#in the end everything's always about money

[wilwheaton]

The Democratic National Committee has decided to double down on the same losing strategies that lost it the last election. Newly elected DNC Chair Ken Martin on Monday named Roger Lau as executive director of the committee. Lau has been serving as the DNC’s deputy executive director since 2021, joining the committee after running Elizabeth Warren’s unsuccessful 2020 presidential campaign.

DNC Rehires Same People Who Oversaw Crushing Defeat to Trump

These fucking guys, I swear to god.

Fuck the career losers at the DNC. They will get no money, no time, no energy from me. Everything I’ve always given to the party will now go toward whatever we end up calling the Democratic incarnation of the Tea Party.

These vichy fucks have been wrong about everything. They are the reason Governor Walz stopped correctly pointing out how weird and lame all these MAGA lunatics are. He should have OBLITERATED Vance in the debate, and it was a draw, because the DNC and those idiot consultants forced Walz to stop doing everything that voters loved.

The DNC is cowardly, willing to give away ten miles of progress so they can celebrate barely clawing back one inch (and then its back to the endless fundraising).

America may never come back from this. I may be taking all of my privilege and using it to emigrate to a country that cares about human beings and isn’t controlled by these deporables.

But if it is going to come back, the current Democratic leadership and the DNC won’t be part of it. If they spent half the energy attacking Trump and his neonzais that they spend attacking progressives in primaries, we probably wouldn’t be here.

So if we are to save America and all of the most vulnerable people who live here, we have to get rid of the weak, comfortable, wildly out of touch consultants and corporate centrists who are protecting Trump and his neonazis from the wrath of the American people.

We outnumber them by orders of magnitude -- all of them, not just the evil republicans, the corporate democrats, too -- and if we can get organized, we can force change.

[astrolook]

Birth Chart Family Secrets: What Your Planets Reveal About Home Life

1st House:

Sun - Whether you liked it or not, you were the center of attention. Your father probably made sure everyone knew you were the one to watch.

Moon - Your mother is either super loving or way too overbearing. Emotional rollercoaster, anyone? 🎢

Venus - you could be superficial at times in family gatherings. Maybe you don't want certain people around you.

Mars - You probably had some fiery family debates. “Who’s going to win this time?” 💥

Jupiter - You grew up with big dreams. Sometimes, your parents pushed you to take on more than you could handle. 🌍

Saturn - Your self-image was shaped by heavy responsibility. From a young age, you probably had to grow up fast, especially with your family’s expectations weighing on you. 👔

Uranus - You were the odd one out in the family. Probably the rebel who challenged norms and didn’t fit into the “traditional” family mold. ⚡

Neptune - Your sense of self might’ve been blurry. Family life felt like a dream—or maybe a fog. Were they loving, or were they distant? Sometimes it was hard to tell. 🌊

Pluto - You either love your family or hate them. Nothing in-between. Adopted children sometimes have this placement in their birth chart.

2nd House:

Sun - Money and security were at the core of your family’s identity. Success and status were everything, and your parents probably emphasized these values constantly. 💰

Moon - Whether your parents showered you with material goods or made you feel guilty for wanting more, there was always an emotional attachment to what you had. 💸

Mercury - Your family talked about money a lot. If you have a younger sibling, they could be earning well or would earn well.

Venus - Your family's way of showing affection and love is through gifts, comfort and luxury - whether it was food or designer shoes. It also shows you have a sweet tooth.

Mars - There was probably some tension over money, especially when it came to what was “mine” vs. “yours.” You learned to fight for your share, especially in a big family. 💥

Jupiter - If you have an elder sibling, they could be earning well and would spoil you with gifts or just buy you big things. Your parents probably showered you with bigger items or maybe you have a collection of these.

Saturn - The values in your home were built around hard work and discipline. Money didn’t come easily, and your family probably taught you that nothing was given to you.

Uranus - Unexpected financial situations and rebellious spending habits were a thing. You might have had a family that was either too conservative or too experimental when it came to money. 💡

Neptune - You probably saw your family’s relationship with money as a bit hazy. Was there enough, or was it all a mirage? Confusion was the name of the game.

Pluto - Power struggles around money. You might’ve grown up seeing money as a way to control or dominate.

3rd House:

Sun - You were probably the star of family discussions. Your voice was always heard, whether you wanted it to be or not. 👑

Moon - You communicated emotionally with them. Whether it was through feelings or moods, you shared your inner world with your family. Sometimes it was a bit much for them to handle. 😅

Mercury - Family conversations were fast-paced, witty, and a little too sharp sometimes. Growing up, you had to keep up with all the intellectual chatter. 🗣️

Venus - Your communication was all about harmony and beauty. You probably had the smoothest way with words—making everything sound more loving than it really was. 💕

Mars - You argued. A lot. You had the spirit of a warrior in family discussions. If you didn’t get your point across, you’d fight until the very end.

Jupiter - Your family encouraged you to think big and never settle for small talk. 🌍

Saturn - You may have felt like there was little room for emotion in your family’s conversations. 📜

Uranus - Your family probably had unconventional ways of communicating. Forget normal—there were oddball opinions flying around.

Neptune - Your family’s way of communicating was either filled with fantasy or complete miscommunication.

Pluto - Things get real fast, and sometimes, it was like you were discussing life-or-death issues at the dinner table. 🔥

4th House:

Sun - Your family probably made sure everyone knew you came from good stock. 🏡

Moon - Your family could be supportive and nurturing—or super moody and unpredictable.

Mercury - There were always family meetings, talks, and debates. Sometimes it was exhausting!

Venus - Your home was probably filled with art, nice things, and a lot of effort to create a peaceful atmosphere. 🖼️

Mars - There were likely a lot of arguments, physical activity, and maybe even fights over space and control. 🔥

Jupiter - You could be from a big family. Your home was probably full of optimism, maybe even too optimistic, and your parents encouraged you to think big. 🌍

Saturn - Two words - childhood trauma.

Uranus - Your family’s ways were always a bit… out there.

Neptune - You might’ve felt like things weren’t as they seemed, with a bit of an illusionary family dynamic.

Pluto - Family secrets or a secret family?

5th House:

Sun - Your childhood was likely full of performances, plays, or maybe even "My child is special" moments. 🎨

Moon - Emotions were a big part of your creative process, and your parents probably encouraged you to share your heart openly (sometimes too much). 💫

Mercury - Your family might’ve had clever inside jokes and sometimes you could have felt misunderstood.

Venus - Family valued beauty and art. Either you or your parents see the beauty in things or could be highly judgmental based on one's appearance.

Mars - You probably fought for attention in the family. Middle child syndrome.

Jupiter - Your family thought you could do it all.

Saturn - Your parents were strict about how you channeled your creative energy. 🏗️

Uranus - You probably rebelled against the “traditional” forms of expression. ⚡

Neptune - Your family’s vision of creativity was often dreamy, and it might’ve felt like there was a lot of idealization and escapism. 🌊

Pluto - Your family probably dealt with intense emotional highs and lows surrounding your self-expression. What you created could’ve sparked big changes. 🔥

6th House:

Sun - Health and daily routines were a big deal. Your family likely expected you to be disciplined with your body, maybe even pushing you toward a healthy lifestyle (even if you didn’t want to). 🏃‍♂️

Moon - Your family encouraged comfort, but it may have felt like an emotional rollercoaster when it came to health and wellness.

Mercury - Family advice on how to stay healthy. Sometimes too specific - eat this, not that.

Venus - Your family might have connected self-care routines with beauty—taking care of the body was just as much about looking good. 💅

Mars - Your family probably had a work hard, play hard mentality that may have led to burning the candle at both ends. 🔥

Jupiter - Your family believed in the power of positive thinking when it came to health, sometimes a bit too much. “Everything will be fine—just eat a salad!” 🥗

Saturn - Your family probably emphasized discipline over indulgence. “Get up early, work hard, and don’t complain!” ⏰

Uranus - Your family might’ve tried alternative methods or medicines that weren’t exactly mainstream. You probably rebelled against the standard family diet or wellness practices. ⚡

Neptune - Your family might’ve been either too focused on wellness myths or completely vague about it. A lot of idealistic views on “feeling better” but no real plans.

Pluto - Whether it was a major illness or personal transformation, your family might’ve faced some deep health-related struggles. 🔥

7th house:

Sun - Your would always have an opinion on your relationships/partnerships. You could even be the high earner in your family or would become one.

Moon - Your family was either overly supportive of your relationships or way too involved emotionally in every romantic decision you made. 😅

Mercury - Your family had constant discussions about your relationships, offering advice (sometimes unsolicited) and diving deep into every detail. 🗣️

Venus - Your family could be pushing the ideal of what true love or marriage should be.

Mars - Arguments in partnerships were common.

Jupiter - Your family probably has an expectation to expand your connections (sometimes to an overwhelming degree). 🌍

Saturn - Serious relationships were a big deal. Your family probably emphasized commitment and long-term partnerships. They were strict when it came to your choices in relationships. You either marry late or marry an older partner or not marry at all.

Uranus - Your family might’ve had a unique view on relationships, supporting unconventional or non-traditional pairings like same-sex relationships/marriages.

Neptune - Your family’s take on love might have been idealized, or there were a lot of illusions about what partnerships should be. 🌊

Pluto - Your relationship with your family is either intense emotionally or non-existent. Could also be living far away from family.

8th House:

Sun - your relationship with your father is either too intense or distant completely. Sometimes I have seen people with this placement who father died before the native turned 30.

Moon - Ancestral secrets. Could be mixed race. Internal conflicts with mother or family.

Mercury - Either you or your younger sibling could be homosexual or bi-sexual.

Venus - You could be having 2 or more sources of income. Your spouse could be richer than you. Wealth through marriage is possible.

Mars - Power struggles were a big part of the family dynamic.

Jupiter - Family business is possible here. Your family likely believed in the idea of growth through joint ventures or life-changing transformations. 🌍

Saturn - Family dynamics may involve financial burdens, secrecy, or a strong sense of responsibility toward ancestral debts.

Uranus - Family dynamics may be unpredictable, with sudden financial changes, unexpected inheritances, or unconventional attitudes toward death and shared resources. There could be secrets or shocks related to ancestry.

Neptune - Family matters may involve illusions, secrecy, or hidden emotional depths, possibly linked to financial deception, spiritual inheritance, or unclear ancestral ties.

Pluto - Generational trauma, or transformative experiences related to death, inheritance, or deep emotional bonds. There may be themes of secrecy, rebirth, and karmic debts within the family.

9th House:

Sun - Family identity is shaped by beliefs, education, or foreign roots; a strong father figure may be a guide.

Moon - Emotional connection to family comes through travel, spirituality, or distant relatives; a nurturing yet changeable home.

Mercury - Frequent relocations and you may even know more than one language.

Venus - Values centered on culture, arts, or diplomacy; may have wealth from in-laws.

Mars - Family tension with in-laws.

Jupiter - Luck through ancestors.

Saturn - Strict family beliefs, possible limitations in education or foreign connections; wisdom comes with time.

Uranus - Unconventional family traditions, sudden moves abroad, or a rebellion against cultural norms.

Neptune - Mystical or unclear family background, possible illusions about origins, or religious/spiritual ties.

Pluto - Intense, transformative family beliefs; deep ancestral karma or hidden power dynamics in the lineage.

10th House:

Sun - Your family basically handed you a résumé at birth. Success and reputation were everything, and you were expected to make the family name proud—no pressure.

Moon - Family might’ve been emotionally invested in your career choices. “Are you sure you want to be an artist? What about law school?” 🎭

Mercury - Career advice came constantly. Your family always had opinions on what you should do, and you probably learned to communicate professionally before you could even walk. 💼

Venus - Your family wanted you to have a respectable job that looked good—maybe even one that involved art, fashion, or diplomacy. 🎨

Mars - Family pressure to succeed at all costs may have left you feeling like you had to fight for recognition. Career competition might’ve started at the dinner table. 🏋️‍♂️

Jupiter - Big expectations, big ambitions. Your family believes that you are destined for greatness, whether that meant running a company, publishing books, or becoming someone important.

Saturn - Family expectations around success were strict, and you probably felt like you had to work twice as hard to prove yourself. Work-life balance? What’s that? 😬

Uranus - Family may have wanted stability, but you likely rebelled and chose an unconventional profession. “So, you’re telling me you want to be a… YouTuber?”

Neptune - Maybe your family pushed you toward a dream job that didn’t align with reality. “Just follow your passion, money will come!” (Will it, though?) 😵‍💫

Pluto - Your family’s expectations may have felt overwhelming, pushing you to transform your career path multiple times before finding your true calling. 🔥

11th House:

Sun - Either they knew all your friends or expected you to network your way to success. “It’s not what you know, it’s who you know.” 🤝

Moon - Either your family was super involved in your friendships, or you felt emotionally connected to finding your people outside of home.

Mercury - Your family loved discussing big ideas and future goals. Conversations were filled with debates about the world, innovation, and why society needs to change.

Venus - Your family probably valued charm, diplomacy, and making connections with the right people. 👑

Mars - Friendships = competition. Arguments with friends? Likely a common theme.

Jupiter - Your family encouraged big dreams and global connections. Travel, education, and broadening your horizons were a major focus. “Why settle for one country when you can live in five?”

Saturn - Socializing wasn’t always easy. Friendships might have felt like serious business, and making connections took effort. Your family may have encouraged quality over quantity.

Uranus - Your family encouraged uniqueness. You probably felt like the odd one out growing up, but your family may have secretly admired your rebellious streak. “You’ll thank us when you’re older.”

Neptune - Family encouraged you to dream big, but sometimes, social expectations felt blurry. “Just trust the universe!” 🌌

Pluto - Your family might have taught you that not all friends are who they seem. 🕵️‍♂️

12th House:

Sun - Your identity felt hidden in the family. Maybe you were the one keeping secrets, or perhaps your family just didn’t see the real you until later in life. “Oh, you have feelings? Weird.”

Moon - Deep emotional wounds from childhood may have made you feel like you had to suppress emotions. Your family may have been emotionally distant or unknowingly made you feel invisible. 😶‍🌫️

Mercury - Your thoughts were often private or misunderstood. You may have been the one in the family who kept deep reflections to yourself.

Venus - You may have been raised to give without expecting anything in return. Maybe your family had a history of romanticizing suffering. “Love means giving everything!” 🥀

Mars - Internal battles? Too real. You were probably raised in an environment where conflict was hidden, and learning to assert yourself took time. But when you do fight back? It’s explosive.

Jupiter - Whether it was spirituality, religion, or trusting the process, your family pushed you toward a higher understanding. ✨

Saturn - Isolation, responsibility, and heavy lessons. You may have felt alone in your struggles, and your family likely reinforced themes of sacrifice and patience. You were the “old soul” kid.

Uranus - Your upbringing was unpredictable. Maybe you felt disconnected from your family or experienced unexpected shifts that shaped your identity in ways no one saw coming.

Neptune - Family life may have felt like a dream—or a complete illusion. Maybe there were secrets, blurred truths, or unspoken expectations. “Everything’s fine!” (It wasn’t.)

Pluto - You may have had to navigate shadows from an early age, experiencing profound losses or intense emotional shifts that made you stronger than you realize. 🔥

💫 Your birth chart holds all the tea on your childhood, family dynamics, and why you turned out the way you did. Want to know exactly how your planets shaped your upbringing, relationships, and even your subconscious patterns?

📩 Message me for a Complete Birth Chart Reading and uncover the full story behind your everything! ✨

Karmic Paths & Soul Purpose: A Complete Guide to the North Nodes & South Nodes in Astrology (13-page report) - $5

Get my full PDF guide for just $5! Payment via PayPal. Once payment is confirmed, I will send you the PDF. It covers North Node & South Node in signs & houses, who you were in your past life, your career, family, love and your relationships in detail. Message me to grab your copy! 🌟

Note : Due to different time zones, I might not reply immediately. Don't worry! Leave me your email address for me to send the password-protected PDF file. Once the payment is confirmed, I will give you the password to access to it.

[cheyisagirlkisser]

⃠ CYBER SEX. (SEVIKA + VI + READER ) ⃠

➤┆pairing: sevika + vi + fem reader

↻┆word count: 3k

⚠︎┆warnings: dom! sevika + switch vi + sub! reader, sevika guides you and vi through phone sex, degrading names (whore, slut) and nicknames (angel, good girl, Sevika is called 'Vika once), teasing, fingering + clit stim + strap-on sex (r! receiving), slight pain kink, mentions of vi receiving from sevika, threats of punishment from sevika, mentions of sexism from sevika's male coworkers (she's in construction).

Description: Sevika is the main breadwinner in you, her, and Vi's. She makes a lot of money, but is also often busier than the both of you. The week-long business trips are something she doesn't look forward to-being away from her girls for days to weeks at a time. You and Vi decide to make matters worse for her when you get feel neglected on a call that was supposed to relax your exhausted girlfriend.

You'd think after countless business trips away from home that Sevika would be used to the separation, but no. She misses you and Vi more than anything. She finds a stupid grin forming on her face when she imagines the both of you on the couch, probably watching something she would make fun of and eating junk food. She keeps telling herself she only has two days left to go. Then, it's the four hour road trip until she can finally give her girlfriends some attention.

Sevika's longing is loving. It's soft and sweet, though anyone else would find that to be rare from her. You and Vi just bring out that ooey-gooey part of her heart out. With that lead to sweeter-than-chocolate kisses and late nights that she knows she shouldn't be awake for, having to wake up at 5 in the morning, but ends up between the two of you anyway.

Her current mood is anything but horny. She is tired after a long day of construction work and being around dickhead coworkers, and she could use a shower to wash off the sweat from her body. Sex isn't exactly the priority in her mind.

Still, she imagines that it'll be like to return home. You and Vi must be so needy. You always are after a week without Sevika. The routine is all the same—walk through the door, take a quick shower, and fuck the brains out of you two.

You're a bottom through and through. You couldn't top even if someone was pointing a gun to your head. Vi, on the contrary, has no reason to. She could if she was in the particular mood for it, but why would she? Sevika takes care of both of you best. She knows that you love being held down and fucked, how you like Vi's thumb on your clit adding onto the pleasure. Sevika knows that Vi likes it more complicated. Vi likes to pretend like she isn't as flustered as she truly is when Sevika has her legs open and her pussy on display, but the girl can get even wetter than you can at times. Everything is in routine, and that is just how Sevika likes it.

Sitting in her hotel room, Sevika waits impatiently for the call. Earlier, Vi sent a dry text requesting a facetime. That didn't raise any suspicions in her head. Almost every time Sevika leaves for a trip, either you or Vi send something asking when she is available. It makes her heart jump to think of her girls being without her. She wonders how Vi fares without someone to tell her not to punch a hole in the wall, and instead use the punching bag Sevika spent a ridiculous amount of money on. She wonders how you fare without the constant reassurance. You're on the overthinking side, and Sevika has probably said enough to put into a book. She doesn't mind it one bit, though.

This time, Sevika feels extra excited to talk. She just wants to kick her boots off, see you and Vi's faces, and forget about having two more days of hard labor.

She wants a distraction.

You and Vi have been dying without Sevika.

Usually, the days go by fast. You're both able to wait for Sevika's touch. You don't have to think too much about the way her fingers would feel in you, and Vi doesn't have to fuck herself on the dildo attached to Sevika's strap to manage. Today, however, both of you seemed to break.

It started with Vi.

(EARLIER..)

"She wouldn't know if we did it. How would she?" Vi inquires, leaning in. Her hand that has been teasingly rubbing your thigh for the past 30 minutes is creeping upward. Her voice is quiet, as if Sevika is able to hear her from countless miles away.

"C'mon, Vi.." You shoo her away, moving her hand back down to safe territory. "We can wait two days. Plus, I think it's only you that's all horny. I've been doing fine."

Vi snorts at that. "Are you fucking kidding me? Babe, you've been all over me all day."

"Okay!? What does that have to do with being pent-up?" You scoff at her, punishing her by breaking eye contact. Your gaze falls back onto the tv in front of you.

Vi doesn't scooch away to her personal space. Instead, she leans in. Her breath tickles your ear, making you swallow back your guilt because fuck, just her proximity is making you wet.

"What do you mean, 'what does that have to do with being pent-up'? You're basically begging to be fucked. All the hugs and kisses..the way you've guided my hands to your waist each morning when we wake up.." Vi tests you by inching her hand back up, just enough to make your breath hitch.

You turn to face her, and that is when Vi knows she has you. You're like a fish she can just reel in. Your bait runs cheap, too. "But, Vi..I don't wanna keep anything from Sevika. We would be fucked if she found out." And no, not in a good way..

The smile that spreads across Vi's face scares you. She has something going on in her head—it's that same face she makes before she goes Christmas shopping, the same glint in her eyes that sparkles on April Fool's day.

She cups your face to hold eye contact, and then she leans in until your lips are nearly touching. Your most pathetic but natural instinct is to squeeze your thighs together.

"Then let's make sure she knows what we're going to do tonight."

When Sevika answers the call, she is greeted with the familiar sight of you and Vi on your shared bed.

She can immediately tell that Vi is using her laptop to call because the quality is slightly better, and she can see both of your bodies instead of just faces. Vi usually never uses the laptop for calls unless it's for a specific reason, but she doesn't question it tonight. She just wants to see her girls.

You're seated comfortably in Vi's lap, where it isn't exactly rare for you to sit. Still, something feels different about the view. You don't have the same excited expression. You look nervous, as if you have something to hide from Sevika. Perhaps if Sevika wasn't so exhausted from the job today, she'd notice the scheming written all over Vi's face.

"Hi, baby. Hi, Vi." She greets you both, her voice thick with a fatigued rasp.

"Hi, 'Vika!" You smile at her, making her heart melt slightly. All feels right when she can talk to the both of you.

"Any sexist comments today?" Vi asks her.

Sevika scoffs. "Wouldn't be a normal day without one."

Conversation is normal and comforting for Sevika. It always is.

You tend to remind Sevika how much you miss her when you talk. You ask her if she misses you, if she's tried the cookies you baked for her trip, if she has been thinking about you. Vi asks the work related questions. The sexism question is always a go-to.

"Of course. What was it this time, something about how your coworker's wife just stays in the kitchen and you should, too?"

Sevika shakes her head. "Nah, not today. That was last month's. It was this guy, really short and ginger. Overheard him talking shit about women with muscles on them. I guess he didn't want me to hear, 'cause he looked all pale and skittish. Super fuckin' quiet. I could hear the dumbass, though."

Sevika goes on about her day to Vi, and Vi visibly nods along. She doesn't seem to pay too much attention to it at first, but as she complains about her coworker Ricky not knowing how to read a blueprint, she sees Vi's hand almost fully between your legs. In those pajama shorts you're wearing, it leaves nothing to the imagination. She can see the way Vi's hand almost slips inside them from the bottom, rubbing teasing circles on the inside of your thigh.

"You're pretty handsy, don't you think?" Sevika snorts, not thinking much of it.

Vi's answer catches her surprised, "well, this thing has been begging for it all week."

Sevika's eyes narrow and her face heats up, but you seem caught off-guard by Vi's words as well. You don't comment on them, though. You don't make a move to pull away from her embrace. In fact, Sevika can now point out the way you almost instinctively move to shut your legs around vi's hand. Vi will tap your leg and you quickly open back up to Sevika's view.

Sevika sighs, brushing it off. "Anyways, just wanted to say I missed you both. It's been a long fuckin' week. I was planning on going to bed soon, but-"

You let out a short, but noticeable moan when Vi's fingers circle your clit through your shorts.

"Alright, what the fuck is going on with you two?" Sevika demands, annoyance clear in her voice. But behind it, you can hear some ounce of arousal.

"I told you. This slut's been all over me, Sev." Vi simply states, not giving away any future plans. She doesn't stop with her ministrations, and Sevika has to helplessly watch as you needily writhe under Vi's touch. Three hands firmly rub your clothed pussy, and all you can do is whine and whisper in Vi's ear for more, too scared to speak up loud enough for Sevika to hear and have a reason to bend you over her knee when she gets home. Sevika notices, though.

"Are you seriously about to fuck her on camera? I'm not messing around, Vi. Cut the shit, or I'll make you regret it the moment I step through the door." Sevika growls.

"What's wrong with me taking care of her? She needs me, Sevika. Look at her. I gotta give her what she wants before she's your problem on Friday." Vi abruptly peels your pajama pants off of your body. Even in the slightly grainy video, Sevika can see the wet patch on your panties. You already know you'll still be Sevika's problem when she gets back home, but you don't care. You want to get fucked now, and Vi's touch leaves you a bit forgetful when it comes to the potential consequences of this.

Now, Sevika is pissed. She is both pissed off that she has to deal with you and Vi's bullshit, but she is also turned on. That makes matters worse. She wants to say fuck it and just let herself enjoy the show, but if she does, she'll have bigger problems to worry about.

Since you, Vi, and Sevika have established the sexual dynamic of your relationship, Sevika has had a reasonable amount of control over you and Vi. She has dished out her fair share of consequences when either of you acted up, and eventually, there was a clear dynamic. You've always been Sevika's angel: listening to everything she says, laying down and taking it like a good girl, not complaining when you don't get fucked or when Sevika is in the mood to tease.

Vi has always been on the brattier side. She likes to complain. She enjoys testing how much is too much, but even this situation is shocking to Sevika. She'll have to spend hours putting the two of you back into place when she comes home instead of fucking you and falling asleep with you in her arms and Vi on her side. But maybe that is exactly what the both of you need.

"Go right ahead and fuck her, Vi." Sevika says, finally causing a stop in Vi's movements. You whine in protest, but neither Sevika or Vi pay any mind to it.

"Seriously? You're okay with it?"

Sevika shrugs, adjusting on the bed. "Just know that there will be consequences. I'm too tired to threaten you now, Vi."

That should scare Vi. She knows that Sevika is tired, and that is where the sudden leniency comes from. If anything, Vi should take that as a sign to just call it a night.

Instead, she chooses wrong.

"That feel good, baby?" Vi coos, two fingers pumping in your wetness. There's a strap-on adjusted around her hips that wasn't there earlier, and Sevika is mostly silent as she takes in the view. You let out a whorish sound, and Vi laughs down at you. "Yeah, I know. It's exactly what your needy little cunt needs."

"No more teasing, please." You try to clutch Vis' wrist and pull her hand away from your dripping cunt, but her playfully smacks your hand away. "Just fuck me!" You whine.

"Jesus christ," comes an exasperated sigh from Sevika. Watching the scene in front of her, she pretends like it doesn't make her just as wet as your leaking pussy. She has to keep some level of control.

"Are you hearing this, Sevika?" Vi refers to the embarrassingly loud squelching noise coming from between your legs. Vi's fingers don't let up, though. She likes listening to the wetness and feeling your clit twitch underneath her thumb.

"I think the neighbors can hear it."

You moan at the sound of Sevika's voice. It sends a lightning bolt to Sevika's poor cunt, but she won't give you the benefit of the doubt of masturbating to the scene in front of her. No, she'll wait until after the call to get herself off in the hotel shower..

"You heard her, Vi. Fuck her." Sevika orders. Vi rolls her eyes, but relents in her teasing torture.

Vi's fingers slide out of you, and she pulls your now naked body down onto the bed to lay on your back. The mushroom head of Vi's (Sevika's) strap teases your glistening folds and you try your best to move your hips up enough to slip it inside of you, but one of Vi's hands pins you down on the bed.

"Beg Sevika." Vi demands, grinning above you.

Your face turns towards the laptop on the edge of the bed, and you can't help but moan when you feel the silicone tap your swollen clit.

"Please, Sevika. Please tell Vi to put it in me." You beg.

"Will you be a good girl for her?" Sevika asks you, and it takes everything in her not to rush out of the hotel and into her car to fuck you herself.

"Yes! Fuck, I promise, Sevika. I'll be a good girl for you, too."

I'll be a good girl for you, too.

The sentence echoes in her head. You don't see this as only a you and Vi thing. The thought of you wanting to please Sevika too has her hot and weak.

"Fuck my good girl, Vi."

The toy slides in you with ease, no lube necessary. Vi groans above you as she pushes her hips forward, slowly sinking further into your pussy. She feels like a starved woman after not fucking a girl for so long. Sevika takes great care of her needs, but she can't deny that this situation has been a fantasy for her for a long time.

"Fuck, you take this cock so well. Your pussy needed me. Needed to be fucked like a whore." Vi grits through her teeth, beginning to fuck you at a steady pace. Her hips snap forward and pull back, only to slam back into your greedy hole.

You only answer her in a series of broken moans. Sevika watches the way your tits jiggle with each thrust, and she imagines her own hands groping them or her tongue swirling over your nipples while Vi fucks you.

"Give her tits a small smack. She likes that."

Before you can process the instruction, Vi's hand lands a slap on one of your tits. You gasp, peeking down at the now reddened skin. She doesn't do it again until Sevika encourages. "There you go. Do it again, the slut likes it when you give her some pain."

Vi alternates between your tits, shooting delicious bolts of paint throughout your breasts as she fucks you. Her thrusts grow more erratic and deep. Her hips meet the back of your thighs each time they move forward, and you can feel the curve of the toy brush against your g-spot while the tip kisses your cervix. This is what you were neglected of.

"She looks like she's about to cum, Vi. Give it to her nice and deep. She likes it that way, that's how I always get her to cum hard." Sevika says, and Vi fixes up her pace, nearly slamming into you each thrust until your bodies become flush when they meet.

"Vi!! Oh my fucking god-" you moan, your orgasm washing over you. Vi fucks you through it, and Sevika stays quiet as she admires the show. You writhe underneath Vi, pawing at her back and mindlessly begging for more cunt-numbing treatment. She gives it to you until the overstimulation kicks in and you beg otherwise.

Vi, now a breathless, crazy-haired mess, collapses onto you. She buries her face into your warm neck and hugs you tight, particularly clingy after sex. You feel calmed down (and satiated) now that you just feel the sweet Vi that you know and love. Her chest presses against you, but the intimacy that comes from it is more soft and gentle than anything sexual.

"You okay?" Sevika asks the both of you. Vi gives a weak thumbs-up, and you nod. When Sevika is assured that both of you are okay, she lets out a slightly scary laugh. At least, you think it's a laugh.

"Both of you are so fucked when I come home."

taglist: @waitaminuteashh, @witzs, @bewareofmyglock, @ruelezz

[fangdokja]

🔞Every orgasm comes with a zero at the end of your bank account.

♡ Yandere! DILF's x Fem. Reader. Sugar Daddy, Old Money, Professor, Sponsor

♡ Headcanons. Midas Eyes - Part 3

♡ Word Count. 3,057

♡ Yandere! Sugar Daddy who should be repulsive. A man-child in his late thirties who spends obscene amounts of money on everything except dignity. A peacock draped in silk and cashmere, leather shoes that cost more than an entire human life, a watch that gleams like the price of someone's soul. Gaudy, loud, excessive. He reeks of expensive cologne and desperation, of old money envy and cocaine dreams. And yet, here you are, letting him fuck you raw in the penthouse suite of a hotel that costs a year's salary just to breathe in.

You're so fucking good at this.

♡ Yandere! Sugar Daddy groans, breath hot against your neck, hands bruising your hips as he fucks you into the mattress like he’s trying to hammer his name into your body. He has the stamina of a man who has nothing better to do than chase pleasure and the money to afford every enhancement available. You don’t know if it's the genetics, the hormone injections, or sheer willpower that makes him last so long, but it's obscene, and it works.

“Fuck, you’re—” he pants, a laugh caught between his teeth. “You’re just so good for me, princess.”

You moan because it gets you more things. Louder, a little breathy, making sure your body clenches just right around him. He groans like you’ve fed him a shot of pure heroin and throws another ten thousand into your mental bank account. You let yourself go slack, let him manhandle you however he wants, plaything that you are. He likes to think he’s in charge. He isn’t.

Not when he’s gripping your thighs so tight he might leave fingerprints on your bones. Not when his voice is breaking, so desperate, so fucking eager, like he’s about to worship at the altar of your cunt.

“Gonna fill you up,” he mutters. “Gonna stuff you so full, baby, fuck, just take it, take it all, yeah?”

You bite your lip, nodding prettily, and he loses it. Thrusts go sloppy, frantic, all that practiced charm falling apart as he groans against your shoulder, spilling deep inside like he thinks he can buy you with his cum.

And maybe he can.

♡ Yandere! Sugar Daddy flops next to you, panting, still hard. Of course he is. He always is.

“Again?” He grins, running a hand through his sweat-slicked hair.

You stretch, arching your back just enough to make his breath hitch. Then you turn, lazily trailing a finger down his stomach, watching his abs tense beneath your touch.

“A hundred grand,” you murmur.

He stares. Then he laughs. Loud, delighted, and just drunk enough to think this is the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to him.

“You’re a menace,” he says, grabbing your wrist and rolling you onto your back. His cock presses against your thigh, hard and needy. “Fine. But I get to make you cry for it this time.”

You smile, letting your eyes flash with that hypnotic galaxy hue. His pupils blow wide, breath hitching, completely enthralled. He’s already under your control, but you let him think he still has some.

“Go ahead, Daddy,” you purr. “Make me earn it.”

———

♡ Yandere! Old Money who was born into wealth so vast, it would take you several lifetimes to count the zeros in his family’s offshore accounts. Who never had to work a day in his life but did so anyway��because ruling over empires is simply what men like him do. Who was bred for supremacy, sculpted for dominance, and taught that anything can be bought.

♡ Yandere! Old Money who trained you, shaped you, and refined you like a diamond under pressure. Who took a filthy, starving guttersnipe and made her into a masterpiece. Who remembers the first time he saw you—some nameless thing, all hunger and teeth, tearing through a gilded party with the eyes of a wolf in a silk dress. Who saw potential in you, who sharpened your mind, your body, your soul. Who honed you into a weapon, only to find that the blade had a mind of its own.

♡ Yandere! Old Money who both despises and adores what you’ve become. A whore with no loyalty, a predator without a master. Who made you into something untouchable, yet still seethes with jealousy every time another man gets too close. Who is tormented by the fact that the very skills he bestowed upon you are now being used to elude him. Who doesn’t care how much you cost—because at the end of the day, you are his investment. His creation. His.

You never really understood love. Never cared to. Love was an abstract thing, messy and useless, the sentimental currency of the weak. Money, on the other hand—that, you understood. The raw power of it, the absolute control. You could make anyone do anything for enough money. But there was always one exception. Him.

It had started as a game. A little cat-and-mouse. A battle of wills between the old master and his disobedient little protégé. But now? Now it was something far worse.

Now you were in his bed.

Now his breath was against your ear, his hands moving over your body like they had every right to be there. As if they had never left.

“You come back to me like a bad habit,” he murmured, voice rich and deep, laced with amusement and something darker. His fingers traced down your spine, sending an involuntary shiver through you. “But I suppose I should be flattered. Even the most expensive sluts still come home to their first owner.”

You should have left. You should have fought. But you didn’t.

Because you knew, deep down, that this was always how it would end.

His grip was firm as he pulled you onto his lap, your silk robe slipping from your shoulders. The candlelight glowed against his sharp features, those cold, aristocratic eyes drinking you in like fine wine.

“How much?” he asked, deceptively soft. “How much do I have to pay to remind you of your place?”

You smirked, reaching up to run a finger down his cheek. “All of it.”

The answer made something wicked flash in his gaze.

“Greedy girl.” His hand closed around your throat, not enough to choke, just enough to remind you that you were nothing in his hands. “You think you can sell yourself to the highest bidder and I won’t notice? That I won’t hunt down every single man who has ever touched you and make them disappear?”

“You trained me for this,” you reminded him, tilting your head, eyes gleaming in the dim light. “Don’t act surprised when I outgrew you.”

♡ Yandere! Old Money chuckled, dark and amused. “Outgrew me?” His grip tightened, forcing your legs apart as he shifted, the silk sheets whispering beneath you. “Oh, darling.” His free hand slid up your thigh, tracing the inside like he was claiming territory. “You haven’t outgrown anything.”

His mouth found yours in a searing kiss, all dominance and possession, teeth and tongue warring for control. You gasped into it, back arching as his hand found its way between your legs, teasing, taunting. He was cruel, methodical, drawing out every sound he wanted from you with the skill of a man who had never been denied anything in his life.

“You act so untouchable,” he murmured against your lips, his fingers sinking into you with devastating precision. “So untouchable, yet look at you now.”

You bit your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a sound. But he wasn’t done yet.

♡ Yandere! Old Money pulled back, surveying you like an artist admiring his own work, his own creation. Then, with an almost lazy arrogance, he unbuckled his belt.

You watched, entranced, as he freed himself—thick, hard, proud, the very embodiment of dominance. Your mouth went dry, your body betraying you as he pressed the tip against your entrance, teasing, just barely there.

“Say it,” he commanded.

You refused.

His hand fisted in your hair, yanking your head back as he thrust in all at once, bottoming out so deep you nearly sobbed.

“Say it.” His voice was low, a whisper of silk and steel.

You gasped, trembling, but held his gaze, even as he started moving. Slow at first, deep, dragging, making you feel every inch of him. Then faster. Harder. Ruthless.

“You,” you finally choked out, your pride shattering like glass. “You own me.”

The words ignited something in him. His grip tightened, his pace brutal, pounding into you like he was branding himself into your very soul. You clawed at his back, nails digging into flesh, but he only laughed.

“That’s right,” he murmured, lips brushing your ear. “You can sell your body all you want, little girl. But your soul? Your soul belongs to me.”

And in that moment, as he drove you to the edge of oblivion, you knew he was right.

You could have all the money in the world.

But you would never escape him.

———

♡ Yandere! Professor who has the poise of a man carved out of marble—cool, composed, and entirely unreadable. A man with the patience of a saint and the mind of a devil. His words are scripture; his touch, a revelation. He speaks in measured tones, every syllable deliberate, as though calculating the exact reaction each word will elicit from you.

♡ Yandere! Professor who watches you over the rim of his glasses, calculating, assessing. He is not moved by beauty alone—intellect is what ensnares him, and you, for all your feigned simplicity, are a masterpiece of complexity. You lure men with your body, but he is the only one who sees the hunger beneath. The void you so desperately try to fill with money. He has no interest in your wealth, only in possessing you—mind, body, and soul.

♡ Yandere! Professor who has studied you longer than you've known. Who understands your patterns, your weaknesses, the exact inflection in your voice when you are lying. He does not need to tame you; he needs only to set the right trap and wait. You are a strategist, a predator, but so is he. And in this game of chess, you are already in checkmate.

♡ Yandere! Professor who fucks like a man unraveling scripture. Every touch is precise, every movement methodical, unraveling you in ways you did not think possible. He does not need to be cruel to dominate you. He simply dismantles you with patience, with precision. You, who have seduced kings and moguls, who have named your price and watched the world pay it—now trembling under a man who has not spent a single cent on you just yet.

♡ Yandere! Professor who does not believe in rushing. Who makes you beg, not with words, but with silence. With the way he simply watches you, fingers tracing the outline of your ribs, the dip of your waist. Who keeps you spread open on his desk, untouched, until your body betrays you, slick and shivering, whispering pleas you swore you’d never give him.

♡ Yandere! Professor who does not kiss you. Not at first. He will taste every inch of your skin, bite into your throat, your shoulder, but he will not give you the intimacy of lips pressed to yours. Not until you’ve earned it. And when he finally does, it is not tender. It is ownership. It is his teeth against your lower lip, his tongue carving his claim into your mouth, swallowing every noise, every breath, until you are left gasping, dizzy from the sheer control he exerts.

♡ Yandere! Professor who takes his time. Who makes you sit on his cock, unmoving, as he reads a book, as if your desperation is of no concern to him. As if your pleasure is simply a matter of patience. Who will stroke your thighs absentmindedly, turn a page, glance at you over his glasses with a look so calm it is maddening.

"You are always in such a hurry," he murmurs, fingers grazing over the sensitive flesh between your legs, deliberately avoiding where you need him most. "And yet, for all your intellect, you fail to grasp the simplest lesson: anticipation makes the reward sweeter."

♡ Yandere! Professor who teaches you the meaning of desperation. Who coaxes sounds from your throat you did not know you were capable of making. Who turns your arrogance into broken cries, into choked-out prayers, into the breathless realization that, for the first time, you are not the one in control.

♡ Yandere! Professor who marks you, but never where others can see. His teeth bruise the inside of your thighs, the curve of your hip, the swell of your breasts. His fingers dig crescents into the softness of your waist, but when you stand before your admirers, you look as flawless as ever. No one will ever know the depth of your submission. No one will ever see how he reduces you to nothing but trembling need.

♡ Yandere! Professor who makes you say his name. Properly. Not in moans, not in screams, but in reverence. In acknowledgment of the fact that, despite everything, despite your hunger for wealth and power, despite the way you have played and conquered men like pawns—he is the only one who has ever truly had you.

♡ Yandere! Professor who does not allow you to leave his bed until you are completely ruined. Until your body is boneless, your mind too fogged with pleasure to form coherent thoughts. Who cradles your face after, thumb brushing over your swollen lips, watching you with quiet satisfaction.

"Money is not the only thing worth worshiping, my dear. But don’t worry—I have all the time in the world to teach you."

———

♡ Yandere! Sponsor who never had money, not really.

Not the kind that keeps your hands clean, anyway. It was all blood and sweat and torn muscle—fought for in the filth, carved out in the trenches, scraped together with broken fingers and clenched teeth. He’s the kind of rich that still walks like he’s got nothing, the kind of powerful that still looks at people like they might turn on him at any second. And you—

You, with your dead gaze and even deader heart, the whore with a price tag bigger than a small country’s GDP—you fascinate him. Not in some romantic, poetic way. No, he isn’t built for that kind of weakness. It’s visceral. It’s in the way his jaw tightens when you move, the way his hands twitch when you speak.

You’re money. You are the thing he’s fought for all his life. And now you want him to own you?

♡ Yandere! Sponsor who doesn't fall for your tricks.

Most men are easy. One look, one shift in tone, one tilt of your head and they crumble like the worthless sacks of flesh they are. But him? He watches you like a predator sizing up a rival. You’ve met a lot of men in your line of work. Soft ones, weak ones, strong ones who thought they were stronger than you. But he’s something else.

He doesn’t give a fuck about your Midas Eyes.

That first night, when you sat in his lap and whispered the price in his ear, he just laughed. Low and dark. A sound that sent something unpleasant slithering down your spine. And then he grabbed your jaw, rough, unforgiving.

“Try that shit on me, and I’ll break your legs.”

You believed him.

♡ Yandere! Sponsor who fucks like he fights—dirty, brutal, and without mercy.

The first time he takes you, it’s not in some luxury suite with satin sheets and a view of the city skyline. It’s in the grimy backseat of a blacked-out car, somewhere between a deal gone wrong and another fight that left someone (not him) bleeding out in an alley.

You’re bent over his lap, dress hiked up, face pressed against cracked leather while he yanks your panties down with zero patience. There’s no tenderness, no soft prelude—just the sound of his belt unbuckling, the sharp bite of cold metal against your thigh as he restrains you, the hard press of his cock against your slit as he forces you open.

“You want money, right?” His voice is a rasp against your ear, breath hot, words edged with amusement and something darker. His fingers dig into your hip, keeping you in place. “So work for it.”

And then he shoves inside.

The stretch burns, delicious and cruel. You gasp, but he doesn’t slow down. Doesn’t let you adjust. Just thrusts, hard and deep, filling you up until your body molds to him.

He doesn’t fuck like a man who cares. He fucks like a man who takes.

♡ Yandere! Sponsor who likes to see you break.

You thought you were good at playing the game, but he’s better. You moan for him, whimper his name, pretend to shudder when he hits the right spot—but he sees right through you. And it pisses him off.

So he makes it worse.

He angles his thrusts just right, buries himself so deep it feels like he’s rearranging your guts. His fingers slip between your legs, rubbing tight, ruthless circles around your clit. The belt around your wrists tightens. The car rocks with the force of it.

And when you finally, finally cum—when you arch and shudder and cry out like the perfect little whore he paid for—he doesn’t stop.

He keeps fucking you. Keeps using you. Keeps pounding into your oversensitive cunt until you’re sobbing from the overstimulation, until your thighs shake and your breath comes in ragged, broken little gasps.

“Thought you wanted money, baby,” he murmurs, voice dripping with mockery. His hand grips the back of your neck, forcing your head down. “Gotta earn it.”

♡ Yandere! Sponsor who pays you just to keep you.

He never tells you to stop seeing other men. He doesn’t have to.

Because when you wake up the next morning, sore and wrecked and aching in places you didn’t know could ache, there’s a suitcase on the nightstand.

It’s full of cash.

More money than you’ve ever seen in one place. More than you could make in months.

A message, loud and clear.

You’re his now.

And there’s no fucking way you’re leaving.

Yandere! DILFs

♡ Characters Included. Yandere! Sugar Daddy, Old Money, Professor, Sponsor

Headcanons 1 : Midas Eyes (General)

Some women play hard to get. You play impossible to afford.

You're not a gold digger. You're an entrepreneur. And business is booming.

🔞Every orgasm comes with a zero at the end of your bank account.

He’s not jealous. He just needs to remind you why no one else can fuck you like he does.

🔞"You wanna act like a whore? Then be one. On your knees. Now."

If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on the MASTERLIST of Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows. Thank you.

General TAG LIST of “Whispers In The Dark”: @keisocool , @elvabeth , @elloredef , @mjsjshhd , @lem-hhn , @yuki-istired , @lilyalone , @starryperson , @yandreams-storageblog , @tiffyisme3760 , @songbirdgardensworld , @yune1337 , @mocalocha , @astreaaaaaa6 , @poopooindamouf , @yandereaficionado , @esther-kpopstan , @iris-arcadia , @hopingtocleaemedschool , @doncellaescarlata , @futuristicxie

❤︎ Fang Dokja's Books.

♡ For Reader-Inserts. I only write Male Yandere x Female (Fem.) Reader (heterosexual couple). No LGBTQ+:

♡ Book 1. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology

♡ Book 2. Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires.

♡ Book 3. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I'd Burn the World.

♡ Book 4 [you are here]. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.

♡ Book 5. Ink & Insight (I&I): From Dead Dove to Daydreams.

♡ Library MASTERPOST 1. The Librarian’s Ledger: A Map to The Library of Forbidden Texts.

♡ Notice #1. Not all stories are included in the masterpost due to Tumblr’s link limitations. However, most long-form stories can be found here. If you're searching for a specific yandere or theme, this guide will help you navigate The Library of Forbidden Texts. Proceed with caution

♡ Book 6. The Red Ledger (TRL): Stained in Lust, Written in Blood.

♡ Notice #2. This masterlist is strictly for non-con smut and serves as an exercise in refining erotic horror writing. Comments that reduce my work to mere sexual gratification, thirst, or casual simping will not be tolerated. If your response is primarily thirst-driven, keep it to yourself—repeated violations may result in blocking. Read the RULES before engaging. The tag list is reserved for followers I trust to respect my boundaries; being included is a privilege, not a right. You may request to be added, but I will decide based on trust and adherence to my guidelines. I also reserve the right to remove anyone at any time if their engagement becomes inappropriate.

[bambambwi]

High School Romance?

( choi seunghyun x reader )

──────────────────────

At school, you were always the center of attention whether you liked it or not. Your striking looks and family’s influence made sure of that. With your parents owning multiple businesses and funding school events, your name carried weight in every hallway.

Most students adored you, either out of genuine admiration or strategic flattery but not everyone saw you as the golden girl. To some, you were nothing more than a spoiled rich kid who had everything handed to her. They whispered behind your back, assuming your life was effortless, your friendships shallow, and your confidence just arrogance in disguise.

But they didn’t know you. Not really.

Academics, though? That was a different story. Despite your efforts, your grades barely clung to passing. You tried, you really did, but your reputation as a "privileged" student often overshadowed the hours you spent in study halls.

You didn’t have many friends. Sure, there were a few people you talked to here and there but none of them compared to how close you were to Choi Seunghyun. He was the one person who treated you like a person andnot the girl with money. With him, you could laugh, vent, and not worry about living up to some perfect image.

Every project, upcoming test, and school event, you always attended with him. He was always there for you, and you were too. You shared a bond that nobody else could understand, a comfort in knowing that no matter how chaotic things got, you’d have each other to lean on.

──────────────────────

Today was your birthday, but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel excited about it. With the upcoming exams looming over you, the day felt more like another thing to stress about rather than something to celebrate. You had your breakfast and left for school without saying a word to your parents. Not even a simple bye. Yes, that was how it went today. 

Once your driver dropped you off at school, you lingered outside for a few minutes, scanning the crowd until your eyes landed on seunghyun. You quickly caught up to him, your footsteps falling in sync as you walked side by side.

"How’s your day going so far, birthday girl?" he asked, a playful grin tugging at his lips.

"Hey, c'mon, the day just started!” you said, tugging your books closer to your chest.

You walked into class and stood by your desk, glancing down at it. A sigh escaped your lips. "Not again.." you muttered, picking up a tissue to wipe away the drawings scrawled across your table. Noticing your struggle, seunghyun gave you a sympathetic look and motioned for you to switch tables. He knew you’d rather avoid cleaning the scribbles off your desk today.

During class, the teacher mentioned the upcoming dance, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, a wave of unenthusiasm washing over you. Every year, you attended the dance with a boy, and each time, it ended in disaster. This time, you made a choice, not to go.

After school, you were walking down the hallway with Seunghyun, casually chatting, when a boy from another class suddenly interrupted you. With a confident smile, he asked if you would go to the dance with him but to his unfortunate luck, you politely declined.

"He was good-looking, I would’ve taken it" seunghyun said, walking at a slower pace beside you.

"These parties always end up in disaster. I’ve made up my mind not to go" you said, crossing your arms as you walked.

seunghyun let out a chuckle. "Is that so?"

You groaned at his response and, hoping to change the subject, asked, "Don't you have training today?"

He obviously noticed your attempt to change the topic, brushing it off with a smirk. "Yes, I do. Already missing me?"

You gasped at his tease, giving him a playful smirk before walking out of the school gate. 

Later at home you were sprawled out on your bed, scrolling through your phone after the intense tutoring session you had just endured. Your mind was still buzzing from the long hours of studying and as you scrolled mindlessly, a message from seunghyun popped up on your screen.

"How’s the brain after that tutoring marathon? Need a break?"

You couldn’t help but smile. Even after everything, seunghyun knew how to lighten the mood.

‘’Meet me outside at the usual spot’’

You immediately sat up, grabbing your jacket and rushing down the stairs, completely ignoring the maid calling out your name in protest. You were determined to meet him, but then, the rain hit suddenly and by the time you reached him, you were completely drenched.

"Ah, you're completely drenched. C’mon now..” he said, moving closer to you and holding his umbrella over both of you.

"Hey, I didn’t know it was going to rain!” you said, not noticing the people behind him.

"I hope you don’t mind that a few of my friends tagged along" he said, a hint of hesitation in his voice. You nodded in response, showing you weren’t bothered by it.

He dragged you into an empty room, the darkness greeting you as you stepped inside.

“seunghyun, what is—"

Before you could finish your sentence, he slipped a party hat onto your head, and his friends entered, holding a cake and singing happy birthday.

You were completely flustered, caught off guard by the unexpected gesture but, as the cake was set down and the laughter filled the room, you couldn’t help but smile. In the end, you ended up having a great time with seunghyun and his friends, the surprise turning into a memory you’d cherish.

──────────────────────

As the days passed, closing in on the dance, seunghyun watched you turn down every boy who asked you to be their date. It stirred an unfamiliar feeling inside him. He tried to brush it off, but the thought of you rejecting them, especially him, kept replaying in his mind. No, I shouldn’t be having these thoughts. She’s my friend. I’m her friend.

It was bothering him more than he expected. His friends started noticing it during training, the way his focus kept drifting, the tension in his movements. They shot him curious glances, sensing something was off, but seunghyun kept brushing it off, not ready to confront what was brewing inside him.

He would linger around his phone, staring at your texts longer than usual, even though you hadn’t messaged. He’d find himself scrolling through old conversations, rereading your words as if they held some deeper meaning he couldn't quite figure out. I really like you but is it worth risking it? Do you even like me back? I cant.

At some point, he ended up breaking down about it alone. He couldn’t help it. He liked you a lot. But he didn’t know what to do. You were the closest thing he had to a true friend, and the thought of ruining that terrified him.

Just a day before the dance, you were in the library, studying alongside him. Out of boredom, you casually asked, "Do you have anyone to go with to the dance?" The question caught him off guard, making him drop his pencil as he paused to think for a moment.

"No, I don’t.” he finally answered, his voice a little quieter than usual.

"You know, since my parents are in charge of this year’s dance, I’m obviously being forced to go.’’ you said, hesitating for a moment. "So, I was wondering..would you go with me instead?"

That one question gave him butterflies. Are you really asking him? Trying to hide his excitement, he replied nonchalantly, “Sure.’’  but deep down, he wanted to jump around in pure joy.

On the night of the dance, seunghyun walked up to your house, adjusting his tie and holding a bouquet of roses. This isn’t a real date... Why did I even bring these? he thought, ringing the doorbell and patiently waiting for someone to answer. The door swung open, and your maid, upon seeing seunghyun, called out for you.

You ran down the staircase, clutching your purse, and as soon as seunghyun saw you, his breath caught. Was it just tonight, or were you somehow even more beautiful today? His eyes were completely focused on you, unable to look away.

You said your goodbyes to the maid, rushing out the door before snapping your fingers to get seunghyun’s attention. Out of embarrassment, he kept his hands behind his back, hiding the bouquet of roses he had bought just for you.

"Aw, seunghyun, you bought me flowers? You’re adorable!"

That compliment made him want to crawl into a corner and hide, his face flushing a deep shade of red.

You took the roses from his hand, smiling as you walked toward the car. As you both got into the car, the drive to the venue was filled with an almost uncomfortable silence, but not an unpleasant one. seunghyun kept glancing at you, his fingers nervously tapping against his leg, while you couldn’t help but admire the roses in your hands.

Once you arrived, you both got out of the car. seunghyun turned to you and held out his hand, offering it with a small, reassuring smile. You hesitated for a moment, then placed your hand in his as you walked toward the entrance, his grip warm and comforting.

Inside, the entire venue was bathed in soft lights and adorned with beautiful decorations. The atmosphere felt magical, a stark contrast to the chaotic dances of previous years.

"Wow... it's completely different from last year's dance" you said, looking around in awe.

seunghyun turned to look at you, ready to respond, but was immediately struck by your beauty. The lights reflected off your features, making your eyes sparkle, and for a moment, he forgot what he was going to say. He quickly turned away, brushing it off with a nervous chuckle, hoping you hadn’t noticed his reaction.

He watched as you walked further in, disappearing into the crowd. seunghyun stood back, observing everyone around him, lost in the music and lights. His focus was interrupted when a woman, holding a drink, approached him.

"Are you seunghyun?" she asked, her eyes scanning him curiously.

Taking a moment to recognize the lady, seunghyun smiled politely. "Ah, you must be y/n’s mother. Nice to meet you" he said, giving a slight bow.

"You look charming today" she said with a smile. "Did you come alone? y/n didn’t tag along?"

"Oh no, I did come with her" he said quickly, hoping not to leave a bad impression on your mom. "She went to get drinks."

Just as he opened his mouth to speak again, a loud scream interrupted him. His heart skipped a beat as he immediately turned toward the source of the sound. His eyes widened in shock as he froze, seeing you drenched in punch. Your mom immediately rushed to the scene, scolding the group responsible for the mess as you ran outside, tears streaming down your face. Without thinking, seunghyun followed you, his heart racing as he tried to catch up.

Grabbing onto your wrist, seunghyun pulled you back, stopping you from running. He gently tugged you closer, wrapping his arms around you in a comforting hug.

"It’s okay" he whispered, his voice soft but steady, "I’ve got you."

"I want to go home" you mumbled, burying your head against his chest.

seunghyun didn’t hesitate. He gently pulled away, unbuttoning his suit jacket and wrapping it around you to keep you warm. "Let’s get you home then" he said softly, his hand resting on your shoulder as he guided you to your car.

He drove you home, walking you all the way to your front door. You stood in front of it, taking off his jacket, ready to hand it back.

"Keep it" he said quietly, his voice soft yet firm.

"But—"

Before you could protest, seunghyun gently cupped your face with one hand, his other hand brushing against yours. He leaned in, giving you a sudden, tender kiss.

"Keep it with you” he whispered after pulling away, his eyes soft and sincere.

You looked at him, confusion evident on your face as you absentmindedly rubbed your thumb over your lips, still lost in the moment.

"I've liked you a lot for some time now" he said, facing away from you, his voice almost hesitant. "And it's becoming impossible to bottle it up."

He took a deep breath, turning back to face you, his eyes soft but vulnerable. "And I totally understand if you don’t feel the same... I won’t bother you."

You stood there, frozen, trying to process what he had just said. The words echoed in your mind, and for a moment, everything around you seemed to blur.

“seunghyun..’’ you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. You stepped closer, your heart pounding in your chest. "I—"

Before you could finish, he turned to leave, a pained expression crossing his face as he took a step back.

"I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything’’ he mumbled, his voice breaking.

But you couldn’t let him walk away. Without thinking, you grabbed his wrist, stopping him in his tracks.

He turned around, eyes wide with surprise as you stood there, a small, uncertain smile playing on your lips.

"I like you too" you confessed softly, your cheeks flushing with the admission. "I’ve just been too scared to say it."

He let out a chuckle, glancing down at his shoes, clearly trying to hide his relief and the smile tugging at his lips.

"Guess it’s getting late” he said, his voice quieter now as he leaned in just a little closer to you. "I’ll text you?"

You playfully hit him softly in the chest, looking up at him with a mischievous smile. "You better do” you teased, your heart still racing from the moment.

With a final smile, you turned and began walking back toward your door, giving him a playful wave over your shoulder. "Goodnight!”

As the door closed behind you, you leaned against it for a moment, tugging onto his jacket, the warmth of it reminding you of the night. You smiled to yourself, feeling the butterflies flutter in your chest, before heading inside.

[ceruark]

still here

[yan! sunday x gn! reader] synopsis: you’ve been waiting for the day you’d finally be free from your captor. but fate has other plans, as you keep reliving the moment of his departure. words: 5,320 cw: yandere themes: mentions of previous manipulation, abduction, obsessive & possessive behavior; implied alcoholism, brief mention of murder/stabbing a/n: i’ve had this on backlog for MONTHS i’m so glad it’s finally done. i hope it’s okay and u guys like it <3

It’s true what they say about there being light at the end of a dark, seemingly endless tunnel; when the Astral Express finally departs, it does so in a blaze, washing the dock by The Reverie in a brilliant glow and momentarily blinding you. Once your vision clears up, it’s nothing but a star shooting across the vast sky, leaving behind a warmth that lifts the weight of the world off your shoulders.

At least, that’s how it felt the first time.

You’re not sure how many times you’ve seen it leave, at this point— you lost count a while ago. There were a few times you decided to not even show up at the dock, to see if it changed anything, but to your dismay, you woke up in your apartment in Golden Hour every single time, your alarm clock blaring at seven in the morning and the calendar reading that same, dreaded day.

December 3rd.

You realized after the fifth time that you were, in no uncertain terms, stuck in a time loop. The universe seems to revel in your suffering, and it finds particular hilarity in you repeatedly having to see Sunday “for the last time.” It doesn’t matter what you change— the day always resets. You’ve seen him off with the sweet disposition you learned long ago to keep up in public spaces, and you’ve cursed him out, screamed at him, and hit him.

But none of it worked. Nothing has changed.

You sigh as Siobhan swipes your empty glass off the table and replaces it with a full one. She nods at you sympathetically, eyes gleaming with pity. In the years following your abduction, you became a regular at the Dreamjolt Holstery whenever Sunday was out on business. You drank yourself to the bottom of bottles, chasing some kind of reprieve in a place where you could actually breathe. Siobhan was always sweet to you and never ratted you out. Gallagher had been good company as well, chasing out Oak Family representatives whenever they came poking around. You miss him, at times.

You take a slow sip of your wine. The finest chardonnay Penacony has to offer slips down your throat, and a pang rips through you as it does. You had shared a bottle with Sunday on your second date, back when you believed him to be a much different man than he proved to be.

You push the glass across the table and fold your arms on top of it, laying your head down and resting your cheek against it. Your eyes blearily scan the bar, drinking in the happy couples with some bitter cocktail of desolation and envy. You watch them, the way they so tenderly hold each other and exchange whispers and sweet kisses— no fronts or guards up— and you lament it all. You curse Xipe’s name and spit on Ena’s memory for the umpteenth time. Perhaps your blasphemy is so plentiful at this point that it stands out against the countless prayers reaching the sky from Penacony’s citizens, a hideous smudge on what should be a flawless record of blind admiration.

But you never were very good at falling in line.

Movement startles you out of your stupor. You lift your head and watch as a woman donning a large black hat and draped in the finest clothing money can buy settles into the booth across from you.

You clench your jaw tightly. Lady Bonajade, the soul who so graciously saved Sunday from everything he deserves.

She meets your poisonous glare with a sickly sweet smile. “Such bitterness on what should be a joyous occasion,” she drawls. She takes the abandoned wine glass into her hand and takes a sip. “What’s the matter, darling?”

You flick your gaze back to the bar where Siobhan is wiping down the counter. “It’s not really any of your business,” you respond evenly. You know better than to entertain her. She won’t give you anything useful, anyway.

She didn’t the last time you talked to her about your predicament.

She laughs. “So distrusting, though I suppose I can’t blame you for being a product of your environment.” Your heated glare fixes on her again, and she smiles, pleased with herself. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you seem sad to see him go.”

“Then it’s a good thing you know better,” you mutter.

She hums, then lifts the glass again. She takes long sips of the wine as she scrolls idly through her phone, presumably waiting for you to crack and spill your guts.

Perhaps you would keep your wits about you under any other circumstances. Jade’s presence does not come without an ulterior motive, and anything she offers you will certainly not come free. Speaking with her means risking being trapped under someone else’s thumb when you’ve only been free from Sunday’s for a few months.

But is there any real harm in confiding in her if she won’t even remember this?

“You won’t believe me,” you say, in a voice barely above a whisper.

A small smile crosses her lips as she sets her phone down. She meets your eyes, her gaze deceptively warm. “Try me.”

You stare at the polished surface of the table for a long moment, failing to find strength in the disheveled reflection that stares back at you. “I’m stuck in a time loop.”

Jade doesn’t say anything. When you look up at her, her gaze is much sharper, but there’s clear interest in it. She gestures for you to continue.

“I don’t know how many times I’ve lived this day. No matter what I do, I wake up and it’s the third of December.” You clench your hands into fists, and they tremble where they rest on the table. “I’ve watched him leave countless times now. I’ve been kind to him when he leaves, I’ve slapped him in front of the Express crew, I’ve straight up refused to show up and I’ve left Penacony altogether. I’ve—” 

You choke on your words, remembering the sound of horrified shrieks and golden eyes gleaming with horror and heartbreak. The feeling of sinking the blade into his chest and getting his blood on your hands had been as sickening as it was liberating.

“I’ve killed him,” you whisper. “But he didn’t— he’s still here. Every day. I can’t get rid of him.” A pathetic, weak laugh leaves you as you bury your face in your hands. “Even now, I can’t get rid of him.”

Silence descends over the booth. The idle chatter and occasional laughter of other patrons breaks up the tension in the air between you and Jade. The only sign that she’s even still at the table with you is the sound of her nails clinking against the side of the wine glass as she ponders your words.

“Let’s say, for discussion’s sake, that I do believe you.” You look up, meeting her cool, calculated gaze. “Do you have any theories as to why you are stuck in a time loop?”

You frown. “If we go off cliche, I’m making a wrong decision somewhere.”

Jade nods. “Agreed. Something far bigger than us in a place beyond humanity isn’t happy with you.”

You rest your cheek against your palm. “Any suggestions? I’m all out of ideas.”

She hums. “Why don’t we start by going over what you haven’t tried? You’re—”

“A clever little thing, given my previous circumstances.” Jade’s eyes go a bit wide at your sudden interruption, completing her sentence for her. Feeling inordinately exhausted, you sigh. “We’ve had this conversation before.” You lower your gaze. “When you convinced me to kill him.”

Jade goes back to tapping the glass again. You glare at her. Maybe if she’d just let Sunday face the music and be executed like the little lamb Gopher Wood intended for him to be, you wouldn’t be in this mess. Maybe you’d be back in the Dreamflux, enjoying a quaint, more secluded life.

“Killing him did not work.”

“No,” you murmur, “it didn’t.”

“Well, then the answer seems quite clear to me.” She tilts her head to the side, causing the light to glint off her earrings. “But you may not like it very much, darling.”

Desperate, you say, “Shoot.”

The corner of her lips pull up, and she presses a finger to her lips in a shushing gesture. She stares at you expectantly.

You pull your lips back in a snarl. “You’re really not going to tell me?”

She lifts the glass one last time to her grinning lips, and polishes off the wine. “Clever little thing,” she says in sing-song.

White-hot rage burns in your veins, and red flashes behind your eyes. Too used to your actions no longer having consequences, you slam your hands onto the table, startling the patrons around you. 

Jade doesn’t so much as flinch.

“This is all your fault.” You thrust a damning finger in her face, your frustration mounting and your voice cracking in odd places. “You should have let him die. He deserved to. He deserved to— if not for what he did to Penacony, for what he did to me.”

“How sad you feel that way.” Her calm response stokes the flames burning up what little remains of your heart. “His sister would have missed him dearly.”

A sardonic laugh tears at your throat. “I could care less about Robin. What has she ever done for me?” You grin, wild and anguished. “Maybe if he died, then she would feel even a fraction of the despair I felt everyday trapped in that damn labyrinth he called our home!”

“You’re very focused on his death, when it’s already proven to be something that won’t work out for you very well.”

“If you hadn’t interfered,” you whisper, very slowly, “I wouldn’t be in this mess. Maybe instead, it would be me making a grand getaway with the Astral Express.”

A smile crawls over her face, cold and cruel and serpent-like. She leans forward ever so slightly, her hat casting shadows over the eyes that pin you to your seat.

“There’s your answer.”

Your heart plummets. Her words are ice-cold water down your back, raising every hair on your body and sending your heart stuttering. Time slows down and everything stills, the idle chatter of the bar nothing more than white noise in your ears as you stare into the maw of the predator, the one that allowed yours to live.

The word falls from your lips, a single, broken syllable. “No.”

“Going with him is the only thing you haven’t tried.”

“Why—” Something tight coils in your throat, and you choke on it, a sob finding its way out of your throat. “Why would that be the answer?”

Why should he still be allowed to have you, after everything?

Jade’s smile softens out around the edges. If you didn’t know any better, you would say she looks almost sympathetic. “Perhaps he has not fallen from grace with the Harmony as much as he believes he has.”

Your nails pierce through the skin of your palm. You bite down on your lip until you taste blood.

“He is a boy favored by aeons,” Jade says mournfully. “It is a choice that has never been in your hands.”

Letting out a shuddering gasp, you shoot up from the table and bolt out of the bar. Patrons exclaim around you as you shoulder past them, hardly holding yourself together from breaking down right there in the bar. Somewhere behind you, Siobhan calls out for you, but you ignore her and break out into a frenzied sprint.

Your legs burn as you run, your instincts taking over your mind which has gone numb. They carry you through the secluded alleys of Golden Hour, over fences and past guards and through thorn bushes until you finally reach your destination.

Finding your way into the room you had once shared with Sunday isn’t difficult. The twisted hallways of Dewlight Pavilion have long since been burned into your memory, and you easily reach the bedroom before various Oak Family guards can reach you.

You lock the door behind you and push yourself off the wall just as people begin pounding loudly on the door and shouting. Navigating the room in a daze, you reach the nightstand on Sunday’s side of the bed and open the drawer.

The matches he would use to light prayer candles have gone untouched.

Matches in hand, you march into the bathroom and open the cabinet. Ripping the isopropyl alcohol off the shelf, you untwist the cap with your teeth and spit it out onto the pristine tile floor. Walking back into the room, you douse the bed in the bottle’s contents, saving just a bit to leave a trail from the bed to the bedroom window.

You set the empty bottle down on your vanity. Fingertips ghosting over the surface, you pause when they meet the familiar grooves of a small jewelry box Robin had brought you from her previous tour. You open it, staring down at it in disdain as the music box attached to it plays a lullaby from your childhood— yet another cherished memory tainted by the siblings. Your eyes roam the contents of the box, taking note of the empty space amongst your collection of rings. 

You shut the lid, lock it, then hurl it at the window.

The clamoring guards outside the room get louder at the sound of shattering glass. Wasting no time, you rush toward the window and sling both legs over the ledge, your back now facing the room.

Turning around, you strike a match, and drop it onto the edge of the alcohol trail.

In a singular second, the fire catches and spreads, until the canopy bed is engulfed in flames.

A sob escapes your throat, then a laugh, then a strange combination of both. The sounds mesh together and rack your body until you’re nothing more than a hysterical mess sitting above broken glass, watching the room that haunts your nightmares burn to the ground.

A yell sounds behind you. “There’s the culprit!”

A tranquilizer dart reserved for Penacony’s worst pierces your arm, and then you collapse to the floor.

Your eyes fly open at the sound of a cheery Clockie theme song blaring through your room. Your arm shoots out from beneath your comforter and slams the snooze button, silencing the chipper voice. Slowly, you turn to look at your left arm. 

There’s no pinprick of a dart on it, not a single blemish in sight.

You bury your face into your pillow and scream at the top of your lungs, allowing yourself to sob one last time. Then, you resign yourself to your fate.

You go through the motions as though you haven’t been out of practice for even a single day. You take a long, warm shower, warming the water to the point of scalding and lathering your skin until it’s red and raw. You bathe yourself with a lavender soap— his favorite scent on you.

Wrapped in only a towel, you walk into your room and approach your closet. Taking a deep breath, you kneel down and reach in the far back, grabbing onto a box and pulling it toward you.

You grimace as you pull the flaps open. Inside sits the few objects gifted to you by Sunday that you decided to save when The Family permitted you to enter Dewlight Pavilion one last time, following his arrest. Gingerly, your fingers ghost over the soft silk of a baby blue shirt. You take the shirt and unfold it, releasing a breath you didn’t realize you were holding when your gaze falls on the small object that had been tucked away into the fabric.

A sapphire gemstone carved into an oval sits on top of an ornate silver band, encased on both sides by smaller diamonds.

You slip your wedding ring onto your finger, choking back a sob as you do.

You set the silk shirt aside and stuff the box’s remaining contents into a duffel bag which you also pack with the belongings that are too important to leave abandoned in a place you’re likely to never return to. You put the silk shirt on, pairing it with a flowy pair of pants and shoes that compliment it well. You clasp a simple yet rather expensive necklace around your throat. Then, you sling the duffel bag over your shoulder and head toward your apartment’s front door.

You shut it behind you without looking back.

Every step taken toward The Reverie is one filled with dread. Your legs are as heavy as your heart, every fiber of your being working to weigh you down and ask you to resist just one last time. Certainly, there must be another way, another method you haven’t tried yet.

You do not pray to Xipe. You do not pray to a god that has forsaken you in the name of gifting their favorite child everything his heart desires. You do not pray to a god who only rebuked him when his actions affected the masses— if your cries of suffering were not enough for them to take action then, then your cries would certainly not be enough now.

All you can do is hold onto a thin string of hope within your heart that when the day draws to a close, you will wake up in your bedroom once more.

The automatic doors of the dock hiss open as you approach, revealing the scene you’ve lived countless times before. Miss Himeko stands with Mr. Yang by the entrance, going over final clearances with one of The Reverie’s hosts. Closer to the Express’s entrance, March and Stelle rifle through a large bag filled with souvenirs, arguing over which of their friends from other planets will receive which gift. Dan Heng is somewhere inside the train with the most wanted man in Penacony.

Swallowing your grief, you approach the crew’s eldest members with a pleasant smile plastered onto your face.

“Pardon the intrusion, but do you perhaps have space for one more?”

Miss Himeko and Mr. Yang turn around, the former appearing a bit more surprised to see you than the latter. She eyes you with concern, her lips pursing into a thin line as her gaze lands on the bag you’ve brought with you, and the brilliant ring sitting on the hand that holds the duffle bag’s strap.

“Ah, you—” Mr. Yang shoots a quick glance at the host, who has already moved on to tending to other vehicles departing the dock. He looks back at you with a smile. “You must be Sunday’s partner.”

You nod. “I spoke with Jade recently. I was hoping that I could join you on your travels, for the time being.” You reach down to fidget with your ring, feigning heartache. “I hope it’s not too much trouble— and that you understand.”

Mr. Yang looks over your shoulder and meets Miss Himeko’s gaze. The two share a silent conversation, one that makes you more nervous with each passing second.

There is nothing anyone can prove, but you know that Jade is aware your marriage wasn’t a happy one, even if she doesn’t know the specifics. You also know that she has shared plenty of conversations with Miss Himeko, ones that may have explored more intimate details of Sunday’s life under the guise of assessing if he should be allowed to roam the galaxy beyond Penacony’s prison. If she turns you away now, it would be yet another method of breaking the time loop that you wouldn’t be able to test.

“We have no problem accepting another passenger, and we have plenty of space to accommodate you, of course.” Mr. Yang places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “But I must ask you: are you sure this is what you want?”

You’re not sure of what you want. You haven’t been sure of what you want since you woke up in Dewlight Pavilion that fateful night, dazed and confused with Sunday at your side, apologizing profusely but insisting it was for the best.

What you want has never been your choice, and perhaps it never would be.

“I appreciate the concern, but I have had plenty of time to think about this. I feel that being with my husband is the best path forward for me right now.” You give Mr. Yang a strained yet reassuring smile. “And if I change my mind, I’d be happy to get off and have a fresh start somewhere far from here.”

Mr. Yang and Miss Himeko share one last look, then the latter turns to you with a warm smile.

“We’d be happy to have you join us. The more the merrier, as they say.” She places a gentle hand on your shoulder. Mr. Yang disappears into the train as Miss Himeko pulls you slightly closer to her.

“And if you need anything,” she whispers, “do not hesitate to let me know.”

You take in a shuddering breath, struggling to keep your perfect facade together as she pulls away from you.

“Stelle! March!” The two girls turn toward Miss Himeko as she approaches the entrance. “I need you two to clear out whatever we have stored in the guest room. We’re leaving with one more head than expected.”

The two peek around Miss Himeko, eyes lighting up with curiosity as they spot you.

“Oh! Are you Mr. Sun— er, our new passenger’s spouse?” March beams at you, looking a bit bashful at her near slip-up. “You’re so cute!”

“Ah, thank you.” You bow your head in a polite gesture. “I’m very grateful Mr. Yang and Miss Himeko have decided to let me join you all. I hope it’s not a problem for the rest of you.”

“Of course not!” March jests cheerily, “Who are we to stand in the path of true love?”

You smile at her and say nothing.

“Well then,” Miss Himeko says, saving you from needing to entertain March’s comment, “it’s about time we get going. We have a few minor stops we’d like to make before Amphoreus, but we also don’t want to hold up Miss Black Swan more than we already have.”

“Right!” March skips up the steps to the lobby car, followed by Stelle, then you and Miss Himeko. “I can’t wait to go back to Belobog! I bought this cute origami bird plushie that I think Bronya will love.”

In the lobby, a man who bears a striking resemblance to Stelle lays sprawled out on one of the couches, watching Dan Heng fiddle with something on a holographic display. A bunny dressed in a conductor’s uniform shouts about dinner plans, and a woman donning a dark veil watches you board the train with a knowing look that makes your skin crawl.

You turn to Miss Himeko, avoiding the mysterious lady’s stare. “Where can I put my things?”

“Ah, right this way,” she says, guiding you toward the ascending staircase at the back of the car. The next car over is a long hallway of doors. She leads you to the very end of it and produces a keycard from her jacket pocket. She taps it against the door and it slides open, revealing a simple room furnished with a bed, desk, and dresser. She turns to you and hands you the keycard.

“Here’s where you’ll be staying. Feel free to change it however you see fit.” 

“Thank you, Miss Himeko.” You dip your head again. “Your hospitality is greatly appreciated.”

“Oh, please, there’s no need to be so formal. Just Himeko is fine, and we’re happy to have you.” Her smile falters a bit as she takes a step back and gestures to a door across the hall and a few doors down from yours. “He’s staying in that room, if you wish to speak with him. If you’re not ready, though, take as much time as you need.”

“Of course.” You step into the room they’ve assigned to you, setting your duffle bag on the floor. As you hear her footsteps retreating, you allow your face to fall and your body to slump against the bed, burying your face in your hands.

You stay like that, long after the door makes a clicking sound and slides shut.

You miss dinner, settling for chewing your nails down to nubs as a source of protein instead.

Surely, he must know that you’re here. You figure Mr. Yang mentioned it to him when he disappeared after you confirmed your wishes to board the train, and certainly March would have brought it up over dinner. 

He knows of your presence, but he has yet to approach you.

It puts you on edge. What could he possibly be scheming this time? Certainly, after his sudden fall from grace, he’d be pouncing at the opportunity to regain some semblance of control over something so familiar— at least, that’s what you figured before boarding the train, the very thing that left you hesitant to entertain Jade’s suggestion. 

You pace around your room well into the night, working your legs tired from walking to and fro in such a cramped space for nearly two hours. When it proves to be a futile effort to quell your anxieties or wear you down into a sleepier state, you huff and grab the key to your room off the barren desk and shove it into your pocket.

It shouldn’t be a surprise that he’s making you come to him. He’s always made you do that when he feels you’ve done something wrong, and your refusal to stand with him at the recreation of the dream was likely an egregious misstep in his eyes.

The door to your room hisses open. You step out into the hallway, darkened now that the lights have been dimmed to the lowest setting. You drag your feet as you walk, prolonging your journey as you gather the last of your courage and try to figure out what you’ll say— whether you’ll face him with all the rage boiling beneath your skin, or with the perfectly crafted mask you’d grown so used to wearing before the events of the Charmony Festival. 

You raise your hand— curled into a fist— and let it hover in the air in front of the door. Sucking in a deep breath, you will your heart to slow in your chest, then you rap lightly against the door.

For a few seconds, nothing happens. They spill into each other, and the lack of response has you considering fleeing to your room when the sound of a latch releasing knocks you out of your stupor. The door hisses open, and golden eyes pierce into your own.

Sunday meets your eyes with all the burning intensity as the day he first told you he loves you. He blinks rapidly a few times, long lashes brushing against his cheeks as he does. His gaze slowly drags up and down your figure, taking you in, almost in disbelief. When he settles on meeting your gaze again, he murmurs your name lightly into the space between you two, the sweet call of it dousing the flames that have been burning since his arrest and leaving you so, so cold.

Your throat constricts. You’d forgotten how small he makes you feel— not because he’s cruel, but because his love for you is so tangible and pure despite everything he’s done.

“Sunday,” you whisper back, mournfully.

His gloved fingers twitch where they rest by his side, yet he does not reach for you. “Not that I’m displeased to see you, my love,” he asks, “but what are you doing here?”

The truth sounds as insane as it makes you feel, so you lie. “I wanted to check on you.”

Something softens in his gaze, and you feel your veins flood with disgust— whether it’s at the fact that he’s so desperate for your affection that he readily believes you, or because it’s so easy for him to break down the walls of hatred you’ve built up, you refuse to determine.

You grit your teeth, trying to dredge up some of your fury from earlier. “Don’t be misled,” you mutter, “I’m not here to pretend like everything’s fine.” You cross your arms over your chest, facing him again with a more guarded look. “If you’re traveling with the Express as a means to make up for what you’ve done, then—” You suck in a sharp breath. “Then someone you’ve wronged should be here to see if you’re really changing.”

You avert your gaze. The silence grows thick between you two, the seconds blending into long, agonizing minutes.

“I see,” he finally says, and you look back up at him. There’s something pinched in his gaze— something a bit pained— yet he manages to look relieved. “If that’s the case, then I’m glad it’s you.” His next words come as a shock to you, causing your eyes to go wide and rendering you speechless. “I understand I have much to make for. Not just to Penacony, but to you, particularly, my dear.”

As you fall quiet, he steps toward you and delicately takes your fingers into his grasp. He brings them up to his lips and kisses the end of each one before speaking again. “I would like to earn the right to your love again,” he mumbles against them. “If you’ll allow me.”

Within you, your hatred and fondness for Sunday wage a war with each other, fighting to gain the upper hand. You shouldn’t allow him— you should have never been forced into a position where you would even have to entertain such a notion. You’ve lived this day so many times, and all it’s done is remind you of who put you in the situation, who dragged you down from the heavens with him. Each relived day left your fury festering like an open wound, as desperate for reprieve from the loop as you’d been desperate for your freedom, at a time.

And yet, there’s another part of you that was forgotten in the midst of the chaos of the time loop, one that is hopelessly enamored with him and endlessly forgiving. You will never agree with his methods or his actions, but despite everything, you still understand his viewpoint and how it drove him to this point. The hardest part about loving Sunday is knowing that every shred of pain he may cause is inflicted with only the best intentions, each wound carved into you with a tender touch and healed through a devotion that runs so deep it leaves you dizzy.

You curl your fingertips into his hold and pull yourself toward him, crossing the threshold and stumbling into his room. You crash into him and bury your face in his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist to hold yourself there. He lets out a shuddering exhale at the contact. One of his hands settles at the small of your back, and the other comes up to cradle the back of your head and gently stroke your hair.

“You better make up for all of it,” you say, voice wet with unshed tears. “You better make it worth my while.”

He hums, and you can feel it reverberate through his chest. “Of course, dove,” he whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “Nothing but the best for you.”

The next morning, you wake to the sound of the train’s low buzzing as it shoots through the cosmos. There is no alarm clock, no barren apartment walls, no calendar pinned beside your desk. There is only the feeling of Sunday’s feathers against your skin from where his face is pressed into your neck, his arms around your waist.

You let out a soft sob, then will yourself back to sleep.

[seellove]

Could You Stay a Little Longer // drug dealer!sukuna x reader

Masterlist

Chapter 2 // (12.1k words) // Explicit - 18+

\|/ AO3 - Chapter 2 | << Chapter 1 | Chapter 3 >>

You're pursuing a master degree across the country, but are currently back in your hometown housesitting for your parents. They've told you all about their undesirable new neighbor, but when you start to get to know said neighbor, you realize he isn't all that bad. Your controlling boyfriend won't let up on you and you grapple with enjoying the company of this drug dealing neighbor boy, Sukuna. Nothing about this is going the way you planned, but is it so bad to let yourself be treated well for a change?

The cultural setting for this is technically economically depressed, rural USA where good paying jobs are hard to come by and there's not many opportunities in small towns, but it could really be anywhere that meets this criteria!

Content Tags/Warnings Throughout Work: Reader and Sukuna are mid 20s, mentions of recreational drug use and drug dealing, mentions of abusive/controlling/manipulative relationship (not Sukuna), could possibly be considered cheating depending on your interpretation (not Sukuna), angst, smut, fluff, time skip, prison time, happy ending trust!

Day 3

You decide to continue cleaning out the gardens this morning, once again trying to get ahead of the midday heat. As you head towards the road, the morning chorus of birds in the trees bring a sort of serenity to the neighborhood…until you notice Sukuna’s yard looks anything but peaceful, wrecked once again. 

It’s not surprising considering how loud things were over there last night. It didn’t keep you up per se, but you definitely could hear the loud music and cars engines revving all night long. The man definitely did not seem to want to keep a low profile that’s for sure considering the neighborhood already had it out for him. Thank god for earplugs.

What is the point of cleaning up yesterday if he just trashed everything less than 3 hours later? 

You throw your earbuds in, get on your knees, and start pulling weeds. It’s tiring and uncomfortable, but you figure if you do a little at a time each day you’ll have something good to show for it by the time you leave. Attempting to try and decipher the ways of the immature, cute, bad boy across the street wasn’t something even your advanced schooling could help with.  

After some time, a shadow appears where you are working, blocking the sun temporarily.

“You’re up early tomato girl,” Sukuna’s playful voice sounds from behind you. 

“I could say the same thing. Seemed like you had a late night. Don’t you have stuff to do during the day?” you chide at him, taking out your earbuds and setting your weed pile to the side so you can turn around. 

He’s in shorts and a t-shirt with a backwards hat smothering his wild hair, red eyes hidden by a pair of shades. He’s smirking down at you and you notice he’s holding a pair of hedge clippers.

“Sweets, I’m a dealer with a suspended license, what do you expect me to be doing all day?” 

“I don’t know, counting pills. Counting money? How should I know?” you retort. 

“You’re cute for thinking that’s what I’d do all day,” he teases. 

You just roll your eyes in response, you honestly don’t care to know, it’s not something you want to know anything about at this point.

“I’m going to clean up some of these shrubs,” he gestures to some plants on the edges of the garden.

“Oh that’s not necessary-“

“I know it’s not, but I’m a grown adult who can make his own decisions. Also tired of these people who won’t get the fuck out my house, I’d rather be around someone I actually enjoy.” 

“Why do you have people over if you want them to leave early? Drugs and booze aren’t exactly conducive to people getting up and at ‘em in the morning,” you tease him as he starts working on a bush a few feet away.

“They’re my childhood friends, but they’re some degenerates who don’t do shit all day. They always promise they’ll be out by 8, but it never happens,” he sighs as he prunes his way around the shrubbery.

“Hey Kuna what’re you doing out here?” you hear a girl’s voice from the road. You look up and see two girls walking your way. They look pretty hungover, must have been some of the company from last night.

“I’m helping my neighbor with some yard work, are you all going to be leaving soon?” 

“Yeah, we were just about to go. Just wanted to see if we could buy something before we leave,” the other girl smiles at him. 

“Go ask Toji or one of the other guys, I’m busy,” he responds bluntly, not looking up from what he’s doing. 

They seem to take the hint and walk away, leaving you both alone again.

“Do you let girls sleep with you in lieu of paying?” you ask.

He bursts out laughing. 

“Fuck no, I’m actually pretty picky about who I’ll sleep with. Just never know their true intentions, especially because I’m weak for some good pillow talk. Haven’t been with anyone in a while now that I think of it since I got in trouble with the law again, maybe I’m paranoid of undercover shit or something.”  

You just nod in agreement, a surprisingly astute and mature response coming from him. It makes sense, but you’d expected him to be more free spirited and reckless. His pillow talk comment makes you internally laugh, you can totally see that being a thing, he’s so emotional and expressive after all. 

As you both continue working, your mind wanders back to your conversations with Cam last night. He’d ripped into you about Sukuna answering the phone while on your walk. 

He’d never let you have guy friends, so being around a random guy yesterday definitely set him off worse than usual. You did feel a little guilty about hanging around Sukuna, but it felt good at the same time, you enjoyed his company. With Cam not here, you had more freedom than you’ve had in ages, so you were keen to take advantage of it for a few days.

“Lemonade break?” you nudge his side as the heat starts to distract you.

“Yeah, fuckin’ brutal out here,” he runs his fingers through his hair.

You go retrieve some glasses and find Sukuna leaned back against the trunk of an old oak tree. You sit next to him, passing him an ice cold glass.

You both sit in silence, letting the cold liquid quench your dry throats, enjoying the soft breeze in your shady refuge. Sukuna’s hat is off, tufts of his pink hair dancing in the wind districting your gaze. 

“Do you think you’ll come back here after your grad school?” Sukuna asks once you’ve both cooled off.

“I haven’t decided yet. I love the area where my school is, but I do miss my family and friends here. Just harder to find a job ya know?” 

It was one of the reasons you’d moved away, to have a better opportunity at research opportunities and post graduate options for your chosen degree. 

“That’s valid,” he responds, stretching his long legs out on the grass in front of him. “Do you still have a lot of friends here?”

“I do, but a bunch of them got married pretty quick and already have a kid or two. Only a few of us are still childless,” you laugh. 

“Figures, seems to be the way things go around here. I remember my mom saying something about how no good girls will be left if I wait to settle down, but it seems like there’s still some goods around,” he turns his head to look at you, sunglasses pushed up on his head now.

“I like to think I’m pretty decent,” you laugh, averting your gaze as you feel your cheeks heat up.

“Better than the crew who I hang around,” he snorts.

“I mean that’s not saying much,” you joke with him.

“Oh please, you know what I meant,” he huffs.

“I could set you up with a decent single friend or two,” you nudge his side.

“Two? Shit, that’s just asking for trouble,” he picks at the grass between his legs, tossing it at you absentmindedly.

“They’re nurses, they’d take good care of you.”

“I’m sure they would. Maybe one day, tomato girl,” he laughs. 

“A gift for you,” he leans your way, presenting what looks like grass to you.

Except it’s not grass, it’s a four leaf clover. Some good luck in his future perhaps?

“You don’t wanna keep your luck?” you giggle, laying it in your palm so both of you can get a better look. 

“Eh, you might need it more, I’m already pretty lucky I live the life I do and haven’t gotten in more trouble.”

“I’ll cherish it forever,” you smile at him, leaning against his arm, the bark of the tree starting to hurt your back. 

You both watch as people slowly trickle out of Sukuna’s house, the line of cars parked on the side of the road disappearing after another hour. 

“You want some more vegetables?” you ask him.

“For meeeeee?” he gasps, giving you a fake surprised look.

“Yes you goof,” you laugh. 

“What’s your offer?”

“There’s some radishes and jalapeños over here,” you get up and point to some plants you had been weeding around.

“Well sure if you’re offering,” he smiles, navigating his way carefully through the garden and cutting a few of them off. 

“I’ve got some stuff to do, but would you wanna come eat dinner at my place tonight? I was gonna whip up some stuff with the tomatoes and I can go ahead and make some stuff with these too…you know as a thank you for sharing,” he says as a faint blush appears on his cheeks, spreading to his ears.

“Oh? Sure, why not. Want me to bring anything?” you respond, feeling a little flutter in your chest.

“Bring your favorite wine,” he grins at you. “I’m gonna start cooking at 5, feel free to come by anytime after then. Sounds good?”

“Um, yeah, that sounds great. Thank you,” you suddenly feel all flustered. It’s just dinner with your temporary neighbor.

In his house…but he can’t drive…so this makes sense right? 

What if Cam finds out? 

There’s no way.

You deserve this though. How many times has the man cheated on you and gaslit you into oblivion until you truly believed you were the reason for his infidelity and abusive actions, like no matter what you did it was never good enough?

You deserve to have one nice night with someone who is kind to you. Eating dinner with a friend is not wrong. Hell it’s not like you ever get to go out with your friends back home because of his controlling nature.

“If it’ll put you in a bind with…him, you don’t have to,” Sukuna’s voice jerks you from your thoughts as if sensing your inner turmoil.

“Huh? No, it’s fine. He cheats all the fucking time, god forbid I have dinner with a friend,” you retort, unsure if you are responding to him or trying convincing yourself. Probably both. 

Sukuna grimaces but quickly replaces it with his trademark smirk. 

“Great, I’ll see you later then,” he turns and walks back to his house. 

As you watch him walk away, your inner self is doing cartwheels in excitement. It’s almost like…

You like him. Crushing on the neighborhood delinquent with the mysterious red eyes and the fine ass tattoos adorning that shredded body. The kind hearted boy who’s captivated you in three short days. 

Nah, you can’t be. Like you said, it’s been three days, you hardly know him…right?

***

You were staring at yourself in the mirror, analyzing the third outfit you’ve tried on. It’s not like you brought that many clothes, but you want to look put together and like you put a little effort in!

You can’t even remember the last time you were giddy and excited for something, and that makes you sad, realizing just how shitty your relationship situation is back home, slowly bleeding the life out of you. 

You grab the wine bottle of choice, some popsicles for dessert, and lock up the house, leaving the light on in anticipation of coming back after dark. The walk across the street and up to Sukuna’s porch is over quickly, noticing for once his car seems to be the only one in the driveway. 

You knock on the door and wait, suddenly wondering what it’s going to look like on the inside. You figure it’ll either look like a frat house bachelor pad, or sleek and clean with nice furniture that could only be afforded with drug money.

You’ll soon find out as you hear heavy footsteps on the other side before the door opens up to Sukuna in an apron overtop of a t-shirt and shorts. It catches you off guard seeing him domestic like this, but it quickly fades as his excited smile greets you.

“So glad you came tomato girl, right this way,” he says, holding the door open for you. 

“Nice apron,” you tease as you place the bottle on the counter. The inside is leaning more towards sleek and sophisticated. Black kitchen table, black chairs, black living room furniture, black cabinets, some type of stone countertops, and so on. It’s not what you expected, but you can’t deny he has good taste.

“Tch, thanks. These tomatoes are really juicy and I was worried about getting them all over me,” he laughs, moving to the other side of the kitchen island to fiddle with some pots on the stove.

“So what’s for dinner chef?” you sit at one of his bar top stools across from him, scanning the area around you. Everything seems very neat and organized, you’d never suspect someone with a record lived here if you walked in without knowing him.

“My appetizer, if you will, is chips and pico de gallo. Made the chips myself, aaaaaaand, the pico features your jalapenos and tomatoes of course,” he pulls a bowl out of the stainless steel fridge and places it in front of you. Chips were already out on the counter.

“Wow you make your own chips?” 

“Damn straight, no bagged chips here,” he points his wooden spoon at you playfully. Something about this big strong man wielding a wooden spoon around in this animated way makes you giggle in amusement. Never a dull moment with him.

You take one, dip, and eat, the satisfying crunch loud in your ears. It’s so good, better than any other chip or salsa you’ve had lately.

“Soooo verdict?” Sukuna rests his elbows on the counter and stares at you with wide eyes, eagerly awaiting your response. His backwards baseball hat hides some of his unruly pink locks, giving him an almost frat boy aesthetic.

“Delicious! I’m impressed,” you say, emphasizing the warmth in your words, reaching for more.

“Sweet,” he mutters with a grin. “I know it doesn’t really go with the chips and pico, but I’ve got some homemade tomato sauce going that we’ll eat with meatballs and pasta. The theme of tonight's menu is tomatoes after all, regardless of the meal classification, so I think it fits,” his eyes twinkle with excitement. He seems proud of himself and it’s oddly heartwarming. 

Your mouth is watering because it all sounds and smells so good. This is the last thing you expected him to be doing, whipping up meals from scratch in the kitchen.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” 

“Actually, yes. First pour us two glasses of your wine, and second, come stir this sauce for me, I need to cut this pasta up.”

“Homemade pasta too?” you gasp.

“Duh, you think I’d feed you inferior boxed pasta?” he smirks as he fishes a wine opener out of a drawer, uncorking the bottle and procuring two glasses. 

“I mean most of the time, men aren’t serving me anything except disappointment, so even boxed would be impressive,” you laugh. 

“Well you’re in for a treat then sweets,” he winks and passes you his spoon. He opts to pour out the wine and sets a glass next to where you are standing. 

Sukuna busies himself with pasta, meatballs, and even some garlic bread while you stir his sauce.

“That’s probably fine now,” he eventually reaches over you to lower the heat, his chest lightly pressing against your shoulder. He’s definitely got some height on you so you don’t even need to duck out of his way.

“Come with me,” he grabs your wrist and drags you towards the back door. Out on his deck you realize there is an abundance of fresh herbs in clay pots.

“You get the basil, I’ll get the parsley,” he instructs, showing you how to properly remove the leaves. 

All of this just keeps surprising you, it makes the butterflies form in your chest again. At this point they might as well just take up refuge there. 

How can you be falling for someone with a record? A drug dealer for god sake! It seems like it has bad idea written all over it. Plus he’s said himself, he doesn’t do long term stuff. 

“Hey!” Sukuna’s voice snaps you back to reality, “I asked if you need any help?”

“N-no, I’m good, I think I got enough,” you stutter, almost convinced he can hear your thoughts. 

“Yep looks good to me,” he answers after coming over to inspect your haul. 

Once back inside, it’s only a little while longer before Sukuna starts plating everything. You are about a glass and a half deep into the wine so you’ve settled at the kitchen table, eagerly awaiting the food.

“Eat up!” Sukuna exclaims as he sets the plates down, joining you at the table.

“Sukuna this looks amazing,” you smile, “thank you again, this was so nice of you.”

“But of course, anything for my neighbor,” he responds. 

“Cheers,” he holds out his wine glass which you gladly clink against with yours. Just as he’s about to take a bite, his phone rings. His playful demeanor instantly turns to one of annoyance.

“One moment,” he gets up and answers.

“What?” he barks into the phone. 

“You absolutely will not come over here, in fact, you can tell everyone that if anyone comes over here tonight I will put a fucking bullet in their leg, got it?” he says in a commanding tone which makes you jump. 

He tosses his phone on the counter and rejoins you.

“Sorry about that,” he sits down like it’s business as usual.

“You can just flip that side of you off and on at will huh?” 

“I have to. Makes it less likely that people will fuck with me,” he explains as he digs in, “it’s just a facade though, like I’d never talk to you that way…unless you wanted me to,” he says with a sly grin.

You practically choke on your food at the bold comment. Up until this point he hasn’t taken his flirty, carefree attitude in that direction, but it churns up some type of feeling deep inside of you that you haven’t felt in a long time.

“Easy there,” you laugh, kicking him lightly under the table. 

He just shrugs with amusement and takes a long sip of his wine. 

“So when people come over here, are they picking up or what?” you decide to probe at him, the wine making you braver.

“Sometimes. I don’t keep much product here. Mainly people come by to drop off cash or get assignments. I’ve got people who report to me who handle most everything lower level like deliveries and sales. I deal with more high level stuff: managing the finances, figuring out markups and pricing, and coordinating with the wholesalers. I am the boss after all,” he grins, twirling some pasta on his fork. 

“So what’s the plan when it inevitably all blows up?”

“Excuse me? Do what now?” he chuckles while hitting you with a questioning side eye.

“You heard me, I feel like this can only be successful for so long right?” you reiterate.

“Oh ye of little faith,” he clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “Well, I guess that would mean I’m either dead, or locked up.” 

“That’s pretty extreme. So there’s no backup plan?” 

“My parents’ inheritance I guess. I’d go back to college with it and get a degree in something I suppose,” he muses.

“What made you drop out?” 

“Honestly my grades were shit. I was in a frat and wasting my parents money partying and fucking off, so they stopped paying and I moved back here. Got involved with my old high school buddy, Toji, with this shit and well here I am, the fucking king.” 

“Interesting. I was just curious,” you set your utensils down, plate completely clean.

“How about you though,” his crimson eyes bore into yours intensely, piercing you so sharply it catches you off guard. 

“What happens when your situation blows up?” he continues.

“What are you referring to?” 

“Your loser boyfriend. The odds aren’t good for women in abusive relationships.”

“It’s not technically abu-“

“Ima stop you right there and call bullshit on that tomato girl. I’m speaking the truth and we both know it. So again, what happens when your situation goes south.”

Your mouth is completely dry, no one has ever spoken about it in this way. 

“I guess similar to you, I’m either dead or in jail,” you retort, causing him to smile with amusement.

“Clever. I like that. Hopefully it’s neither, or at least if you’re in jail it’s cuz he’s dead,” his eyes flick back up to yours. You stare into his gaze, lips partially open as you process everything.

“That sounds so morbid but it may or not be a possibility I’ve mulled over in my mind,” you add.

“Well if you need an accomplice, you have my number,” he laughs, taking your plate and his and dropping them in the sink before coming back to join you.

“What do you say, do you think I should leave this all behind? Start over?” he says in a low tone, swirling the wine around in the glass and watching the liquid slowly settle out. 

“It’s not my place to say Sukuna.”

“Would you like me more if I did?” 

You cock your head at him with intrigue, unsure of what he’s getting at.

“I’d like you just the same. I like you for you right now. That’s why I’m in your house.”

He sighs, tapping his fingers on the table, staring up and away from you both.

“Let’s say, hypothetically, I wanted to settle down with some lucky lady. You think I’d have to stop to have a chance at that?”

You pause, hanging onto his words before answering. Is the wine making him say this stuff? You both hadn’t drank that much…

“I’d say it depends on the lady. If I was going to get with someone like you, yes, I’d probably want you to leave that life,” you give him a playful smile, “but I’m sure there are women out there who’d be content to support you in this life and not expect you to change.”

“Hmm, maybe.”

“What about me though, should I leave the man who’s holding me back?” you challenge him.

“Tch, is that even a question?” he rolls his eyes, reaching to rest his hand on yours. Your heart is pounding, thrumming in your ears, making you almost shiver in anticipation. 

“It is, I asked you after all.”

“Then yes, you should.”

“Would you like me more if I did?”

God is it the wine making you say this stuff? 

Sukuna arches an eyebrow in a wordless response, his gaze slowly moving to meet yours before shifting down to your lips and darting back up again.

“Whether you’re with him or not has no bearing on me doing this right now.”

In the moment it takes for your ears to convey his words to your brain, he kisses you. Your eyes widen in surprise, it must have happened in seconds. He’s standing up now, one hand on the table, the other gripping your chin and tipping it up while his soft lips envelop yours. 

The butterflies you’ve become painfully aware of the last few days ricochet around your insides like fireworks in the night sky as you lean in and kiss him back. It doesn’t stop there though, he’s pulling your chair out, cradling you against his chest while you cling to him, lips still locked as he moves towards his living room. 

He falls back into the couch, positioning you so you are straddling him. 

“Sukuna I-“

“Shhh, don’t talk, not right now,” his voice deepens, observing you through lidded eyes. 

And then his large, strong hands are in your hair, gripping your cheek and the back of your head as he pulls you into another kiss.

His lips crash against yours. It’s consuming, claiming, completely losing yourself in him as you force your tongue into his mouth. Sukuna groans against you, meeting you halfway, his soft tongue dominating yours as he deepens the kiss. Your noses brush against each other clumsily as you familiarize yourselves with the other’s movements. 

You feel almost out of practice, you can’t recall the last time Cam kissed you like this. His style was moreso fuck with the most minimal amount of foreplay, and even that was a generous word to describe it. If you do suck at this, Sukuna appears to have no qualms by the way his arms are wrapping around your back, pulling you against him, and devouring the shared air between you.

Your hands find his hair, dragging his hat off so you can thread your fingers through his soft strands. The scent of his shampoo wafts into your nose as you ravenously kiss him back. You shift yourself, groaning as you feel his hard bulge pressing against your groin, catching your clit even through the extra layers. 

“Fuuuck,” he moans into your mouth, starting to nip at your lower lip as his hands wander down to your ass, rolling his hips up to meet yours.

You haven’t felt this alive in literal years, so drunk off the way he nibbles and sucks at your neck while you grind yourself against him. You can feel yourself soaking through your panties, hoping he can’t feel it through his shorts. 

“Lemme go get a condom,” Sukuna whispers, his breath hot on your neck, eliciting a sharp whine from you as the image of what’s to come infiltrates your mind.

Wait, a condom? For sex? He wants to fuck you, god know you wanna fuck him too right now.

But you have a boyfriend, what are you even doing? Acting like a whore? Cam will be furious, you’ll be in trouble-

You start to panic, pushing yourself back from him abruptly.

“What are you doing? You know I have a boyfriend!” your voice cracks as he quickly removes his hands from you, leaning back into the couch to give you the space you were wanting.

“That piece of shit doesn’t deserve that honor,” Sukuna growls in response, his eyes flaring up in irritation.

“You’re taking advantage of me while I’m away from him, you’ve been putting these bad thoughts about him in my head this whole time. You’re no better than him. A criminal, a bad person,” you start to ramble on, freaking out at the thought of the fallout. If he found out.

Sukuna’s eyes flash with pain, your hurtful words piercing through his heart. 

“Right…,” he finally utters, averting your gaze and biting his bottom lip in discomfort. 

“I’m leaving before you turn me into more of a slut than I already am,” you push off of him, leaving him alone on the couch.

“You’re not being a slut! You’re allowed to be treated with fucking respect by someone,” Sukuna retorts, standing up as he follows you to the front door. 

You whip your head around to face him, hand on the doorknob.

“I’m a cheater, no better than him.”

“Is it really cheating when the person who’s supposed to love and respect you is constantly unfaithful and could even be doing so right now? You say it yourself, you don’t even know if you’re exclusive or not. Please, let me show you what a decent man can do, how you should be treated,” his eyes are so full of raw emotion, his hand pushing on the door next to you, partially caging you against it, but still allowing the option to leave. 

You look away from him, tears in your eyes. Everything is so confusing right now, the desperation on his face, the longing for him in your heart, the fear of Cam. It’s all just too much and you need to get away from all of it right now.

You pull the door open, and Sukuna doesn’t stop you.

“Good night Sukuna,” you stutter as you open the screen door, hearing it slam behind you. You move quickly to your parents house, never looking back towards Sukuna, unaware of the way he watches you leave full of hurt and confusion.

For the first time in his adult life, he was considering giving it all up. 

All of this. 

For you. 

The desire to be a better man, the man you never had, the man you deserved, was coursing through his veins. He thought you had felt the same way, what else could you have possibly meant by those questions? It felt like you’d kissed him with such passion and desire, how did this end with him staring at your back as you walked away from him?

Had he read the whole situation this badly? 

No, you had wanted this just as much as him. You break down with the realization as soon as you get inside, back sliding down against the door as you erupt into a sob on the floor. What’s wrong with you? Why couldn’t you just have an ounce of self esteem and break things off for good, let yourself be taken care of by a good man, one who’s been nothing but kind and helpful since you met him. 

You both go to sleep that night thinking of the other, of the night that could have been yours together. 

Day 4

It’s a little harder to get out of bed today. The sun was shining, not a cloud in the sky, yet here you were festering in your own gloomy thoughts. The only thing forcing you up was that the pets needed taking care of, it’s not like they did anything wrong in all of this.

The humidity is through the roof this morning, probably the worst it’s been since you got here. Normally that combined with a bluebird day means thunderstorms in the afternoon, so you decide to walk Macy in the morning to try and get ahead of it. 

You glance across the street towards Sukuna’s house. No extra cars were around and all the shades were still drawn. Based on the last few days, you’d have expected to see him at some point in the morning, but with what happened last night? No shot. That was probably the last of your interactions with him. 

As you continue your walk, you can’t help but feel guilty about everything. You’d felt scared, even terrified at the thought of hooking up with him even though you’d wanted to with every fiber of your being. The irrational fear of Cam finding out and you reaping the consequences had clouded your judgement. 

“Has he hurt you?” you recall Sukuna asking.

Yeah, he has. Your mind wanders to a dark place, recalling the most recent time he was physical with you. You’d gone out with your grad school classmates for beers one night, which in and of itself caused a blowout fight because three of them were guys. Guys with long term girlfriends and fiancés you had tried to remind him, but he wasn’t having it.

The night had ended with you and two of your male classmates being the last of your group after others had left. There was nothing remotely sketchy or inappropriate going on, just friends talking about life and plans after school. Cam however had decided to take matters into his own hands and show up unannounced, furiously locking eyes with you from across the room as the two guys sat across from you.

Things only got worse for you as he made a scene in front of everyone and practically dragged you out of the bar and into the alley, both of you yelling at each other. The fight only ended when he backhanded you across the face, accusing you of being disrespectful and using his favorite line: “and you wonder why I go looking elsewhere when you constantly act like this.” 

This. Merely existing and trying to defend yourself.

This behavior had instilled a crippling fear and anxiety of never truly knowing where he would show up. You wouldn’t put it past him to find you here. Your hometown is your one safe haven, hence why your location sharing has been off. But you can’t wipe the events of that night from your mind, no matter how hard you try.

You take a left down another road that ends with access to a creek, a place you’d loved playing growing up.

Would Sukuna even understand if you explained all this to him? It shouldn’t be his burden to bear, he probably is just looking for a fun fling, not a girl with baggage as far as the eye could see. Hell you wish you could just have a fun, no string attached night, but the devil on your shoulder can’t just let you be at peace.

You sit down in the grass and let Macy off the leash to play in the water. She loves swimming, and seeing her frolic around in the stream makes you happy for a change. Oh to be a dog just doing what you love, no romantic relationships in sight. You pull a tennis ball out of your bag and toss it into the water, watching Macy swim out to it before bringing it back. 

You repeat these motions until she’s had enough, scampering over to you and falling onto her side, panting in the heat. 

“Tired you out huh girl?” you laugh as you ruffle the damp fur on her neck. You both rest for a while longer before you begin your trek back to the house. Sukuna’s house is still devoid of activity as you head back down the driveway.

You give Macy a quick rinse off outside to get the mud and dirt off of her before letting her back in and preparing some lunch.

Turning on the TV after eating, you decide to have a wallow at home kind of afternoon given your mood. You’ll just binge something and gorge yourself on comfort snacks. 

Macy starts whining to go out after about two hours, so you get up to let her out in the yard. As you lay back down, sleepiness suddenly hits you and you drift off on the couch.

BOOM!

You are jolted awake by a loud noise, scaring the shit out of you. You look outside and notice dark grey clouds covering the sky. 

Great, the afternoon storms you’d predicted have come to fruition. The wind is gusting and rain begins to pitter patter on the roof as another roar of thunder shakes the house.

You know Macy is scared of storms, so you call out to her, trying to find her inside. After checking all her usual hiding spots, you are puzzled that she’s nowhere to be found.

Oh my god. 

You remember now, you let her out and then fell asleep!

You throw on your sneakers as quickly as you can, charging out into the yard as another round of thunder makes you cringe away from the sky.

How could you be so fucking irresponsible! 

Panicking, you run around to the back, hoping by some miracle that she’s there. You are only greeted by the wet deluge that pours down on you as the sky opens up, the fat raindrops splattering onto your bare skin almost mocking you at this point.

This is so bad.

You run up towards the street, frantically calling out to her, your voice completely drowned out by the rain, wind, and thunderclaps that have your ears ringing at this point.

After traversing one end of the street, despair starts to sink in. You are freezing, drenched from head to toe, not even knowing where your tears begin and the raindrops end as rain cascades down your face. As you come back towards the house, you see Sukuna’s out of the corner of your eye.

Maybe he’ll help you.

You literally have nothing to lose, so you bound towards his front door, happy to escape the rain under his front porch.

You bang on the door loudly.

“Sukuna! Sukuna it’s me, can you help me!” you yell over the storm, doubting he can even hear you and if he could, if he’d even want to be in your presence. He has no reason to talk to you again.

To your surprise, the front door opens and you are met with the moody version of the fun loving guy you’ve hung out with the last few days. His face quickly morphs into one of concern, opening the door and coming out to join you.

“Jesus what are you doing out here?” he inspects you, brushing water off of your face and arms.

“It’s Macy, I need your help. I accidentally left her out and then the storm started. She’s terrified of them and I think she’s run off,” you are fighting back tears, voice shaking with fear and likely from the chills that are currently wracking your body as the wind slams into your drenched body.. 

“Of course, lemme put some shoes on,” he responds without missing a beat, disappearing momentarily before coming back outside with a raincoat.

“Go back to your house, let me look for her,” he says gruffly, tucking you under his raincoat, arm slipping around your waist and guiding you out into the yard. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, listen to me please, it’s not safe to be out in this,” he says seriously as lightning streaks across the sky. 

“Gimme your car keys, I’m gonna take your dad’s car.”

“What about your license?”

“Hence why I’m taking the other car, no one will know it’s me,” he scoffs, obviously getting annoyed being out in the rain. 

You unclip your house key from the car key, giving it to him. You stand glued in place, staring at him as if paralyzed on what to do next. 

“Go the fuck on inside!” Sukuna has no patience at this point, dragging you to the front stoop and shoving you towards the door.

Time seems to pass at a sluggish pace as you wait. Five minutes turns to ten and before you know it, thirty minutes have gone by with no sign of the storm letting up. 

You almost go to call Sukuna when you see headlights coming down the driveway. Jumping up, you move to open the front door and almost collapse in relief as you see Sukuna carrying a sopping wet Macy in his arms. 

You rush upstairs to get some towels in preparation for the soaking wet mess that is about to come through those doors. You hold the door open for Sukuna to squeeze by you, standing on the doormat, water running down his legs and soaking the rug.

His pink hair looks darker now and completely is plastered to his face, eyes barely perceptible from being hidden by his wet strands.

“Oh my god, you found her! Are you ok?” you dab the towel at his face, wiping his eyes and cheeks before getting his neck and arms.

“As good as I can be,” he mutters, leaning down so you can towel off his hair. 

“Let’s get this mutt to the bathtub and dry her off,” he says. You untie his shoes and help him kick them off before leading everyone to the bathroom.

Not long after, Macy is as dry as she can be and trots off to hide under the kitchen table, tired from her little adventure.

“Thank you so much Sukuna, I-I don’t know how I can ever repay you. That was so selfless. Truly, thank you again,” you look up at him as he heads back towards the front door.

“Don’t mention it, what kind of man would I be to let a girl run around in the rain by herself. I’m gonna go now, stay dry tomato girl,” he ruffles your hair before disappearing out into the storm.

As you watch him walk away, your heart drops into your stomach. He went out in the fucking storm for a girl who hurled all kinds of accusations at him just the night before. Such an unselfish act, putting you first when he had no reason to.

You wish he’d stop, wish he’d turn around and come back. You want him to stay. Your heart burns with the need to be with him, be close to him, to apologize for everything and explain yourself. Hanging out together meant more than you realized judging by the pang of emptiness you felt as the day dragged on without him, like a part of your routine was missing.

A second chance. It’s now or never, seeing how he’s almost halfway up the driveway.

Your legs move before your brain can even send the command. You rush up the driveway, the pavement slick beneath your feet, lightning flashing in your peripheral as thunder reverberates around you. You reach for his arm, fingers slipping on his rain-slicked skin, but you do enough to get his attention as he turns around in shock.

“Get back inside! Are you purposely trying to drown yourself today!” he enunciates loudly over the storm, irritation plastered across his face.

“Come back, come back please,” you throw your arms around him, pressing yourself into his chest, your cheek plastered against the drenched fabric of his shirt. 

You stare desperately up into his face, the lightning illuminating his crimson eyes. Eyes that look troubled, as if trying to decipher your intent, trying to decide if you mean this or if you are just going to rip the rug out from under him again. 

The rain drips down his pink bangs and onto your cheeks as he looks down on you, seeming to study every part of your face.

“You know I want to,” he mutters, voice deep against your ear, “don’t do this to me if you don’t really mean it.”

“I want you Sukuna. Please, let me try again. I’ll explain, just come back inside,” you choke out, fingers twisting into the waterlogged fabric of his shirt.

In response, his lips find yours, enveloping you in a calm reprieve as the storm rages around you both. Nothing else matters, just his arms around you as you convey the desperation that exists for each other. Each brush of your noses dislodges the rain from his lashes and hair, showering you with droplets warm from his body heat. 

He picks you up, hooking your legs around his waist and intensifying his movements. He forces his tongue into your mouth, clashing with yours, exploring the softness of your cheeks and following the ridges of your gums. 

He strides back towards the house, devouring you, lips welded to yours as the wind blown rain pelts both of you.

The cold air indoors sends shivers down your skin as he opens the door, all your senses suddenly present again as the walls shut out sounds of the chaos outside.

“Where,” he groans against your lips, water dripping from both of your clothes and pattering against the hardwood floor.

“Downstairs, guest room,” you utter against his lips, fingers digging into his jaw tattoos as if clinging to him to shelter you from the storm in more ways than one.

Sukuna wastes no time traversing the staircase, kicking the bedroom door shut behind him and pressing you up against the wall, both of you groping and grabbing, tearing the wet shirts off of each other and letting them drop to the floor.

You both pause, his forehead pressed against yours, chests heaving from a combination of your passionate kissing and the chill air that suddenly hits your damp skin.

“I’m freezing,” you giggle, causing him to snort in amusement. You trace his chest tattoos with your finger, feeling the hard muscle beneath you.

“Yeah why don’t we dry off and warm up,” he plants a soft kiss on your cheek as he moves you both over to the fireplace on the other side of the room, setting you down gently on the carpeted floor.

You turn on the propane fireplace while he grabs some towels out of the attached bathroom, joining you in front of the heat.

You’re down to a sports bra and shorts, feeling a little self conscious at being so exposed, but the heat of the fire radiating against your bare skin is a welcome relief. 

Sukuna peels his shorts off so he’s just in his boxers and you take one of the towels and start to dry him off, working from his upper shoulders and down his back. You chase the small rivulets of water that’d collected in the dips and valleys of his back muscles, tracing the ink that follows a similar path. You move to each leg, encountering tattooed rings around his thighs that make your breath hitch, before turning him around to get his front side. 

You end up taking your sweet time as if memorizing the ridges of his chest and abs as you drag the towel down towards his waistband. 

He sits down on the floor, giving you easier access to towel dry his hair. You can’t deny that he looks cute with his pink locks hanging down in his eyes, but he’s soon running his fingers through his hair to give it his slicked back appearance again.

He in turn does the same for you, sliding your shorts off so you are down to your bra and panties, respectfully drying you from head to toe, not missing how his eyes burn a trail down your skin as they rove over every exposed inch like a spotlight in the dark.

Finally, he launches the towels at the wall, leaning forward to kiss you again as the fire illuminates the room, crackling flames dancing in the reds of his eyes. 

“I’m sorry Sukuna,” you say as you both pull away. His mouth twitches, eyes flicking towards the floor before looking back, willing you to continue.

“Last night, those things I said, you aren’t a bad man, you aren’t a criminal, you weren’t doing anything wrong. I wanted everything you were giving me, I was just…I just got scared. I panicked,” you say quietly, staring into the flames.

He takes your hand in his, rubbing his thumb along your knuckles in a comforting pattern.

“Cam, he has a history of showing up where I am unannounced and giving me hell for it. I don’t know, I just had the thought of him finding me, finding us-“

“I know I asked you this once before, but has he hurt you? Like beyond just words?” Sukuna interrupts you. 

You slowly nod your head, looking down in shame, feeling the tears start to build up behind your eyes.

Sukuna tips your chin up, sorrow in his gaze, caressing your cheeks as his thumbs catching the  damp streaks that inevitably form.

“It pains me to hear that, truly. You know you don’t deserve it right? It’s never justified, and it’s never, ever, your fault,” he says softly, pressing gentle kisses into your forehead. 

“I’m sorry too. I came on really strong, and I should have been more attuned to your feelings, knowing the things you’ve been through. Even if he did show up right now, I wouldn’t let him hurt you, wouldn’t let him lay a finger anywhere near you. You’re safe here with me. I promise.” 

“I know,” your lip trembles as you absorb his words, basking in their meaning. They are more heartfelt than Cam has ever given you, coming from a man you’ve known for such a brief time, even though in this moment it feels like you’ve known him forever. He’s someone you could predict, you can anticipate how he would react to things. Harming you was not a possibility.

“Why me though? You deserve to be with someone without all this baggage, wouldn’t it be easier to just have some fun with a woman that you don’t need to tread lightly around wounds that you never caused?” 

He takes your hands in his, watching how your fingers tangle with his before looking back up at you.

“And I don’t have baggage? I’ve been arrested three times now, move drugs for a living, and have a rap sheet longer than some people’s obituaries. Don’t paint me like I’m a saint, that opioid crisis they are always spouting off about? I make money off of it, people overdose and die because of what I do, what I provide them. The only difference is my baggage is self-inflicted while you never asked for yours.”

“We both can’t change what’s happened in the past, but we can change things for the future, we can help make each other better. Look, I-I know I’ve only known you for what, four days? Which seems like nothing, not even a corporate work week, but you’ve completely turned my life upside down. I know it probably sounds like I’m talking nonsense, but you’ve made me want to change everything, give all this up, and be a better man. 

And those four days, I want them to become 8, then 16, 32, 64 and continue doubling indefinitely into some number that I don’t even fucking know the name of, until I can’t even remember how it all began, just that it began and will end with you.” 

You swear you stop breathing, the air trapped in your lungs threatening to burst. Sukuna, the man you didn’t know you were looking for, found you on the same street where you started your life’s journey having grown up just 10 miles away from each other. Always so close, but never knowing it, you’d been like satellites in each other’s orbit, never finding each other until you needed each other the most. Two broken souls, using shattered pieces from the other to fill the gaps, forever binding yourselves together. 

“Sukuna,” you take a long pause, “I think I love you,” your voice quivers with fear as you utter such vulnerable words.

“And I know I love you.” he hits you with that boyish grin as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear before giving you a loving kiss, a kiss that has both of you grinning into each other's mouths, giddy with the excitement of what’s to come.

“I want to continue where we left off last night,” you whisper as you trail soft kisses down his tattooed jaw, earning a soft moan from his throat.

“I’ll follow your lead, go at your own pace,” he sighs as you move to his neck, licking and sucking at his skin, taking your time getting attuned to everything about him.

It’s different being with someone you trust. Normally you’d rush into the main event, hoping to get it over with so you could get away from Cam. Emotionless sex to try and buy his favor for another few hours at best.

But now, you are at peace to just reclaim moments like these, feeling safe enough to actually take the time to appreciate every facet of Sukuna’s body and showing him how much you appreciate him.

You guide him to his back, the flickering flames still providing much needed warmth as your hot kisses make their way to his collarbone. 

“Is this too slow?” you pause, worried you’re taking too long.

“Not at all, love it,” he responds with reassurance.

You continue your exploration of his body, tongue gliding through the ridges and valleys of his muscular physique until you reach the waistband of his boxers that look like they are about to burst from the bulge in their confines. You lightly stroke him through the fabric, earning a sharp groan from Sukuna as his erection twitches under you.

He feels fucking massive, but you’re determined to find out just how large as you coax him to lift his hips. Sliding them off, his hardened length comes into view and springs back against his abs. 

“Holy shit Sukuna,” you giggle in surprise. That’s going to…take some work.

“What?” he grins, palming himself as he sits up to look at you. 

“You know what,” you brush his hand away so you can take over.

“I knowwww, I’ll help you though if you decide you wanna go that route,” he exhales as you wrap your fingers around his thick shaft, slowly pumping his length.

“I do very much want to go that route,” you whisper in his ear as you pump his cock faster, thumb running over his defined head and dragging precum along his skin to help you glide more easily.

“Fuuuuuck,” he moans, throbbing in your hand as you grip him tighter, loving how vocal he is with each stroke of his cock.

“You’re gonna have to stop if that’s what you wanna do,” he teases, looking up at you through lust filled eyes, reaching out to grab your wrist reluctantly. 

You giggle as disappointment shows on his features when you stop gripping him. 

He strips you of your remaining layers, both of you now completely bare to the other. Picking you up, he moves you to the bed, laying your head down gently on the pillows as he sits back to admire you.

“So fucking perfect,” he sighs as he runs a hand from your neck down to cup your breast, thumb rolling your nipple until it hardens under his touch. He returns the favor to you, kissing and nipping all over every inch of your body, as if mapping it out and committing it to memory. 

“Sukunaaaa,” you say his name between breathless moans as his tongue rolls your nipple in his mouth, the other being worked by his skilled hands. Your hands are in his hair, nails digging into his scalp as he continues his ministrations. 

“Can I eat you out?” 

“Holy fuck yes,” you answer quickly. Considering how fucking good his tongue felt on your body, you could only dream of how it would feel against your soaked core.

You didn’t have to wait long because seconds later his head is between your legs, hair tickling your inner thighs. He’s licking long stripes from your entrance to your clit, already making your hips buck in anticipation.

“You’re sooooo wet already,” he murmurs against your cunt, lapping up everything he can before he dives in for more.

“So-sorry, just, haven’t had this in ages,” you stutter, feeling embarrassed all of a sudden.

“Fuck, don’t apologize. Also what a sorry excuse for a man to not go down on you,” he grumbles before he starts devouring you.

It’s so messy, so sloppy, the wet, lewd sounds almost echoing off the wall with the way he plunges his tongue into your cunt. His nose brushes against your clit, making you cry out from sheer bliss at the way he’s practically worshiping your pussy, making you feel so fucking good. You can’t look away, his blown out eyes locked onto yours, watching and observing your every reaction. You feel like you might actually rip his hair out with how hard you’re digging in, but he doesn’t seem to mind, doubling down on his efforts every time you rake your nails through his scalp. 

All his attention moves to your clit, alternating between swirling it with his warm tongue and flicking against it in a way you didn’t even know you needed. You grind yourself against him, seeking even more of that perfect friction. 

Maybe you’re extra sensitive because your loser boyfriend never attempts to make you finish, but you feel the orgasm fast approaching and you have no desire to slow it. 

“Sukuna, keep going, I’m close Sukunaaaa,” you whine, losing yourself in the moment. Each perfect drag of his tongue pushes you closer to the edge, a feeling you haven’t felt in god knows how long. 

One last flick from his skilled tongue is your undoing as the orgasm tears through you, crying his name over and over as your hips buck wildly against his face. Sukuna holds you in place when you try to push off, seeing to it that his mouth never leaves your clit as each hot wave of pleasure rolls over you, making you see stars, remembering nothing but the way his name leaves your lips.

He kisses your core one final time before he moves up to kiss your lips. You feel like dead weight, relishing in the post orgasmic bliss as you taste yourself on his tongue. 

“Damnnn you taste so fucking good,” he smirks, sitting back up, cheeks glistening with your arousal, even covering part of his chin tattoos.

“Ummm I can get used to all of that, that felt fucking amazing,” you sigh, staring up into his darkened eyes. 

“You’ll never go without again,” he grins.

“I’ve got condoms in my toiletry bag over there,” you point to the bag on the dresser.

“Don’t needa tell me twice,” he leaps up, tearing the bag open which has you giggling in amusement at his eagerness. 

“Damn girl,” he holds up the roll of four condoms, letting them dangle from his hand. His naked, muscular body looks fucking divine as the light from the fire flickers against his skin in the dim light.

“I know it seems like a lot, they’re just leftover from buying some while trav-“

“Nooooo, seems like not enough considering you are here for five more days,” he gives you that boyish grin, making your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. The idea of having sex with him four times makes your pussy clench with excitement.

“Might not even be enough for tonight.”

“Sukuna!”

“Relaaaax, I’m joking, sort of.” 

He tears one off and puts the corner in his mouth, quickly rejoining you. As he lays back down next to you, his hand slides up your inner thigh, knuckles brushing against your entrance.

“I said I’d help you,” he mutters through the foil as he slowly pushes a finger into your soaking cunt. It’s sooooo deep, deeper than you could ever reach. 

He works a second one in, gently thrusting in and out, feeling the stretch transition to pleasure with each drag of his digits against your walls. You groan as he curls his finger to prod at your spongy sweet spot, stopping to stroke it a few times.

“That’s it huh?” he gives you a toothy smile, eyes almost rolling when you clench around him.

“Fuck I need to feel that on my cock,” he gasps, quickly pulling out and tearing the packet open with his teeth. He slides it on with no hesitation, nudging his way between your legs.

You feel his tip at your entrance for just a moment as your eyes lock one more time. You give him a small nod and with that, he thrusts his hips forwards, easing his way inside. You both gasp, you at the sudden stretch and him at the feeling of your velvety walls clinging to his tip.

“Hold onto me,” he utters, waiting until you grip his shoulders before starting to work you open with short slow thrusts, letting you adjust as he sinks deeper and deeper. Now you understand his request because your nails digging into his skin is the only thing to counteract the intense, full feeling his thick cock gives you. 

“Fuckkkk baby you’re so goddamn tight,” Sukuna groans as he finally bottoms out, giving you a deep kiss as he pulls all the way out and slowly thrusts back in. You swear you can feel each vein on his shaft through the fucking condom dragging against your walls with how snug of a fit he is.

“I don’t know if I’m tight, you’re just so fucking big,” you chuckle against his lips.

“Ummm, you’re tight, trust me on that sweets, I think I’ve been in more pussies than you,” he jokes back at you while giving you slow, deep strokes.

“And I think you’re big, I’ve had more dicks ins-“ 

“Okay I believe you!” he shoves his hand over your mouth and you both erupt into a fit of giggles.

Sex with Sukuna just feels fun. Playful even, just like his general personality. There’s no pressure to perform a certain way, all the self consciousness you were feeling earlier just melts away, as you both take everything in stride and enjoy getting used to and learning about one another. 

After a few more slow thrusts, you beg him to go faster which he happily obliges, angling himself towards your sweet spot which has you moaning his name.

“Kunaaaaa yes! Just like that,” you cry out, nails digging into his shoulders as his cock head kisses you in just the right place over and over.

“Yeah? Right here?” he grunts, speeding up his movements even more, causing your eyes to roll. He hooks your leg behind his waist, plunging himself even deeper into your tight cunt as he drives you harder into the mattress. 

You forgot how good sex could feel, sure the physical was good in its own way, but the emotional security while doing it with someone you care for is unmatched.

You’re truly able to let yourself go and get lost in the other person, forgetting about everything except for each other. That’s how it was with Sukuna right now, trusting him to give you what you need and being open to you telling him what you want.

“Can I be on top?” you whisper in his ear.

“Fuck yeah, get on girl,” he nips at your neck before pulling out, propping himself up on the pillows.

You wanted to feel in control and selfish for your own pleasure for a change, and Sukuna was the kind of man to let you have that. Not like he cared either way, you looked fucking great riding his cock, his eyes glued to the way your tits were bouncing in his face while you angled yourself in just the way you needed.

“That’s it baby, fuckin’ use it, use me,” his hands rest on your hips, letting you be in control while his strong arms help to steady you, the perfect team player. 

“Can you take the condom off?” you whine, wanting to feel all of him.

“Huhhh? Really?” his eyes widen and you swear you feel him throb inside of you.

“Yeah, I’m on birth control,” you slow down and roll your hips a few times while waiting for his response. 

“Shit I’m probably gonna bust in two seconds, but fuck it, I’m willing to take that chance to feel all of you, raw and gripping me like that,” he says, lifting you up, pulling the condom off, and tossing it on the floor.

You realign yourself and take him to the hilt in one go.

“Holy shit! Fuck! Ah-shit,” he hisses, head falling back hard against the headboard with a thud, eyes rolling up to stare at the ceiling.

“Oh god are you ok?” you snort at his dramatic response. 

“Maybe, I don’t fuckin’ know, but god fuckin’ move baby,” his eyes are locked onto where you are both connected, mind only focused on one thing. He feels too damn good, his perfect cock gliding through your walls, tip just kissing your cervix as you start to feel the pool of desire within you heating up again.

You become needier, bouncing faster, angling yourself so that his fat tip hits your sweet spot, feeling yourself gushing from the impending climax. Sukuna looks like he’s barely holding on, focusing so hard on…something, probably something strange to keep his composure. His fingers are gripping you so hard, likely leaving marks on your skin.

“I’m gonna cum, help me,” you whine just as the orgasm consumes your movements and you clench around him with no control. Sukuna, being such an attentive partner, takes over thrusting into you from below, letting you ride out the high as your vision goes white from the hot waves of pleasure convulsing throughout your body.

“Fuck oh my god you’re so fucking perfect,” he growls, staring up at you with awe as you start to collapse against him, catching you with his strong arms.

“It’s a miracle I lasted through that,” he chuckles as he starts to roll you both back over, locking your legs around his waist as he slowly starts to rock into you again.

“Do you really love me?” you say softly, staring up into his eyes.

“You know I do,” he groans, his rhythm starting to get sloppy.

“Mmm, I love you too Sukuna,” you sigh, feeling him throb inside of you.

“Fuck! I’m gonna cum, where do you wannit?” he utters through gritted teeth.

“Inside.”

“Shit.”

“Fucking deep inside Kuna, want you to fill me up,” you moan, rocking your hips against his.

“Goddamn girl, gonna fuckin’ kill me,” he groans and with one last impossibly deep thrust, he unleashes his hot load, hips stuttering as he pumps thick ropes of cum into your pussy. 

He buries his face in the crook of your neck as his body finally begins to still, his hair tickling your skin as you cling to him, melding both of your bodies together. Your chests heave against each other as you catch your breaths, Sukuna’s large body pinning you beneath him. 

“Thaaaaat, was fucking awesome,” he finally exclaims, moving to lay at your side, pulling you snug against his chest.

“You have no idea,” you sigh with contentment, snuggling up to his warm body. 

You doze off and on while pressed up against him, his heartbeat thrumming against your cheek and his fingers tracing lazy circles on your upper arm. 

“Sorry I fell asleep on you,” you give him a sheepish smile as you sit up, turning to look at him.

“Tch, l just came inside you and you’re concerned that you fell asleep on me?” he teases, eyes lighting up. He looks genuinely happy and it makes your worries wash away.

“Shut up! Just…didn’t know how you’d be acting after all that.”

“I personally adore knowing I fucked you so good you passed out,” he grins, pulling you on top of his broad chest.

“I guess you did huh, body isn’t used to it I suppose,” you say as you rest your chin on his pecs.

“Hmm, that’s okay, thought it was cute having you fall asleep on me. You’re welcome to anytime,” he replies, his warm words making you want to bury yourself in his chest again.

“Oh I ordered a pizza while you were asleep, it should be here soon,” Sukuna says.

“Thank god!” you are starving and haven't even thought about dinner.

The doorbell rings and Sukuna gets up to grab you a fresh towel to clean up with.

“I’m sorry I should have done this earlier, I can come back to help you clean up,” he says as he searches the floor for his shorts.

“You’re fine, I’ll be up in a bit,” you wave him off, but appreciate the concern.

You clean up briefly and then pull on some sweats and a hoodie, trudging upstairs to join him. You realize you are pretty fucking sore right now, legs feeling a little shakey as you climb the stairs.

The storm must have stopped while you were both downstairs, the last traces of daylight rapidly fading into night as you peek out the window. Sukuna is in the kitchen getting plates and also a glass of water for you. He gives you a drive by peck on the lips before sitting down next to you.

“So what’s the plan,” Sukuna blurts out as he tends to do, he really has zero filter when it comes to saying what’s on his mind.

“What plan?” 

“The plan for you and me.”

“Well I don’t know the plan, but we can make one together,” you chuckle, “what’s at the top of your list?”

“I want you to be my girlfriend,” he says bluntly, taking a big bite of pizza while you almost choke on yours. 

“Damn okay tomato girl, don’t puke all over yourself in disgust at the thought,” he teases while you slap his arm, trying to regain your composure. 

“No! It just surprised me is all. Can you do a long distance relationship? I still have another year for my masters at least.”

“You’re worth waiting for. We can video call and shit too, and I’ll come visit you.”

“AND, while you are in school, I can go back to school too. Maybe we can be done close to the same time,” he adds. 

“Oh really?” 

“Yeah, been thinking about it since yesterday.”

“What do you think you’d want to go for?” 

“Probably something with car maintenance and repair. Actually seems to pay pretty well for the area and I already know a lot about working on them. I thought I could finish my business degree and do the apprenticeship at the same time. There’s so many online degree choices now, I should be able to make both work. God knows I have enough money.” 

“I think that is a great idea,” you respond, getting butterflies thinking about the future together. “My parents are going to be in for a shock.”

“Ha, yeah they are. They’re usually alright with me though, hopefully they’ll come around after hearing our plans. No way I’m worse than Cam. Which by the way, you technically have two boyfriends right now, playa,” he winks at you, making you snort in response. 

“I haven’t technically said yes to you yet,” you tease as you pinch his tattooed cheek, “and yes, I will be your girlfriend Sukuna. I’ll also send Cam a breakup text after eating then block him.” 

“Good, I don’t like being the other man.”

“Popsicle?” you ask, getting up to raid the freezer.

“Yes ma’am!”

One popsicle later, Sukuna has whisked you back downstairs and has his head between your legs again, eating the “real dessert” as he called it. He stops to let you send your breakup text, saying he wouldn’t let you cum until you were only his, but after that, the man is all over you until the early morning hours when you finally tap out, unable to keep your eyes open anymore.

Day 5

You awaken the next morning to Sukuna’s arms wrapped around your body and legs tangled in yours. It must be late considering the way the sun is beaming through the window. 

You groan with discomfort, your whole body feels sore and you are absolutely famished. 

“Sukuna,” you say sleepily, shaking him.

“Hmm? What?” he responds in a sleep raspy voice, sitting up and shoving his hair out of his eyes. 

“So hungry.”

“Lemme go get us some donuts.”

Your mouth waters at the thought, a local shop in the area makes apple cider donuts that you miss so much now that you live out of the area.

“What about your license?”

“It’ll be fine, I drive all the time and it’s not an issue. I just gotta be a good boy and not drive crazy,” he laughs. 

You feel yourself about to fall back asleep so you don’t argue. He crawls over to you, planting a soft kiss on your lips before getting up.

“I’ll be back in a bit, why don’t you sleep a little more, you look…quite rough,” he snickers.

“Wow I wonder what could have possibly caused this?” you roll your eyes at him. 

“Hmm I wonder?” he jokes, throwing on a shirt and sweats that he got from his house last night. 

“Love you tomato girl…friend,” he looks so proud of himself for coming up with that, making you groan.

“You are…something,” you burst out laughing, “love you too, see you soon.”

He comes over and gives you a big, crushing goodbye hug. 

“God I wish you could stay a little longer,” he nuzzles his face into your neck.

“It'll all be okay,” you thread your fingers through his hair one more time before he leaves you to bury yourself in the sheets again, quickly letting sleep consume you once again.

You are jarred from your slumber by your phone ringing. You sit up, disoriented, realizing it’s almost 3PM, much later than Sukuna was supposed to be back. Maybe he was upstairs letting you sleep.

You pick up your phone to answer. 

“Hello?”

“This is a collect call from an inmate at the Southeastern Regional Jail, press 7 to accept.” 

Masterlist

taglist: @clp-84 @zeunys @aquaberrydolphin @nynxtea @yuujispinkhair @ssc7514

[blade287]

Stalker hcs - Lawrence and Ren

Slight NSFW, stalking, kidnapping

Lawrence;

- Very careful about following you. Likes to keep his distance and will be deterred if you're around other people. If you're alone or it's late at night, he'll be less cautious.

- Has your routine written in notes and will research the places you go frequently. If the place is public, he may 'show up' on occasion, but will avoid getting too close. Will get anxious if you don't follow or have an unpredictable routine.

- If you work in retail or customer service, you might notice him during your shifts (mostly in passing, but sometimes he'll stick around). Maybe he'll muster up the courage to approach you one day... Or not. He's shy!

- Will lurk around your house whenever he can, peeking through your windows if he thinks he won't be spotted. Would be pretty disappointed if your curtains were closed.

- If he's absolutely certain you aren't home, he may try and sneak in. If he does, he'll make sure to leave as little evidence as possible, he does not want to be caught.

- Doesn't like seeing you with other people and will get progressively more jealous if you're with them often.

- Likes to leave you small gifts. You'll often find trinkets or dried flowers, sometimes with short notes (something simple usually, like "have a nice day"). If you're sad or sick, he'll leave them more often. He doesn't have the money to get you anything expensive

- Closet perv. He'll go through your laundry or underwear and jerk off to your scent, but feels so guilty afterwards. Doesn't have the nerve to take anything home, no matter how much he'd like to. Clothes you throw away however... He will absolutely take those.

- If you were to call him out or catch him in the act, he'd panic. He'd get very defensive and deny it, and if that doesn't work, he'd get violent.

- Would spend months planning a kidnapping (because there's no way you'd willingly go with him, right?), but the longer he waited the more anxious he'd get. Will likely end up hurting you in the process, though it would be unintentional.

Ren;

- Much less careful. It won't be obvious he's following you, but it'll be much more noticeable than Lawrence. You might actually spot him if you're quick enough.

- Has your routine memorised and will show up almost everywhere you go, regardless of if the place is public or not. Will 'wander' into the wrong bathroom or a restricted area just to follow you. The more you notice him the happier he is.

- If you work retail or customer service, he'd be a regular. Always asking for you over other workers and may even refuse help if you're not available. More than happy to chat with you and often tries to make small talk.

- Stalks your social medias and has all your posts saved. If you have photos of yourself, he'll jerk off to them.

- Will find a way to break into your home, no matter how much security you have. He's small and nimble so will squeeze through open windows, or at least climb up to them. You might find claw marks where he's tried to force his way in.

- Very easily jealous and doesn't like seeing you with other people. The closer you are with them, the angrier he gets. If they're in any photos of you, he'll crop them out.

- Definitely the type to steal your underwear, or any clothing for that matter. If it smells like you, he wants it, and if he can take it, why shouldn't he? You'll have to go clothes shopping pretty often...

- Loves to lay in your bed, hug (and hump) your pillows, smell your clothes. Unlike Lawrence, Ren has no shame and wants to leave his scent on everything. If he could get away with cumming on your things, he would.

- If he was called out or caught in the act, he'd probably break down. Crying, begging, apologising, anything to make you understand. He'd be heartbroken if you hated him.

- If he kidnapped you, he'd probably drug you, think chloroform rags or a spiked drink. Best case scenario, he invites you over and simply doesn't let you leave. Worst case, he has to get violent.

[spiderlot]

I am currently sick and devastated about Lottie’s death bro 😭😭😭

But this got me wondering, what if r! Was dating Lottie and when she dies she starts seeing her just like Shauna saw Jackie? Maybe her personality is the same or maybe it’s different like ghost Jackie’s personality?

Thinking about how r! Is just trying to move on with their life and ignore everything that happened with Lottie but they just keep seeing Lottie every day. It didn’t matter if they were barely getting up, if they were going to work, or if they were going to bed, she was always there, watching.

Random thought but like- what if Shauna and R! Bond over having dead, ghost gfs haunting them? Like- they’re just both talking and one of them just pauses before the other goes 'You’re seeingJackie/Lottie again, huh?' Anyways that’s all I got rn

— 🍵

im sorry i kinda ended up yapping about this....spoilers below obviously.

actually had a dream about going to shauna after finding out lottie died last night... you rly arent close to any of them because you were lottie's controversially younger partner, but you bonded with shauna the most. or maybe you just gravitated to her house because you were there when shauna kicked her out and its the first place you thought of going.

you try to hold everything in so you can ask to talk in private, but after jeff tells shauna you're here, and when she appears in the doorway, you just break down.

"shauna...." you whisper, choking on your sobs. you can hear her mumble an awkward "oh" and she walks forward to close the door for some privacy. you wipe the snot from your lips onto your jacket sleeve and try to form a sentence. "she...i found..." "are you okay? what's going on?" shauna spots the dried blood on your neck, and her heart pounds in her chest. she begins sweating. "lottie. lottie's gone. she-she's dead. i found her body." you can't even see shauna's body as you blurt everything out. you shake your head, not even believing the words you just said even though you saw her body. her dead body. you pull shauna in for a hug, crying and snotting into her shoulder as you repeat lottie's name over and over again.

anyway! onto your idea lolz. you first see lottie when you visit her compound to sign paperwork. you absolutely do not have the means or money to keep it going despite having some of her cash. it's horribly empty. it's scary. you avoid going to her office until you absolutely have to so you can get her things. she never finished cleaning it out after she got released from the facility. thinking about carrying her things in a box back to the car and seeing someone standing outside by the lake. you're just pissed off at anything after her death and get angry, placing the box on the ground as you stomp up to them and ask what the hell they're doing here.

they wont turn around so you grab their shoulder, and oh boy, imagine ur surprise when they turn around and it's fucking lottie. your dead girlfriend, in the flesh. blinking rapidly as you look at her... rubbing your eyes and telling her she's not real.

"am i?" she responds, and the hair on your entire body stands up. when you blink once more, she's gone.

maybe you keep seeing her pop up everywhere until you try to confront her. the reason why you can only see her for a split second was that you are in denial. but now it's rly hard to ignore the fact that you're definitely seeing your dead girlfriend everywhere.

maybe she's more like wilderness lottie :( the one you heard her talk about only briefly. the first thing you ask her is if she's okay and she tells you she's at peace 😭😭😭😭😭😭 lottie rubbing her thumb over your trembling lips and telling you she's sorry ouhguohsdudfs. just immediately crying when feeling her touch again, clinging to her body and telling her you miss her so much :(

again, maybe ur closer to shauna, and you trust her enough to go to her about seeing lottie. and you wouldn't have gone to her if it only happened a few times because it might've been normal, but actually talking to and feeling her? you think she'd understand. telling shauna you're kinda pissed at her and partially blame her and lottie shows up to tell you off 😭 asking shauna what to do when you start seeing lottie decaying? like flashes of her decaying body as you talk to her... shauna opening up justtt a bit about her seeing jackie and trying to help you thru it :(

[callikari]

90210 — park jongseong

SYNOPSIS — being young, rich, and in love is a full-time job. between shopping sprees on rodeo, overpriced smoothies at erewhon, and last-minute lunch plans in malibu, you and jay have perfected the art of luxury. in a city where money moves faster than traffic, the two of you reign as la’s golden couple—effortlessly stylish, endlessly unbothered, and always, always together.

PAIRING — park jongseong (jay) x fem!reader

GENRE(S) — fluff, romance, rich kids of beverly hills, luxury lifestyle, established relationship

WARNING(S) — ridiculous amounts of wealth, absurd spending, jay being a boyfriend you can only dream of, no real responsibilities

WORDCOUNT — 1.7k

AUTHORS NOTE — idk how to feel about this .... ALSO can u guys tell how much i NEED summa

jay has a hand on your thigh, thumb grazing the soft fabric of your vintage chanel mini dress as he drives down sunset boulevard in his black porsche. the windows are down, the la breeze tangling through your hair, and you’re sipping on an overpriced smoothie from erewhon—because what else would you be doing on a thursday afternoon?

“do you even like that?” he asks, glancing at the vibrant pink drink in your hands.

you shrug, taking another sip. “it’s pretty.”

he huffs out a laugh, shaking his head as he switches lanes effortlessly. “you just paid twenty dollars for aesthetics.”

“and?”

he smirks, squeezing your thigh before returning his hand to the wheel. “nothing, babe. just reminding myself why you’re perfect for la.”

—

by the time you reach rodeo drive, your phones are already buzzing. jake’s texting the group chat (where are you guys? rei just dropped an embarrassing amount at bottega), and sunghoon’s snap map location is hovering suspiciously close to cartier.

“bet he’s buying another watch,” jay muses, parking the car with the kind of ease only someone who’s been driving luxury vehicles since sixteen could manage.

you grin, adjusting your sunglasses as you step out onto the pristine sidewalk. “how many does he even have now?”

“too many,” jay mutters, wrapping an arm around your waist as you both stroll toward the boutiques.

inside chanel, rei is already modeling a matching tweed set in front of the mirror while sunoo gives her the harsh truth. “you already own, like, five of those.”

“yeah, but not in this shade,” she counters.

you pluck a classic black bag off the display, turning toward jay. “should i?”

he barely looks at it before nodding. “get it.”

“that was fast.”

“because you look good with anything.”

sunghoon appears then, holding a cartier bag, confirming jay’s earlier bet. “okay, who wants to do lunch? i’m thinking nobu.”

rei wrinkles her nose. “boring. let’s do georgio baldi.”

you exchange a look with jay, and without a word, he’s already pulling out his amex black card.

“get changed,” he tells you with a knowing smirk. “we’re going.”

—

you’re perched on jay’s lap in a malibu restaurant, your newly purchased chanel bag resting beside a half-empty glass of expensive wine. the ocean stretches endlessly before you, waves crashing against the shore, and the golden glow of the late afternoon sun makes everything feel even more unreal.

jay’s fingers trace idle patterns on your thigh, his other hand holding his wine glass. “thinking about something?”

you tilt your head, meeting his gaze. “just that we’re really them.”

he chuckles, pressing a kiss to your temple. “we always have been, baby.”

because at the end of the day, it’s not just about the money or the luxury—it’s about you and him. the golden couple. young, rich, and forever unbothered.

© callikari — all rights reserved

[saintsenara]

Perhaps not the point of your ongoing Snoldemort (Vape?) masterpiece, but I really like how you write Lily. She’s adventurous and determined and charismatic, but also utterly careless about Severus’ emotions and especially his poverty in a way that’s - for those of us who’ve been in the same boat - utterly demeaning. And I think that’s all clearly there in canon too! I know she’s rather underwritten due to her mystery being kept under wraps for 6.95 out of 7 books, but I don’t think she’s *quite* as underwritten as many people think considering she’s only got about 10 lines. So I really love it on the exceedingly rare occasions when she flashes up in fics to be less saintly and more…correct in most respects, but also such a dick about it.

i can't believe i've been foolishly persisting with "snapemort" as the ship name when "vape" was in front of me the whole time.

[a shot of lord voldemort listening to the radio broadcasts of the wizengamot...]

thank you very much for this lovely message about scylla and charybdis, anon! i'm delighted you're enjoying it.

the starting point for her characterisation in the fic was - basically - god forbid a teenage girl not be the most selfless person in history.

i'm always really struck [and completely unsurprised...] that both sides of the fandom debate about snape seem to focus a lot on lily's supposed saintliness. since i'm a snape fan, i end up seeing the anti-lily side of this fairly often - endless rounds of "well if she's so great why didn't she do exactly what snape wanted all the time? why did she simply not accommodate everything he thought? checkmate, snaters" nonsense, which then quickly devolves into "every even mildly negative thought she had about snape was driven by her pure evil"...

but the thing is... even without any of the rest of it - the fact that she's a member of the wizarding world's persecuted underclass and there's a war on, for example - she's allowed to not be constantly thinking about other people's problems. and she's allowed to be annoyed and selfish and uncharitable and rude. and she's allowed to not be constantly filtering her words and actions through every single possible societal nuance in order to make sure she only responds in the most perfect way ever... not least because that's fundamentally impossible.

i like the fact that she never quite gets how snape's poverty changes his engagement with the world - especially in the most recent chapter, when she's thirteen and she thinks she's having a nice time hanging out with her pal and she thinks he's saying what he means when he says he doesn't want anything from the ice cream man, rather than pretending that he doesn't because he hasn't got any money and he finds the idea of admitting that to her to be too humiliating to bear - because it's a situation where neither of them are in the wrong, which i just find much more interesting than the fandom's determination to divide characters who are in conflict into the winner and the loser, or the good person and the bad one, or the person who's right and the person who's wrong.

snape's feelings about his poverty are entirely understandable, and lily clearly hasn't thought as much about it as might be admirable... but it's also his own fault that he doesn't share these feelings with lily, and just expects her to read his mind and modify her behaviour without him offering her any explanation as to why he wants her to do this or offering her any chance to refuse or to ask him to compromise on these desires.

and this lack of honest communication leads to their bigger, much more clear-cut resentments - over james, over mulciber and avery, over dark magic, and - of course - over voldemort. lily's obviously completely correct to say that voldemort is a terrorist and she won't respect anyone who's obsessed with him... the moral argument is black-and-white, lily's the only person who's right.

but the issue is that snape isn't actually arguing from an opposing position. he's not arguing that voldemort isn't a terrorist - he's arguing that voldemort is a terrorist who's also the only person he's ever met who's offering a tangible way for him to get out of poverty. and this is true - both in the fic and, in my view, in the canon text. the material argument is much, much more complicated than the moral one.

lily can't solve these problems - she's just one person, and she doesn't have to risk her own safety to try and deradicalise someone seeking to join an organisation which hates muggleborns - and i don't expect her to have ever been able to do so.

but i also like the fact that - just as snape's major failing in canon is indifference [he can tolerate what voldemort does until it affects him] - the good guys' major failing is indifference too.

the ministry and the order are principled people taking a righteous moral stand against terror... and they also have no idea how the system they're fighting for oppresses all but the elite of wizarding society... whereas voldemort understands this intimately, and he uses it to swell his ranks with disaffected recruits who are looking for someone to blame for their conditions...

[hence why he's the person - even as the text tries to present him as someone whose aims are pureblood oligarchy - who canonically commands the support (or, at the very least, the toleration) of the working classes and the non-human peoples oppressed by the wizarding state...]

but these recruits are nonetheless entirely aware what they're signing up for... they're not joining a legitimate political party, or a union, or an activist group seeking to bring about change through non-violent means... they're joining a terrorist organisation...

but their experience at the hands of the state makes them easy to convince that they've got no other choice...

i like this sort of vicious cycle approach to both the first and the second war because it's so much more interesting than canon's "this is a straightforward battle between good and evil" vibe.

[cryptid-killjoy]

"I don't know. I get lazy on my haircuts sometimes. I'm not sure my curls would do well with a cabby's hat. I'll have to try it out." He laughed.

Were Flotsam and Clopin good friends? "Oh, fuck yeah. The best. He wouldn't be Uncle Clopin if not. Pretty sure my dad was just a busker's fan boy hiding in the tree with stars in his eyes till they finally met." He smirked just picturing it. Dale aired it on the real.

When GoGo had the gull to say money couldn't buy common sense Dale's smile grew and his body didn't just lean in, his heart did. This wasn't a boy that got to open up much so to feel anyone on his side after how hard he fought as a teenager when shit began to hit the fan to watch his own mother not choose him, always wondering what was wrong with him, why he wasn't good enough, not that he'd admit that to a soul, it just felt... good.

"You're telling me. Right? Finally." Then he leaned in real close and told a family secret. It wasn't even his secret to tell, but that's how much Dale was moved by the feeling of connection to another person at all. "She cried diamonds. She was a crybaby about everything. Well, Chip can do it. Cry diamonds. But Chip doesn't cry. It takes a lot to get Chip to cry." It might not have been his to tell, but how he ended it was the most Dale offer ever. "And just for saying what you did, if you ever really get hard up, just let me know, I'll pin him down and pluck his nose hairs. I'll get those eyes watering diamonds to pawn just for you."

Only Dale.

When GoGo belched Dale took that as cue to belch one out on purpose only to try to make his a little louder and then say his own score out loud. "Eh maybe 7. I'll do better next round. Back to the tour."

Also, only Dale. Dale's way of not letting a lady feel weird about the belch as they stared at the playground where the Renault house used to be surrounded by such a ritzy neighborhood. She said she couldn't imagine it. "Yeah well, it was a big ass fancy place with a pool. Gated shit."

He did not look ashamed at all when he was called out as the panty thief. "Because you are correct. Sue me. The panty jail is overcrowded. The most I'll get is probation." He teased.

He kept watching GoGo laugh and he wasn't sure he'd seen her laugh and smile so much. He wasn't even quite sure she could. He liked it.

She asked him if he kicked ass. "Oh puleeze. What do you think? People really need to learn starting shit with this family ends up fatal. People never get the best of us. If they ever win a battle, they only start a war."

He leaned his head back mocking it all. Dale, like most his family did not seek power. He only wanted to be left in alone.

"Look at this Feral city stricken off the US map." He laughed alcohol filled bigger picture eyes all wide quite proud. "Our friends did that. Our circle. Look at Pipes and the Utopia that is that entire country now. An entire country and city of fuck this world's rules. My family's people did that." He poked at GoGo's arm. "Have you ever considered how completely awesome you are that we love you? I mean really. You're so fucking cool."

Yup, Dale was indeed that I love you drunk.

Unless he was angry.

It was Halloween. He was home. He had no reason to be angry. He was happy.

"Oh, you want to come back for a Funkytown party? Then we're putting it on the list. It's happening. We're gonna check it off. I'm taking ya. Hap-pen-nen. It's in stone now."

He thought about her words. "You know what? It was. I didn't get then because it's just where we were. I didn't know any different to know. But it was. It was a cool place, GoGo. It was. I was fucking lucky. Minus the skeeters of course."

She didn't say much when he spoke of Megabyte but it was in her eyes. If anyone understood it was her and he hadn't even realized all this time how alike they really were. He took the taki with a nod of thanks and even though no words were exchanged it felt like a lot more was traded between them, and it felt safe to leave it there with her.

With a jacked-up laptop in tow and emotions shoved back down where Dale likes to keep them the tour moved along.

Of course, Skull Rock. "Yeah, we mean it when we call Willem a pirate."

As for Christmasland and capitalism, "That's why it's well hidden in the depths of this swamp. If you knew this swamp, you'd know why tourists don't have a tendency to find it. I'll tell you what. If we ever get a chance to come here at Christmas time, I'll prove it to you. But it's one of those all nighter hikes. You'll also find out once you're in, you get hijacked by so much merriment it'll make you puke and even capitalists can't escape without jingle bells on their toes and a candy cane in their hand not knowing how they even got back home. You fall asleep there you might just end up in your bed back home. It's fucked up. Like Christmas morning dream magic. It's so weird. It's like the place decides if you get to stay." He shook his head just remembering the wacked upness.

"Oh yeah. I imagine there's still zombies out here. I mean, our family used to release them in the wilds. We used to keep a population count. That was just us. Who knew what other witches were doing. Plus, have zombie releases, like hunting parties for fun. Counts could have been off. Sometimes we'd just end because we were partying it up. There's bound to have been some strays. But, after what happened to the city they've probably migrated over time even if there weren't a lot of people in the swamps to begin with."

As for the change of clean clothes. "Eh, don't worry about it. I'm a swamp boy. I'll live."

The compliments. He couldn't quite tell if she was bothered by them nor was sure he cared. He was telling the truth.

But how much had he had to drink?

"Not enough yet."

He took another swig.

"Doesn't mean it's not true, GoGo. Don't be shy about compliments. You deserve 'em."

He looked down at his Ken doll crop top and laughed.

"Hopefully that doesn't mean I look like someone who really would challenge someone to a beach off. But, cool. Now you've done it. I'll remember that for later. I'll keep up the crop top trend... for your parents." He winked.

There was something fun about that day despite it being super sad.

What else was super sad was the next scattered remains of his actual life. Piper burned down their homestead, but what still remained was random stick dolls or other Blair Witch looking symbols hanging from tree branches the closer they got to the property to scare tourists off. Dale could remember all the actual protection spells on their home only for a family member to destroy it from the inside. He wasn't even mad. It just stirred feelings.

"Woah, woah, woah. Here we are. There. Park.... wherever."

At this point it was pointless to tell her where to pull up. Nearly everything had been burned down by Piper's Hellfire. The fact it was put out was a miracle. It'd been a couple years, and the land had started to heal itself.

Dale opened his car door and take a look around despite GoGo's early concerns of zombies. He still had Chip's gun from earlier, but for now he left it in the car. He was scanning the area visually. It was huge with no house on it. They'd always had such a huge yard anyway. Plus, the yard was right against the river. It was a gorgeous open landscape now. The entire home's remains were buried like a sinkhole underground. The open image so clean and healthy left Dale breathless. He started to point.

"Bunny run. There. Picture it. House. There. Dad's houseboat was always docked there. Pontoon. There." He'd cover his mouth in between each new direction in awe of the nothingness. "Paintball course. All the haystacks. There. Garden. There. That's where we kept all our atv's and off roads. We had a mini-shop to be our own garage in there."

"Oh! It's a few miles out." He spun around. "In that direction. Best mudding run in four county swamps. I swear. We know a dry patch for motorcross too. Hill hopping was Chip's go to. He was a pro. I'll tell you another secret. When we pair up as a team my metal skills help hold a car together that might not otherwise. But I only cheat when people are assholes to me. Plus, it's not always cheating when riding against other magic users. You never know what game they've got up their sleeve. No holds barred derbies are funny. People hexing the fuck outta people."

Then he saw something he didn't have to imagine. "Oh, my fuck. Look up there. Look. Look." He started jogging through the woods. "Is that. It is. Oh God. It is. I thought the fire got everything. Look."

There up high in a tree was one of the platforms he and his brother built. These were seriously tall trees, not your average backyard tree from a suburb.

"It's the Ewok Village. Well, part of it. Oh, look another one. A hut one." He pointed in another direction. Nothing could have wiped the smile off his face then. "The zip line is gone. We used to have them running from tree to tree. We'd walk across them, had ropes, and rope ladders, or just climbed depending on the tree." Then he gave the tree a good look.

"I'm gonna try it."

He was grinning big.

"You wanna?"

He was pointing up.

The guy was having trouble sitting down in a car, got drunk, and now thought he was going to climb a giant tree. Yup, that was so Dale.

“Sounds American enough for me,” Go-Go said. They might as well just loot the store, so she picked up some snacks that she hadn’t seen before yo go along with the alcohol. Poptarts. Hot Chili Takis. Peanut Butter cups. Jelly Bellies. It was Halloween, so bring on the candy rush.

And then onwards to the lengthy tour.

Even with the expensive alcohol burning through her stomach, she was a damn good driver, and took every turn that Dale advised her too, all without crashing onto the sidewalk or into lightposts and fire hydrants. They didn’t have to worry about the average person walking back, Valerie and Thomas had already made their way to the inn, and there were no other walkers.

The classics were cool enough, even if history wasn’t really her thing. “I could see you running one of those tourbuses,” She chuckled up at Dale. “With the microphone, making cheesy jokes to all of the tourists. You would be fantastic.”

She knew who most of the people that he talked about were. Clopin, obviously, they had met a couple of times, not the least of all she had seen him and his husband tonight, having a good time at the Ball. She tried to picture him as a younger man, which was pretty amusing. She could only do so with clown makeup. “They must be pretty close friends then,” She said, about Flotsam bringing up that tree everytime they would have passed it by.

She was snacking now, mixing the spicy with the sweet. Half-melted peanut butter cups with the takis stuffed in them. It was a feast for the eyes, for the ears, and now for the tongue.

“A magic school … full of teenagers … next to a super dangerous forest,” GoGo said dryly. She didn’t have to be a genius to figure out that it was going to go all wrong from the beginning. She didn’t mean to trash on his birth mom but she couldn’t help saying - “Really don’t think she was smart enough to open a school in the first place. Money can’t buy common sense, evidently.”

The construction was forever going to be unfinished. The person who had been working on it, meticulously building it back up, was long dead. Somewhere out there wandering, most likely. Forever searching for his toddler daughter. Tragic. Moving on.

She wasn’t used to these kind of compliments yet. She was growing adjusted to them, since the Laveaus could be complimentary people if they liked you. Especially Scout. But that coming from Dale, plus the snacks, plus the liquor.

She let out a belch as the bubbles from the alcohol seemed to come back up, and then giggled at herself. “Yeah, I’m glad you guys became kiwis too.”

They went into the fancy neighborhood. There was a playground now, at the place where Dale was pointing. The place that had once been the Renault house until Boogie destroyed it. “I always forget that those two were a thing,” She laughed, looking out the window, tilting her head slightly. “I really can’t imagine it.”

When they met, Chip had multiple wives. And Maddy was at the very least engaged to Bastien, and they were married shortly after the Laveaus moved to New Zealand. Anything else just seemed - odd.

“Why do I feel like it was you being the panty-stealer and not your brother?”

They kept on driving and stopping but Go-Go really didn’t mind. They had all night. And all day. “You kicked his ass, didn’t you?” She said about the guy that was running his mouth. That seemed a very Dale-like thing to do.

Funkytown was lit and looked like it was jumping, even if Figaro and Willem weren’t there quite yet. Door clown was dancing in the doorway, his hat just being seen through the window in the front door. Small figures were silhouettes through thin curtains. There was even a thump that could be heard from the outside (Diana’s leg had fallen off again and she took a tumble down the stairs, though she was alright as always). “Well shit, I hope we get to come back for a Funkytown party.”

She’d take occasional swigs of the liquor despite driving. Without any other cars on the roads, or pedestrians, there wasn’t as much worry. The alcohol seemed to help expand her mind during all of these stories, taking in what was behind and between the words. Getting to know Dale in a new light. Hell, they had even lived together and she didn’t know him that well. This was the most that they had talked, at least since her father kicked her out.

They really were going everywhere, from downtown to rich-ville to the trailerpark. This place had a lot of history, though Go-Go was only getting bits and pieces of it right now. She parked the car in front of the trailer that Dale was indicating, the headlights bringing light onto it. It looked abandoned. It looked … rough.

“Yeah,” She nodded, knowing that feeling all too well of losing a best friend. Fuck, she knew it well, as Dale had found out earlier. “I’m sure we would have got on.”

She held out another peanut-butter taki creation and the expensive bottle of alcohol, not saying anything.

“So you just make it your mission to be everyone’s big brother, huh?” She asked after a moment, remembering Babyface and Ellie, the two youngest at the Ball apart from when Frankie was brought up.

She stopped when he suddenly called out the wait, and climbed out through the open window, sitting on the door and leaning over the hood of the car, watching as he ran in and took a bunch of electronics. Even she was eyeing some of the stuff when he brought it back. “Damn, that’s a jacked-up laptop.”

In a good way, of course.

But then back to the roads, passing through places that … looked like a dream. Especially Sherwood forest. With it not being lit up, it looked like something out a horror movie that Figaro would love. Deserted. The joust was over.

“You’re lucky,” She spoke, after Dale was reminiscing about what one could do in the city in the span of a single day. “To have grown up somewhere so cool.”

Down the even shadier road, the trees not being tended to and growing out of control, limbs going out onto the road, making their branches hit the windshield. Nothing cracked it yet, but who could tell what would happen later down the line. There was a feeling of excitement growing inside of her to see the ruins of the old Laveau house, which she had heard so much about. It was like a little kid catching the first glimpse of a ferris wheel or a roller coaster on the way to an amusement park. So closer, just a little further.

“Of course there’s a Skull Rock, why am I not surprised.”

“I don’t know whether to believe you or not,” She teased. A door to another world just seemed … so crazy. So unlikely. And something that someone would definitely snatch up and use to make money or something like that. Build a resort in Christmasland. Capitalism as its finest. “Let me guess, Santa lives in there?”

The smell grew heavier the more they went. A heady, green smell that made her feel a little bit dizzy, though that could have been the alcohol too. She was driving slower, with the swamps all around. It looked and felt as if the car could get stuck and go down into the murky depths at any second. “You said there’s zombies around here, in these woods, right?” She asked, rolling up her window for the time being.

“Oh shit, yeah, probably,” She said, taking in Dale’s outfit again. It had been funny in the first place but now there was grass stains on the pink shirt from when he had crashed into the ground. Dirt stains too, on his knees and other parts of his body. Not to mention that half of him looked like a giant bruise, partly her doing. “I’d offer ya something but - it’s not my car so there’s no sweater in the back.”

She turned her head to look at him with an eyebrow raised, and then laughed, shaking her head, looking back to the trail. It was dark out here, despite the slowly raising sun. They couldn’t see beyond the headlights. More compliments. “Right, and you’ve had how much to drink tonight?”

“My parents hate everything, to be fair,” She cracked up, thinking of what their faces would look like if they could see her right now. “Almost wish I was talking to them again, just so I could tell them about this. Alone, with you, in our costumes, in a stolen car, in an abandoned city halfway across the world, going down what seems like the darkest fuckin’ path known to man.”

They’d probably try to exorcise her or something. Slap her with reeds because she didn’t know discipline. Lock her in her room for forty days and forty nights until she came to her senses or some such shit.

“You’re not too bad yourself, crop tops suit you, actually.”

[saicochomo]

There is something that just hits right about asexual Bruce Wayne. He has that play boy persona and tends to throw money at people to make sure that persona stays but he has never had sex, he has never felt the need or want to.

Bruce and Clark finnaly confess to each other and they are out on date that is getting a little steamy. They go back to Bruce's house and are making out. This Bruce is okay with this he has done plenty of times with Oliver, it was somthing he like doing with friends that he was particlly close with. But then Clark starts getting a little more frisky and Bruce just folds. He starts getting awkward and blushing like a school girl. He starts to interanly panic, should he be more turned on right now? Should he also be touching Clark? Sure he's gotten a little turned on sometimes but he has never felt the erge to finish the job or realy do anything about it.

Even when he had met Clark seeing um in the tight superman suit or just in his casual work attire that made him so damn cute. Bruce never really felt turned on enough to do something about it. This was part of the reason why it took him so long to come to terms that he did in fact love Clark. Socity had it ingraied to him that if he didn't want to have sex with the person he loves (Romanticly) Then he truely didn't love them.

Even now with Clarks hand travling down his chest plaming his half hard cock. He wasn't overly turned on. He loved every second of this but he loved it becuase he was with Clark and they where touching not because he was going to have sex with him. Bruce loved cuddles and just being close to Clark.

Clark picks up something is wrong with his boyfriend and asks Bruce if everything is ok. Bruce bashfully confesses his true thoughts and feelings about sex and being pshyical with Clark. To which Clark asks Bruce if he is asexual. Being the logical fuck he is Bruce then googles this and spends the next 2 hours resurching asexuality and states that yes he gets turned by sertant things but that is boiled down to just being the bodys reaction to situations. He himself feels no sexual needs, but loves being in contact with his boyfriend.

They talk more about this and come to terms that make out session and stolen kisses where always ok, but sex was something that Bruce needed to be told about in advance so he could prepare what he was willing to do with Clark that day because as much as Bruce doesn't care for sex Clark does, but he also loves his nerdy boyfriend and respects his wants and needs.

It ends up working as Bruce bottoming for Clark a few times a month. This takes Clark a bit to get use to because being the caring lover he is, he feels bad that Bruce doesn't cum or take phsycal pleasure from these moments. Bruce has to remind him that he may not psychally get off but he loves feeling close to Clark and seeing Clark happy is an enjoyable expreaince on its own.

Other times Bruce will use the fuck machine that he made with a mold of his cock and just let it hammer down on Clark, while he praises his boyfriend. This doesn't happen to much since Clark isn't a big bottom but he does enjoy it from time to time.

Sometimes Clark will masterbate with Bruce in the room. Wether Bruce is wokring, making out with Clark or intructing Clark how to get off. What ever it may be this is Bruce's prefered option. He doesn't have to prep himself and gets to watch Clark wither under his gaze.

[namgyunation]

Li, OH MY GOD, when I saw Roh Jae-won say that Nam-Gyu just wants to be loved, I literally almost passed out because THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT WE’VE BEEN SAYING. We called it! He’s not some cold, evil villain—he’s just an angry, hurt man who lashes out because he doesn’t know how else to cope. 🥹 When I heard that, I was YELLING 'I CAN FIX HIM, Y’ALL.' Like, my baby just wants love, and I swear, I will personally fight the writers if they keep trying to make him out to be the ‘villain’ when all he really wants is a little validation and stability.

Honestly, after hearing that interview, I feel like I need to reread everything we’ve analyzed about him because we were kind of on point. It makes me want to dig even deeper into his character, especially knowing that his actor sees him the same way we do. We always knew he wasn’t just some ‘born evil’ antagonist—it’s all in the little details. The way he laughs in the background when Player 007 gets scolded, how he’s all smiles with Thanos when they talk to Player 333 about losing money, the fact that his first instinct after the first game was to check on Thanos before even knowing about the drugs—like, if he was just using him, why would that be his reaction? That moment alone proves so much. I really think he admired Thanos, maybe even saw him as someone stronger, someone to follow. The way he clings to him feels less like manipulation and more like desperately seeking validation, like he doesn’t know how to navigate life without attaching himself to someone more confident than him.

And the food scene??? That moment alone disproves that says he’s emotionally cold. He literally bounces a little, smiles, and even thanks the guard in a really playful tone. That’s not someone who’s dead inside. That’s someone who still finds joy in little things, who still feels. He acts like someone who never had stability and is clinging onto any small comfort he can get (please tell me if I’m too biased and I might interpret this wrong). The fact that the writers might not even explore that in S3 is literally criminal.

Also, I finally got to read your last fic last night, and let me tell you, I was THRIVING <333. You captured everything so well, and I was eating up every moment. And I also saw you mentioning me in that reply to the anon about my fic idea—THANK YOU. <3 I was so happy reading that! Without any pressure at all, I cannot wait to see what you’re working on. I already know it’s going to be incredible. ☁️

P.S. I tried to attach a TikTok edit here but it showed an error😭 dunno if the message was sent but if you see two just so you know why💀(thank god I wrote this in my notes ahahaha)

HIIIII!!!! ☁️ <333

and RIGHTTT that interview made me so happy. i know that it's just a small detail, and it likely won't ever be expanded on in the show (i don't expect them to), but it makes me happy knowing that rjw gave us some sort of insight into who nam-gyu is as a person outside of the show and there's something to shut down the fact that ppl think he's completely heartless and insane and dgaf about other ppl. trying to keep my nam-gyu bias in check rn when i'm talking about him and not woobify him or try too hard to make him out to be deeper than he is bc i'm NOT trying to do that, even tho i'm really happy for rjw's statement supporting the way we viewed him lol! i acknowledge he's just a side character... he's just my fav </3

he most definitely is not the deepest character when compared to a lot of other characters, nor do i think he will be explored much in canon. but at the end of the day, we know that that's just a normal ass dude in a desperate situation with a lot of issues that wants to be cared for and loved just like any other person in the world

he's mean as fuck and difficult to be around, but he's not a heartless villain with no humanity. he's not a good person, either, by any means. he did and said a lot of horrible shit, but it's the games that drove him to kill. the drugs, the desperation, the fear.

no one in the games is there without having been pushed to the absolute edge first, to the point that they're willing to gamble their life away for the chance of relieving their debts. naturally, people that desperate are gonna do some horrible, desperate things.

like bruhh gi-hun's always talking about how the games prey on vulnerable ppl and change them, driving them to do things they likely would've never ever done in their life in the name of money and the promise of relief from whatever horrible shit was going on in their lives before </3

the whole point of the show is that the players, even the ones that kill—and even the guards—aren't villians (though obviously there's some gray area here, seeing the guards that were threatening no-eul. not gonna get into it but yk what i mean when i say the guards aren't all villains, just more desperate ppl dealing with their own shit), at least from what we see from no-eul's situation. the actual villains are the filthy rich VIPs who set up the games for entertainment and find enjoyment in watching desperate, working class ppl kill each other for money. they view these people as expendable and even bet on them for fun.

the players are all ordinary people put into a desperate situation where they genuinely believe that potentially dying in the pursuit of money is a better fate than whatever tf they got going on outside!!! obviously, nam-gyu was one of those ppl! NOT excusing his actions. he's not a good person, but he's still a person that did what he did because he was pushed to the edge and in a horrible situation, just like everyone else.

also with thanos, i made this post on how i viewed them, and i agree! their relationship really showed that nam-gyu's lowkey just a loser who wants validation, recognition, to be seen as cool, and a friend, lmao. makes sense with the fact that rjw thinks he's been disrespected his whole life and constantly feels the need to prove himself and feel 'special', but he can't do it. i could see him outside the games being a lonely loser riddled with insecurity, rather than the heartless monster or even 'serial killer' that i see ppl envisioning him to be

in the subtle ways he acts in the show: trying to come off as tougher, more confident, and more sure of himself than he really is, how insecure and easily bruised he is, and just how pathetic and desperate he is for a connection with thanos (someone who couldn't even get his name right or treat him with respect), it's clear that there's a little more to him than "the thanos-obsessed guy that did drugs and went crazy"

also yeah the food scene! and i wanna add and talk about the pentathlon scene, too. though the food scene was brief, i was like aw :) he is capable of being polite and like. fucking normal, lmao.

one of my favorite nam-gyu scenes (or just scene in general) was the montage where everyone was going and cheering for each other in the pentathlon!!!! i forget the specific interview, but hdh talked about that scene and how he really liked it since it was a nice break in the tense environment of the games and acted to show everyone's humanity.

for that moment, it's not the players competing against each other for money. they're all working together and cheering each other on. they WANT each other to win. even in-ho was cheering, and hdh said his emotions there were genuine.

i really liked this scene because everyoneee, even nam-gyu and thanos, was cheering and going crazy for the other players, despite the two of them being the clear antagonists among the group. it's such a small scene, but it's a nice little moment to remind you of everyone's humanity, even those that have done / will go on to do horrible things. that at the heart of it, these people don't want each other to die. they want the money that'll save them from their situation, which unfortunately, is attached to people dying for the VIPs' entertainment.

also including pics and indenting this shit bc i love it so much

in short, YAYYYYY nam-gyu!!!!! i'm taking the details we were given and running with them to craft my own backstory for him if we're not gonna be getting shit lmao

also i'm so glad you enjoyed my latest fic haha <3 i enjoyed writing something a little more lighthearted. and i'm slowly chipping away at your rq! i'm having a lot of fun with it so far :) i really hope i can get it done within this week!

and unfortunately the tiktok link didn't show up </3 maybe you can try sending it through my submission box?? i don't know how tf tumblr works when it comes to sending links, but it might work better there (i'll go fix my submission box after posting this, and hopefully it lets you)

edit: also little side note. idk if you've watched daily dose of sunshine, but rjw saying that if nam-gyu were to meet da-eun—the sweet nurse from the show—all he'd want is to be loved by her.... :/ that shit was kind of sweet i'm ngl, and bc it's rjw that said that, it's basically canon to me that he would fall in love with someone like her. my cross-franchise crackship now, idgafffffff!

[mina-org]

Now playing art deco

yandere!mafia!141 x reader

likes n reblogs are really appreciated but comments steal my heart frfr

this is like a context post to the other fics coming out!

warning: yandere, stalking, John is a lil misgyonist, all of them are creeps bc this is yandere mafia au, I wouldnt say dead dove but theres stalking and panty stealing and like alluding to murder or disappearing people

word count: 2308

୨୧ What do you once you're trained by the SAS and then abandoned by the military? Years of your life given away, everything you worked towards thrown away. Unable to settle back into who they were before the military they continue into a different career path, one that still utilises violence and timing.

୨୧ After a black ops mission goes south, Task Force 141 are announced MIA, by the very same man who gave them false information hoping to tie up loose ends. Although months and months stuck in Siberia they grew closer as a team and what was once a healthy disrespect for authority turns into a deep, profound hatred. As those seeds of hatred bloom into budding revenge plots they one by one become completely disillusioned with the cause they had dedicated their life to.

୨୧ Simon was the first, he began to snap at the others, annoyed that their hope lingered on. They were supposed to die in that mission and when they weren’t, they were left to freeze to death, they couldn’t trust anyone who wasn't in the tent with them, right then and there. People who you know can hurt you most after all

୨୧ John is second, he had doubts all before Simon but held on to hope, General Shepard had a hand in promoting him to a captain 10 years ago, worked together so often. Simon snapping, the constant freezing temperature and slowly watching his men start to fade, he snapped too. He wasn't just a loose end was? His team definitely weren't loose ends to be tied up in some bullshit suicide mission. John was going to survive this, as would his boys and they’d get back at those who failed them, General Shepard set this up but so many turned around, pretending not to see anything.

୨୧ Kyle and Johnny lost faith as John and Simon go on their rants, they couldn't ignore the truth laid out so clearly. They know where their loyalties lie now, with each other.

୨୧ They couldn't go back to the SAS or any military, they were on their own. Luckily John had money and money talked, his presence also  commanded respect and they had all seen how people ran these organisations. After a recent clamp down on crime back home they were greeted with a power vacuum.

୨୧ London was ripe for the taking and after London? They were going after shepard. 

John Price

୨୧ The Captain who falls for a cafe worker.

୨୧ Possessive and jealous. You really have no idea the effect you have on him do you? Or the rest of your coworkers and customers. His blue eyes filled with an undeniable lust for you, but you never picked up on it. Or the lust that lingering in the eyes of others. He often crosses the line of the boss, bringing you flowers, clothes, those pretty hair clips you wear, even allowing false nails, paying for them when you complain about the recent price increase. You are always so thankful, pretty eyelashes batting, but it didn’t belong to him, yet anyway. You gave them to everyone, never suspicious of what their intentions are. The little touches but not being able to indulge in you yet, tortuous. The lives he’s taken in your name, not too long a list yet but long enough to scare you. You're the reason his cafe has such a high turnover of staff, someone is a little too touchy and john stops putting them on the schedule. All the people you worked with before john took over management were long gone and now people assumed the two of you were dating. Dove. Doll. Love. Petal. Pet You should have told him to stop when he started but you didn't and it wouldn’t have changed anything anyway. He kept you behind after work praising you for work you didn't do, when you opened the store in the early hours of the morning the surprise feeling of someone grabbing your wrist and pulling you into their chest has startled you awake better than any coffee could. You don't notice how his grip tightens ever so slightly around you as your new coworker asks a question, you don't see the death stare either.

୨୧ Delusional. John adores you. The lonely longing and heavenly yearning he felt was the most addicting feeling. You gave him so many smiles, always found yourself bent down giving him a little show he was so grateful for and he never shied away from showing it through tips or pay raises that only you received. John wanted you to know he was a provider, just spread those pretty legs for him and never worry about the cafe or your silly degree again. Your brown sugar and vanilla scent danced on his tongue and haunting his dreams, he imagined you as the perfect homemaker, hopefully you’d be round with his babies by spring, twins ran in his family ya know? 

Simon Riley

୨୧ The Enforcer who falls for a fellow mafia member

୨୧  Stalker. You start to feel something wrong, so wrong. A strong chill pressing down on you, lingering around you, seemingly scaring people away. The chill was always there, seemingly haunting you. Ghost had been hunting, no, watching you for a while, you had popped onto his radar a while ago, Gaz knew you as a friend of a friend, someone who had a knack for creating false documents and getting into systems you have no business being in. A skill set that John needed. The organisation was young, still in their infancy  and they were able to dominate London in a short time but they were still nowhere near their goal and each day General Shepard’s own paranoia sent him further into hiding. They needed access to military files and you would get them there, they had time, enough money to make anyone crack and of course, Simon. a silent, foreboding man. He never spoke to you, just watched as you spoke to his boss. He was standing by the door, so you wouldn't be disturbed, Price explained but you knew the truth, he was standing there so Price got the answer he wanted and would stand between you and freedom until he did. Price didn’t care you had moved on from that part of your life, he assured you the boys in blue were the least of your worries if you didn’t take the deal. 

୨୧ Possessive. You start working for them, you were pliable, in over your head with them, you never said no to Price’s requests, just told him that it would take some time and he was okay with that, he knew you wanted simon away from you as soon as possible and that you wouldn't prolong the tasks. You’d get to their office at 8am and finish at 4. It was almost like a regular job. Ghost still haunted you, keeping you on task and you’d tell him your progress so he could report back to Price. He could tell you didnt like him, or price, making you quit your precious job and now spending your day in a sickening silence. Simon felt like he knew you, imagining your company on the battlefields of his past life and right now all he could do is enjoy your company during the work day and lurk in the shadows of your flat. He hated you, he saw you everywhere, in the petals of flowers, the dainty chains that hung around the neck of rich patrons, delicate feathers that somehow always fall from the sky when you cross his mind. You were so gentle, you’d never survive in this world without him.

୨୧ Obsessive. You somehow made him envious of euthanised dogs. You were so unaware of how much your presence lingers, even in a room, buildings, on him. You infected the air he breathed and he was sick of it, so sick of it. He wanted you out of his head but he feared that the part of you that linger so persistently would only be banished by his own death and he had no time for that.

Johnny

୨୧ The weapon supplier who falls for a stripper

୨୧ Stalker. Weapons, drugs, hell johnny was pretty sure he could get his hands on exotic animals, that wasn't really necessary and would bring some unwanted attention to the young organisation, they had dealt with this before, johnny knew if they gloated, created too much of a splash and the law would come down, sink your rotten roots into local law enforcement, politicians and businesses? A much harder root to pull out. He doesn’t need to be at the club but Ghost used to be there more often than not and he got to be surrounded by beautiful people and great drinks. After nearly losing his dick in the freezing temperatures of Siberia this place seemed like heaven. And seeing you? Johnny knew he was ruined.

୨୧ Manipulative. Johnny is pulling strings. Price doesn’t care too much, you're an attraction and a popular one but your appearances are dwindling and doesn't Johnny deserve to be rewarded for his loyalty and hard work? So when the bouncer you got too touchy with disappears he doesn’t so much as send a bad look his way. Price would do the same, he doesn't want his boys to grow the same resentment he grew, if a pretty little thing helps johnny who is he to stand in the way of young love? Hell, he could do worse. Price is almost impressed with how long it’s taken Johnny. he’s been lying in wait for what? A year now. His jaws wide open, waiting to snap around his prey.

୨୧ Invasive, He hears the sigh of his name slips past your lips, and it’s like music to his ears. He wants to hear more. No, he’s desperate for more, spamming the tip button and suddenly he has all your attention. Johnny knows it’s wrong but the website is public and you don’t have to know that pyromaniac.johnny is also the guy lurking at the strip club. Or that same man is currently hunting for a dirty pair of your panties in your washing basket, just a room away as you put on a ridiculously long video to sleep too. You won’t need that once you're with Johnny, he’ll chat your ear off.

Kyle Garrick

୨୧ The rookie who falls for a love that he missed out on

୨୧ Stalker and obsessive. There was something different about you, something even more different about kyle. You had written it off as him not knowing how to act after he rejected you. Normally, Kyle is pretty outgoing, loud, and always able to capture your attention. Now his once glowing golden presence has rusted and your eyes wander elsewhere. He started following you everywhere, it was his turn to be a lovesick puppy. You kept him going after being stuck in the hellish cold so long, your image warmed him, he imagined coming home and you fawning over him once again. And he came back to you, only you didn’t want him anymore. He was eager to retract his rejection and skip into a nice little marriage with you. But you needed space, and then actively avoided him. He had requested your phone to be tapped, find out how you really felt about him but you didn’t talk about him over the phone, eavesdropped but nothing, checked your diary and nothing, apart from not letting your heart get broken by the same hands twice but even then his name wasn't written down.

୨୧ Jealous. Kyle wasn’t used to this. Made his blood boil, watching you make new friends, go on dates. You didn't revolve around him anymore. Kyle asked to be stationed at your uni, explaining it away as a breeding ground for new recruits and a massive customer base, after all who took more drugs than uni students? After a week he had recruited one of your shared mates, Brooks and he was useful, got a hold of the ropes quick. Kyle and Brooks served together briefly and the military had left a bitter taste in his mouth as well, he felt abandoned when he went into a planned terrorist attack, that everyone knew about, unarmed and was left with life changing injuries. You stayed in the studio flats with other mature students and he had to say the security was lacking, him and Johnny were in there for two hours setting up cameras and no one even asked what they were doing, those false ID cards for nothing. Johnny notices Kyle’s quietness as of late, as do John and Simon. John knows how he feels, coming home to someone who’s moved on, Kyle had dreamt of you for three years and you had spent that time moving on. They all felt for him, Kyle had never been rejected like this, his life before all this shit dangled in front of him, you dangled in front of him and the hurt nearly suffocated him. Kyle knows its wrong and he wants you to be happy, happy with him, so he starts sabotaging any chance you may have with other people, rumours  spread across the uni campus as if its a secondary school, he’ll hears you cry on the phone and your confidence dip lower and lower, until Kyle can swoop in and save you, he would wrap you in his arms and tell you how you wouldn’t need to worry about impressing anyone else. Expect you don’t give a shit, you're too busy getting your masters. Kyle’s shocked about how much you changed and now that lovesick look appears occasionally paired with you singing praises, but never given to him.

[yearsbecomingcool]

meet the parents | daniel markowitz

donate to gaza here | masterlist

pairing | daniel markowitz x f!reader

synopsis | after 3 months of dating daniel finally introduces you to his parents and invites you to spend the eighth night of hanukkah with his family.

warnings | f!reader, jewish!reader, fluff.

word count | 4.4k

a/n | i wanna give a huge thank you to @kawaii1kitten for reading over this for me to make sure everything was accurate, it meant so much for someone to offer up their time like that and it was greatly appreciated. i got this request back at the end of january but have been incredibly busy since then (21st birthday, trying to get my license, new season of yellowjackets, writing a 7.6k word fic about jason from hell of a summer that you should all read…) but i did also take some time to research hanukkah for this fic. if anything is falsely represented or you think could be portrayed differently please let me know and i can fix any mistakes made! thank you so much for the request and hopefully it came out to your liking. also thank you to @joeloverture as always for reading over this and giving me input!!

taglist | @snazzynacho

You had been dating Danny for three months and somehow still hadn’t met his family, it wasn’t the most unusual thing in the world but you couldn’t help but feel a little suspicious. You would always hang out at your house, never at his. He always made an excuse about a messy room or someone working from home that day and you were beginning to feel a bit fed up with it. Today he was picking you up for a date, a trip to the movies. You heard his horn go off and ran outside, hopping into the passenger seat. You lean over and give him a quick peck, “You look cute today, scruffy, but cute.” You caress his cheek, looking at him lovingly.

He blushes, leaning into your touch like a cat. “So you don’t want me to shave?”

“Not yet…I’ll be generous and give you another week,” you tease, pinching the pale flesh of his cheek between your thumb and forefinger. He giggles and pulls away from you, he backs out of your driveway and starts to head towards the theater. 

You could save your questioning till after the movie, make it easier on both of you, but you’ve never been known to choose the easy route. You decide to come right out with it, “Why haven’t you introduced me to your family yet?”

He coughs nervously, “W-What?”

“Your family. You haven’t introduced me to them at all, you haven’t even brought me over to your house. We always just go to mine. There has to be a reason, so tell me Danny, what is it?”

His face grows hot and he swallows nervously. “I-It just hasn’t been the right time…they’re always busy. Y’know…I just…”

“You hardly talk about any of them besides your grandma, who sounds lovely by the way. But it just feels weird, if you have a bad relationship with them I’ll drop it but I’m just curious about your family. It feels like you’re hiding me from them and vice versa,” you explain.

He sighs, “My parents are just…a lot, okay? They still treat me like I’m a kid, hell my mom still has Life-360 installed on my phone.”

You giggle, “Were you a bad kid in high school or something?”

He laughs, “The furthest from it actually. I hardly went out, never went to parties, never did drugs. I was a good kid, my parents just…they’re intense and I know they care but they don’t really treat me like an adult yet. I didn’t want to scare you away or have you think I’m some Norman Bates mommy’s boy, I just want you to like me.”

“I already like you, dork. Do you think I’d be going out with you for three months if I didn’t like you? I’m certainly not dating you for your car.”

“But you could be dating me for my money,” he jokes.

“I’m practically your sugar mommy, mr. unemployed, I don’t wanna hear it.” 

“Okay…okay, I get it, you do actually like me. But are you sure you wanna meet my parents?”

“Yes! C’mon, let them get the embarrassing stage out of the way already. I’ll come over and bring them some nice wine and nod politely while they show me baby pictures and tell me embarrassing stories about you from your childhood. Doesn’t that sound nice?” You’re trying your hardest to convince him.

“It sounds better without them embarrassing me but I guess it could be worse…why don’t you come over for the final night of Hanukkah, it’s the one day this week where both my parents are off work so they won’t be super stressed or anything. We’re doing it at my grandmas so you’ll get to meet her too,” he suggests, finally giving in.

“I finally get to meet the famous Thelma Post you’ve been telling me about!” You celebrate.

“I’ve told her all about you too, she’s been asking when she can meet you.” He starts to poorly imitate his grandma, “Danny I’ll have one foot in the grave before you bring her over to see me!” You both burst into laughter at his imitation. “Don’t tell her I did that…please…”

You hold your pinky up, “Pinky promise.”

It’s the eighth day of Hanukkah and Daniel had come over to your place to help you cook, he insisted that you didn’t need to bring anything but you were determined to make a good impression. He’d been here for a few hours helping you make sufganiyot, normally his mom would make some but she was more than happy to leave that task up to you once you’d offered. You’d already made the filing the night before, letting it sit in the fridge for a few hours. Danny had been eyeing it as soon as he saw it in the fridge. Once you were done preparing the sufganiyot you’d piped some onto his finger, letting him finally have a taste. He sucks the cream off his finger and moans at the taste, “Fuck this is good. My mom is gonna have one bite of this and ask when I’m putting a ring on your finger, I swear.” 

“And what are you gonna tell her?” You tease, placing a hand on the counter and leaning against it, trying to look seductive.

“That I need an actual job before I can even think of walking into a jewelry store.” 

You roll your eyes and he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you into him to give you a soft kiss. He looks a bit silly, wearing the apron you’d bought him when you’d gone grocery shopping the other day. It had a stupid little slogan that made you cringe on it and you knew it’d be perfect for him. When he’d arrived you held it up for him and he rolled his eyes. “For me?” He teases, holding his hand up to his mouth. You smacked him with a dish towel. 

While you went to get cleaned up and changed for the party Danny lounged on the small couch in your living room, flicking through the channels. He was grateful the SY-FY channel was still playing shitty horror movies this time of year. He’d gotten about halfway through Sharknado when you came out into the living room ready to go. You’d done natural makeup, some soft smoked out eyeliner and some lip gloss. You were dressed casual but cute, wearing a dark blue sweater and some black jeans. Danny sits up from the couch and smiles as his eyes rake over you, “You look great.”

“You’re so sweet to me, Danny. C’mere.” You outstretch your hand to him, pulling him up from the couch and into your arms to give him a soft kiss on the cheek. He grabs the wine off the counter and you grab your tray of sufganiyot and he opens the front door for you, locking it up before opening the passenger door for you. As you sit in the car on the way to his grandma's condo your knee bounces up and down, a nervous tick that you’ve had for years. Danny notices and places his hand on your thigh.

“It’s gonna be okay, I promise. I should be freaking out more than you, I have no idea what  embarrassing shit they’re gonna tell you tonight!” 

“I really hope they have a whole scrapbook for me to look at. I wanna see every embarrassing school photo, your awkward prom pictures, your cute little baby pictures.”

He groans, “Your parents didn’t show me any of that for you though!”

You laugh, “Uh yeah because I told them I’d never come back home again if they did.”

“You’re mean.”

“I’m not mean…I just know how to get what I want.”

He narrows his eyes but keeps them on the road, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Your hands are trembling when you get to his grandma's condo, you knew you’d be nervous you just didn’t know you’d be this nervous. “Do you think they’ll like me?”

He chuckles and parks the car, “They’ll love you. You have your shit together, you’re beautiful, you’ve helped me get my shit together I’m pretty sure that’s everything they want in a woman for me.” 

“And if they somehow don’t like me?”

“Then I’m staying with you anyway, I don’t care what they think. I know they’re gonna love you and I know for a fact that my grandma is gonna love you. Before the night is over she’ll be shoving her phone in my hand and demanding I friend you on Facebook for her.” He smiles at you like you’re the only girl he’s ever loved, he means every word he says, he’s not just trying to make you feel better.

“The only approval I need is yours and Thelmas.” He laughs at your joke and leans across the console to kiss you. He cups your face gently. When you pull away he’s smiling like a schoolboy.

Your face contorts in confusion, “What?”

“I just…” He runs his hand through his hair, “I really like you. I’m happy we’re doing this.”

You feel like a lovesick teenager, “Me too.”

Daniel goes around and opens your door, bowing his head as you step out of the car. “You’re such a nerd, you know that, right?”

He smiles at you playfully, “Are you gonna bully me in front of my parents? I don’t think they’ll like that too much. My grandma especially won’t.” 

“Well shit I can’t let Thelma down…”

“Exactly, so be nice!” He kisses your cheek and leads you to the door. He knocks quickly before wrapping his arm around your shoulder. You rest your head against his shoulder as you wait for his parents to open the door. You hear rustling and suddenly the door opens. His mom is standing there with a huge smile on her face. At first glance she doesn’t look much like him, she’s got dark brown hair cut into a neat bob and light green eyes. When she smiles that’s when you see the resemblance. Her tortoiseshell glasses pair nicely with her tan sweater and brown pants. 

“It’s so good to see you two! Come in, come in!” She exclaims, moving aside for the two of you to come in. You follow Daniel inside and kick off your shoes by the door before going into the kitchen to put your sufganiyot down on the counter. There’s already a few dishes sitting out and ready to go. Latkes with a small dish of sour cream sat next to them, fried bimuelos with honey drizzled over top, and some brisket. His mom, Gail, hugs you like she’s known you her whole life. 

“Danny has told us so much about you, I was wondering when he would finally introduce you,” she says, nudging him playfully with her elbow. He looks down at the floor bashfully.

“I guess I didn’t realize everyone was so…eager to meet.”

“Well with how you talked about her we all wanted to finally see the lovely girl. How are you?” His father, Alan, comes up behind Danny and outstretches his hand to you. You shake his hand and smile politely. 

“I’m great, Danny takes the best care of me. You’ve raised a wonderful son.”

Daniel looks down blushing again, he does this every time you praise him. It’s something he’ll never get used to. 

You take a second to look around the room, her kitchen reminds you so much of your grandma’s house. The only word you can think of for it is cozy. She has an array of plants all over the kitchen, some are sat on the windowsill above the sink. A few of the bigger ones sit on a white metal shelf populated by some cutesy glassware and a couple cookbooks. You feel right at home. You grab the wine from Daniel and present it to his parents, “I wasn’t sure what kind you would like so I hope this is okay.”

They take the bottle and inspect it, “It’s perfect.”

His parents thank you and bring you into the small tv nook where Thelma is sitting comfortably on the family's couch. You marvel at the collection of books she’s collected over her lifetime. They sit cozily on her built-in shelves, a modest CRT TV sits at the center. On each side of the couch sits more bookshelves. You can imagine yourself curled up on her orange and white pinstripe couch spending your days working through her collection.  “Grandma, there’s someone I’d like for you to meet.” She turns and smiles as she sees you. She’s quick to get to her feet, walking towards you happily. “Oh honey! Finally! I thought we’d never get to meet at this rate, ah, look at you! Danny you’ve always had good taste but she’s got to be my favorite! Oh just look at her, Danny you make such a cute couple.” Now it’s your turn to blush as Thelma gushes over you. She holds your hands in hers and smiles at you warmly.

“You’re too kind…Danny has said so much about you. I think he’s been hiding me away so I don’t become your new best friend,” you joke, helping Daniel lead her to the front of the house. The house is set up a bit strangely, her main living room is quite spacious, and a bar sits behind one of the floral couches. It’s unused, now displaying various family photos. There’s even more books on more beautiful shelves, you wonder if she’s read them all.

Thelma playfully swats at Daniel's arm, “Have you been hiding her? I always could do with more friends. You know that, Danny.” You admire their menorah as it sits on a white tray on a small table in front of the window, it’s a beautiful gold color, made of brass. It was his parents' wedding gift. A blue table runner sits beneath it.

He giggles, “Can you blame me for wanting to keep her to myself?” The three of you stand together, his parents on either side. 

You watch as his father loads the candles, their matchbook sits on the tray next to the menorah. You watch as his father strikes the match and lights the shamash and begins to recite the blessings. “Baruch Atah Adonai Eloheinu Melech HaOlam, asher kidshanu b’mitzvotav v’tzivanu l’hadlik ner shel Hanukkah. Baruch Atah Adonai Eloheinu Melech HaOlam, she’asah nisim l’avoteinu, b’yamim haheim bazman hazeh.” Once he’s finished reciting the blessings he lights each candle from left to right and puts the shamash at its place in the center. It makes you think of past Hanukkah celebrations you’d spent with your family, it’s the first year you’re not spending it with them. You have a feeling you can convince Daniel to come to yours next year.

You all head to the kitchen and grab a plate and start to grab your food, you load your plate up happily.

Daniel pours you each a glass of wine, Thelma has water instead. The table is small which makes things a bit cramped but you make it work, you and Daniel sitting close enough that your elbows knock occasionally.

“Was your family alright with you missing out on celebrating with them this year?” Thelma asks as she sips from her glass.

“They understood, they’d like Danny to come to ours next year for a night. They really loved him when they met him.” Daniel squeezes your hand softly.

“Oh of course! Maybe we could all get together next year, have a little party!” She suggests.

“That sounds perfect. I’m sure they’d love to.” 

As you begin to dig into your food you look over at Gail with a sly smirk. “So…what was Danny like as a kid?”Daniel chokes on his wine, his eyes going wide. He didn’t expect you to start asking about this as soon as dinner started.

Gail smiles knowingly at Daniel, she knows just how badly she’s about to embarrass him and she’s going to cherish this moment for as long as it lasts. “Oh he was just precious. Such a sweet smiley little boy,” she takes a sip of her wine, “but he was so shy. I remember on his first day of Kindergarten he was so scared, he wouldn’t let go of my leg. Poor thing…”

“Aww Danny…I was a shy kid too. Maybe not that shy but it took me a while to grow out of it. I remember sitting at a table with a group of other shy kids in English class and we were all supposed to do some project together and I had to pull myself out of my shell for it because none of them wanted to,” you laugh.

“That sounds like Danny. Y’know there was this shy boy in his class when he was younger,” she turns to face Daniel, “Wendy Horowitz’ son, do you remember him?”

Daniel nods. He has no clue who she’s talking about.

“Anyway, he got hooked on Don Julio and he’s been in and out of rehabs ever since. Always made me worried for Danny, you never know what the quiet ones are doing…”

“Well I don’t drink much, I’ll have one if I go out somewhere nice for dinner, but I’m usually the designated driver. Danny doesn’t really have much when we go out either.”

Gail rubs Daniel on the shoulder, “Oh you’re cutting back on the drinking? Good, see Alan she’s already a good influence, only 3 months in!”

Alan smiles, “You did get him to throw out that ratty old cardigan too.”

“There were too many holes for it to be considered wearable at that point. I bought him a nice new one to replace it.”

Daniel blushes, “The new one is softer…”

“He’s always worn his clothes till they were falling apart…I’d always fix them up so he could wear his favorites a bit longer,” Thelma says.

Daniel looks at her with nothing but love in his eyes and smiles,”And thank you for that. You’re why most of my favorite sweaters are still around.” 

Gail chuckles, a memory surfacing. “Do you remember that phase you had where you would only wear your Spider-Man costume? You were like what…six? You wore it everywhere! I remember you even demanded you wear it to school under your clothes.” Daniel's face turns bright red as the rest of you giggle.

“I uh, I think I do remember that,” he scratches the back of his neck nervously.

“That’s cute. I think I did the same with some princess dress my mom had got me.” As fun as it is to watch him squirm with embarrassment you still don’t want him to get too embarrassed. 

The rest of dinner is spent with Gail telling childhood stories about Daniel, most are just cute instead of embarrassing but once dinner is wrapped up is when the embarrassment really starts. Thelma is quick to lead you to her array of childhood photos of Daniel she has on display. You pick up each one, inspecting them closely as he looms over your shoulder, face bright red with embarrassment. “Do you really have to show her the middle school ones? Those are just…they’re bad…” He groans as he pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“Oh but Danny you were so cute! Wasn’t he?” Thelma asks, turning towards you.

You giggle and smile, “The cutest.”

“See! Not embarrassing!” 

Daniel groans and puts his hands over your eyes, he leans down to whisper in your ear, “I think you’ve seen enough.” It’s playful and cute. You giggle and lean back against him.

“I think I wanna see more actually-”

He’s quick to cover your mouth with one of his hands, “She doesn’t know what she’s saying. That wine must’ve been strong, right baby?” He moves his hand from your eyes to your chin, maneuvering your head to make you nod. “See? She’s all good on childhood pictures now, Grandma.”

You lick his palm and he yelps, pulling his hand away. “Don’t listen to him! Show me the worst ones!”

Thelma is doubling over in laughter at the two of you, it reminds her of when she had met her husband. “Oh I’ve got more, sweetheart. Don’t worry.” She heads over to the bookcase to start looking for her photo albums. 

Daniel leans down to whisper in your ear so softly that no one else can hear, “You’re so getting it later. You hear me?”

You giggle, “I’m sure I am, Danny…” He loves to talk a big game but hardly ever follows through. You know it’ll end in giggles and a makeout session on your couch. 

He helps Thelma bring over the photo albums, setting them down onto the coffee table before taking a seat next to you. “You better be nice to me about these.”

“Danny how bad could they be? Don’t be so dramatic, we were all dorky when we were younger.” You rub his shoulder comfortingly. You lean against his arm as he opens the first one. The first page is his mom holding him in the hospital, his tiny footprints next to the photo make you tear up a bit.

Thelma tells a small story with each photo, “He was such a smiley baby. The happiest in the family. I remember Gail called me one time to ask if it was normal for a baby to be so happy all the time,” she laughs, “she’s always been such a worrier…”

“You were adorable Danny, your smile is the same now y’know.”

He leans his head against yours, “Some things never change I guess.”

“I’m glad you’ve still got that sweet smile and all those beauty marks.”

He smiles and presses a kiss to your forehead as you continue to look through the photo albums. His face heats up with embarrassment as they reach the elementary school photos. He’s wearing silly graphic tees and missing teeth, new ones growing back into place. There’s photos of him playing video games, kindergarten and 5th grade graduations. Photos of him with childhood friends and peers, most of the names he can’t remember but he has a story for almost all of them. “He had a pet lizard! I begged my parents, and Grandma of course,” he nudges Thelma with his elbow, “for one too. But when I actually went over to his house and saw it in person it scared me so bad I never asked for another pet again!”

“What kind of lizard was it?” You ask curiously. 

“A bearded one, like that dinosaur in Jurassic Park that ate Nedry.”

Your eyes light up, “Ah! I can see why you’d be terrified now.”

He blushes bright red with embarrassment once the middle school pictures start coming up, awkward phases, bad haircuts, and plenty of embarrassing stories. It’s an awful time for everyone but it seemed particularly cringe inducing for Daniel. You and Thelma stifle laughter as he tries to defend his magician phase with his life.

“The girls were into it I swear!”

“Thelma, did you tell him that to make him feel better?” You ask, leaning forward to see her.

“I think I did…”

Daniel dramatically scoffs, feigning offense at her confession.

“Did you like try to pull a flower out from behind a girl's ear?” You joke.

His cheeks turn pink, “I-I…no…”

He’s a little less defensive over his high school photos, you can see him finding his style in every photo. He’s switched out his silly graphic tees for band t-shirts and cardigans, his cargo shorts for skinny jeans. It’s interesting to watch him figure out who he is through photos. You smile at the photos of him at concerts on his tiptoes trying to peer over the shoulders of the people in front of him. There’s ticket stubs from his favorites glued down next to the photos of him at each one. You can tell you would’ve been friends in high school, probably more considering how you ended up. He was your type to a tee. You could imagine asking him out to see whatever indie movie was playing at your local theatre, him slipping his headphones on you in a diner afterwards to show you his new favorite band. You feel a pang of sadness that you didn’t know him back then. You’re grateful to have him now. You cuddle up a bit closer to him as he gets to the final picture, it’s him on graduation day. His hair was grown out and combed back under his graduation cap. His favorite is the shot of Thelma and him together. He has his arm slung over his shoulder as he holds her close.

“Why don’t we take one of you two to add to the album?” Thelma suggests.

You smile and look at Daniel, trying to see how he feels. He’s smiling just as big as you are and he nods, getting up from the couch. “Where’s the camera?”

“It’s in my office on my desk, right by the computer,” Thelma explains. Once he’s walked off to retrieve the camera she leans close to you, taking your hand in hers. “You’re my favorite of the girls he’s ever brought over. Thank you for being so good to him…I think you’re what he needs.”

You feel tears begin to well up in your eyes, your lip quivering. You reach up to wipe your tears and nod, “I think he’s what I need to.” Thelma leans forward and hugs you tight, you pull away with Daniel comes back with the camera.

“Should I call dad to come take it?” He asks Thelma.

“Oh no, dear. This is the one technology I know how to use!” She gets up from the couch and takes the camera from Daniel, directing him to sit next to you. She continues directing the two of you, telling you how to pose. “Danny at least try to look like you love her! You’re so stiff!”

He chuckles and tries to relax, pulling you closer to him. You’re leaned against him, your head on his shoulder as he holds you close. You glance up at him for a second and hear the camera go off. “Oh, I wasn’t ready!”

Thelma smiles down at the photo, turning the camera back around for the two of you to look. It’s instantly your new favorite photo of the two of you. You’re cuddled up, gazing into each other's eyes. “I think it’s perfect, dear.”