#but please feel free to drop by if you like

[kenwio]

Joker's kid! reader : how batfamily would react on them trying to end their life

Route : recovered dove

Please read warnings before reading this one!

If you do not feel like reading it, it's okay! (Spoilers will be at the end of this part) Please have tea or hot cocoa, and read relax 💖 and remember there are people who care and support you 💖 I'll be posting more fluff in future parts

Warnings : heavy topics, mentions of death, implications of self-destructive behavior and suicidal behavior, hurt/comfort, traumatized characters.

Idea for this part from this ask here . I also used this idea for comfort part form here

Author's note : I'm including this part in route: Recovered dove only because I want to show that mental healing of Joker's kid is a long way, it had ups and downs, but in the end they have family who acres about them now.

You don't know what exactly triggered it. Maybe it was the fact that everyone started discussing break out in Arkham asylum instead of the usual breakfast convention, maybe it was how Bruce said he didn't have time for you, maybe it was how Alfred was distant today, so you thought something wrong, maybe it was that Dick ignored you today, maybe it was that Jason's aggressive demeanor when you saw him, maybe it was Tim's comment when you brought him coffee, maybe it was Damian's harshness when you meet him near your room today.

That all made you feel so lost. To see them all being unwelcoming to you again was overwhelming. Is it because your father is free again, and they thought you'd be helping him? Wait if your father is free... he will want you back. You don't want back! No! You don't want to be with him again! You do not want to be experimented on again, be beaten up by him again. You thought it was finally over, that you were taken away from that life, never to return. You thought you found family! Why does he have to ruin your life again? He drove her away from you already, the only person who protected you before Batman and his birds, the only person who was your family before them, your mom ... and now he is doing it again; he is taking your family away again! But were they your family? You thought that Bruce was thinking about you as his own child, you thought that Alfred was proud of your progress, you thought that Dick was happy to spend time with you, you thought that Jason was enjoying your shared reading time, you thought that Tim liked to study with you, you thought that Damian finally accepted you. Were you wrong? Was it all a lie? Did they want to use you as bait for your father? Or did they think you would be able to tell them something about him? Was that a reason why they got close to you? But now that they see they were wrong, and after they made sure you didn't know anything, they decided to drop the act?

Was it all a happy dream that's just ended? If it was a dream, you don't want to wake up to the nightmare of your previous life. You can't take the suffering anymore. You need to make it stop to end it, to end it all.

You didn't know how long you were in you were in your thoughts, when you got up. You wanted to live. The room that became your own, became your safe space now felt like JOKE. You needed to get away from it. You struggled to open the window, as it required much strength from your shaking hands. But you were persistent in your efforts to open it, and in the end window opened. You looked down, it was quite high, and you knew that for your body, which was unlike theirs, weak and fragile, it would be enough. You've seen a grown man die when he fell from his high back in a crime alley, so for you, it will definitely be enough. Oh, crime alley, you don't want to go there. You don't want to return to life with Joker. You stood up on the windowsill, looking at the green grass down, feeling the cold night wind against your skin. Your head felt heavy, ringing in your ears just made it all worse. You took one step, and you felt incredibly calm. You took another step, only to be pulled away from the windowsill on the ground and held up. You didn't register the loud voice, the way someone was shaking you. You just sit there staring at nothing in particular, not even able to cry because of how tired you are.

In the meantime, Damian, the one who pulled you away from the window, had already called everyone and was trying hard to make you snap out of it. Yet it was not helping. When Bruce arrived, he moved Damian, who was looking at you with extreme worry, aside. Bruce recognized your expression; he had seen it before - thousand-yard stare - your own mind was protecting you from whatever you were feeling. As he was trying to help you, holding you against him, trying to soothe you, the rest of the family arrived in your room, seeing scared Damian, worried Bruce, and you... you looked so broken. It was too hard on them all

A few hours later, when you fell asleep after you came to your senses and cried for a while, Bruce and others started figuring out what made you feel this way. And it didn't take long; they are a family of detectives, after all. And this all made them feel really bad, guilty. As it turned out, on this day, you were too unlucky to notice only the bad sides of things.

There wasn't any breakout In Arkham asylum. Turns out, the lead they were investigating turned out to be false. Bruce, indeed, was busy, but he failed to communicate this in the normal way: he only added that he would try to make some only by the time you stepped away, which he didn't notice. Alfred was distant because he had a migraine today, but he still wanted to work around the house; there were too many chores to be done in the Wayne manor. Dick didn't mean to ignore you, he was too tired after his few nights of being up and he just failed to notice your quiet presence, being too busy thinking about his bed. Jason was behaving aggressively because of the lead about break out from Arkham asylum, which was the one that he followed for his case, and since it was false; it took the case he was working on back to square one. Tim actually was mumbling about his case, quietly cursing criminals, and not you; just like Jason, he had too much trouble because of that stupid lead. Damian stepped in at the last second to help you avoid stumbling and falling when you were waking in your room, which resulted in his harshness to you, but you were too deep in your panic to notice that his gaze was more worried than angry. If Damian wouldn't have been worried and decided to check up on you... non of them want to think about it.

They spend night in your room and in the morning, they talked to you, communicating how things actually were the previous day, and expressing how important you were to them.

It was a shock to everyone. Even Bruce thought it was going fine, that your session was working and helping you, that you were feeling safe, and that your relationships with the rest of the family were getting better. And he knew that what happened damaged the whole family because they almost lost you. He regretted that he didn't phrase his words correctly, feeling like he failed to show his care for you. He knew he should have been careful with words, he knows how impactful they can be. And since he said he hadn't got time for you he started making time for you. He wants you to know that he cares for you and he will make time for you wherever you need him. His one daily check-up became 2 check-ups, and when he had more free time, he checked up more. He pays extra attention to you. Even your little sneeze will make him worried to the point of examination in a medbay. He stays with you, and sometimes talks with you, encouraging you to open up and share your opinion and feelings. He tries to lessen the influence of "bad guidelines" (that were with you because of Joker) in your head. He helps you talk through your feelings, helps you show them and process them. He reminds you that you are cared for now. And he promises that he will protect you. After hearing you out, learning your fears and insecurities, and when he learned out that most of all you are afraid to go by your father's way, he promises you that he will do everything in his power to prevent you from taking this way. Bruce wants you to be happy, to make good memories. You already got unlucky with your father, who made you experience hell, but Bruce will try to be the best Dad he can for you.

Alfred felt so guilty. He knew you needed care, but he was distracted. He feels like he let you down, by forgetting how fragile and sensitive you are. He knew you were struggling; he had seen it himself. If only he had paid you more attention. But Alfred, better than anyone else, knows that he shouldn't be focusing on the past; he needs to work on the present, and he needs to make sure you feel better. He makes sure to make you more happy while he can. It's always your favorite tea at the tea time you share, with his cookies, of course, which he bakes with you from time to time. It's always your comfort shows or documentaries on TV when you two watch something. He also makes sure no one dares to make you feel uncomfortable, even if it will make him look around like Hawk. But Alfred understands that he can't always be around; that's exactly why he makes sure that he teaches you at least a few techniques that would be able to help with worry and anxiety, and he practices them with you. You are his little star, who may be really quiet but still efficiently lights up his days, and he doesn't want to lose you. When you share that you are afraid your family will reject you, he personally goes to everyone, making sure that they won't be saying something that contains a message. He wants to see you all grown up and happy in the end; he will work hard to make sure your life in Manor will be good.

Even when Dick just heard how Damian called for help for you, he felt shocked, what to say when he saw and understood the situation. What do you mean his baby sibling tried to make their life end when he was blissfully unaware, sleeping in his old room? How? What he missed? Just a few days before, you seemed on your way to becoming the happy sunshine of a kid, and now that has happened? He is your older brother and he missed all the singes?! He needs to sit down. It's too hard to accept this version of reality for him. The reality is that he can lose another member of the family. He knows what it is like to lose a sibling, and he will never want to experience it or feel this pain again. And knowing that it's you who tried to end your life makes it all worse. He tries to understand what pushed you, trying to see what he can do to prevent this from happening. He also tries to distract you from all the negativity in your life with quality time and different activities. The incident shook him hard, and while he hoped to introduce you to cuddles differently, he had to do it now. He needs to make sure you are close, still warm, still safe, still alive. And it seemed like cuddling with him made you calmer; you didn't even realize how touch-starved you were until then. It became a sort of comforting ritual for both of you, cuddling, sometimes just cuddling, sometimes while watching something. While cuddling he often says sweet words of reassurance to you. And while he knows he can't stay in Manor forever, he makes sure you know that he is always here for you, just a call away.

Jason was mad at himself for allowing himself to snap at you earlier. He feels incredible guilt that he was the reason that you were in that state. For a few days after, he could only watch you in your room or living room until he talked about his feelings and the incident (how he calls it because he can't speak that out loud, it physically hurts him to admit it) with Bruce and Dick. He started slowly approaching you, continuing your reading sessions, but also, sometimes, he decided just to start talking with you. He shares with you his experiences in the crime alley, and you share yours; you both know that only you two in the whole family could understand the full horror of this place, and that's aside from the fact that both of you know the full horror of Joker. He says to you that you'll never become like him, because he sees you are different. Jason tries to comfort you, yet he knows he is not ideal in it, but he is willing to try as much as he can just for you. He can understand that you feel lonely; he can only imagine how lonely you get when all the family is busy with vigilante work. It got him thinking, remembering. He remembers times when he was still Robin, and sometimes, when he got hurt, he stayed in his room alone, and. he hated it. Back when Dick gifted him a plushie of a bat, and now, in another attempt to comfort you, he brings this old plushie to you. He tells you that this plushie kept him company and protected him from everything bad, and now it will protect you, and now you'll never be alone anymore; your family's love will be here for you.

Tim was second after Damian to arrive in your room. This sight horrified him. He just froze, in shock. For once, he didn't know how to act or what to do. After everyone made sure you were okay, and his brain began working again, he started to do what he knew best - investigating and researching to find ways of how to help you, trying them with you in the meantime. Art therapy? He tried to hold a few sessions with you. Special games? You both alredy beating third one. Special music? Here is his player, listen when you want. He becomes more attentive to you, noticing every little detail. He knows as a person who likes studies like him, you would want to learn more about your mental health and how to care about yours. He found a way to explain the basics of it all to you in a way that is easier for you to understand, and only when she reads articles (that he chose, of course) about mental health and coping mechanisms. You want to cuddle with him while reading? Good, he will do it (he is happy that Dick showed you how to cuddle and totally not jealous). You want to stay with him while he works? Okay, sure, he is here for you. He makes sure you can ask him anything; he reminds you that you are safe with him and with others. So when you ask about Arkham and your father there he makes sure to show you that Arkham is hard to get out (even if it's not true).

Damian didn't like how it felt to see you on the windowsill. He doesn't like how it feels to see you in this state. He doesn't like fear. But fear made one thing clear: he cares about you. He hadn't understood how important you became until that incident happened. You are his sibling, and even if he did not choose you, even if he was against the idea of you being in the family at first, now he knows you held a place in this family like everyone else. And now he knows that he will do everything in his power to make you safe; he will protect you even from yourself. He asked Bruce to install precautions in your room. He follows you like your shadow everywhere you go. He makes sure that there is no danger in your way. He checks up on how you sleep after patrols. He makes sure to be nicer when he is around you, and he heads to ask Father, Pennyworth, and Grayson how exactly to behave around you. He joins in Tim the research of ways for you to cope with traumas or ways to comfort you, and when he sees articles about how communicating with animals improves mental health, he brings Titus to you, and when he goes for walks with Titis he makes sure to take you on them too since he also found out that walks improve mental health, and since it's walking with Titus it's beneficial in double. He protects you and he cares for you even if he struggles with proving it

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Thank you for reading! Feel free to share your opinion and have a good day 💖

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Tag list :

@socially-embarrassing , @leovergurl , @deathbynarcisstick , @cryptic-arr0w , @lynns-cornerr , @cxcilla ,  @charlotteking23 , @ninihrtss , @lillycore , @pix-stuff , @tfamidoingwithmylife , @linoalwaysknows , @00hellohello00 , @lilithskywalker , @bagofrice , @lenaisaloser , @devilslittlehelper , @camilo-uwu , @l3v1us , @eyeless-kun , @stargazingbutgayer, @wpdarlingpan , @weirdothatreads , @maybea1 @lyla-viper-wayne @amber-content @lizzyzzn

if i forgot to add someone to the tag list, please let me know, and i will add you to the next part

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Spoiler:

Next chapter connected to this (click here) and after that I'll finally write about Joker's kid! reader hair dyeing adventures

[yemmuis]

★ kento presses his palm into the mattress, his breaths coming out in harsh puffs of hot air against your forehead while his free hand squeezes your thigh. hes pushing his weepy tip against your entrance, trying to get you to relax for him while you're whining and denying that it will ever fit.

of course, its fit plenty of times before. you do this every damn time.

"kento, i swear 's gonna split me open this time," you whimper out, trying to squirm away from him. his tip just barely slides inside you, and its enough to make you gasp and fall quiet besides soft mewls and the heaving of your chest. "c'mon, my love, you've done it before, you can take it." he grits out, his nose brushing your pulse point while his hips thrust sloooowly forward. "stretch f'me. there you go." he murmurs, while his cock is stretching your pussy out so good. he feels like hes seeing god, his blushed tip nudging at your guts like hes gonna permanently mold you to the shape of him and ruin you for anyone else.

he'll never say that, though.

his hips shift forward again, and he pushes your legs apart, giving you a soft kiss and trying not to let his composure slip when he finally pushes his hips flush against yours.

"aww, look, see? you took me all the way." he breathes against your ear, kissing down your jaw and smoothing your hair back with his hand. hes always trying to keep his composure, even when he's this damn close to stuffing you full of his cum and babbling about how loud your pussy is when he's fucking you.

no, kento. that would be too harsh, wouldn't it?

"good job, my dear, you're doing so good. there you go, see, i told you she could take me. she always does, hm?" kento speaks softly into your ear, his fingers kneading at your hips while he sets up a steadier rhythm. "will you look at me, please?" he kisses along your collarbone while he speaks, gently sucking, not hard enough to leave a mark on your pretty skin. he doesn't like bruising you. kento presses his lips and tongue against a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, his hips a little rougher than usual with their steady rhythm. "open your eyes. please, i want to see your pretty eyes, beautiful." he whispers into your perspiring skin, and his hips snap up against yours, making you mewl out and claw at his arms. he pulls back from your neck and gently takes your face in his hand, voice husky and ragged. "look at me. go on, my love." and you cant deny him again, hesitantly opening bleary, glossed over eyes. and oh, what a sight your husband is, his eyes lidded and cheeks flushed, lips parted in ragged breathing and his hair sticking to his forehead in messy strands while he stares down at you. his cock practically gushes precum inside you when you look up at him with a fucked out expression, and he cant help but pull you into a sloppy, sticky kiss while jostling your thighs around his hips. his dick slides just a little deeper inside you at the new angle, kissing your g-spot with every thrust while hes swallowing all of your moans with his tongue against yours. kento can feel you squirming under him, twitching and letting out soft moans with every kiss of his tip to your cervix. he physically has to delay his own orgasm just long enough until he knows you've finished, until he cant pull a single more moan or drop of arousal out of you before hes cumming and stuffing you full.

kento reluctantly pulls away from your neck, lips pressing to yours in a clumsy, delirious kiss while he gives one more buck of his hips just to enjoy the way you squirm while his load oozes out of you. "see, my dear...? my beautiful wife always makes it fit for me. I told you it would."

thank you for reading !! this is my first post in a while ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ please reblog to help my stuff reach more people <3 tags :: @beanietopia @valicalliali @gojoscinnamonroll @xixflower @takumasimp @webism @voidnz

[thinemoonshine]

୨୧ 𝓵𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝓶𝐞, 𝓭𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝓵𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝓶𝐞 ୨୧

—⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ in which enhypen find themselves lost, listless in the dark tunnel they’re trapped in—and (y/n) is their light at the end of it

enhypen hyung line x fem!enhypen 8th member contents: fluff, enhypen clinging onto (y/n), men who yearn, crying, mentions of bad media, (y/n) comforts, heartfelt moments, enha and (y/n) are very affectionate and in love (whether platonic or romantic is up to interpretation) type: imagine

note: this work is based off of ૮꒰ྀིthis꒱ྀིა ask! and sorry i only included the hyung line :( for some reason my brain can’t think of continuations

⋆˙𐙚 L.HEESEUNG 𐙚˙⋆

“heeseung?” (y/n) mutters with confusion upon recognizing him through her door monitor.

he did ask if he could come but that was 5 minutes ago, he couldn’t already be here. but the sight of his black-masked face, capped and hooded head and doe eyes peering into the camera prove her otherwise.

she opens the door and heeseung steps inside without a word, not even a greeting and the door locks automatically behind him.

(y/n) looks up at his shadowed mien, unable to see his expression and his silence but she’s not the slightest bit intimidated. if anything, she’s worried.

“everything okay?” she asks and hee stays quiet just a little longer before wrapping his arms around her and resting his cheek against her head.

he says nothing, just continuing to embrace her with a gradually tightening hold by the minute and she hears a small sigh escape him.

she doesn’t need to ask anymore. her hand reaches up to gently pat his back and he only pulls her closer against his chest. her legs are almost dangling, balancing on her toes from the unintentional hoist by heeseung as he clings and she wriggles to at least free her squashed face.

“want something to drink?” she offers and her soft voice albeit muffled rings in his ears like wind chimes and the jarring chaos in his mind goes mute.

his shoulders loosen and body turns limp against her as he drops his head onto her shoulder instead. “please.”

(y/n) chuckles with endearment and runs her hand down the back of his head—lifting his cap and hoodie in the meantime—and he hums at the feeling of her fingers massaging his overheated head.

“come on,” she says and pulls back while cupping his face—his lips jutted from her smooshing his cheeks—and she smiles at the sight of him blinking at her curiously, the knit between his brows now gone. “i have a lot of options to choose from.”

she spins on her heels again to walk ahead with a drop of her hands but just after her first step, he can feel a hand tugging against the back of her shirt. her chest lightens at the knowledge of heeseung clinging onto the fabric and the image in her head makes her chuckle and she continues on her way—not forgetting to offer him one of her hands from him to (very happily) accept by interlocking his fingers with.

⋆˙𐙚 P.JONGSEONG 𐙚˙⋆

clink!

the glass cup chimes slightly when (y/n) puts it down on jay’s bedside table.

he’s caught the flu—a really bad one—and seeing as how the others have gone out, she’s the only one available to take care of him which, in her opinion, isn’t bad at all. as much as she knows how capable the others are, she’s not sure they can nurse him without getting infected themselves or making it worse.

(y/n) gently pats jay’s heated skin with a damp towel and he stirs at that. his brows knit and lips part as a small strained breath escapes before his heavy eyes flutter open by the slightest to peer at her.

“sorry…” he croaks suddenly while she’s putting away the towel and she looks at him with soft confusion.

“what for?”

jay says nothing at first, tired and he gulps thickly. “for…burdening you. it’s your off day.”

(y/n) smiles at this and she cups his cheek—him leaning into the touch as he looks up. “i wouldn’t know what to do anyway so i’d rather take care of you any day.”

“you’re just saying that,” jay scoffs weakly, amused, but he can’t ignore the flutter he feels inside.

“i’m being honest!” the girl claims and pulls her hand away to cool his face down with the towel again. the noticeably heating skin making her worry.

jay doesn’t go back to sleep after, instead opting for watching her work as she combs his hair out of his face, fix his sheets and softly massages his hands and arms so they won’t be sore.

and suddenly, he finds his vision blurring as hot tears cascade down the corners of his eyes. his jaw’s clenched tight and he turns his face away to hide himself—a futile attempt.

“are you hurting? where is it?” she asks, concern painted on her face as she starts to run her feathery touch across his arms and shoulders to find the source.

jay only shakes his head and he inhales sharply to suppress his emotions but his debilitated self hinders him from following through. a tear turns to many and he swallows a sob into a croak.

“jay…?” (y/n) calls gingerly and cups his cheek to turn his face towards her—heart breaking at the sight of his glossy eyes and flushed, wet skin. “what’s going on?”

“it’s just t-tough,” he says vaguely. “i’m missing a lot. i—everything is just so hard. to catch up, i—”

he’s cut off by a strained sob and he brings the heels of his palms to press on his eyes. he’s not want to hide his tears, knowing that it’s a normal human thing and if any of the members was to cry, he’d rather them show it rather than hide.

but never did he imagine that what would set him off is the unabashed, limitless comfort that (y/n) spoils him with. never could he guess that the tenderness of her touches and attentiveness are what would wreck his dam—freeing the untamed turbulence of his mind.

it’s not just about being sick, missing schedules and having to catch up. it’s deeper than that—and all it took was (y/n) just being to unlock that.

and she knows.

“stop, i’m sweaty,” jay groans and pulls himself away when (y/n) started to lay herself beside him.

“i don’t care,” she chirps with a shrug and the other scoffs weakly—his lips pulling to a soft, amused smirk.

“well, you should because i’m sick and i’ll infect you,” he says hoarsely but the way his body turns and curls towards her belie his words.

she grins and brings a hand up to continue caressing his head—which he greatly favours if the way he nudges against it is any indication—before she pushes down slightly to bring him closer to the crook of her neck. “like i’d push away a chance to stay home.”

her joke manages to squeeze out a chuckle from him and the faucets of his eyes twist to a stop as his breaths deepen and relax the longer he stays in her embrace.

her scent and presence healing him more than any pills and syrup can ever achieve—his own arms curling around her and pulling her close almost to a suffocating level.

⋆˙𐙚 S.JAEYUN 𐙚˙⋆

puppy. that’s the signature animal assigned to jake given his golden retriever tendencies and pretty, puppy eyes. not to mention the fluffy hair. but that’s all there is to it. just a label.

so why is it that he finds himself sitting outside (y/n)’s bedroom door at the vacation house like a dog put on time out?

with his knees to his chest, sad eyes staring at his toes and bottom lip jutted slightly as his mind both thinks of everything and nothing at the same time.

his eyes are wide open, awake despite the midnight hour and his ears are alert for any sound that might come from (y/n)’s room. the slightest creak makes him perk while every thud makes him turn his head quickly to check if the door’s opening.

he misses her. badly.

a while before, unable to fall asleep, he decided to do something that could make or break a celebrity’s day: search up his name. while most are of good things, he can’t simply ignore some that point out the bad—from finding the faults in his dance moves and flaws in his vocals—that absolutely kills his self-esteem.

even when these ‘negatives’ are sometimes exaggerated to the point of it actually being non-existent in the first place, he can’t help but feel belittled and…insufficient.

and in the moment, the first person that popped in his mind is (y/n). sadly, it’s 2 in the morning.

so all he can do is hide his face in his arms that are folded over his knees pulled against his chest—hoping, wishing that her presence behind the door is enough to satiate his longing.

“jake…?”

his head shoots up and he turns. an angel?

no. it’s (y/n) standing in the gap of her now open door with her oversized cartoon nightdress and a bird’s nest on top of her head. her eyes are squinting, weakened by the corridor’s light as she tries to focus on him.

“why are you sitting in front of my room?”

jake gasps softly, as if unbelieving of how his prayer has been answered and he’s quick to go on his feet. “i…wanted to see you.”

it doesn’t take a rocket genius to figure out something was wrong and she doesn’t hesitate to invite him in which he immediately accepts with his whole being—zooming through and standing in the centre of her room like a pole, waiting, before being pulled by her to sit on the edge of her bed.

“what’s up?” she asks in a murmur, the sleepiness still in her system and jake aches at the sight.

he didn’t mean to wake her. but as selfish as it sounds, part of him (most of him) can’t help but feel relieved and happy that she is.

“i just saw some comments online,” he quietly confesses as he fiddles with his fingers on his lap, embarrassed. as normal as it is, he can’t help but feel slightly ashamed that he’s so affected by some random onlookers online who probably have nothing else better to do.

yet, the moment he lifts his timid gaze up to her again, he’s almost given whiplash at how intense and sharp the glare she wears is. the drowsiness completely erased as she’s more taken by irritation.

but he knows it’s not for him. never for him. and that fact is already working as a balm to his burns.

“those people know nothing. and i mean nothing about you,” she hisses but is careful to keep her voice calm and her hands fly to cup his cheeks—smooshing them so his lips pucker and his eyes widen with surprise. she pulls him closer to her face. “they don’t know how much of a big sweetheart you are. how you’re so talented and skilled and overwhelmingly charming, handsome, beautiful that i don’t think you’re even real sometimes.”

her words make warmth spread from his chest and his cheeks start to glow a sweet red that you can almost see them even in the dim room.

“really?” he asks with a grin between his squished cheeks land (y/n) nods vigorously.

“of course! you’re such bundle of greatness that even i can’t compete with how much aura you got,” she jokes using the slang terms that make them both giggle but they know how much she actually means it.

jake’s grin seems permanent now and he lifts his hands to gently pull hers down from his face and interlock his fingers between. “you don’t have to compete. we can share.”

“oh? and you’re generous too? your great qualities are limitless!” she adds which he can’t help but titter shyly to before covering it up with a wiggle of his brows.

their soft chuckles fill the room before they’re enveloped in a calm, comforting silence.

her yawn breaks it momentarily after and jake’s just about to leave with a show of gratitude but he’s stopped when (y/n) mindlessly goes under the covers and pats the space beside her.

“slumber party~” she sleepily sings with a dopey smile and jake’s heart squeezes and pops at the sight.

slowly, he joins her and reaches to bring one of her hands to cup between his—hugging it like some kind of teddy bear as he nuzzles against it.

“thank you, (y/n),” he softly says, warm breath fanning over her knuckles when he suddenly hears a small snore escape from her.

he looks at her, surprised at how quickly she fell back to sleep before grinning, amused. his eyes fall back to her hand he holds, the noticeable size difference making him coo and he glances back up to check whether she’s still asleep before placing a loving tender kiss in her palm.

one that speaks many without words.

⋆˙𐙚 P.SUNGHOON 𐙚˙⋆

ding dong!

(y/n) heads to the door mid her night skincare routine, one hand still fixing her mask while the other presses on the monitor. “sunghoon?”

she swings the door open, able to recognize him even with the layers he wears and he lifts his head—revealing his round eyes and dark, luxuriant brows previously shadowed by his cap. “hey. you didn’t tell me you were coming.”

sunghoon shifts his weight from one foot to the other and his hands stuffed in his pocket try to dig deeper down if only his pants would allow it.

“sorry,” he muffles into the scarf wrapped around his neck and (y/n) shakes her head before opening the door wider.

“don’t be. you’re welcome anytime, i was just surprised,” she says casually with a shrug and steps back into her home let him in.

the door automatically shuts behind them and it chimes.

“make yourself at home. i’m going to finish my skincare and—“

she stops suddenly, both in her tracks and sentence before turning around with a cheeky tight-lipped smile. sunghoon blinks, also paused in the middle of freeing himself from his stuffy extra covers for discretion.

“what?” he asks, eyes wide with confusion.

“wanna do skincare with me? i’ll do all the work! you’ll be my customer like in a little beauty salon!” (y/n) offers and sunghoon’s scarf slowly drops from his shoulder as he thinks.

to be honest, he’d rather not. he wants to just lie down on the couch and rest peacefully as he basks in the cozy, homey atmosphere of (y/n)’s place.

so how’d he end up with a cold face mask on, a fluffy headband pushing his hair back and his hand being in (y/n)’s hold as she paints his nails with a serum?

“want more fruit?” she asks, focused on his fingers and he nods. without pulling her eyes away from his hand, she reaches behind to her coffee table, stabs a small cut of honeydew from its bowl before feeding it to his lips with great precision and sunghoon, still amazed as he was times before, opens his mouth to take it.

he watches as she intently applies the gloss onto his nails and cuticles, taking in the way her brows furrow slightly to how her jaw tightens and lips part whenever she realizes she’s gritting her teeth.

then suddenly she looks up and their eyes meet. his breaths hitch.

“hm?” she hums and sunghoon raises his brows in wonder before seeing his hand resting on her crown.

when did that get there?

sunghoon’s pale rosy lips part, wanting to utter the single word ‘nothing.’ like always. he can say ‘nothing.’

but why must he?

“thank you…for this. i didn’t know i needed it,” he starts and slowly pats her head. “i actually came because i was so…exhausted. i needed a break.”

he doesn’t need to specify what he means. the colours that have returned to his face, loosened shoulders and soft face speak volumes.

she’s noticed his desolate demeanor before when he came—how gaunt he was, with gaze near hollow and body language overall fatigued and strained—but she chose not to say. self care however, is one of the best home therapies she knows.

“you can rest as long as you want here,” she assures and sunghoon’s small smile stretches ever so slightly, shifting his mask and he brings his hand down to the side of her face to gently stroke her cheek.

“thank you,” he mumbles again, quieter now, almost like a mutter, and she nods before resuming her work and him resuming to watch.

he doesn’t know what exactly it is about her that allows him to be so vulnerable. whatever it is, it’s like she’s his lighthouse, saving him from going astray. a warm hearth during winter or a tongue freezing popsicle during the sweltering summer.

she’s his little respite. the first one he runs to, the first name on the tip of his tongue whenever he's losing touch with himself.

and it’s proven by how easily he finds himself falling asleep with his hand tightly holding hers and groaning softly whenever she tries to pull away. she scoffs, amused, with an endeared smile with a small whisper of “good night.”

[blbyena]

boyfriend!mark x reader

Fluff - 1,128 words

(Slight cursing )

-

You pretend to flirt with the pizza guy on the phone...

Inspired by this tiktok

It’s one of those perfect nights where all you want to do is stay in with Mark, relax, and enjoy a quiet evening. The week’s been long, and the idea of ordering pizza and watching a movie together sounds like the perfect plan.

You're lying next to mark mindlessly playing with his fingers when suddenly he breaks the silence.

“Baby, can you order the pizza tonight? I’m feeling lazy,” Mark says, his voice a little raspy from rehearsals.

You smile, grabbing your phone with a mischievous glint in your eyes. As you pretend to dial the pizza place, you can already feel the fun bubbling inside you. Mark is sprawled out on his bed, and goes back to scrolling through his phone, completely unaware of what you’re about to do.

After a few seconds, simulating to wait for the ringtones , you put on your most playful tone. “Hi! I’d like to place an order for delivery, please,” you say, sounding sweet and casual.

You start listing the pizzas, but can’t help yourself. “Oh, and can you add a little extra cheese? I love it when people go the extra mile,” you ask sweetly, glancing over at Mark, who’s starting to look a little suspicious.

His eyes narrow slightly as he watches you. “Why are you talking like that?” His voice is low, almost whispering.

You keep it casual, trying to act like nothing’s wrong. “What? I'm just ordering,” you say annoyed and go back to pretending a conversation between you and the pizza guy.

“Oh my god, yes this is her. How did you remember me?”

Mark raises an eyebrow, and his body shifts as he straightens on the bed. His tone goes from calm to something a little more annoyed. “Are you talking to a friend?”

You smirk, enjoying his jealous reaction way too much. “Yeah the employee there, he’s nice to me. Told me I have a cute laugh last time I ordered,” you tease. “He even offered me free pizzas last time!”

Mark gets closer now, his gaze becoming sharper as his jealousy grows. “He said that?” His voice is laced with an edge, and you can see the possessiveness taking over.

You can’t resist pushing it further, your voice getting even more giggly. “Yeah, it's been a while, still with my boyfriend” you add with a cheeky smile, glancing at Mark to see how he’s reacting.

Mark’s face goes from confused to full-on jealousy. He walks over to you, his expression a mixture of frustration and something else. “What do you mean "still with my boyfriend"? He asks about that???”

You giggle, loving every second of this, but then you drop the bomb. “Oh, sorry, it’s just my brother bothering me again,” you say casually, as if nothing’s wrong, then continue with a laugh, “He’s always annoying me.”

Mark freezes, his eyes going wide as he stares at you. “Wait—your brother?” he repeats, disbelief in his voice.

That’s when he snaps. In one quick move, he snatches the phone out of your hand, his jealousy and frustration boiling over. “Who the fuck are you telling that I'm your brother ” he asks, voice tight with both confusion and disbelief.

He brings the phone closer to his ear, ready to argue with whoever was flirting with you....but the line is silent.

Mark looks at you confused before everything clocks in.

You can’t hold back your laughter any longer and start giggling uncontrollably. “You should have seen your face!” you say, still laughing at the expression on his face.

Mark glares at you, jaw clenched. “I was seriously gonna go crazy” he mutters, looking a little hurt, but mostly relieved. His voice softens. “You’re so mean…” he says pouting.

You pull him into a hug, feeling a little guilty now, but you’re still laughing. “I’m sorry, Mark. I didn’t mean to make you upset,” you say, but he’s not having it.

But Mark doesn’t respond right away. He’s still sulking, avoiding eye contact, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. You can tell he’s upset, and it’s kind of cute in an annoying way.

You decide to keep playing around, your playful nature taking over. You lie down next to him, resting your head on his lap and wrapping your arms around his waist. “Come on, baby, don’t be mad,” you say, planting small, teasing kisses on his neck and cheek.

Mark tries to ignore you, but you can feel him smiling as you kiss him. “Stop it,” he mutters, pushing you away. “I’m not in the mood for this.”

You giggle and shift, moving closer, planting another kiss on his lips. “I’m sorry, I just can’t help myself,” you tease, giving him one more kiss before nuzzling your face against his chest.

Mark groans in frustration, trying to push you away, but you keep crawling closer, your lips pressing against his neck as you whisper, “Come on, don’t be mad at me anymore. You know I’m just teasing.”

He sighs dramatically, clearly not able to resist your affection. “You’re lucky I love you,” he mutters, a little grin tugging at his lips as you continue to kiss him, determined to make him smile.

Mark shakes his head, but you can tell the sulking is finally over. “You better not prank me again,” he warns, his voice still a little gruff, but there’s a playful sparkle in his eyes now.

“Promise,” you say, wrapping your arms around him tightly, knowing full well you’ll probably think of another prank to tease him with soon.

[evie-sturns]

yapper - Chris Sturniolo

summary: you talk, a lot. chris finally has enough of your voice and puts his hand over your mouth, little did you both know that this would let to a lot more than expected.

contains: smut, fluff, shy!chris, yapper!reader, risky sex.

---------------------------✩------------------------------

9:28pm

"okay- but guess what happened next! she literally took off runnings, like- i mean i know she was embarrased but running away is just gonna make an even bigger fool of yourself right?" i ramble on and on, and on... and on.

"but-" i start, cutting myself off with a gasp, "i forgot to tell you oh my god! okay so you know that one girl who i used to work with, wait whats her name?"

chris suddenly speaks up, "baby," he sighs, his voice has a twinge of frustration in it, which doesnt suprise me.

ive been speaking his ear off this whole hang out, but its not my fault that i just have so much to tell chris.

i stay silent for about 3 seconds before instantly starting up again,

"jen-! that was her name, okay so basically i found out that her and her boyfriend are in like this massive fight right now because she fucki-"

chris cuts me off,

his hand clasps over my mouth, which shut me up pretty fast.

i stare at him with my round eyes, his hand still firmly plastered over my lips.

he clears his throat, breaking eye contact quickly.

i slowly reach up, grabbing his wrist and trying to gently lift his hand away.

he keeps it there though, his gaze drifitng back over to me.

chris's eyes are fluttering shut everytime he blinks, his cheeks burning red as the silence in the room grows, its nice for a change though.

i open my mouth to try protest, but my voice is muffled by his palm. "mmf- chris just-" i start,

he shakes his head, "all you do- is just talk y/n! oh my fucking god."

a grin spreads across my face, which chris seems to take note off.

suddenly he sits up right, grabbing my shoulder with his free hand.

he gently lays me down on the couch, his hand still plastered over my lips.

he then hovers over me, staring down into my eyes.

i feel heat pool in my lower abdomen, goosebumps travelling up my arms as the eye contact with chris grows stronger.

he gently removes his hand away from me, his face inches from mine.

he it between my legs, his torso millimeters above mine and his hair tickling my forehead.

“not.. another word.” he whispers,

i nod slightly,

he brushes his lips against mine, our noses brushing.

suddenly his lips connect with mine, my chest instantly tightens as i grab at him,

he inches my legs further apart with his knee, which shortly after brushes against my clothed cunt.

i let out a needy whine against his lips, causing him to pull away,

“shh sh.” he shushes me, his hands on either side of my head.

“i wan’ you..” i whisper,

chris’s cheeks flush red, his eyes darting away for a second,

“yeah?” he mutters, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he blinks a few times.

i nod, “i- i really do.”

i sit up on my elbows before reaching for his belt buckle,

he doesn’t say anything, just letting me.

i unbuckle his belt, a soft thump fills the room as it drops onto the couch.

i tug down his jeans, and he helps me discard them to the side.

his hands rest on my knees,

he suddenly speaks up, “i- i mean- we really can’t.. matt and nick are home and nick has a friend over it’s- it’s so risky..”

i frown slightly, “but- please! that’s not fair!”

he shakes his head, letting it tip back.

“i’ll be really.. really quiet i swear.” i whisper,

“i doubt that..” he scoffs,

“cant we just go to your room?” i groan,

he shakes his head, “nick will be right next door, he’ll hear stuff..”

i look up at him through big wide eyes, toying with the waistband of his boxers,

“i’ll be so good and quiet..” i breathe,

“fine- fine okay- just- god..” he mumbles,

he reaches for my waistband and tugs my small shorts off, before pulling at my panties.

he practically tears my tank top off, leaving me fully revealed.

“we have to be quick though.” chris mutters, pulling his shirt off over his head, leaving him only in his black boxers.

i nod with a smile,

he palms himself through his boxers as he hunched over, clearly overwhelmingly horny.

i tug down his boxers, the cold air hits his tip, causing him to let out a shaking gasp.

“please..” i grin,

he nods, “you- be quiet.” he whispers, grabbing my hip and lining himself up with me.

my arousal coats his tip as he gently presses it in,

the stretch hurts so good, i let out a small moan.

he slowly presses more inside of me, my walls clamping around him at the size,

“fuck- chris-“ i moan out, completely forgetting the one rule he had for me,

he stares down at me, his movements stilling,

“i fucking told you, be quiet.” he grunts,

“i can’t..” i whine loudly, his thickness stretching me out.

he moves his hand, placing it right back over my mouth with a small tut.

he starts to thrust into me, making sure his strokes are deep each time.

i squeeze my eyes shut, my whole body feeling like it’s on fire,

my stomach tingles heavily, i purse my lips together, trying to stop my noises but it’s not working.

a moan rips out of me, muffled by chris’s palm.

“noisy girl, fuck..” chris groans, his pace rapidly picking up speed.

i wrap my legs around his waist as i frantically grip at his back, my nails sinking into his skin.

my moans get increasingly louder as i turn my head to the side, making chris hand on my mouth slip away.

“you just- you just can’t shut up can you?” he grumbles, his voice trembling as he gets closer,

“i- fuck!” i babble out,

suddenly, chris pulls out of me.

empty, is the only word to describe how i feel.

“chris no- please i was so close- please!”

he cuts me off, “sit up.”

i sit up on the couch, the dull ache between my thighs frustrating me.

he gets up on his knees, his cock right infront of my face.

i stare up at him frustratedly, folding my arms,

“since you won’t keep your mouth shut, gonna have to atleast put it to work hm?” he whispers,

i roll my eyes, my hole fluttering from loss of contact.

he reaches two fingers down and taps my cheek, “open.”

i part my lips,

“go on, use that damn mouth for good.” he mutters, his hand reaching round to my hair and twirling it into a makeshift pony.

“fuck you.” i mumble quietly, a small grin on my lips.

he gently presses his tip to my lips, i wrap my lips around it, tasting myself on him.

i let out small grunts as i take him further down my throat, my lower jaw already aching.

his tip kisses the back of my throat, making me squeeze my eyes shut.

“good, so good..” he groans,

he starts to move his hips, gently fucking my face.

i let him, keeping my lips firmly around him.

his pace quickens, the head of his cock repeatedly hitting the back of my throat.

small gagging noises fill the room as his pace gets even faster.

“oh fuck baby- oh god, gonna— gonna let me fill that pretty mouth up?” he rambles, his grip on my hair tightening,

i nod,

“that’s a good girl,” he whimpers with one final thrust of his hips,

spurts of white shoot down my throat, a smile growing on my face as i swallow it all,

he gently pulls out of my mouth, rubbing my cheek with his free hand.

he flops back onto the couch, his cheeks red and sweaty.

his hair sticks to his forehead from the dampness, he gently pulls me onto his lap.

“can you fuck me now chris, so mean of you to edge me like that.” i huff, rolling my eyes.

“why would i let you cum? you weren’t following instructions properly yeah?” he chuckles, earning a loud groan from me

i tip my head foward onto his shoulder

“my jaw hurts.” i groan,

“does that mean you’ll finally stop all the talking?” he grins,

“no— not at all actually- i still haven’t finished my story!”

-

taglist #1

@jayz4dayz4 4 @sassysturniolo2008 @nyktoxs-lover r @nathando-64 esgf @starsturns234 @chrissturnsss s @joemamaaa42069 9 9 @sturnthepot t t @zayyluvz z z @realuvrrr r r r @livialifesblog @sturnioloblogs s @riowritesitall l l @raysmayhem-72 @sturnsdoll @obvisturns @stupid4sturniolo @meerkatzthings @witchofthehour r @rosalierenee43 @gabrielle-brun1 @ilovemymannnnnnn n @sturnioloxlver r @buckys-goodgirl @sturniol0s @ilovemymannnnnnnn @chr1sgirl4life @luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya a @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney y y @lovingchrissposts @333michelle e @h3arts4harry y @jamiesturniolo o @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @ @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @ev3rgreenxtrees enxtrees @certifiednatelover r r @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast t t t t @yomamaslays4lyfe e @peachmelbaesunpostre @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 9 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc c c @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @bitchydragonparadise e @sturni0l0tripletzz z 0 @ratatioulle  @sturnsforlife @mattsonly @justalittle47 7 @sunsetsturniolos s @downbad4reid  

[solxamber]

Hello Miss Sol! I just saw the event and I can't pass up this opportunity to see you write Valentimes stories.

May I please have Riddle, Romantic, with "No Name Yet" by Double Face? https://youtu.be/U8Sb-laqFbo?si=wBDPDKcgILJgCWll

Thank you!

enstars??? in my inbox?? unexpected but love that

"The joy of first bloom" || Riddle Rosehearts

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭��𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠: No Name Yet by Double Face

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 650

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: Pre-relationship, Realization of feelings

The rose garden is quiet today. The gentle breeze carries the scent of fresh blossoms, and the golden afternoon light filters through the hedges, painting shifting patterns on the stone paths. It's peaceful—serene in a way that Riddle never quite knows how to handle.

Even now, with the weight of his past slowly loosening its grip, he still fights against the instinct to fill the silence with purpose. His hands remain stiff on his lap, posture perfect, eyes focused ahead as if waiting for an order. Old habits die hard.

But then, there's you.

Sitting beside him, humming some quiet, nameless tune, letting the sunlight kiss your skin without a care in the world. You've always been like this—effortlessly free, your warmth spilling into his life like a season he'd never been allowed to experience.

He doesn't quite understand it. Even after all this time, after everything he’s shown you—his ugly, controlling nature, the temper he barely manages to keep in check, the aftermath of his overblot—you remain. Smiling, laughing, asking him if he's eaten lunch today, if he's gotten enough rest.

As if it’s that simple. As if he isn’t something fractured, something still learning how to exist outside the rigid structure he was raised in.

He doesn’t deserve it.

And yet, he wants it.

He wants to be near you. He wants to hear you call his name like it’s something soft, not something sharp and demanding. He wants to be worthy of the warmth you offer so freely.

But he doesn’t know how.

The thought makes his hands clench slightly, nails pressing crescents into the fabric of his uniform.

You glance at him, sensing his tension, and tilt your head. “What’s on your mind, Riddle?”

He swallows. He could lie. It would be easy—he’s spent his whole life hiding his emotions, curating himself into something palatable. But something about the way you look at him makes honesty feel possible.

“I was thinking about…growth.”

Your eyes soften. “Oh?”

He hesitates, then gestures vaguely toward the garden. “These roses. They bloom so easily, don’t they? But they require constant care, the right conditions. Pruning, sunlight, proper watering.” He exhales, gaze dropping. “I wonder… if there are some flowers that simply aren’t meant to bloom.”

You’re quiet for a moment, considering his words. Then, with a thoughtful hum, you reach down and pluck a stray wildflower that’s sprouted between the neatly trimmed hedges. It’s small, delicate—pale blue petals trembling slightly in the breeze.

“Not every flower blooms the same way,” you say, holding it out to him. “Some take longer. Some need different care than others. But that doesn’t mean they’re not meant to bloom.”

He stares at the flower in your hands, his heart beating strangely in his chest.

You continue, voice gentle. “I think you’ve been growing this whole time, Riddle. Even if you don’t realize it.”

His fingers twitch, aching to take the flower from your hand, to hold onto something so simple yet so profound. But he doesn’t. Instead, he watches as you tuck it behind his ear, fingers brushing against his hairline, lingering for just a second too long.

Warmth seeps into his chest.

Only you, he thinks.

Only you would make him feel this warm.

It isn’t until later, when he’s alone in his room, that he looks in the mirror and sees the flower still tucked behind his ear.

His fingers brush against the petals, delicate and real.

It has no name, but somehow, that feels right.

Because whatever this feeling is—the way his chest tightens when you smile at him, the way his pulse quickens when you touch his hand—it has no name yet.

But someday, he thinks, it will bloom into something beautiful.

And for the first time, he’s not afraid of it.

Masterlist ; Valentine's Event

[misayani]

LOVE SONG — THANOS (PLAYER 230)

◜ pairing ... thanos (choi su-bong) / player 230 x  fem reader

◜ how does it feel, to be here? cold and lonely.

𔗨 author's note — yayyy a non smut fic from misa !!! noooo, it's angst:( this is short !! and ALSO THANK U SO MUCH FOR 1,015 FOLLOWERS ??? thats a lot lot and im vv thankful for each and every single one of you, ily [lowercase intended]

🧷 𝓜isa mentions — @joc3lynx @mymel1008 @justredsw @wlvlurvsfimmia @azansstuff @dvrk-hoon @yersang-dreams @keiradg01

— angst, comfort if you squint

hard rain drops echoed through the empty halls of your apartment, the smell of cigarettes lingering in the cold air, as you stood in the middle of the living room.

your eyes stare at the cardboard boxes in front of you for a moment, and then to the shattered empty vodka bottles on the wooden floor.

you looked completely disheveled—dark circles weighed heavily beneath your eyes, your hair completely untouched and unkept, and you wore nothing but an oversized white shirt and a pair of underwear.

disgusting. you reeked of alcohol and cigarettes. it's ironic how your achromatopsia—your complete color blindness—makes this experience even better.

your eyes dart to your phone laying on the floor as it starts suddenly ringing, su-bong's name flashing across the screen. are just imagining things or is it really him?

a smile forms on your dry, pale lips, the skin cracking but it did not bother you at the moment, as you approach the vibrating phone, absolutely not caring about how the shattered glass cut through your skin as you walked across it, blood seeping out of the cuts.

you immediately answered the call and brought the phone close to your ear

"su-bong? su-bong!" your heart skips a beat, "honey please come back! i know i promised that i won't ever drink anymore, but i missed you too much." your voice breaks,

"i- i don't even know where you are... please, su-bong, tell me, so i can find you! oh how i missed you so mu—"

"knock it off, crazy bitch!" a rough voice slices through, the man's voice filled with venom and disdain as he spats at the other end of the call. "do you know the trouble i went through just to get your fucking number?!"

the words hit you like a slap. you blink, disoriented, your chest tight with shock and confusion. his words echo in your mind as you struggle to comprehend. then— "i'm going to hunt you down and fucking gut you if you don't pay off your boyfriend's de—"

"fuck you! fuck you!" you scream, voice raw with anger. your hand shaking as you slam your thumb against the end call button.

the sound of the call disconnecting only amplifies the silence that follows. but it's not a silence of relief, it's worse. 

your body trembles as the tears break free, rolling down your pale cheeks. you wipe at your face repeatedly but it doesn't result to any better, the tears keep coming. 

you pulled your knees up to your chest, curling into yourself as you absentmindedly scrolled through your phone, your thumb brushing over the screen before clicking on something.

a hiccup escaped from your lips as you pressed the phone to your ear. 

"senorita, are you crying again?" su-bong's voice cut through the silence as you kept quiet, your eyes empty as they stared away to the gray surroundings that felt like were closing in.

you finally heard his voice. you finally heard his voice.

"cmon, don't cry." his voice continued, "you know i don't like seeing my princess cry." 

despite the warmth in his voice, the emptiness in your chest deepened. 

"i miss you." you manage to force out, your voice barely above a whisper, the words feel heavy, like a weight pressing against your chest, but you let them escape anyway, desperate for him to hear them.

"awww, that's my girl! i knew you would cheer up with candy." his voice cooes, soft and comforting, but soon it fades as you slowly pull the phone away from your ear. 

you stare at it blankly, the colors from the screen falling upon your eyes that couldn't see color, as your thumb hovers over the pause button of the recorded video.

in the video, su-bong's smile flashes on the screen, a moment frozen in time, his face filled with warmth as he engulfed you in a hug, laughing softly as you struggle to open the candy packaging.

the simple joy of the moment was captured and to be kept forever. the memory tugs at something deep inside you, but all you could see was gray.

your heart hammered inside your chest as the realization hits you like a bullet shot through your body. 

su-bong is dead. su-bong is dead. stop being fucking delusional.

you force the words into your mind, repeating them over and over. you try to shake the lingering hope, but it was useless. 

then, a small pool of blood slowly spread beneath your feet, its dark color stark against the ground. 

you scoffed, finding the whole situation fucked and funny. but it was getting so damn overwhelming, you felt like a bomb, you could explode in any minute.

you couldn't tell what hurt more—the raw sting of your cut feet or the hollow, suffocating truth that the man you loved most was really gone.

the pain in the soles of your feet throbbed, but it paled in comparison to the ache spreading through your chest, a deep, gnawing emptiness that nothing could fill. 

the absence of su-bong—the hole he left—feels like it's swallowing you whole. then another truth settles in; you're so fucked.

the debts he left behind? they're yours now. and somehow, you know it's never going to end.

@misayani

[redocity]

Hi!! I love your writing a lot and I'm so glad to have found your account 🩷🩷 This is my first time ever making a request so please let me know if I was being to vague, but can you write a buck x F/GN reader where buck and reader comes home late at night and they do sort of a cleansing night routine? I don't know if that makes sense or if it's too plain, but thank you if you do!! 🩷

LONG DAY — E.BUCKLEY

there’s nothing you enjoy more after a long day than unwinding with your doting boyfriend.

evan buckley x gn!reader | 1.4k | fluff | masterlist.

a/n — enjoy some wholesomeness :)

The apartment door swings open with a quiet creak, and you step inside, your body heavy with exhaustion.

The shift at the firehouse had been relentless—one call after another, barely enough time to catch your breath between emergencies. Your muscles ache, and the scent of smoke clings to you like a second skin, embedding itself deep into your clothes, your hair, your pores.

Behind you, Buck follows, just as worn down, though he still manages to wear a small, weary grin. You hear the dull thud of his boots as he toes them off near the door, a sigh slipping past his lips.

“Finally home,” he murmurs, his voice rough from hours of shouting over sirens and inhaling ash.

You don’t answer right away. Instead, you let your gear bag drop from your shoulder with a heavy thump, wincing as your stiff muscles protest the sudden movement.

Lifting your arms to stretch, you feel the pull in your shoulders and the deep-seated tension in your lower back.

Buck watches you with quiet amusement, his eyes soft despite the exhaustion weighing him down. Then, as if drawn to you by some invisible force, he steps forward and wraps his arms around your waist from behind.

His embrace is warm, grounding, the heat of his body radiating through the fabric of your sweat-dampened shirt.

He presses a kiss to the curve of your neck, the scratch of his stubble sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. “You okay?” he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper.

You exhale, leaning into him. “Yeah. Just—long day,”

“I know,” he says, tightening his hold on you for a moment before loosening it just enough to guide you forward. “Come on. Let’s wash this day off,”

You let him take your hand and lead you down the dimly lit hallway, past the framed photos on the walls, past the warmth of the living room where the couch seems to beckon you to collapse into it. But the shower is calling louder.

Buck steps into the bathroom first, reaching out to turn on the shower. The pipes groan in protest before the water sputters to life, quickly filling the small space with a comforting warmth.

The steam rises, curling around the edges of the glass door, and you already feel lighter just knowing that soon the grime and stress of the day will be washed away.

You move sluggishly, exhaustion making your limbs heavy as you pull your sweat-sticky shirt over your head. It clings stubbornly to your skin, and you grunt in frustration.

Buck turns at the sound, his gaze dropping to your struggle. Without a word, he steps forward, gently grasping the hem of your shirt and peeling it off for you.

His touch is careful, his fingers brushing against your ribs as he lifts the fabric over your head. When you’re free of it, he tosses it aside, his hands lingering at your waist. His thumbs skim over your skin in slow, absentminded strokes, his eyes scanning your face.

“You look dead on your feet,” he murmurs.

“Feel like it, too,” you admit, giving him a tired smile.

He huffs out a soft chuckle before dropping to his knees to help you out of your pants. The gesture is intimate but not rushed, just another part of your shared routine after grueling shifts.

He tugs your pants down with gentle hands, his fingertips grazing the sensitive skin of your thighs as he guides them down. You step out of them, and as he rises back up, he presses a kiss to your bare shoulder, lingering for just a second longer than necessary.

When both of you are stripped bare, he laces his fingers through yours and pulls you into the shower.

The first touch of hot water against your skin makes you sigh in relief, your body instinctively relaxing as the warmth seeps into your muscles.

Buck moves behind you, his large hands settling on your hips before sliding up to your shoulders, kneading gently. “You’re so tense,” he murmurs, thumbs working circles into the knots in your muscles.

You hum in agreement, letting your head drop forward slightly, allowing him better access. His touch is firm yet soothing, his fingers finding each tight spot and easing the tension away with practiced precision.

Then, without a word, he reaches for the shampoo.

“Turn around,” he says softly, and you obey, facing him as he lathers the shampoo between his hands. The scent of eucalyptus fills the air as his fingers weave into your hair, massaging your scalp with slow, deliberate movements.

Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation, a contented sigh escaping your lips. “That feels amazing,”

“Good,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible over the steady stream of water. “You deserve it,”

He takes his time, his fingers working through the strands of your hair, making sure to wash away every trace of sweat, soot, and fatigue. When he tilts your head back under the spray to rinse out the suds, his hands cradle the back of your neck, holding you steady as the warm water cascades down your skin.

You return the favor, lathering body wash between your palms before running your hands over his broad shoulders, across his chest, down his arms. His muscles are taut beneath your fingertips, his body familiar in a way that makes your heart ache with love.

By the time you’re both fully rinsed, the water has started to cool. Buck turns it off before stepping out first, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around you before drying himself off. He doesn’t rush—everything about tonight is slow, intentional, meant to be savored.

The two of you move seamlessly through the next part of your routine, making your way to the sink where your collection of skincare products waits.

Buck had never been into skincare before meeting you. At first, he’d only joined in for fun, teasingly smearing cleanser onto his face while making exaggerated expressions in the mirror.

But over time, he’d grown to enjoy it, relishing in the small, grounding ritual of taking care of himself after the chaos of the job.

You hand him his designated cleanser, watching as he carefully dispenses the right amount onto his palm before rubbing it into his skin. His expression is comically serious as he stares at his reflection, making sure to get every inch.

You stifle a laugh. “You always look like you’re solving a mystery when you do this,”

“This is serious business,” he replies, rinsing off the cleanser with methodical precision. “Gotta keep my skin as flawless as yours,”

Shaking your head fondly, you finish your own routine before turning to him with a small dollop of moisturizer on your fingertips. “Here, let me,”

He leans in without hesitation, letting you smooth the cream over his face. Your fingers trace the curve of his cheekbones, the bridge of his nose, the line of his jaw.

His skin is warm, soft beneath your touch, and when you finish, he doesn’t pull away immediately. Instead, he tilts his head slightly, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Thanks,” he murmurs, his voice laced with affection.

“Anytime,”

Once the final touches of your routine are complete, you both make your way to bed, the exhaustion settling in fully now that the weight of the day has been washed away.

The mattress is cool and inviting as you slip beneath the covers, and the moment you do, Buck pulls you close, his arms wrapping securely around you.

His body is warm against yours, his heartbeat steady beneath your cheek as you rest your head against his chest.

“Long day,” he mutters sleepily, his lips pressing a drowsy kiss to your forehead.

You hum in agreement, nuzzling closer. “But at least we’re home now,”

“Yeah,” he sighs, tightening his hold on you. “Home,”

[draculapizzaart]

I don’t know if you can reply to people’s nice comments if they put them in a tag in a reblog rather than a comment so I don’t think I can thank anyone directly for all the nice comments people have made on any of my art the last few weeks unless they commented but if you 🫵 left a nice comment on any of my art reblog or otherwise thank you thank you and if you’d like please feel free to drop a character name (one piece, Naruto, Ace Attorney uhh some stuff I’ve never posted but know well you could do are Star Trek TOS and DS9 uhhh BBC Merlin? BG3, Hades? I started FF7 recently so sure? Pokemon, never played MSG but you could request snake and I’ll draw Snake from Escape from New York and we can pretend it’s the guy from MSG since they’re like… the same) in my ask box I will use that as a grab bag for when I need to do a practice sketch or just want to do something real quick

Join the Cross Guild

[rebelliousmuse]

Stuffed Up – C.S.

(Literally dreamt this entire thing, I woke up DRIPPING WET. Bye)

Warnings: SMUT, oral (male receiving), unprotected p in v and a (use protection), pet names.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Chris’s hands roam over your body, groping and caressing. “Oh I'm gonna take care of this needy little thing...” One hand slips down to grab your ass, squeezing hard as he pulls you flush against him. The other tangles in your hair, gripping tight. “But first, I want to hear you beg for it like the desperate slut you are.”

You can't help the smirk that tugs at the corner of your mouth as your gaze drifts down to his lips. You deliberately bite your lower lip, drawing attention to the playful curve of your smile, before finally lifting your eyes to meet his. Your smirk softens into something more vulnerable, a silent plea in the depths of your eyes, “Please, make me feel good like only you can. My pussy needs your big fat cock, daddy” You purr while massaging his cock through his jeans as you hold his gaze.

Chris groans as you massage his hardening bulge. “Fuck, listen to you begging so sweetly... Such a good little cock sleeve.” He grabs your wrist firmly. “But no touching yet, babe. Hands off until I say otherwise.” He steps back and slowly undoes his belt and zipper, freeing his thick erection which springs out, already rock hard and leaking pre-cum.

“On your knees, now. Show Daddy how much you missed this fat cock.” He watches as you slowly sink to your knees holding his gaze, “Oh I'll show you” You say with a wicked grin.

Chris smirks arrogantly, looking down at you with lust-filled eyes. “That's what I like to hear. Now put that filthy mouth to work and worship this dick like it deserves.”

Chris tangles fingers in your hair and guides your head towards my waiting cock. “Open wide, slut. Let's see how deep you can take it.” He slowly pushes past your lips, groaning at the wet heat enveloping his shaft. “Yeahhh, just like that... Choke yourself on Daddy's cock. Show me what a good little cocksucker you are.” He starts thrusting shallowly, forcing himself deeper each time. “Take it all, whore. Don't you dare spill a drop. Swallow every inch like a good cumslut.” Chris fucks your face harder, grunting with pleasure as he uses your throat ruthlessly.

He growls approvingly as he feels you gagging, fucking your face even harder as you choke on his thickness. “That's it, take it! Gag on Daddy's cock, you nasty little vixen!”

Chris holds your head still, grinding against your face and forcing you to deepthroat him completely. “Mmmph, fuck yeah... Look at you, stretched out around my fat dick... You were made for this, weren't you?” He begins to pound into your mouth mercilessly, saliva dripping down your chin as you struggle to breathe between gags, getting teary-eyed. “You're going to swallow every last drop, aren't you?”

Chris notices you’re in tears and smirks cruelly. “What's wrong, baby? Can't handle Daddy's thick cock anymore? Maybe you need a reminder of who owns this mouth...” He slams into your throat brutally, holding you in place as he grinds against your face, ensuring you can't breathe. “Breathe through your nose, slut. You're not done serving yet.”

After a minute, he relaxes slightly, allowing you to gasp for air before resuming his brutal pace. “That's better. Now, let's see if you can handle a little more...”

Chris starts thrusting faster, fucking your face with wild abandon, chasing his impending orgasm. “Yes, just like that! Take it all, you filthy cocksucking whore!” he grunts loudly, balls tightening as he nears climax and he roars as he erupts, pumping wave after wave of hot, sticky cum directly down your throat. Chris’s entire body shudders with the force of his release as he fills your mouth and choke you with his seed.

He finally pulls out, watching with satisfaction as a string of cum connect his cock to your puffy, abused lips. “Good girl.” He gives your hair a rough tug, pulling your head back to admire his handiwork. “Look at you, covered in spit and jizz... Such a beautiful mess.”

Chris wipes his cock clean on your cheek before helping you to your feet. Then spins you around and bends you over the nearby table, hiking up your skirt. “Let's see how wet that pretty pussy is...” Chris runs a finger along your soaked slit, collecting your juices before bringing it to his mouth for a taste.

“Mmmm, delicious... And all for me.” He lines up his still-hard cock with your entrance and slams inside with one powerful thrust, stretching you open around his girth. “Fuck, you're always so tight...” Chris sets a relentless pace, pounding into you from behind.

He reaches around to rub your clit in time with his thrusts, feeling you clench and quiver around his cock. “You love being used like this, don't you? Love having your hole filled and your mind fucked until you can't think straight.”

The rhythmic slaps of skin-on-skin echoes through the room. Each impact, a resounding thud against flesh, punctuated by the ragged gasps and moans escaping both of you.

He leans over you, his breath hot against your ear. “I bet you've been dreaming about this, haven't you? About being bent over and split open on my huge cock, taken hard and fast until you can't walk.”

“Mmmmphh fuck, yes, yes! I've dreamt about you so many times, daddy!... Fuuuckk!!” You whimper loudly, the table beneath you creaks with his powerful thrusts as your hands spread your ass cheeks giving him a better angle and allowing him to go deeper in your pussy.

Chris snaps his hips sharply. “Come on, baby, give me what's mine. Cum all over my dick like a good little slut.” His dick is hitting your g-spot and making stars explode behind your eyelids.

“Oh my god!!!” You whimper loudly as you cum hard, your cunt clenching uncontrollably around his girth. Chris feels your pussy clamp down on him like a vice as you come, milking his cock for all it's worth.

“Fuck yeah, that's it! Cream all over my dick, you dirty slut!” and he keeps pounding into you through your orgasm, prolonging your pleasure as he chases his own climax. “You're so perfect like this... Taking everything I give you.” With a final, brutal thrust, he buries himself to the hilt inside you and explode, painting your insides with his hot seed. “Ahhhh, FUCK!”

He collapses onto you, both of you panting heavily as you ride out the aftershocks of your intense coupling. But he’s far from done with you, seeing you had spread your juicy ass cheeks for him earlier, he was tempted to try something new.

He now circles your puckered rim with a fingertip, he’s been wanting this for a while now and seen your cheeks spread to his hungry gaze only fed his fetish. He applies gentle pressure until you relax and allow him entry. Chris eases a single finger past your tight ring of muscle, groaning at the exquisite heat engulfing it. “Fuck, you're so tight back here... Can't wait to feel this virgin ass wrapped around my thick cock.”

He pumps slowly, letting you adjust to the intrusion before adding a second finger alongside the first, scissoring them gently. “Gonna stretch this hole out real good, make it fit me like a glove. By the time I'm done with you, you'll be addicted to the burn of my dick splitting you open.”

Chris curls his fingers, rubbing insistently against that special bundle of nerves hidden deep inside. “There it is... Milk my fingers, baby. Get yourself nice and loose for me.” He continues working you open with steady, purposeful movements, gradually increasing the pace as your body yields to his ministrations.

He keeps focusing on carefully preparing you for the impending invasion. “Don't worry, I'll go slow and make it as comfortable as possible for you. Just trust me and follow my lead.”

Chris adds a third finger, stretching you wider as he works in tandem with his thumb, circling and pressing against your sensitive prostate. “You're doing great, taking it so well... Almost ready for me.”

Chris withdraws his fingers, giving your stretched hole a moment to recover before coating his rock-hard cock in lube. “Alright, time to put that pretty ass to the test.” He positions the head of his dick at your entrance, teasing you with shallow thrusts. “Breathe deep, baby...” then pushes forward, sinking the first inch of his thick shaft into your resisting passage. “Ahhh, fuck... So tight... You were made for this, weren't you?”

He grunts as he forces another inch inside, feeling your muscles spasm and clench around him. “Relax, sweetheart... Let me in. I promise it'll feel amazing once you adjust.”

Chris continues to push steadily, breaking through the initial resistance until he’s buried to the hilt within your warm, velvety depths. “There we go... All the way in. You look stunning with my cock stuffed up your ass.”

His hands find your hips, gripping firmly as he begins to move, withdrawing almost completely before plunging back in with a deep, powerful stroke. “Mmmm, yes... This is perfection. Your ass was made for my dick.”

You moan with pain and pleasure, your eyes closed as you try to adjust to the new sensation of doing anal for the first time ever. When Chris notices your discomfort, he slows his pace, offering words of encouragement. “Shh, it's okay... Just take a moment to get used to it.” He gives your hips a gentle squeeze, feeling your muscles flutter around his invading length. “You're doing fantastic, baby”

Chris starts to pick up speed again, driving into you with deeper, more forceful thrusts. “That's it... Relax and let me take control. I'll make sure you enjoy every second of this.” One of your hands goes down and starts rubbing your clit to help cope with the pain-pleasure rippling through you.

A low growl rumbling in his chest as he watches you touch yourself. “Oh, you naughty girl... Playing with your clit while I'm fucking your ass.” Chris reaches around to join in, his fingers finding your swollen nub and pinching it between his thumb and index finger. “Is this what you need, huh? To be touched all over while I claim this tight little hole?”

Chris redoubles his efforts, slamming into you with brutal intensity as he rubs your clit in time with his thrusts. “You're going to cum so hard, aren't you? Milk my dick dry while I fill your ass with my seed.”

As pleasure takes over your body, you need more and more, your pussy clenching around nothing so you decide to help yourself again. “Oh fuck” You whimper as he fucks your ass while rubbing your clit. You use your middle and ring fingers to masturbate your pussy in time with his thrusts. “Mmmph”

Chris groans loudly as he witnesses your depraved display, his balls tightening in anticipation of an explosive release. “Fuck, that's hot... Watching you stuff your cunt full of fingers while I rail your ass. You're such a dirty slut for me.” He grabs your wrist, pushing your hand away and replacing it with his own, plunging three fingers knuckle-deep into your dripping pussy.

“Let me take care of both your holes... Want to feel this greedy cunt squeezing around my fingers as I empty my load in your ass.” Chris drills into you relentlessly, the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room along with your mingled moans of ecstasy.

“Gonna... Gonna fucking nut soon... You better be ready for it!” Chris feels your pussy clamping down on his fingers, milking them for all they're worth as your orgasm crashes over you.

“That's it, cum for me like a good little whore! Clench that ass around my cock while you squirt all over my hand!” He slams home one last time, burying himself to the root as his own climax hits with the force of a freight train, painting your inner walls with thick ropes of molten cum. “FUCK YES!!! Take it all, you perfect little bitch! Every last drop belongs in this slutty asshole!”

Chris’s hips jerk erratically as he pumps you full, his fingers still pistoning in and out of your convulsing cunt, prolonging your pleasure as he marks you as his. “Mine... All mine... My personal fucktoy to ruin whenever I want...”

Chris collapses on top of you, his softening cock still nestled snugly in your cum-filled ass as you both struggle to catch your breath in the aftermath of your intense coupling, your bodies still intertwined. The air is thick with the scent of arousal and sweat. Your heart races like a wild drumbeat against your ribs as you try to regain control of your breathing. Sweat trickles down his temples, mingling with the lingering heat on his skin. Your muscles ache, your limbs feel heavy.

A soft smile graces your lips as you reach back and gently trace the curve of his jawline. “Goddamn... That was incredible...” He murmurs into your sweat-dampened hair, pressing tender kisses across your shoulders. Chris rolls off of you, missing the warmth of your body immediately as he picks you up bridal-style and brings you to the couch, putting you down and then he flops onto his back beside you. “Rest up, because we're far from done... I plan on keeping you in this bed all night long, using every single one of your holes until neither of us can move.” Chris smirks wickedly, reaching out to give your ass a firm smack.

Taglist: @mattsbitchh @riasturns

[curiositysavesthecat]

*This poll was submitted to us and we simply posted it so people could vote and discuss their opinions on the matter. If you’d like for us to ask the internet a question for you, feel free to drop the poll of your choice in our inbox and we’ll post them anonymously (for more info, please check our pinned post).

[lsunstreakerl]

darkbull ficlet! another chunk of the kidnapping, max POV. 1k words! HELLLOOOO: this one is bad. obviously, because it's the kidnapping, but like. the dehumanization is rampant in this one.

"I know you're used to being decorative, chaton, but please use that pretty brain of yours to think for a moment."

Charles is cradling Max's face in his hand, sitting heavy over Max's waist.

Max blinks the tears back. His arms are tied tight above his head, legs pinned down by Charles' weight.

Max flinches at the buzz again, squeezing his eyes shut as Charles brings his other hand back to his ribs.

His teeth are clenched so tight around the gag it hurts, but the sensation is nothing compared to the needles on his ribs. Charles' hand is steady, but Max is still trembling underneath him.

"You need to stay still. Otherwise it will come out badly, and we don't want that."

Max chokes out a watery affirmation around the gag, tasting salt in the back of his throat from the tears. Charles is working on his left side, and Max-

Max has no idea what he's doing, what he's permanently inking into Max's skin.

Charles carries on his conversation like things are normal, like this is just a regular day.

"As I was saying- they do not actually love you, not the way I do. Think about it, baby. They didn't trust you, they put a tracker into you. You didn't even know about it."

Max is wishing right now that the tracker was still in him, because at least then he could pretend someone is coming for him.

Charles must be able to see it on his face, because he tuts at him disapprovingly before lifting the tattoo gun up, hand coming to Max's hair and yanking.

Max tries to shout, but it's muffled, and the only result is Charles rolling his eyes. He's looking down at Max, lip curled into a sneer.

"That is bad. You are not supposed to want that. I know you are not this stupid- or maybe you are."

He lets go of Max's hair, and his head drops back down, thudding softly against the mattress.

Charles has switched on a dime again, something in his eyes that almost looks like fondness- but Max knows better.

"Maybe this is all you need, yes? Dumb little kitten, too stupid to be allowed outside. Do you need to be an inside cat?"

Max makes another noise around the gag, trying to disagree, and there's tears at his waterline, pinpricks of pain on his scalp still.

Charles reaches a hand up, brushing at Max's eyes.

"It's alright, baby. You can stay inside- I didn't realize that's what you wanted."

He leans down, kissing right over Max's sternum before picking the tattoo gun back up.

"You will still have to come out with me sometimes, but I won't let you get lost, don't worry. All you will have to do is drive, and then you can come home."

Max squeezes his eyes shut at the sensation of the needles on his skin again, making another muffled noise of pain.

Charles shushes him, free hand coming up to cradle his jaw again.

"Just a little bit more- I need to be sure you have identification, yes?"

The sensation starts again, and Max drops his head to the side, eyes firmly shut. He doesn't want to see.

It feels like an eternity later when Charles sits back, lifting the gun away and setting it on the bedside dresser.

"There we go. You look so pretty now baby- I knew it would look good on you."

He ghosts his fingers over the spot he's been working on, and Max jerks underneath him at the sensitivity, eyes flying open.

Charles is grinning at him.

"See? All done."

Max actually can't see it- doesn't want to.

Charles shakes his head at him, slightly exasperated but still fond.

"You are being so timid. I know you're still adjusting, but I promise- you'll like it here."

He taps his fingers against the gag, chastising.

"I just need to house train you first."

Max doesn't like the sound of that. Max hasn't liked the sound of anything so far, but house training? No, he doesn't want anything to do with it. He would actually like if Charles would use his name. It's only been pet names and kitten, and it makes something churn in his gut.

He has a name, he does. He wants to hear it- doesn't want it to grow rust in the back of his head. The idea that Redbull might never come for him, that they might not have ever cared- Max doesn't want this to be the rest of his life.

Charles runs a wipe over Max's ribs, and he bucks up under his hips with a shout, trying to get away from it- it hurts- everything is raw and sensitive.

Charles snaps his fingers above Max's face, annoyed.

"Almost done, chaton, put the claws away. I need to wrap it so it stays pretty, yes?"

Max wouldn't mind if the damn thing turned into a blurry mess- might prefer it that way.

But he stays still, letting Charles dress it and wrap it. He's not interested in pissing off Charles any further.

Charles leans down and kisses his sternum again, fingers deftly going up and untying Max's arms.

"You did so good- you can roam around a bit now."

Max is stunned for a moment, because Charles can't possibly be this stupid.

Charles sits back when Max's arms are untied, lifting his weight off of Max's lower body.

He could get up and leave.

Except- when he tries to sit up his ribs scream at him, and he immediately drops back with a gasp, tears pricking at his eyes again.

Charles makes a soft noise next to him.

"Oh, does that hurt? You don't have to move if you don't want to, chaton. I will bring you things."

He's petting at Max's hair, and Max feels so defeated- even with the opportunity to escape, or at least move around- he can't.

Charles hasn't actually given him any freedom at all.

He turns his head away from Charles, eyes shut tightly, and Charles makes another quiet noise, fingers patting gently at his jaw before he moves, leaving the room.

The pillow is wet under Max's cheek, soaked in his tears from the tattoo session. He can taste salt in the back of his throat, and it's hard to get air through his nose, but he tries to settle his breathing, self regulate.

It doesn't help.

[threepandas]

Bad End: War Bride

I tried everything. EVERYTHING. But in the end... nothing changed.

We were CRUSHED.

My people fought valiantly. Proud and noble, honorable and good to the very end. I was... I AM... so proud.... so very, very proud to be their honored princess. Their King's first born (and only) child. My small kingdom. My precious, precious people.

Forgive me.

Guhwa is falling. The chrysanthemums our small nation is so known for, red with the rivers of citzen blood spilled. I... Gods, I tried to strengthen our armies. Made allies. Agreements hand over fist. Better weapons! Stronger walls! Food and infrastructure! Anything. Everything! To forestall the end.

This end. Our End. (I had prayed. For so long. So very hard. That I was wrong.)

Bloody and terrible, which... gods, I always feared would come. (But I wasn't. Was I?)

Reborn into a story. Where the terrible was made insipid and light. Where all could be forgiven in the name of ~Love~! The death, the horrors, the screams that filled the streets. Children dying in their mothers arms and the blood of brothers as they tried to run. Families torn asunder. Lives cut short.

It's OKAY. It was for LOVE! For the Gods little LOVE story! Roses and romance. Intricate silks and palace drama! How FUN. How ROMANTIC! Look at all these Pretty Boys~!

Sickening. Utterly sickening. It was enough to make me vomit.

My friends, my family, my servants and THEIR families. My PEOPLE. They were not SET DRESSING! Bodies to be thrown on the pyre! Fodder for the machine! The servants who snuck me candies as a child. Who stayed up late to rock me through nightmare. The friends who laughed and joined me in lessons, just so I wouldn't have to be alone.

The people who were so proud of me, I might as well be a daughter of their very own.

MY Guhwa.

I grit my teeth as it BURNED.

The story did speak of me. Or at least, a woman with my name. My face. A selfish, bitter, hateful thing. A lesser antagonist. Little power. After all? Why would a princess from such a minor kingdom have any power in his Majesty illustrious court? The Emperor was the son of heaven after all!

Did she go, I wondered, to seek an alliance? To seduce protection for our people? Was she there by choice at all? In my soul, somehow... somehow I always knew. Suspected. My answer.

Guhwa is just a notch in their belts. Another glorious conquest for their festering empire. Bloated and heaving, like an animal spoiled to rotting. They don't need our land. Do need our resources. It was about power. Control.

My... my people... my beloved people! DIED for their Power and Control!

I scream, wrathful and grieving, as I swing my glaive. Keeping distance as I strike down the vermin that swarm the palace. Let me die here. Please, gods! Let me DIE here! With my people. My Honored Father. With Guhwa!

There! Lazily striking down servants, who are fighting for their lives. I see golden fucking hair. You. That miserable, festering, philandering, PIECE OF SHIT! Come to claim so honors, have you? Glory in FUCKING BATTLE? What GLORY is there in this?!

My rage feels like acid. A roaring of dragons and a hushing of the world. Inside me, it is deafening. Outside? The world is far away. Only anger. Fury. RAGE. Kill him. Kill him! KILL HIM!! And on the ground, still held in the loyal hand of my Father's finest, is my means. A crossbow. One bolt.

Ignoring the battle around me, calm as tranquil waters at the heart of a hurricane, I lift... and fire.

My smile is gruesome, as I watch the fucker SCREAM.

Pity, it wasn't deep enough to kill. He turned. But I certainly took an eye. Kocked him from his pretty little horse. A grieving and bitter chokes free. I drop the bow. Turn to fight on. And... meet the eyes of Death.

Dragon eyes consider me, as they coolly assess. Storm grey hair like a war banner, crowning a face untouched by the brutality he's unleashing. The third prince, War God of the Golden Empire. Ah... I wonder if I should be honored? That humble Guhwa, required the Third Prince to destroy. Guess... ha ha, I guess my actions were not in vain. Just simply... not enough.

I glare. Bare my teeth like an animal. We will not die quietly. If they want our land? It will come blood soaked and in ASHES! Guhwa will give them NOTHING!

We do not BOW to the likes of YOU. Dogs!

Of course, though... the Gods Laugh. We are not favored. They make mockery, of humble Guhwa and it's pride. It's simple people. My Father, Our Lords, the Generals... all dead. They gather the defeated in ropes, on our knees. On the blood soaked ground before them. Women, children, and the wounded.

I kneel before them all, dragged alone to the front.

Their fear is like a terrible weight at my back. But... but I can not show it. Will not show it. I am Guhwa's crown now. So, on twisted ankle and screaming knees, I sit properly. Befitting my station. My head unbowwed, my shoulders back. Let them take my head before they take my pride.

I AM Guhwa.

The blonde pretty boy fop, stomps out to hiss and lord over me. Sedately his half brother follows, generals in tow. Blonde boy has a new eye patch. I smirk. Oh dear, bite more the you can chew? May the wound fester unto death, you wretch. I spit. Get a backhand for my troubles. (There are screams. Voices howling in outrage and begging on my behalf. Children start to cry. I do not deserve them. I do not deserve them.)

He draws back a foot to kick me. I do not cower. Bare teeth stained in defiance. Dare him.

"Finish that action, brother, and I will take the leg to match that eye."

There is only one person, here, who would dare threaten the crown prince of that wretched land. More importantly? Only one who could and get away with it. I turn, half disbelieving, only to meet a predators gaze. Dragon eyes, picking me apart. The War God stolling forward, like he's come to examine an art piece, not a prisoner.

Dispite my pride... I feel fear.

His reputation precedes him. And it is not kind.

Still, I clench my hands, grit my teeth, and tilt my head up in defiance. You are NOTHING before me, so called War God! Your Empire TRASH! My Guhwa is worth ten THOUSAND of your filthy little cess pits! I sneer. The picture of royal distain.

(I shake, as his mouth curves ever so slightly in amusement. He sees through me. He sees through me!!)

Cool eyes move from me to his brother. I watch as they turn from cool to a cold and flat I have no name for. Dragons and death. All my mind can scream at me, is those eyes are dragons and death. Run. Be afraid. There... there is nothing human there. Not anymore, if there ever was.

Distantly, I hear the "main love interest" stomp his feet like a child. Rage and demand. He wants my death. My suffering. Humiliation and desecration. How DARE I fight back. Pathetic. I can not keep my disgust from my face. Nor do I try.

The third prince looks bored. Like he's waiting for a child to be "done". Get his little tantrum out of the way. Anyone with eyes can tell a decision was already reached, will not be changing, and the Crown prince's spoiled demands will not be met. The price of battle, after all, is the risk of injury. Did he think this a game?

(Yes. He clearly did. It is winning him no favors.)

"You're in a delicate state brother. It's clear the pain has overwhelmed you." The third prince interrupts, clearly done with tolerating his half brother. "I would hate for you to take a turn for the worst. You should go lay down."

The Crown Prince startles, struggles, but is ultimately manhandled away. All but dragged, shouting and cursing, by his brothers loyal towards the medical tent. Oh dear. Politics at play. Sure hope I haven't condemned the fucker, now that he's not "perfect". That would be terrible!

"Enjoy seeing him suffer, do you? Or is it the humiliation of being dragged away?" Caught staring, my gaze snaps back to the third prince. That terrifying little quirk of the lips is back. He's amused. "It's not hard. I'll show you how to do it."

What.

"You'll have to tell me what other sort of things amuse you. So I can gather them. After all, you're not going to be leaving for a while. I imagine you'd cause trouble, wouldn't you?"

The thought of me causing "trouble" is what finally does it. Turning his smirk into a full, predatory, grin. Like he can't decide if we wants to bark out laughter or bite me. Eyes hyperfocused like he's hoping I'll run. Somehow, someway, bolting so he can chase me down.

(Ice slides down my spine. I... I refuse! T-To be AFRAID!)

Keeping my voice imperious, unafraid, I demand to know why, exactly, I would need to tell him ANYTHING. His laugh is the chuffing of a beast. The exhale of air, more then sound. How cute I am. How funny! Don't I know? Haven't I realized yet?

Guhwa's been conquered. And I have a choice, here.

Either Guhwa get a new king, by force, or it gets wiped of the map! And HOW is this to happen? Oh, little princess, you know exactly how. You're a warbride! But hey, at least you'll be his honored FIRST wife. Instead of a concubine. Like the crown prince wanted.

I jerk back. Ready to hiss exactly where he can shove his... HIS-! When I remember my people behind me. A child, trying bravely not to cry too loud. An elder, whispering prayers. Turning my head... I... I can just barely see them. Dirty, battered, bloody. Willing to follow me straight into hell. They would not blame me if I refused.

Only I would.

Gritting my teeth, I close my eyes. Breathe deep. In, hold, release. Again. For... damn it. DAMN IT! For Guhwa. Be it poison or knife. My hands around his filthy throat. I will burn their wretched nation to the ground. Dance on it's ashes and return a QUEEN.

"That's it. Right there." When I open my eyes, he's crouched in front of me, staring intently at my face. "Beautiful~"

"You'd tear my throat out with your teeth if I gave you even half a chance, wouldn't you? Rip out my entrails and choke me with them. You wear hate so well, princess. Rage. I wonder... what other emotions can I drag out of you?"

He seemed almost gleeful, as he mused.

"Ah, what a perfect little bride I've found. A lovely little monster."

"I can't wait to break you and make you mine."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Backburner 6

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss is easy going until he’s not. 

Characters: Sam Wilson, this reader is known as Dizzie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

Sam carries you inside with no effort at all. It takes all of yours not to scream. This is a nightmare.

It's bitter irony. You remember the day Sam hired you. You were so happy to get away from your old boss. Christine hated you with a passion.

She'd make sure everyone knew it at the daily meetings and she even insulted your clothes. You never reported her when she smacked you across the face for forgetting the expense report. Your tears threaten again and you suck them back.

Your parents always said there's something wrong with you. If they knew, they'd ask what you did to deserve this? Certainly you had to be the unprofessional one.

"Baby, don't be sad," Sam purrs as he carries you through am airy archway. "All I wanna do is make you happy..."

He brings you to the large sectional and sets you down. He grabs your knees and guides your legs over the edge. He winks and tugs his belt as he backs up.

"Stay like that."

He turns and struts up to the glass table near the wall. Your eyes scour the space. They cling to the humongous flatscreen. It's gotta be 80 inches!l

He takes a remote and flips it on. You stare dumbly. He didn't bring you here to watch the Oscar noms.

He set the remote down and a menu pops up with familiar music. You frown as he nears and holds out the colourful controller. A joycon.

"I know you like games, baby, so your going to play one while I play mine," he purrs. He grips his hips and wiggles so you can see his erection beneath his slacks. "You're gonna see if you can set up your island before I make you cum all over my face."

He drops to his knees and you whimper. You glance up at the start screen for Animal Crossing. How does he know?

He grabs your knees and you flinch.

"Sam?"

"Shhh, you don't wanna get distracted."

He pushes your knees wide and you squirm. You're so mortified as your skirt slips up your thighs that you can't do anything more than grasp onto the familiar. You enter an Island name as he kneads your tender flesh, feeling up and down your legs.

You gulp as your hands shake on the controller. You can't think. You don't have to when you're playing.

You shudder as he bows and tugs your skirt over his head. His hot breath clouds beneath and dampens your pelvis.

You wait for the island to load and get your villagers. You can't even be happy that you got Judy as you shudder at his touch. Sam pushes his index between your lips and hums as he toys with your clit.

You twitch and he tuts. He drags his finger down and replaces it with his mouth. He sucks your bud and you squeak. He chuckles as his words echo in your head, how he likes that noise.

He flicks his tongue up and down. You gasp as the contrast of hot and cold. He keeps your legs splayed as he delves in, groaning hungrily as he laps. He rolls his face into you, licking and suckling, breathing heavy as he devours you.

You struggle to get around the island, pushing the stick too far right then nearly dropping the joycon altogether. You lean back into the couch as he swirls around your clit and teases lightly with his teeth. Your lega quiver and tingle.

You heave and shift, making it worse as his finger slips down your folds. He rubs your entrance and purrs. You whine and curl your toes.

Everyone's right. You're a fuck up. You get yourself in trouble then pout at your own dumb luck.

You moan and drop the controller as he pushes his finger into you. He curls it and rubs along the top of your cunt. You hiss and scramble to grab the joycon.

He slides deeper and you slap the cushions, bracing as he works his hand and mouth in tandem.

You writher and fumble. You don't know where the controller is. You tilt your head back and drone. You reach to him but can't bring yourself to push him away.

You clasp onto the fabric above Sam's head and roll your hips. He slowly pulls his finger out and lines up as second. He stretches you around both as the boppy Animal Crossing music plays.

This is so wrong. You shouldn't just let him do this. You shouldn't like it!

He trails his other hand down your leg and hooks it over his shoulder. His fingers massage your flesh as he growls into you.

You huff and heave as the heat tendrils up your body. You can barely contain yourself as you feel ready to overflow. You tip over the edge and shake as the sudden release swells over and gushes from you.

Your orgasm squicks out around his fingers and he stretches his tongue down to drink it up. He presses his thumb to your clit and wiggles his hand, spilling another tide of delight onto the couch. You tug your skirt back and snarl as you soak the cushion and his face.

"Mmmmmm," he hums and nuzzles your cunt. He sits back, shameless of the slickness dripping down his chin. "You do taste sweet, Diz."

He hooks your other leg over his shoulder and jolts your forward. You slip down with a yelp. In an instant, he flips you, resting his head in the puddle of your ecstasy as he brings you onto his face.

"Go on and ride me, baby," he nips your thigh then burrows in your cunt again.

[deanorosphoto]

FROZEN SHORES OF LAKE SUPERIOR: A DOUBLE EXPOSURE PHOTOGRAPH OF THUNDER BAY'S MAIN LIGHTHOUSE

Blanketed in snow, the waters of Lake Superior near the shore are locked in ice. Amid this frozen expanse, the Thunder Bay Main Lighthouse stands solitary and steadfast.

Built in 1937, this striking two-story structure serves as a beacon on the breakwater of Thunder Bay, Ontario, in the heart of Superior Country. Painted white with bold red accents, it rises 43 feet (13 meters) above the icy waters, its lantern room guiding vessels safely into the harbor. Though the breakwater remains disconnected from the mainland and inaccessible to the public, the lighthouse can be admired from the water by boat or from afar along the Thunder Bay Waterfront.

OWN IT

Frozen Shores of Lake Superior is available as a custom fine-art print in various sizes. Bring a piece of nature home—order yours today.

THE ART OF VIEWING PHOTOGRAPHY

Photography originated as an art form designed to be experienced in person, much like painting and sculpture. Yet, in today’s digital age, images are often AI-generated and fleeting, confined to the endless scroll of social media and backlit monitors. True nature photography—captured by a human behind the lens and meticulously crafted into tangible fine art prints—unveils depth, texture, and storytelling in a way digital screens simply cannot replicate.

New to collecting photography? I'll help you! I'm always happy to guide clients in making informed photography decisions. Please feel free to reach out.

SIDE NOTE: FAT BIKING IN WINTER

As I sip my morning latte and write this, I know I’ll soon be stepping into the crisp, icy air—last night’s temperatures dropped to -23℃ (-9.4℉).

Northern Ontario winters have a magic all their own, and today, that magic leads me to a fat biking trail adventure. Equipped with studded winter tires, it should be fun! Hmmm... to bring a camera or not? How do you enjoy winter?

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[lilacxquartz]

I saw from your post back in october that you might do requests.. for reigen arataka... teehee

What if the loser man got drunk while hanging out with reader , and as reader's holding reigen's hair back when throwing up, he confesses to them drunk.. 👁👁💧💧💧💧

untimely confessions;

reigen arataka x reader

plot: after a night on the town and an unfortunate morning of you nursing the guy, reigen confesses something special — themes: fluff, romance, confession, reigen being reigen — cw: alcohol, sickness — w.c: 1.4k • masterlist

a/n: ahah, you bet i can! this insert can be read as gender neutral so feel free to insert as you’d like 🫶

Out of all of the things you thought you would do in life—going on a date with Reigen Arataka was never one of them.

You bumped into him by chance initially, recognising him as your once good friend that you had long drifted apart from and somehow, by the end of the discussion, you found yourself not only exchanging details and texting him just like old times, but also agreeing to go out for a drink with him.

And so, there you were by the end of the evening, hunched over a bar stool, watching on with fascination as the guy really tried to haggle the fixed bar price for drinks, completely unashamed of what he was attempting to do.

After a while, Reigen then swooped back in to your side, leaning shoulder to shoulder with you as he proudly presented a bottle of partially open sake, and what appeared to be two egg cups instead of glasses.

You couldn’t help but warily sigh as a result, wondering just what strange trouble you were getting yourself into. Though, if you had to be truly honest, you did suppose that he was entertaining and after a while, you found yourself listening to one of his many overly exaggerated stories, where he claimed to be something close to a god.

(Despite you knowing fully well, that he was in fact, a conman.)

“I’m telling you,” he continued, trying to cosy up to you at the same time, “I’m that kid’s hero,” he emphasised, trying to prove a point, “I saved him and now I’m paying him back with my masterful expertise and techniques—”

“Such as your ‘salt technique’?” you couldn’t help but point out, reluctantly taking a sip from the egg cup.

Reigen faltered slightly, but kept on going, unable to let his pride suffer, “It’s an ancient special technique, ghosts hate salt, probably.”

Your eyes widened as did your smile. “Oh sure, let’s go with that. Ghosts famously hate salt –that’s right.”

Reigen seemed to ignore your sarcasm, pushing past it, or perhaps was oblivious to it altogether. Instead, he knocked back yet another drink all the while you were still sipping on your second. You didn’t quite trust the state of this bar—Reigen was fine, he was seedy, but only as a conman—it was just the fact this bar was empty on a Friday night that was offputting.

(Or maybe, it was somehow impressive?)

Noticing your thoughtful expression, however, Reigen swept in with the moves, something he called one of his special techniques, coining the ability as ‘masterful flirtation’. “You know,” he murmured, dropping his voice to a low, slurring drone, “I don’t just bring anyone here,” he revealed, swinging his arm around your shoulders. “No, no… this place is special. You can feel it too, right? Psychic to psychic. It has a sort of… unique energy, perhaps attuned to fulfill your wildest dreams come true.”

You blinked, plucking his arm off of you.

“Reigen, please,” you sighed, shaking your head, “the only thing that this place is attuned to is food poisoning.”

He nervously laughed in response, trying to shake off his failed attempt at winning your heart, quickly retreating to renew his cup of sake, hastily forcing it down with one big gulp.

Soon though, he grew almost comically drunk, with his cheeks all rosy and his posture swaying back and forth. He could barely hold his ground, all the while, you were completely fine. You sighed as you physically had to wrangle him out of ordering more, dragging him out of the bar and into the cool air that met you both from the second you slipped outside.

“You smell so nice,” he slurred as he leaned his into you, trying to find his balance, while you instead tried to drag him back home, “so, so nice…”

“Uhuh, follow the scent home, I suppose,” you muttered under your breath, “what way do you live exactly?”

Reigen pointed in a whole slew of directions, eventually leading you back towards his consultation office. You blinked, turning to face him while he hadn’t a clue what was going on. “Do you live in your office or are you just confused?”

“It saves money, alright?” he whined slightly, though quickly schooled his reaction to mean something prideful instead, “I’m good with frugality, you see.”

“More like good at giving yourself the worst hangovers,” you shook your head, your voice laced with a hint of sympathy, “did you really have to drink that much, Reigen?”

He rolled his eyes back at you, dismissing your concerns with the wave of his hand. “It’s fine. I’ve done this before. I’ve got a gut made of steel, I totally can handle—” he burped, swallowing something rather unpleasant down, “...hold that thought.”

Your eyes widened in the realisation of what was yet to come. “Oh, god.”

Quickly, Reigen dipped a hand into the pocket of his slacks, planting the key right into your hand. In a flash, you opened up the door, tugging him upstairs and letting go of him briefly as he stumbled towards the bathroom. You reluctantly followed him, figuring that you might as well see him through this unfortunate experience, feeling a little bad about what could potentially happen should you leave him alone.

“This sucks,” Reigen moaned all the while, flinging his forward once again, “but you don’t,” he added in between breaths, focusing on you between the bouts of nausea, “you’re so good to me, even when I get so embarrassing,” he sighed, feeling the shame settle in. “Why’d you even come out with me tonight?”

“I’m starting to ask myself that…” you trailed off before shaking your head, choosing to play the role of who he needed you to be right now, a good, helpful friend, he’s done that for you in the past too, “but no, really, I just wanted to catch up. We go way back, right?”

His lips melted into a lazy smile, his eyes glazed and red as he focused on you for a moment more than he had meant to. “Yeah, I suppose we do… besides, I… I had a really good time with you, I’ve got to say,” he admitted, “I missed hanging out like this,” he paused, “well, not like this… but you know, just out, together.”

“Yeah, it’s a shame you still can’t hold your liquor though, maybe we should figure out something else to do the next time I’m in town,” you suggested.

“The next time?” Reigen paused, seeming surprised. “You mean… you’re still willing to hang out with me?”

You rolled your eyes in response. “Of course, I know what you’re really like. One night of you being drunk out of your mind is nothing I can’t handle. Maybe we should go bowling? Or try an escape room? I feel like those types of things could be fun.”

“Yeah, maybe,” he nodded in agreement, regretting the decision to do so as yet more alcohol left his body, “but… maybe when I’m not dying. I feel like this is really it actually… this is how I’ll go.”

You nudged his shoulder playfully. “You’re fine. You’re not dying. I’ll make sure of it. Stay right here and I’ll pop over to a convenience store, alright? I’ll get you something that you can actually keep down and not suffer of dehydration too much the next day.”

Reigen nodded, waiting for your return. He continued to be sick all the while, gripping onto the porcelain throne for his dear life. By the time you had come back though—he seemed in an even worse shape than before, his eyes wide, almost manic—locked onto you like you were some sort of divine saviour.

Just as you were about to tell him to take a few slow sips of the drink though, he spoke up first before you ever had the chance.

“I love you.”

You froze as soon as you heard it. “You what?”

He lifted his chin slightly, his bloodshot eyes meeting yours with an affectionate stare. It was so strange, but he seemed to be genuine as if this was a truth that he had known deep in his gut for the longest time.

“I mean it,” he continued, “I love you.”

You stared at him for a long time, trying to gauge whether or not it was a joke, but again, he very much meant it—it was obvious, even.

“You’re drunk,” you dismissed initially, handing him the bottle.

“So? I don’t have to be sober to understand my feelings,” he argued, “you didn’t have to do all of this either, but you did because you’re amazing, and I… was always too much of a coward to say it, but… I love you.”

You remained silent beyond that point, a million thoughts running through your head at once.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” he repeated, leaning forward, before realising that he was covered in sick and then leaning back slightly as a result, giving you some space.

“Aw man,” you lightheartedly sighed, “why’s this working?”

It was honestly ridiculous when you really thought about it, but there was something oddly endearing about everything that had unfolded that night. With anyone else, you would have run for the hills if they put you through what they did tonight, but the fact that you felt comfortable enough with Reigen to keep going, obviously said a lot about how you felt, too. As much as you hated to admit it, you wouldn’t do this for just anyone.

He laughed at your unsure response, seemingly on the verge of tears. Oh, what a pathetic man. You were absolutely so sure that you did in return, but you couldn’t admit such a thing to him while he was covered in sick.

No, he had to be cleaned up, looking at least 40% presentable to society.

Besides, you were looking forward to seeing him become impossibly flustered, maybe even panicked at the prospect of his drunken confession catching up to him when he was sober.

Oh, you couldn’t wait for that, in fact.

Just thinking about what he’d say then.