn’t hear your name drenched in Javi’s voice coming from the speaker.

‘(Y/N)?’

—

follow + stay tuned for part three!!

[hometoursandotherstuff]

OMG, this home is absolutely stunning. It's a 1920 carriage house in New York City, has 5bds, 6ba, and is listed for only $37.75M. But, get this- everything is included in the sale- the furnishings, art, and the Rolls Royce. Just bring your clothes.

So, you get this Rolls. I would definitely have to reinforce those garage doors. This is a gallery and you get all of the art with it.

Beautiful exposed brick wall, a tapestry and 3D sculptural art.

The gorgeous living room with a glass wall. You get all the art and books. This is making me sick.

Whomever said money doesn't buy happiness is a bedeviled liar. I would be ecstatically happy here.

Look at this cool kitchen. It's not huge, but I don't need much.

Very interesting bench. The cost of the art alone has to be in the millions.

Lovely dining area. Look, you get the blue sheep & pink pig eating out of bowls. How whimsical is that?

Door to the beautiful patio.

Lovely pool room.

It has an upright piano and it has doors- must be a player piano.

This may be the primary bedroom with a big brick fireplace and tons of art.

Check out the en-suite.

The guest room is just as wonderful as the primary bedroom with a brick fireplace wall, spaciousness and art.

Amazing roof top deck.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/178-E-75th-St-New-York-NY-10021/31535475_zpid/

[axlhecksbasement6]

Alone | Axl Heck x fem!Reader

You were one of Sue’s long time best friends. The Heck family basically watched as you grew up. they watched you fall, they watched you cry, they’ve seen far more embarrassing things that even your family hadn’t seen.

It was Junior Prom and everyone had a date except for you and Sue.

”It’s okay!” sue said enthusiastically. “We can be each other’s date!”

”That’s a great idea, we can even have matching dresses! Yours can be pink and mine will be (fav color)!” You said with a huge smile. You grabbed your magazine and with Sue you two began to browse. 

“This one is gorgeous!” She exclaimed pointing at the floor length gown.

”You have such a good eye!” You giggled.

If only you could stop time right there…

The next day you went back to the Heck residence.

”Hey Axl,” you smiled bashfully. You would never admit this to Sue but you had such a big crush on Axl since the 8th grade. Something about his jock, bad boy, long hair, aura made you want to kiss him.

”Hi,” he said nonchalantly. He grabbed a bag of chips and walked to his bedroom. You sighed defeatedly. You had been droppings hint to Axl that you want him to ask you yet he either ignored it or didn’t notice it.

”You should just ask him,” Brick said walking past you.

”What?!” You exclaimed nervously , “what would I ask him?”

”Everyone except for Axl knows. My mom and dad have a bet going on to see how long it takes for you to finally tell Axl,” Brick said nonchalantly.

”I’m not very good at hiding it am I?” You sighed.

”Nope! Even Sue knows, she just won’t say anything.” He grabbed his book before walking back to his bedroom.

You sat on the couch defeatedly, so everyone knew how hopelessly in love you are. “Idiot,” you mumbled.

Sue walked in the house squealing like a fangirl.

”Sue?” You said rushing towards her.

”Guess who just asked me to prom!” She asked. Your expression dropped.

”Who?” You asked trying not to sound disappointed.

”Darrin!” She squealed. You knew how much she liked Darrin and you always wanted to support your friends.

”That’s great!” You smiled and held her hands.

”I know! I’m so excited!” She jumped around causing her mom to walk out of her room.

”What’s all this noise?” She asked.

”Darrin just asked me to the prom!” Sue squealed excitedly.

You watched as Frankie’s expression drop, “What about (Y/n)?”

The realization hit Sue and she looked at you with an apologetic look.

”I’ll call Darrin and tell him I can’t go with him,” she tried to keep her optimistic expression but you knew deep down that she wanted to go with Darrin and not with you. 

“It’s okay, go with Darrin. I insist you go with Darrin,” you smiled holding her hands again.

”Really?” She asked and you nodded.

”I know how much you wanted Darrin to ask you and I would be a terrible friend if I robbed you from it.” You smiled. Even though deep down you were sad and disappointed. “But, this means you have to get a pretty and unique dress for prom!”

”OMG! You are so right! We should go dress shopping! The three of us!” Sue excitedly said jumping up and down.

”Yeah! We have to pick the prettiest dresses!” You smiled clapping your hands.

”Can you take us mom? Please!!” Sue begged.

”Okay, okay. I’ll take you two dress shopping,” she smiled. You and Sue squealed in excitement and rushed to her bedroom to do more magazine looking. 

The day finally came and Mrs. Heck took the two of you dress shopping. You three went to at least ten different shops and tried on at least 30 dresses per store. 

“I hate this one!” She exclaimed rushing back to the fitting room.

”You looked adorable!” Frankie shouted only to get a frustrated grunt from Sue.

You stepped out wearing a floor length (color) dress. 

“Oh. My. God. You look absolutely gorgeous in that!” She said watching as you did a small runway walk.

”I love this one so much!” You smiled excitedly. “It’s in my budget too!” 

“It is so gorgeous!” Mrs. Heck gave you a wide smile.

”I’m getting it,” you said walking back to your fitting room. Sue tried on three more dresses before finding the perfect dress for her. She couldn’t stop twirling and bowing like a princess. You check dress shopping off your list. 

Prom night arrived and still you didn’t have a date. You put on your best smile and walked to Sue’s house. You saw Darrin’s car parked on their driveway and you felt a sick feeling in your stomach. It dawned on you that you’re a third wheel. You stopped outside the front door and debated wether you should go in or not. You sighed and walked in.

”(Y/n)! You’re here!” Sue exclaimed happily walking up to you.

”I sure am!” You smiled happily.

”You two look gorgeous!” Mrs. Heck smiled. She pulled out the camera and took pictures of you and Sue, Sue alone, Sue and Darrin, and the three of you. The sick feeling never left your stomach.

”Let me get one if you (Y/n),” Mrs. Heck smiled. You awkwardly stood there as Mrs. Heck took a picture. You couldn’t help but  feel sad. You’re going to be the only one there without a date, you’ll be third wheeling with your childhood best friend. “You look beautiful.”

You smiled at her the best you could.

”We should get going!” Sue said happily grabbing your hand.

”Actually, I think I’ll drive myself to prom,” you smiled. “You and Darrin deserve a grand entrance!” 

“Are you sure?” Sue asked and you nodded.

”I insist,” you smiled holding her hand again. She smiled at you, waved good bye to her mom wand excitedly walked with Darrin.

”Do you want a ride?” Frankie asked and you shook your head.

”My dad left the nice car for me, I’ll make my grand entrance,” you smiled at her. “I should get going or I’ll be late and not the cool kind of late.”

”I want a lot of pictures,” Frankie smiled and you nodded. You walked out of the house and stood on their porch. You began to walk back home and the tears began to fall. You couldn’t help it at the point. You couldn’t help but feel defeated. Even though you suggested it you wished that maybe Sue would come back, ditch Darrin, and go to the prom with you. You arrived at home and realized you didn’t have your house keys. You repeatedly knocked on the door before realizing your moms car was gone. 

You sighed defeatedly once more. You began to walk to school. You and Sue used to walk together but now she gets a ride from her brother or her boyfriend. The tears began to fall again. You were happy for Sue yet you felt like you were missing out.

The heels began to hurt your feet. You stopped and took them off. 

“Stupid heels,” you whispered. You hated the concrete floors and the sound your feet made when it hit the floor. After 15 minutes you arrived at school. You watched as the couples entered the building with huge smiles on their faces. 

You put on your heels and walked inside the building. You looked around and saw Sue happily dancing with Darrin, a smile crept to your face. You walked around a little and watched the couples.

You walked to the desert table and grabbed a cupcake. You walked around again, a slow song began to play as the couples began to dance with each other.

Your heart dropped, you were alone. In a sea of couples you were by yourself. You felt tears again, you walked out of the gym and outside the building. No one was outside except for you. 

You slumped down on the steps, you wanted to cry but you didn’t want to seem weak. You didn’t want someone to see you and laugh at you.

”Why aren’t you inside?” You heard that familiar voice. Axl. You quickly wiped away the tears before looking up.

”It was too crowded, I needed some air,” you smiled.

”Then why are you crying?” He asked. You looked away and shrugged.

”I wasn’t crying, something got in my eye and I was trying to take it out,” you mumbled.

”I can tell when you’re sad. We basically grew up together,” he said extending his hand. “You shouldn’t be out here on prom.”

You looked at him confused but held his hand anyway. You noticed his tux and smiled.

”Did your mom send you?” You asked.

”Yes and no,” he said.

”Yes and no?” You questioned and he nodded.

“I wanted to come, I just didn’t know if you wanted me to go. You and Sue were going so I thought it would be awkward for me to go to prom with my sister, then stupid Darrin asked her to prom. I just didn’t know how to ask you.” He explained and you felt your face heat up. “And then my mom told me to go, she said you looked sad and wanted me to go and cheer you up.”

”Tell your mom I said thanks,” you smiled and he nodded. You two walked back inside. Luckily the DJ was playing one more slow song.

”Can I have this dance?” He asked and you nodded. You rested your head on his chest and listened to his heart beat. You felt like you finally weren’t alone. Like finally, you felt alive, you felt noticed, you felt like yourself again. Even though prom was short and not as magical as you expected it to be, you still had such a good time.

[strawberryforks]

better than hemingway // damian wayne x ironrot!reader

summary: you and your boyfriend have WEIRD sleep schedules, your nemesis is a bird, you’re a thief, and this is part one of a new series.

warnings: swearing, blood, violence, criminal activity (idk man, you’re not a good guy)

a/n: reader and damian are 18/19. requests are open <3 feel free to spam

word count: 1174

it’s pitch black in the apartment–all of the lights are off, and you, making your footsteps featherlight have no intentions of turning any of them back on. your boyfriend, who you’re certain is an insomniac is up at all hours of the night and the lightest sleeper you’ve ever met. it’s because of this that you two don’t usually sleep in the same bed. you were friends and roommates before you were anything more so aside from the occasional sleepover and exchange of clothes (damian has less sweaters then he started with, tee shirts too as you love to sleep in them) not much has changed. your room is still decorated with posters, flooring comprised solely of dirty clothes, empty water bottles, pins and stuffed animals, and his is still perfectly organised. you’re opposites and it shows. but in every way it counts? it doesn’t matter a bit. you creep through the hallway with your pastel pink slippers on. they’re fluffy and don’t click against the ground. you step over the creaky floorboards, having memorised them, and make it to the living room. your eyes have adjusted to the dark, so you look around, and when nothing is amiss, nudge the door open.

the bellman has retired for the night, so it’s up to you to let yourself out. and you do. after ducking into an alleyway you put on your suit and fish your phone from your bag before stashing it behind the green bin. “hey dae. esti called and needed me. i’m sleeping over.”

then, you send a text to esti, “hey girl. if damian calls you tell him we’re together. thanks in advance xoxo.”

god only knows why she was awake at 2am, but your phone dings and there’s a response almost immediately. “and if he shows up like last time?”

“spam me and tell him i went to pick something up at our fav 24 hour gas station. i’ll book it there and boom. anyways wth are you awake???”

“was bingeing supernatural. sue me.” (you couldn’t blame her)

“well try to get some sleep sometime. I’ll stop by tomorrow. for real. want anything?”

“would love a new necklace. not too memorable tho.”

“i was thinking icecream but sure. ly.”

you pocket your phone, sticking it into the most secure pocket in your suit. after glancing at the green bin to confirm that nothing’s visible–not your bag or damian’s sweater. your hands find purchase in the crevices between bricks, molten iron helps to stick your fingertips to the wall you scale. then , on the rooftop, the wind picks up. the night air is chilly, perfect foreshadowing for the crime you’re about to commit. no, you’re not going to steal ice cream. that’s tomorrows problem, a cone is only $3, and the woman who runs the shack is the sweetest ever. it’s more tempting to gift her things than to take from her.

you run across the roofs until you reach your destination. then, you lower yourself down to the ground and make quick work of the doorknob. “someone hasn’t been robbed before,” you muse, pins slotting around easily, latch clicking open. shouldering through, a grin splits your face as you look around. everything is dusty and allergies are a bitch, “ACHOO!” your sneeze startles a cat, and the tortie stretches out and walks over to you, angling to be pet. the pet flops down and when it isn’t given the expected attention–hisses and walks away.

after stuffing a few watches, some costume jewellery, a wooden beaded necklace, some first edition books (damian’s birthday was coming up and they would make great gifts so long as no one made a huge deal about them being missing), a map (it looked cool) and just about everything behind the glass wall you broke with a few well places thumps of your fist. finishing up your haul, he arrived.

just in time because what was a night without your nemesis making his incredibly irritating presence known.

robin. fucking robin.

he’s your nemesis. nope, you couldn’t get batman so there’s a teenage boy, nearly as unhinged as you are, tailing you and constantly foiling your plans. (you’re a teenager too, but still, it’s embarrassing) even this heist he interrupts and you weren’t even doing any real damage. this excursion was more for fun than anything and he was here to ruin it. “how many times are we going to have to do this?”

“well, until you give up, obviously, bird boy. and you’re a persistent little shit, so forever, probably?”

“or until i send you to arkham.”

you snort, “good luck with that.”

he unsheathed his sword and lunged. you rolled to the slide, dodging his blade but–the sack slung over your shoulder split, stolen items spilling out. he wasn't trying to cut you–just your score. goddamnit, you could be dense sometimes. robin picked a book up, “you enjoy austen, do you?”

you scoff, eyes wide as you look at his other hand. the other items are all over the ground, some underfoot but he managed to save the books from being damaged. good, because you wanted them for your boyfriend. “better than hemingway,” you throw a ninja star, one you’ve forged yourself, and send it sailing his way. robin sets the books down behind a desk and you take note of their precise location, scooping a handful of discarded loot into your pocket. esti was going to love that necklace. you stuffed it down the front of your suit, sliding across the floor and ducking under another swipe of his sword. something pierced your suit and you winced–it wasn’t even robin, just a fucking splinter of something you’d broken earlier. springing back up, you crafted another ball of iron and threw it his way, the molten liquid glowing orange. when it landed on the wood floor and began to smolder, you had your distraction. you decided to come back for the books later and robin attempted to smother the growing flames. “you should get that checked out,” he said, slapping an old sued jacket over the glowing orange and red. you looked down at your thigh, at the piece of glass sticking out of it. it was larger than you’d thought. “and check myself into the hospital so you can find me? no thanks.”

“or pull it out and die. either works for me” he slams the jacket into the flames again, in an attempt to smother them. as it’s working, you decide to make your leave, sprinting through the door and down the street.

you stop by the alleyway, grab your belongings and actually head to esti’s. she’ll patch you up and you’ve got something to pay her with–the necklace.

[strawberriesinbloom]

Taking Lucifer Down a Peg (or Two)

MC/Lucifer

Summary: Lucifer's demon form was powerful, perfect, and poised. Was it really so bad that you wanted to see more of it?

Word Count: 2732

This fic is set in Nightbringer and based off of Mammon's NB Chapter A Devilgram. There shouldn't be too many spoilers besides the basic plot of Nightbringer (aka you're stuck in the past), and what I shared in the link.

This is a tickle fic btw

~🍓~

“I can’t believe the time,” you muttered, staring at your D.D.D. It was so late, much later than you planned to stay at the House of Lamentation. You pressed your lips together. Solomon was probably worried out of his mind.

Lucifer eyed you warily, slowing his pace down to keep up with your stride. “Yes, I apologize for keeping you here so late. I did not expect your duties to take so long.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. You would have been home a lot sooner if Satan hadn’t decided to trash the entire kitchen, which set off Beelzebub, who accidentally bumped into Mammon, who–

Ugh. You were getting a headache just thinking about it.

“It's fine,” you said, “It’s not that long of a trek back to Cocytus Hall, anyway.”

“No, it's too dangerous to travel by yourself at night. You should leave in the morning.”

You snorted, following Lucifer, as he walked up the stairs and away from the front door. “Did you forget that I’ve been in the Devildom much longer than you?” 

It wasn’t a lie. Technically.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow and gave you a look. “Then, consider this to be a selfish request,” he said, looking over at you with an amused glint in his eyes. “Would you consider spending the night here with me?”

Lucifer stopped in the middle of the hallway, his hand resting on the doorknob to his room. You almost bumped into him but stopped yourself just in time. He was awaiting a response from you. 

“My, my, sleeping in your room? That's a bit forward, isn't it?” You asked in a teasing tone. It didn't matter if it was the past or the present: you would never pass up the chance to poke fun at Lucifer.

A bit of pink dusted his cheeks. It was subtle, but it was there. “I was thinking that you would stay in the guest room, but my room works, as well,” he said quietly. 

He opened the door and stepped inside. You followed right behind him. “I think I'll sleep in your room. Your bed looks more comfortable, anyway.”

That was a lie. You knew from personal experience that his bed felt like sleeping on a brick, but those were the sacrifices you had to make to get some one-on-one time with this elusive demon.

Lucifer said, “I have a spare set of nightwear you can borrow and an unopened pack of toothbrushes you can choose from.”

“I can choose a toothbrush? Wow, I really am living the high life here.”

“Stop dawdling.”

“Alright, alright. I get it.”

Once you and Lucifer got ready for bed, you flopped down on his mattress and scooted over to the right side, shimmying underneath the covers. You sighed, nuzzling the pillow. The familiar scent of cedarwood was comforting. It was almost like you had never left your timeline. 

Lucifer stared at you with his arms crossed, no doubt bewildered by how easily you had made yourself at home in his bed. You stared right back at him with a neutral expression. Finally, he blew air out of his nose in amusement before laying down next to you. Lucifer picked up a large book on his bedside table and opened it up to where he had placed his plain blue bookmark. He began reading. 

You turned over so that you were facing Lucifer. “What’s that book about?” 

A conflicted, almost sullen look crossed Lucifer’s face for a brief moment. “Oh, this?” In an out-of-character moment, he hesitated. “It's about an angel falling in love with a human. It's fiction, simply a bit of light reading before bed,” he said.

You snickered. “Light?” That thing was huge.

“Yes, light.”

“You know, that reminds me.” You sat up in bed, tossing the covers away from you. “Mammon told me once that angels could take off their wings. Is that true?” 

“It is but not in the way you're thinking.” He thumbed the page he was on but hadn't committed to turning it completely. “Angels can choose to hide or show their wings similar to how demons can choose to hide or show their demonic characteristics. It’s their version of our demon forms if you will.”

“Oh, that’s interesting.”

Lucifer hummed, going back to reading his novel.

You fiddled with the corner of the comforter. “Mammon also told me that you used to have twelve wings when you were an angel, but he never got to see them.”

Lucifer didn't respond, choosing to focus on his book. He turned the page and let out a small huff of laughter at whatever he had read. Was he ignoring you on purpose? 

You narrowed your eyes and crossed your arms in front of your chest. “Mammon said something else that piqued my interest. He mentioned that he thought tickling you might have made the rest of them pop out,” you said.

Lucifer glared at you as though you were a rotten banana peel he found on the ground. His nose wrinkled in irritation. “Don't you dare.” His knuckles tightened against the book he was holding.

“It's too bad Mammon can't test out his theory, anymore, but since you told me that demon and angel forms are similar to each other…” You trailed off, allowing your hand to do the talking. You wiggled your fingers and slowly reached out toward his stomach.

Lucifer grabbed your wrist, gripping it a tad harder than was honestly necessary. You tried not to wince in pain. He was holding his book in one hand now, and you noticed that it was shaking slightly in his hold. His nostrils were flared, and a terrifying look swam in his reddish-gray eyes.

It was cute seeing Lucifer panic like that. It was a rare but not an unwelcome sight, that was for certain. He was desperately trying to regain control of the situation. Too bad you had to ruin that.

“If you try to lay a single finger on me, I'll–” 

Lucifer interrupted himself with a sharp gasp when you used your other hand to dig into the soft part of his thigh. He jerked his leg up, letting go of both your wrist and his book, which tumbled all of the way to the floor. 

“Oops, sorry,” you chuckled. You used this opportunity to spider all ten of your fingers along his sides. 

He tried to grab your wrists again, but you, expecting this, immediately pivoted to tickle his thighs, again. Lucifer wriggled under your grip. His cheeks turned a bright red, as he tried to suppress his laughter. Admittedly, he was doing a good job. You probably wouldn’t have realized the tickling was getting to him if it wasn’t for the fact that he was acting like he was being electrocuted.

Lucifer choked out, “Stop that!” He grabbed your shoulders and pushed you back. You fell over with only a small blow to your ego. Lucifer tried to get out of his bed, but you played dirty. Very dirty.

“Stay!” you shouted, using your pact powers on him. 

A surge of magic flew through the air, as Lucifer flopped down on his back. He tried to get up, but you were quickly at his side. You wiggled your fingers against his ribs, taking the time to silently count every single one.

Lucifer kicked his legs out. His face was contorted into a grimace, but if you looked close enough, you could see the hint of a smile across his lips. You were so close to breaking him. Lucifer weakly grabbed your upper arm, but your pact prevented him from doing much else.

“Sorry for using my powers on you,” you said, “but I really wanted to see if Mammon was right. I want to tickle you until your demon form pops out. You’ll forgive me for that, right?” After all, wasn’t it better to beg for forgiveness than ask for permission?

Lucifer opened his mouth to retort but immediately clamped his mouth shut. You could tell he was afraid of bursting out into laughter. A loud huff of air moved past his lips, causing him to press them together.

You moved to claw at his stomach. 

Lucifer jumped and squeaked.

You paused, staring at him with awe. He looked at you with a pained expression. 

“I can’t believe I made that sound,” he said helplessly. 

“I can.” 

You started tickling him again, focusing on that one sensitive spot near his belly button that had made him squeak. Lucifer writhed under your touch. He tried grabbing at your arms and wrists again but with much more desperation this time. You slipped your hands underneath his shirt, drilling your thumbs into the divots just above his hips. His skin was deliciously warm, and you couldn't help but linger in that one spot.

“HAHAHA!” Lucifer suddenly burst out into loud, frantic cackles. “DAHAHAMMIT!” His smile was wide, despite how hard he was trying to force it back down into a frown. If you looked close enough, you could see what appeared to be tiny fangs where his incisors would be. Were those always there, or was it a sign?

“You have a nice laugh, Lucifer,” you said, continuing to tickle that same spot. It seemed to be particularly bad for him, which meant that you were obligated to torture him there.

Lucifer managed to whack your shoulder. It only stung a little. “Shuhut uhuhuh–UHUP” The poor guy couldn't even get more than a few words in due to how hard he was laughing. He tossed his head back and continued to cackle. You pinched at his hips. He seized your wrists, trying to pull them off, but he couldn't. “AHA! NOHOT THEHEHERE!”

You shrugged. Lucifer seemed to be at his limit already, so you decided to be a little merciful. Slipping your hands out from underneath his shirt, you began to dig your fingers into his armpits. Lucifer dissolved into soft, almost (but not quite) hiccupy giggles.

“Ehehehehe…” Lucifer squeezed his eyes shut and jerked his head away. He bit his bottom lip to stop himself from laughing. It worked for a couple of seconds until you started to gently scratch at the area right below his underarms. “Ahaha! I'm going to–I’m going ehehehe to gehehet you for thihihis.” He looked angry, at least, as angry as he could have with an adorable smile and rosy cheeks offsetting his furrowed eyebrows. 

“I’d like to see you try.”

That was the wrong thing to say because Lucifer managed to land a strong kick straight to your stomach. You doubled over, the air whooshing out of you. Yep, you deserved that for getting so cocky around a demon. Lucifer flipped himself over on his hands and knees to try to get away from you. 

That was right. You were in the past now. The pact bond between you and Lucifer was weaker, and thus, less effective. Huh. Thankfully, you had some old-fashioned tricks up your sleeve. 

You sat on the small of his back. 

“What are you doing?” Lucifer growled, trying to buck you off. 

You grinned. “I think you know.” You squeezed his sides and dragged your nails up and down his terribly sensitive skin. It was a little embarrassing for a demon of his caliber to be this ticklish, but you didn't tell him that.

Lucifer swore under his breath. “Stohohop or else!” He was trying to knock you off, again, but you planted yourself firmly on top of him. 

“I'd like you to stay right there, Lucifer,” you said, using your pact on him, again. 

He stilled, no longer trying to push you off of him. You smiled and took this opportunity to really get under his skin. You tickled him along his torso and wherever your fingers could reach, taking the time to focus on his most sensitive spots.

Lucifer pressed his face against the mattress in an attempt to muffle his loud laughter. “You b–behehetter behe ehehe prepared for your puhuhuhunishment! Ahaha! HahahAHAha!” He shrieked when you managed to suddenly spider your fingertips along the sides of his neck. He scrunched his shoulders up, but that didn't stop you from trying to draw that sound out from him, again.

You chose to ignore him and pretended to peer at the top of his head. “Ooh, are those horns I see? I think it's working! I can see your demon form emerging.” You were just kidding, of course, but the urge to tease Lucifer never stops.

“Stop lying!” Lucifer managed to grunt out in between fits of pure laughter. You had never seen him laugh this much before, not even in the present. It was nice seeing this side of him. You supposed that the main difference between Lucifer from the past and Lucifer from the present was that your Lucifer was better at hiding his reactions. This one hadn't quite mastered that skill, yet.

“I don't think I am,” you said. You started to tickle his hips, again. That was your favorite spot because of the reactions you’d get from him whenever you teased him there.

Lucifer clawed at the area in front of him, balling up fistfuls of the comforter in his hands at a time. A part of you wanted to hear him beg, but you knew he was too prideful to do something like that.

He cackled and pounded the mattress with his fist. “AHAHA! Stop! Stohop ihit now!” His commanding presence was muddled by how cute and giggly he was being. Lucifer wriggled and twisted in place, desperate to get you to stop tickling him. His entire body twitched with each new touch. 

“Aw, but I haven't even–ugh!”

Something hit you square in the jaw. Stars clouded your vision, as you tumbled backward. You almost fell off of Lucifer’s bed, but you managed to catch yourself just in time. You propped yourself on one elbow and rubbed the underside of your stinging face. Yeah, that was going to leave a nasty bruise later. You were pretty sure you accidentally bit your tongue, too.

Wait. There was something weird inside of your mouth. Ew! You spat it out into your hand and tried not to gag. Opening your eyes, you saw that it was…a black feather? You inspected it further. Yep, that was what it was. Where did it come from?

You looked up and saw Lucifer. He had managed to sit up on his knees and was scowling at you. The diamond on his forehead looked oddly menacing in the dim lighting of his bedroom. His flowy black and red outfit was draped over his body, trailing along the bed. His horns, black as night, twisted up from his head, pointing up toward the ceiling. Lucifer’s two sets of wings flapped angrily, sending a small gust of wind your way.

He was in his demon form.

Lucifer was in his demon form.

Mammon was right.

You were able to tickle Lucifer until his demon form popped out.

Wow.

As much as you wanted to celebrate this achievement, you weren’t able to, considering the death glare Lucifer was giving you. His breathing was ragged and his face was still cherry red, but that didn't change how menacing Lucifer could be when he was in his demon form.

“Congratulations. You were right. I hope you're proud of yourself,” Lucifer said. His voice was a low growl. The smirk he was giving you sent shivers up your spine. He tugged on his gloves like he was preparing for something.

“I am, actually,” you muttered, slowly crawling backward. Maybe if you made a run for it, you could make it to the door…

Lucifer shook his head. “Always so cocky, despite knowing exactly what I'm going to do to you.”

“And that would be?”

“I'm going to tickle you until you're begging for mercy. Do you think you could handle that?” Lucifer stepped up close to you, subtly blocking off your exit.

You smiled at him, as sweetly as you could. “I seriously doubt you could lay a hand on me.”

Lucifer raised an eyebrow. “Is that a challenge?”

“Maybe.”

The fury on Lucifer’s face washed away, as he started to snicker. He shook his head in exasperation and pressed his fingers against his temples. “You always know how to push my buttons.”

That, you did.

[rokishimizu4]

Constantine is done, but so is Tim

(This happened a bit before Alfred’s and Jason’s headcanons)

*”And I’m tell you that I would know if it was something supernatural. Even Alfred checked you out and nothing was wrong.” John grumbles as he closes his occult book and his hands stops glowing as Tim puts back on his shirt.

*Cue very unhappy Red Robin noises as he reaches over and grabs a huge mug of steaming hot coffee, and drowns it.

*John simply rolls his eyes and wonders why he agreed to babysit the bedridden Robin, but remembers the look of stress in Bruce’s eyes as he asks for help.

*”Fine, you spoiled little brat, let’s get going.” He grumbles as he helps Tim up off of the bed and follows him out of the Batcave and back to the building in question. (While also sending a quick update to the rest of the Bat family)

*Cue a very long, and awkward, walk to the abandoned warehouse, still covered in yellow police tape and the floor covered in dried and old blood.

*Splitting up, while not the best idea, did help Tim remember where he was originally meant to enter from. Which was covered in claw marks (deep into the brick and steel surrounding the high window a good 40 feet up) and a black slime that smells faintly of what he thinks stardust would smell like.

*While Tim, dressed in civilian clothes-trying to blend in, is checking it out, he hears John yelping and cursing in ancient Latin through the steel and brick walls.

*Tim scrambles towards the hole in the wall, and finds Constantine trying to dodge some type of sheep with wings, colored in blues and pinks, that was firing some type of dust at him.

*The sheep, or ram or something, seems to notice him as well and begins to speak in English….

*”Great, another two bit magician who can’t keep his nose to himself.” It huffs as it dodges yet another blast of magic. Before it simply begins to grow and change, spreading dust around itself.

*”Am I high or still asleep?” Tim yelps as he takes cover under a overturned table and covers his nose and mouth with the thick material of his jacket, as it was slowly turning cold, but the creature jumps John before he could return the favor.

*”Get off of me, you sheep whore!” John curses as he scrambles to get his trench coat off of him, as it was being covered in the strange dust, but gets a heeled kick in his stomach in return.

*Tim peeks over to find some type of demon standing over John’s groaning form. Horns like a sheep, or Ram he would have to look it up later if he remembers, and its hair twisted in blues and pinks.

*The clothing, if you can call it that, barely covered anything and he could clearly see that it had black, leather, wings and a long pointed tail.

*The demon jumps off of John and looks over at Tim, giving him a very confused look. Before it gives a clap and floats, flies?, over to him.

*”Little Sleeper will be so happy to see you up and about! They were so worried that they somehow killed you!”

*Cue slow realization that this demon thing, whatever, knew who he was and that it knew that he got his ass kicked by accident! Cue Tim trying to play it off, but him getting a disappointed look from the demon and a choked off chuckle from John.

*”Can’t lie to a demon, sweet little thing. But I like that you have the balls to try. However, I’m not here on a social call, so please drag this sorry excuse of a human being back to your little fancy house and leave the bad guys to us, yes?”

*The demon gives Tim a creepy smile before simply disappearing in a cloud of dust, that strangely smells of peppermint and spiced cider.

*The two men agree to never speak about the incident again, at least until they both get enough coffee in them to properly process what they just experienced.

*Also, cue Tim blaming it on the drugs in his system, which he has none of btw, and goes back to bed.

[prismaticfaery]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Ghost takes a bullet for you.

TW: Violence, cursing, death, blood, typical Call of Duty stuff.

A/N: I firmly believe Ghost would do this. This is now canon to me. Enjoy! ❤️

Sweat clung to your brows as you mounted your rifle around the corner of a brick building. The heat was unforgivable, and the dryness of the air was chapping your lips and drying your eyes out. Evac was arriving for you and Ghost two miles away but the Al-Qatala forces were right on your tails as the two of you booked it through the streets of Urzikstan. It had been a miserable recon mission as you and your Lieutenant were the only soldiers that volunteered to carry it out. 

You had gotten dangerously low on ammo, and Ghost was only able to hand you his pistol in case of an emergency, disdain of the situation could be seen on his face with how tightly his brows knitted, and you knew he was scowling underneath his mask at this very moment when he took the magazine out of his rifle to check how many rounds he had left– not many by the look of it. 

“We should have prepared better,” Ghost muttered under his breath, clearly peeved about the circumstances you both had landed in. 

“We thought there would only be a few soldiers by the looks of the reports we were given and all of the positions we found, there were only two or so posted– it’s not our fault,” you reply, moving slowly behind Ghost as he motioned his hand to press forward. 

“We’re desperate,” Ghost raises his rifle to look at his scope in one hand while reaching his hand behind him to tell you to stop moving. 

“Are you scared, L.t.?” You smirk, lowering yourself behind his position. 

“Hardly,” he huffs, placing his other hand on the rifle to steady his aim and then pulls the trigger to shoot an enemy positioned on a roof straight ahead. 

Moving through the outskirts of the town together, you kept your eyes peeled and your rifle ready, even though a few rounds left in the magazine may not get you too far in the case of an emergency. Ducking low behind a car for a moment to catch your breath, Ghost uses the scope on his rifle to search for any snipers perched on top of buildings. 

Wiping the sweat from your brow, you huff, taking a moment to take a swig from your water canteen. Pouring water into your hand, you splash it over your face, sighing deeply at how refreshing it felt to get rid of some of the grime and sweat caked on your face. 

It was getting close to early evening, the Sun painting the scenery and town in shades of pink and orange. The town you and Ghost were sent to was long a ghost town with abandoned and nearly demolished buildings and houses, the residents leaving once Al-Qatala set up there left so many things behind that it was nearly haunting. Like time stood still.

Over the course of several weeks, there had been a number of odd delivery boats arriving in several countries around the world, and Al-Qatala’s prints were all over them. Once the boats were searched, large amounts of ammunition, firearms, and explosives were uncovered. It was enough to cause a huge issue if things were given time, but thankfully the crates were confiscated. All the Task Force needed was answers as to what those crates were for, so here you and Ghost were. 

“It’s not often I fail on a mission,” Ghost spoke up after a pregnant silence between you both. 

“Don’t take it too hard, we had every odd against us,” you trail off in your sentence, looking into the distance. 

Ghost grunts, grabbing your vest and pulling you forward to stand in front of him, “let’s keep moving, evac is about to arrive and we don’t want to hold them up.” 

Knowing that Ghost was disappointed in this mission and at himself made you question yourself in volunteering. Maybe things would have turned out differently if you hadn’t been spotted trying to go up a ladder to stake out enemy positions from the roof of a building. Ghost was often a lone wolf, choosing to go on recon missions alone for the sake of knowing he could be in and out quietly and without a trace and although you were a seasoned soldier, Ghost thought you were pretty clunky compared to him.

Ghost kept his rifle up, turning his body in a full 360 slowly as you pressed forward in the dusty and dry terrain to make sure your back was covered. The evac point wasn’t far off now. You could hear the familiar sound of helicopter blades in the distance. 

Your parade would soon be rained on however as you could hear armored vehicles rush to your position. Ghost curses, telling you to pick up the speed. Gunshots whizz past you and over your head and your heartbeat could be felt in your throat as your feet were on autopilot, running as fast as you humanly could.

The helicopter is soon seen slowing down overhead, the pilot and co-pilot motioning you to come closer with their hands, “as soon as we lower down, get in so we can close the hatch,” you hear in your headset. 

Ghost takes the pin out of a frag grenade, tossing it in the direction of the vehicles, the small explosive breaking apart in several directions as it goes off. One vehicle’s tires become flattened as the frag hits the rubber, but the vehicle still presses forward in the dirt. As Ghost continues to run, he makes sure to keep you in front of him at all times, yelling at you to keep going no matter what. To which you continue pressing forward, no matter how much your lungs feel like they might explode and your legs give out from under you. 

Once reaching the hatch of the helicopter, Ghost pushes his hand into the middle of your back, causing you to fly forward and land inside the helicopter. You roll onto your back and sit up, reaching your hand out to pull him inside. Clutching your hand onto the back of his vest with the other hand pulling his arm forward, gunshots sprayed inside the helicopter, ricocheting and causing sparks.

Ghost turns over and gets himself into a crouching position, sliding the pin out of a flash grenade he grabbed from off of his vest, he throws it at an incoming vehicle, the driver covering his eyes with an arm. In the passenger seat, another man was aiming right at you as the effects of the flash began wearing off. 

“Move!” Ghost yells, grabbing you to pull you down to the ground. 

A gunshot sounds, Ghost’s body weight plastering you to the cold metal of the floor. He lets out a hiss, his breathing is quick and shallow and at first, you just assume it was from all of the running, until you could feel him begin to struggle to pull himself off of you. 

“Were you hit?!” You scream, sliding your body from under him, pulling him up and flipping him over to rest his back against your torso. 

“My shoulder,” was all he could muster in short jagged breaths. 

Tears slid down your eyes, fear eating away at you as you began to unfasten his tactical vest, tossing it to the side. You then lift the dark hoodie he wore over his head and mask, seeing an angry gunshot wound oozing blood down his chest and stomach. Grabbing the hoodie he was wearing, you press it to his wound while you inspect the rest of his body. 

“There’s an exit, the bullet went right through,” you say shakily, your hands trembling with fear and adrenaline as you hold pressure on the seeping wound. 

“Bloody good shot he got on me, this hurts like hell,” Ghost jokes, taking the situation surprisingly well, “that was my favorite pullover.”

“You fucking idiot, why would you do that?” You sob, holding his body close, his head buried in the supple flesh of your chest. 

“Simple really,” he tilts his head back to look at you, placing his gloved hand on your reddened cheek, wiping away the fresh tears that trailed down. “I’d do it all over again if it meant you were safe.”

[hswriting]

The Moment I Knew - Part 2

[Image Alt ID: a four picture collage with a light brown background. The top left picture is a cup of coffee and a muffin in a brown takeout box. The top right picture is a couch with blankets on it in front of a fireplace. Around the fireplace is decorated with candles and a lamp. The bottom left picture is of Harry Styles in a headband with a green microphone. This picture shows his arm tattoos. The bottom right picture is of a leather bound notebook with a brown ribbon. On the cover of the book is a butterfly. End Alt ID]

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Masterlist Series Part 1 Part 3

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3.4k words

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Millie is going over to Harry’s house to burn her ex’s stuff he left behind.

I went to bed feeling drained last night, and while I’m still upset, I feel a bit better knowing I have Harry in my corner.

We never talked much before but we aren’t strangers. I would stay at Kellen’s a lot before, but it had since fizzled down to only once a week or so. When Kellen would have friends over at his place, Harry was always one of the first ones to arrive. He always brought food or a gift. He isn’t one of the loud, rambunctious ones of the group. He would sometimes even come to hang out with Kellen alone, but wasn’t feeling up to games or anything too high energy. I remember him being upset one time and Kellen was comforting him. Harry said he didn’t want to be alone, but he didn’t feel like doing anything. So he came over to hang out and write in his leather bound journal while Kellen and him talked. I didn’t listen in after that. I figured it was private. I went to his bedroom and played on his computer.

He definitely isn’t a stranger but I wish I knew more about him since he wants to help me through this. He said he’s been through this hurt before. Someone has taken his heart and shattered it like glass. Someone has betrayed him in the worst way. If he felt anything like I do, he has felt worthless and defeated. Not ever knowing how he will recover from it. Hopeless. And for that I am so sorry.

This is the worst kind of hurt.

I pull into the driveway of the address Harry sent me and the house is huge. It’s a beautiful two story, white brick house.

I grab the gift bag I brought him, as well as the duffle of Kellen’s stuff and the bag of snacks.

I ring the doorbell and hear footsteps. The door unlocks and opens to see Harry in some black sweat pants and a football T-shirt. His hair is not neatly done like normal, but is instead a mess of curls lying on his head.

“Millie, come in, it’s freezing out there.” He said stepping aside. I walk in and take off my heavy coat to reveal my comfort clothes. I didn’t have the energy to actually get dressed today. Just grey leggings and a plain black crop top.

“I’m sorry I look like a bum. I wasn’t really feeling it today.”

“You don’t look like a bum. You look good Millie.” He says, looking at my clothes. I remove my boots and set everything down in the living room where he has a movie on the tv and a small gift on the table.

“I brought you something too.” I tell him and hand him the bag. We unpack everything before we unwrap our small housewarming gifts. He pours out the wine I brought as I unwrap the small box on the table. It’s a small bottle of pink perfume. I spritz it and it smells wonderful. “Thank you Harry. You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I like getting my friends gifts. And besides, you brought me one too.”

“It’s nothing. You’re helping through a really hard time. You deserve it.” I say as he unwraps his. He pulls out a new leather journal with a small H stamped on it, and a package of nice ink pens.

“I love this Millie. You have no idea.”

“I remember you used to come over and journal and write while talking to Kellen. I figured you could use a new one, if the other one is getting full. I wasn’t sure.”

“It’s wonderful Millie. I really appreciate it.” He says with a smile painted across his face. He can’t stop running his hands over the cover. He eventually does put it down to take a sip of the wine. He sits down and looks at the pile of pictures and clothes by the fireplace. I take a long sip of wine. “Are you sure you want to do this?” He asks. I nod.

“He betrayed me in the worst way. I hate him for it. Let it burn.” I say, raising my glass.

“Let it burn.” He says. I slowly pad over and pick up our first picture together. With a single tear running down my face, I toss it in the flames. It crackles and pops before dissolving to ash.

“Do you want to do one?” I ask him. He shakes his head.

“This is for you.” He says. I finish off my glass of wine and throw another picture in. Another tear rolls.

Over the next few minutes, the pictures are burned. Harry does help me cut up the clothes so they burn easier. I cry a lot, but Harry doesn’t mention it. I sit in front of the fire and watch it burn.

“What about that?” Harry says pointing. I look down at my locket and place my hand around it. “Did you want to keep it?” I open it in my hand and see our pictures. “You don’t have to throw it in if you don’t want to. I just remember the night before he gave it to you. I remember how much he said you would like it.”

“It is my favorite thing. Well, was.” I say. “But he was too. So fuck him.” I say snapping the chain off. I threw it in the fire with my eyes closed. I sit there hugging my knees. I don’t know how long I’m there but I hear Harry sit down beside me. He doesn’t touch me. He doesn’t speak for a minute, but it’s nice to know he’s there.

“I had to burn my favorite journal. My ex, she hated that I had a journal that I didn’t want anyone to read. Not even her. She made me either read it or stick it in the fire. But it was so deeply personal. It had a lot of stuff in there. That’s my therapy. But I burned it. Not because it was even about her, but because I was going to share those things when I was ready. I wasn’t going to be forced. Turns out she was paranoid that I was writing about her cheating. She thought that’s what it was. Some sort of evidence collection.” He said sorrowfully.

“I’m really sorry. That’s so awful and mean. I couldn’t imagine.” I tell him.

“It’s okay. I know what was in there. I’m working on writing it out again, while still journaling about other things.”

“That doesn’t make it right.”

“I know. I’m not making excuses for her. But I really appreciate the journal you got me. It’s really good quality and has lots of pages. It was such an amazing and thoughtful gift. I didn’t even know you remembered me coming over.”

“I don’t know what you guys talked about. I tried to give you privacy by playing games in another room.” I tell him and he gives me a small smile.

“It was a really hard time of my life, and I’m glad I had Kellen to lean on. It sucks losing your best friend, but I’ll be okay. It’s not worth being friends with someone who thinks that’s okay.”

“You really didn’t have to do that for me Harry.”

“I know, but it was such a shitty thing to do. Having been in your position before I knew you probably needed someone after what feels like your whole world falling apart. I know you have Jason’s girlfriend Rachel, but we both know how she is. No offense.”

“None taken. She is great. She can be hard to talk to about stuff like this though. You should have seen us at prom. My girlfriend dumped me the night before and I was such a mess. Rachel was worried about how I was making her look instead of my feelings. She only cares at some surface level. Never deeply.”

“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend. Didn’t we go to the same school?”

“She wasn’t out yet, and I was only out as bi to Rachel. We were going to come out by dancing together at prom. But she called me the night before and said she had to break it off with me. Her parents found out. She had to take care of that, and I understand. She had a shitty home life. It is what it is. 18 seems so distant to me now.”

“That sucks. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay. She’s happy now. We ran into each other at the store the other day. She’s married to a really wonderful woman. Her parents finally came around.”

“Well, that’s good. Not everyone has that kind of luck.” He says. He takes a look at his watch. I see it’s close to 9.

“I’m sorry if I’ve stayed over too long. It’s just nice to have a friend.”

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t have to work until late tomorrow.”

“Are you sure?” I ask. He nods.

“It’s no problem. But you have had a couple of glasses of wine. I know you’re not drunk, but I don’t know how safe you feel to drive.”

“It’s probably best that I don’t. I can walk back. I don’t live super far.

“Millie you’ll freeze to death out there. Let me take you. I’ve only had one glass. I can pick you up tomorrow to come and get your car before I go to work.” He says and I take a minute to think. I nod my head. I put my things in my purse and tell Harry he can keep the wine. I have more at home. I put my coat and boots back on. He walks me to the car and opens my door for me. “Do you have anything specific you want to listen to?”

“Whatever you want to listen to is okay with me.” I say and he types something in his phone.

“This band is my favorite of all time.”

“Good to know.” I tell him with a small smile and he gives me a chuckle in return. It’s a short ride, but he opens my door for me again and helps me to the door. “I really appreciate what you’ve done for me Harry. You’re a good friend. I hope we can hang out again.”

“Me too. Thank you again for the journal Millie.”

“It’s no problem. Text me when you make it back home?”

“Of course. Have a good night.” He says. He waits for me to get inside and shut the door and then gets back in his car. He drives away. I take off my coat and boots and climb straight into bed. I put on a movie and get comfortable. I see Harry text me while choosing a movie that he made it home. And with that, I fall asleep.

- - -

I wake up to a knock on my door. I get up out of bed and quickly try to make my hair look decent. I’m still in the same clothes as yesterday. I run to the door and open it to see Harry in a big, black, winter coat. He is holding two coffees in his hand. I invite him in.

“I didn’t know how you took your coffee, so I guessed on the sugar and cream. You’ll have to let me know how I did.” He said. “Also, good morning.”

“Good morning.” I say, still rubbing sleep from my eyes.

“How are you feeling?” He asks.

“So tired.” I tell him before I take a sip of the coffee. “Also, this is perfect.” I compliment.

“Good. I didn’t know if you were awake yet so I can come back if you want to get your car after you eat or what you want to do.”

“Have you eaten? I don’t really feel like cooking but we could go somewhere if you want?” I suggest.

“Sounds good to me.” He says. I go back to my room to get dressed, taking the precious coffee with me.

When I come out in just some jeans and a sweater I see Harry look me up and down.

“Doesn’t look okay? I just threw it together.”

“You look good Millie.” He says.

“Are you sure? This is an old sweater.”

“I’m sure.” He says with a smile. I tie my hair up with a scrunchie and put on my ear muffs and coat. Harry opens the door and helps me outside. He makes sure I don’t slip on the ice as we make our way to his car. He opens the door again for me. He climbs in and we are off.

“What time do you have to be at work?” I ask him.

“Noon.”

“Where do you work again?”

“I work for the animal shelter in town, but on weekends when I’m off work I’m do shows at some of the local bars and stuff.”

“Shows?”

“I write music.” He says.

“That’s so cool! I didn’t know you did that.”

“I wish I could do that full time but the money isn’t there.”

“Maybe one day it will be though.” I tell him.

“Yeah. I hope. I love writing music and getting to perform. I have a YouTube channel too. Just trying to get myself out there.”

“You got plans to travel around the world one day with your music?”

“That would be the dream.” He says as we pull into the breakfast place he chose. I beat him to opening my door and we laugh. He grabs our table for us and the waitress brings some menus. He orders some banana pancakes and I get strawberry cream filled crepes.

“Got a bit of a sweet tooth?” He asks with a smile.

“Maybe.” I joke with him.

“Now that you’re more awake, how are you?”

“I’m doing okay. I still am hurting about it, but I’m okay considering.”

“Has he tried to message you at all?”

“I blocked him that night. So I wouldn’t know.”

“Oh. Good. Probably for the best.”

“Has he been bothering you and the rest of the group?” I ask and he hesitates. “What?”

“He called me after I got home from dropping you off last night.” He finally says.

“What did he want?”

“He wanted me to get ahold of you. He wants to talk to you. Apologize. Try and fix things. He said he wasn’t the nicest person on the phone with you.” He told me and the ache in my chest that has shrunk a bit has grown back and is even bigger now.

“Yeah. He called me crazy. He blamed me for everything. I’m sorry he called you.”

“I’m sorry he said those things to you. I told him that if you wanted to speak to him to hear him out, you would, but it isn’t my job to force you to talk to him.”

“I don’t want him to apologize because even if he does, there is no fixing what he’s done. He made me feel horrible. I still feel horrible in that way. Like I wasn’t good enough for him, so I’m probably not good enough for anyone. I did my best and it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough.” I told Harry and he looked sad. “I’m sorry if I’m ruining your morning.”

“You could never ruin my morning. And he’s a dick for making you feel that way.” He says as he rests his hand on my hand in the table. “You are enough. You are good enough. What happened wasn’t your fault.”

“Thanks Harry.” I tell him. I glance over to our hands touching in the table. He takes it away when he notices me looking.

“I’m sorry if that was weird. I didn’t mean it to come off like that. I’m not that kind of person who-“

“It’s okay. I didn’t think it was weird. You’re just being supportive.” I tell him. It was a surprise, but it wasn’t weird. It’s was actually kind of nice. After feeling like crap the past few days any kind of touch is nice. A hug would be even better. A hug so tight that it would push the broken pieces of me back into place.

“Still, I don’t want you to think I’m trying to take advantage of your situation.”

“I didn’t think that. It was actually really nice.” I tell him and he doesn’t say anything in return. He just looks at me. He reaches down into his bag and pulls out another gift. “Harry.”

“I’m not trying to spoil you.” He says. “I like to give gifts. But I know it can make some people uncomfortable. If it does please tell me, but I thought you could use one of these too.” He says. He passes me a box. I open it to find a journal with my name printed on the front. I open it up and see a note inside.

Millie,

I hope you are able to confide in this book the deepest parts of yourself that you can’t tell anyone else. Everyone deserves that outlet. But most of all I hope that when you spill those deepest parts of yourself, you have someone, someday that you can trust enough to tell, and they love you anyways.

From H.

I feel myself tear up at the sweet words on the page. It reminds me that this hurt is temporary. I will be loved again. I will love again. This one little note helps the ache that I’ve carried for days lighten so much, that’s it’s hardly even noticeable in this moment.

“Is this okay?”

“Yes. Thank you Harry. But we are gonna have to slow down on the gifts. My wallet can’t keep up.”

“I don’t expect anything in return.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Okay. I’ll slow down, but do you like the journal?”

“I love it.” I tell him.

“Do you want to stay here and write? Or are you ready to go get your car and go home?”

“I think I’ll get my car. I really do appreciate this Harry.”

“It’s no problem.” He says. He pays the bill and I tell him that wasn’t necessary. He says it’s fine and walks me back to the car. He makes sure to beat me to my door so he can open it.

We take our time to get back to his house, just listening to music on the way there and talking about little things. Little details that help us know each other better. He doesn’t like mustard or skateboarding. He wants to get more tattoos. Music is his whole life.

I feel a bit sad when we do arrive at my car and I have to go, but he says we can hangout whenever, just to text and see when he’s free. I climb in my car and drive away, looking for music to play.

I find his YouTube channel and start listening to his songs. So deeply personal and so heartfelt. I can tell he puts his soul into his music. I find myself sitting in my car even when I’ve arrived back home. I do eventually have to get out because it’s freezing outside. But he has such a beautiful voice. He sounds like a professional. I can’t seem to turn his music off.

When I get settled inside, music still playing, I sit down at my dining room table and open the journal. I find a pen and go to the second page.

I’ve never been one to write. But Harry is right. There are some things so deep and personal that you can’t tell anyone else. Not until you know it’s safe. Harry has been in my life a little over a year now, but we haven’t really talked until this week. Not only is he the only person I really can talk to, he is the safest person I’ve ever met. I don’t have to fake anything. He is so honest. And his music speaks to my heart in a language I’ve never heard before but I understand. And it’s heartbreak. I’ve been hurt before, but not in the way Kellen has hurt me. Bur thought it all, I know I’ll be okay.

I continue to write when I get a notification on my phone.

New music from Harry Styles: Always Been You Somehow

I click on it and a video starts to play. It must have been recorded a few days ago, because his outfit is different.

- - -

Masterlist Series Part 1 Part 3

[welcome-to-roomba-fazbender]

Hello Charlie, it's 🔥🍒 here again,,

I guess I appear alot of the time in yer ask box, but my friend wanted to ask you something - (the same one that wanted to murder you a few days or weeks back)

What do you think of Legacy Jack ? They just want to know this, aaand all I can for now get for ya, for now - is slippers, my dearest apologies.

[The anon said, handing over 4 pairs of slippers.]

- 🔥🍒

"Please get me soap next time I need a drink with the shoes you know."

"Anyway thank you kindly for the slippers I'ma make smores out of these, using chocolate scented candle wax, bricks as the crackers and use the slippers as marshmallow's."

"Why is legacy jack's name in pink? he's orange! anyway I don't like the guy, anyone who kills some kiddins in a freddy's location is a bad cookie in my book"

"honestly I just think the guy's a huge henry miller simp!"

"it's disgusting."

[finch-the-foolish]

Alright, so uh I kinda took a hard left into AU land, based off an old thing I was working on, but uh here @dash-dash-archi, have a Mumbo rejoining reality. Not exactly what was requested, but uh it's certainly a version of them reuniting-

A Fractured Rift

By Lqmie, inspiration credits to @/dash-dash-archi

Asleep. For so long, he had been asleep. A part of the Nothing. A part of the void.

And then he awoke.

Mumbo, formerly Jumbo, stumbled back into reality, the twisted fabric of the universe tearing just long enough to drag him from the depths of slumber.

It was with a sudden starkness that he came to Be, flickering to life. There was no flashing of light, no swirl of dark. It was simple. One moment he was Not. The next, he Was.

Mumbo gasped into being, dark eyes flitting open before shutting again, pained by the bright lights of reality.

Slowly, his gaze returned, slightly blurred, illuminated by a bright glow, swirling shades of purple and pink. It took him a moment longer for his mind to process it all, for him to drag himself free of the Nothing once and for all.

Slowly, steadily, the world filtered in. He was standing, he now realized, dressed in the same black suit and dress pants as always. A greyish floor, marred by streaks of blue-green sat beneath him. He stared at them, unsteady on the rough floor. What it was, exactly, he wasn't quite certain. It looked… familiar, in a way, yet not, in so many others.

His gaze rose, taking in the room around him. A massive cavern, with countless supports and beams holding its ceiling in place. Machinery filled parts of it, a bizarre contraption set up in one corner, a series of large, colourful glass tubes in another. A long desk, covered in all manner of papers and books, was shoved against a wall.

The blue-green vines seemed to cover much of this, crawling steadily across the stone bricks and strange machines. Something about them unsettled him, and Mumbo adjusted his footing to avoid standing on them.

It took him many moments longer to register the centerpiece of the room: a huge screen, dwarfing even his tall frame, with a pair of pale blue eyes staring out from it, accompanied by a moustache not unlike his own.

This too was familiar, eerily so. A name filtered into his still-clouded mind, a name he had not thought of in a long time.

Grumbot?

Confused, Mumbo took a step forward, foot landing awkwardly on the snaking vines. He let out a pained noise, ankle twisting slightly.

A moment later, a movement drew his attention down, just before the grand machine.

There, a figure stood, its head snapped towards him. Many, many eyes seemed to stare at him, glinting purple in the dim light.

He stared at it a moment, frozen under the multitude of gazes. After a few moments, though, the eyes blinked out, vanishing swift into the dark as though they'd never existed at all.

Only now could he see the figure–fairly short, a pair of feathery, colourful wings sticking out from their red sweater. Dirty blond hair hanging over a pale face.

Grian. It was.. it was him. Or, rather, it looked like him. There was something wrong, a something Mumbo could barely identify as he scanned over his friend's small figure.

Then, he realized. Twisted vines, those horrid blue-greens and pulsing cobalts, corrupting much of his small form. Twisting along his right wing, seeming to have fully consumed his right arm, leaving a series of long, deep blue claws at his hand. He could see it crawling up his leg as well, the bird-like talon and leg caught up in the webbing.

It seemed to edge up his neck from beneath his collar, twisting up onto his face and covering most of its right side. The eye–eyes? no, eye–there was naught but a bizarre blue glow.

The pair just stared at each other a moment, a strange horror hanging in the air between them. Then, Grian opened his mouth, a soft whisper pulling from his lips. It felt nearly inaudible against the oppressive silence surrounding them both.

"Is it really you?" he whispered, eyes flitting about as they scanned over him. "Or are you Someone Else?"

Mumbo frowned. "What.. what do you mean, 'someone else'? What's going on? What's wrong with you? Where.. am I?"

Grian's gaze held, a sad look crossing his face. "It's been so long," he murmured. "And you never came back.. Did you come back? Is this this you? Or are you Someone Else?"

"What? I- I don't understand, Grian, what do you mean by me being this me? I'm not this me or that me, I- I'm me." Mumbo ran a hand through his hair, frustration building alongside his confusion. He didn't understand. He didn't understand any of this. He didn't know why everything was different, why his friend was acting, looking so strange, why there seemed to be a space of Nothing still lingering within his mind.

He didn't understand.

Mumbo barely heard his friend's voice over the swirling storm of noise and questions spinning through his head.

"That will have to do, then."

He startled, questions sputtering out in a rush. "What will have to do? What do you mean? What are you-"

He was cut off as something suddenly latched onto his shoulder, dark vines twisting across his arm. Mumbo let out a yelp, straining against it even as another few vines grabbed his other hand.

He watched, confused and horrified, as he was dragged up next to where this strange not-Grian stood, staring up at the screen before them.

It was even more massive here, two glowing squares staring down at them like a pair of awful eyes. Its moustache, he had to admit, was quite grand in its design, strangely similar to his own. A glance at its sides showed redstone still sticking out of the casing, though halfheartedly covered up by bits of copper and warped wood.

This was a Grumbot, indeed. One he did not create.

Mumbo looked over at Grian, flinching as the skulk released him. "What's going on? Gri- what did you do? Why is there another Grumbot? Wha-"

"Silence." The snappish tone, so unlike the Grian he knew, silenced the man immediately.

Grian turned, staring up at the machine. He didn't pull out a diamond, or a paper, or anything at all, despite the slot in the control panel that stood before them, presumably for such a use.

He just took a moment, gathered his thoughts, and spoke.

"Is he the version you wanted?"

After a few moments, and a short wiggle of the Grumbot's moustache, a slip of paper fell from the slot.

Gri didn't move, nor glance at the paper, but still his brow furrowed.

"No. We aren't creating another mayor. Mumbo is here. That should be enough."

Another pause. Another paper.

"I'm sorry- I can't. I can't pull him through. I understand this isn't him, I understand this isn't where you wanted to be, but I-"

Grian tensed suddenly. His eyes widened, for a moment seeming to multiply. Then he let out a shaky sigh.

"We will have to settle," he whispered. Another paper dropped a moment after.

He did not look at it, instead turning to Mumbo, who'd stood there in a sort of shocked, confused silence.

"We should be going now. Even if you aren't really here, even if you are Someone Else, you've still missed.. so much. I've seen.. so much.." The last few words were quieter, softer, a sadness weaving through their sound.

He shook his head. "You still have your elytra, yes?"

Mumbo, who only now realized it was there, gave an unsteady nod in response.

"Good." Grian handed him several rockets, before unfolding his wings and launching into the air, out of the cave.

Mumbo hesitated a moment, staring into the shadows, into the strangely familiar glow of.. of..

The Rift.

He shuddered, turned quickly away, and opened the elytra, soaring on false wings out of the cavern.

Whatever this was, wherever he was, it certainly was not where he was meant to be. Certainly not. Perhaps he was Somewhere Else.

[the-firebird69]

Freya Ridings - Castles (Official Video)

Chateau Novella 

The name speaks volumes not really. And it does if you say it in English it's like a book and it is a novel thing this is a very big house and they see weird things about the size like it's 7000 square feet which is not true it's more like 14 or 15,000 square feet it's pretty large and it's hefty and it has a lot of features in it that I like it looks like they have the back end as the front but I talked to some people and they said that you would have a rear entry for day to day use that you don't drive around in front of your house. I thought that was strange and it's weird that we didn't know that. Can see it in movies they're always kind of approaching through the shrubbery and stuff. And walking up the back way I mean it looks a little dumpy and it looks broken up here not dumpy but you can see that it's very classy and you've got some decks and things with ornate Railings in a carport with a balcony above so you can wave to someone LOL and yeah he'd be yelling at me or me and him did you get this at the store and check the list yes I said how can you remember it I said I got it and so on. Everybody laughs but they all go through it. So he just wanted to make sure and OK. It's important stuff I say. Look here and you can see the fountain feature, And there's garages and there's a patio it's really a courtyard they don't have anything in it but we put stuff there I guess and this little roadway. They really show almost one garage only but it might be a double wide and probably different and would have to have another building and he says you could put another one and you might wanna put a walkway above.  Enclosed. That's kind of cool because he thinks the kitchens on the second floor and it is. Those things are nice and we would get that kind of stuff together there's a few more things these this house that ceilings look like there about 12 foot which is not quite big enough and so we would have to think about that we have to think about 12 foot and yeah that's true too 10 foot's kind of huge it's very big and I should be limiting to probably what they said was 9 foot maximum so work but the doors need to be bigger that's interesting. So we have to talk about the period but here we go she's singing I'm gonna build castles and she seems to be very energized and the other girls too working with her and were wondering when and where this is and what they're talking about and we think it's coming up and it's probably after the cities are kind of destroyed'cause we're talking about the rubble of their love and areas of theirs that are crap and he says you can reconstitute a lot of things and even though they're rundown and ruined buildings they would be part of the new ones. He's kind of smiling a little and says that's how you do it and you make a brick walkway or two or wall up by the patio or Veranda and she likes that too so we're gonna get to this and we are going to use our smarts and these buildings in the video are not the ones from Pink Floyd the wall LOL and they turn into stupid people that is gross and they shouldn't do it but they're trying to attract max and really I don't know what kind of Mac that would attract they have a formula yours is not gonna be better but then again he says if it's close they might try and go there and see how he got it and that might be the angle but really he gets really beat up after that. And we are talking about this occasionally and this is the House and they're saying that it's Mar a lago in that case has been postponed and it's kind of getting pushed out constantly and now everybody sees why and why there's a kinks those people were aware of what the problem was but now it is going to change and if they don't adapt it will be the end of it. Some areas are requesting these already they're hiring builders and building places but we're gonna start building huge housing areas massive ones and we're going to incorporate houses and these would be part of the housing and these would be part of the housing complexes and they're not tracked homes but there would be a series of mansions. We would like ours to be a little more white than gray off white maybe not even off white gray. This is the style of Castle it was built in Germany and they're saying it's more like a townhouse with castle features and it does look like that and it probably is what it is and I said it is and David lived in the castle at some point so I'm sure they'll probably be up to that and someone said New York and that was my husband and they said that probably would be the case. So we're going to build these things and we're going to have to probably be forced into it but by everybody and ourselves because we need to live somewhere so I'm kind of looking forward to it and we have to get prepared and start to work towards it. They're not really hired that much to do stuff anymore and they're not doing things themselves and they own the company and it's kind of not doing anything right now but it sounds like she gets up and does it this is I think from the future and people might know better than us.

Hera

we do understand when this video was made. It's kind of like the Hawthorne Mall everyone thought it's in the future and you go there and you can see some of the graffiti. Not really but they did a special on it and showed that the graffiti was there. Go there you can find signs you have to look real close. So screwing around with that and really they get messed up by it didn't know what the mall meant I mean they're horrible. So there's that and also they were after the Queen's job. And it didn't work and then they're really not into building stuff they're a disaster right now the other girls are doing a little better there's some BJA and they want to build things. some of them are builders and they know it they were building stuff for quite awhile lily is a builder and she says I can build that without a problem and he says want to go through a testing phase with the mastic. It doesn't really have to fuse but it certainly has to hold together and not cope out with water so she wants to test the block and see what is made out of and people are going to try and find out what it is. We're going ahead now and we're going to release this for contract no but we are going ahead and building housing complexes and if you will ask for these we can build them quite easily and we know how to build the block walls and we will help get the right materials for others when they come time to do theirs. We are in the mood to help build we have big construction companies some people know who we don't really say but we're doing it and we're getting ready to purchase a couple more. And these companies are huge and they're gonna work. This is actually coming up a lot quicker than people think it might even be as soon as September. So let's get rolling everybody we gotta get ready for all sorts of things

Thor Freya

We have to be ready to wear our dress clothing and be there and look sharp and everything so I get that it's gonna be gayla events celebrations all sorts of things time the lawn mowing timed. The whole thing.. You did hear it. I'm gonna go ahead and get ready for the next few phases right now we're entering into the Revolutionary War reenactment headlong and the Civil War reenactment back to back. And And we do see that she is dismayed she's got a lot of support and a lot of people are wishful about it and our son and daughter say if it doesn't work for the reasons we think it won't which is going to be pressure can can handle the pressure it's like humanity his deaf and blind but he's your friend and she says I know that they're gonna work together and he's got stuff for you to do and my husband will help make that happen if there's an issue she thanks him and says good but first we have to get through Tommy F possibly she figures it out that what I'm saying it might happen so I'm gonna show why. And that was Hera the last two sentences. There's some real good reasons mostly there are a group of small and they're going to get the tarnation beat out of them. we're moving on to those phases but we have a lot of destruction coming and the radiation plumes might be here as early as late Wednesday afternoon which is tomorrow so everybody be prepared because those winds very fast and we noted that they're warmer and they stay way up there and they go way up there and they settle when they hit the cool and warmth difference of the peninsula it's warm in the peninsula it's cool in the ocean and it's flying along and there's disturbing winds up there and it drops. And yeah the ship is gonna get irradiated and it's part of a solution it gets hit pretty good with it then it gets hit from the other side only hours apart we think and then it starts to lose certain types of parts and it will have to move to repair. And people are going to try and keep it out. This is coming up very soon

Nuada Arruanna

I know it actually breaks down and you have to land and I might have to do that but I might move the other ship in but yeah that's gonna weaken us and I do see what happens no but if I do that the Mac proper might move down and yeah this is not good.

timmy f

OK it's open ended and we're supposed to do something it says no you can't they can't either 'cause I supposed to control the weather so here comes that storm pay back as a **** and it really is

tommy f

Olympuos

[ignitingwriting]

Igniting Writing ‘Families and Friendships’ Contest 2023, Submission by Anoushka

£5.99

The first January snow had begun to fall on the streets of Frostholm. The roads were coated in a layer of ice, with footprints dotted around.

It was quite early in the morning. However, many people had woken up and were starting their day, just like a young artist named Jackson Cooper. He was not completely covered in snow because he had cleverly laid his worn mattress and thin blanket out underneath a shop building, but his other belongings were completely soaked. He did not think much of this because, since his parents had kicked him out of the house a year ago, he had been living on the streets and was used to things like this happening.

Jackson was in his early 20s, but was completely isolated. His only family had kicked him out and his former friends had gone to university and had successful careers. They were not interested in being friends with him anymore. He was nothing but a beggar to them.

He picked up his wet jumper and squeezed the water out. Then he picked up his mattress and folded up the blanket and went to sit out in the snow. He sat under a statue of a lion in the town square and drew out the most precious thing he owned: a small square sketchbook and a tiny blunt pencil.

He had always carried these around in his pocket, even when he was not living on the streets. In the book he had drawn many designs for buildings which he wished he could bring to life.

His favourite was the house he had drawn. He wanted to live in that house. It was a huge mansion with a giant fountain in front of it. The double doors which welcomed guests in were lined with gold carvings. The windows, embellished with soft, pearl-white curtains, were dotted around each of the red brick walls.

Inside, a huge hallway ran through the house, a path to follow to get to the various rooms inside. A small room in the corner to house his future rescue dog was also drawn onto the rough pages. Jackson knew how horrible it was on the streets and hoped that in the future he could rescue a dog of his own and shower it with love and affection. The sketchbook was so small that he could not fit a whole drawing of his dream house on one page, but he spread his illustrations and diagrams evenly onto around 20 pages.

On this particular morning, Jackson was drawing another one of his creative ideas – a museum. He was just finishing drawing the many sculptures and statues inside when a little girl in a pink coat and a green knitted hat walked towards him.

She dropped a crisp five pound note in front of him and said, “It’s half of my birthday money. My mum said I could do what I wanted with it so�� there you go, sir!” She grinned at him and then asked, “Is it hard, you know, living on the streets and everything? My mum says –”

But just then the little girl was interrupted by her mother, who told her she had to hurry if she wanted to get to school on time. She took one look at Jackson, turned her nose up at him and walked off, telling her daughter not to go talking to “shabby people of that sort”.

Jackson was delighted. He looked down at his precious money and ran to the nearest art shop. He was used to being hungry and did manage to produce some sort of food on most days. Besides, to him, art was more important.

‘Why spend money on food when I could on a new pack of pencils?’ he thought to himself. After browsing around in the shop for an hour he came across a decent box of pencils. There was one of every colour in the box – around 8 pencils. He proceeded to the counter and gave the pencils to the shopkeeper.

“That’ll be £5.99, sir!” he said.

Jackson stared at the man and then at the money in his hand. He was 99p short. He turned to look at the shopkeeper and sighed.

“I’m sorry, I can’t afford this, Mr. Can I just leave these pencils at the counter while I go and look for a more affordable choice?”

The shopkeeper nodded and Jackson turned away and was about to walk into the pencil section of the shop when a lady called out to him.

“I’ll pay for it. How much is it?”

“I have most of the money,” Jackson said to her hopefully. “I just need 99 more pence.”

“No, silly. I asked for the full price, not how much you need.” She looked at him dead in the eye.

“I m-mean it is five p-pounds and 99 pence but you really d-don't need to –” he stammered.

She glared at him before he could finish, at the same time handing the cashier the money.

“I myself am an artist,” she said. “I know how much it means to have good supplies.”

She walked out of the shop, leaving Jackson over the moon with a pack of fresh, sharp wooden pencils in his cold hands.

Jackson still couldn’t stop thinking about the encounter a week later. He was not used to kindness and could not help feeling so grateful towards the woman. He was sitting in his usual place under the lion when he saw something. A person in a black hoodie and grey joggers was doing graffiti on the wall in front of him. The formerly dull, grey-ish wall was now showered in bright and vibrant colours.

The spray bottle in the person’s hand was releasing a beautiful yellow pigment and, as Jackson watched, the person finally stood back to admire their work. Jackson was in awe. He simply had to talk to this person, whoever they were. He ran up to them, leaving his belongings under the statue and tapped them once on the shoulder. The person turned around swiftly, accidentally spraying colour into the snow. It turned out to be a woman with black hair with streaks of pink in it and a very familiar face.

“It’s you!” Jackson gasped. It was the lady from the shop who had bought him those pencils. “I-I didn’t know y-you would be such a good artist!” he gawped at the painting again. He tried to thank her for the pencils again and complement her artwork and tell her how much the pencils meant to him all at once, but the words came out as a jumble of odd sounds.

“It’s fine, you’re good” she laughed. “I’m Rachel, by the way.” She held out her hand, only to realise it was covered in red paint and hastily took it down again.

“I’m Jackson,” he said. “I’m sorry, I am poor and homeless and just can’t pay you back at the moment.”

“No worries! I wasn’t expecting any money back whatsoever, Jackson. You carry on making art with those pencils and don’t think about the money.” She grinned at him. “What do you draw anyway?”

“Mainly sketches of buildings. They used to be in grey but, since the pencils you got me, they are all colourful. You want to see?” he asked tentatively.

Rachel nodded and followed him to under the statue. He picked up the sketchbook and she flipped through the book, her eyes wide with pleasure.

“That’s a lovely house. I wish I could live there! You know, if I had the money I would buy some of these. Do you sell your art?”

“No. I didn’t think anyone would appreciate my art much. I guess I could try!”

So from that day on, Jackson worked hard with his precious pencils and notebook. However, he did not have much income just yet. In fact, he had only earned around one pound, but gradually that pound turned into 10, and he went out and got himself a bigger sketchbook. His art changed from just buildings to faces and animals and a couple had even asked him to draw them standing together as a portrait. They were very pleased with the result and gifted him some watercolours and paint brushes.

Jackson refined his techniques with paint and soon was creating art in many mediums, not just pencil sketches. Life got much better for Jackson from then and he had even started to meet up with Rachel more often. Both of them had forgotten about the money he owed her by now, but their friendship was stronger than ever. They were still on the poorer side but they were doing well in life.

Rachel informed Jackson that she had been offered a job at a local coffee shop and asked him if he wanted to join her. He was not in desperate need for money but could do with a little more, so that October they both started working in ‘Cath’s Coffee Shop’ and earned some good wages. Jackson still drew sketches and painted from time to time and Rachel’s murals brought joy to the town because they were so beautiful to look at. This carried on for a long time. They both became successful and were happy in life.

--

10 Years Later

Jackson Cooper was sat on his front porch one summer morning, a sketchbook in his hand and his rescue Border Collie at his feet. The fountain in his front yard was shimmering in the sun and the gates to his mansion were wide open, because Jackson was expecting a visitor.

“RACHEL!” he yelled and leapt up to go and hug her. Rachel had also bought her own house but, because Jackson did not live on the streets anymore, they did not bump into each other as often.

“JACKSON! CALLIEEEEEEE!” she called and ran towards him. (In case you were wondering, Callie is Jackson’s Border Collie dog.)

“Come in!” Jackson said. He made them both cups of tea. The kitchen had pictures of his artwork on the walls and Rachel took a moment to admire them.

“I missed you both!” Rachel was stroking Callie.

They chatted for a while about their lives and how their art was doing. They had both moved on from the coffee shop and were doing well in their own businesses. Jackson was famous since a newspaper article had been written about him and Rachel, about his journey from a homeless man to a rich business owner.

Jackson’s parents who had kicked him out called him to apologise and towards the end of the phone call, they were asking him for money.

Jackson replied with a smooth, “Did you give me money when I asked for it? Nope,” and cut the call promptly.

His old friends had tried similar techniques but Jackson cut them all off. He had many new friends now, much, much better ones. Rachel was just as successful. She ended up staying for dinner and after a huge meal she said her goodbyes and left the house.

As her expensive car purred off into the distance, Jackson thought about how much Rachel had helped him. If it weren’t for the money she had bought the pencils with, he would not be the man he is today. He realised that, although his biological family were not there for him, he didn’t need them because his friends were his family.

Jackson then remembered something. He ran out of the house yelling after Rachel and her car came to a halt. Panting, he stood there in front of Rachel.

“What?” she asked, ducking out of the car in the middle of the road.

Jackson held out his hand, breathing heavily.

Rachel looked down at his hand smiled at him. In his palm, there was exactly £5.99.

[pinkpinkmermayyy]

PREPARE URSELF FOR THIS RANT

okay so here’s the whole au: it’s winter break, and Rio and Jeff decide to take a “nice family vacation” out in the country, and rent the pink palace apartments, with two ex actresses and pole dancers from the 1920s who are now old ladies with multiple dogs named Miss Kwan and Miss D’Angelo who live in the below part of it, and a Russian man who’s kind of crazy who lives upstairs claiming to have a huge “mouse circus” with him. Gwen, who is wybie here, lives with her dad but isn’t allowed inside the pink palace, because her dad said it was “dangerous.” It wasn’t even permitted for people with kids to rent the place until he allowed the Morales family in.

Rio and Jeff are pretty overprotective over Miles, not letting him explore for a long time and not too far away, and they nearly panicked when they saw the rashes on his palms because of the poison oak dowsing rod. They also do NOT trust the neighbors, especially not the “crazy man” upstairs. Miles gets pretty sick of it, and the same can be said for when he gets that button eyes doll that looks exactly like him, jordans and all, which causes his dad to become concerned. Though it was from that gwanda weirdo, so maybe he should be suspicious.

One night, Miles hears some squeaking by his door, to then find a cute little mouse running away when it noticed him looking at it. Miles pursuits it, following it all the way to the small door that he asked his dad to unlock before, only to find a brick wall.

But when he opened the door this time, it wasn’t bricked up. Instead, a long, glowing blue passageway extends itself as the mouse jumps and chirps in it, walking through the other door.

Miles, being the nine year old, and pretty bored, boy he is, lets his curiosity take over and walks through the passageway. He’s surprised to not only find a near identical replica of the pink palace, but a version of his Mami and dad but with button eyes, claiming to be his “other parents.” The story progresses the same as the movie from there, with some elements that I liked from the book hehe.

ALSO HOBIE IS THE CAT HERE BTW!!!!

more other rio!!!!

@ace-and-sleepdeprived @chessbox @darksidescorner @fancylala4 @gltzpzy @hoe-bie @skullghoulz @sp1derw1re @thecrowandtherose @t1r4misuu @the-cat-and-the-birdie