#like he clearly realized he'd said the wrong thing to get me to keep the door open

[starstruckpurpledragon]

So my doorbell rang and I went to answer because I was hoping it was my new bookshelf being delivered.

It was not.

Pest company doing door to door. And I tried to very politely send him on his way, but he really wanted to give his spiel. So I answered one or two questions in ways that were basically 'i am happy with the company I already use and am entirely uninterested in changing companies.'

Did I just have a cricket wasp invasion? Yes. Did it clear up within four weeks of treating my attic? Also yes. They're not the cheapest option but not the most expensive either and they only do inside treatments when they're necessary, since their outdoor treatment is usually enough to keep the house protected. The wasp problem is honestly the first big issue I've had since switching to them many years ago - which considering I had an on again/off again ant problem before the switch and 0 ant problems in the... I dunno, eight years I've used this company... that's a pretty good track record TBH.

I'm not gonna say I didn't consider switching if the wasp problem didn't clear up or that I wasn't frustrated with their policies regarding going up into attics. But if I make the decision to switch companies, I'm not going to switch to a company that's sent someone to be pushy at my doorstep.

So this guy has already lost from the get go, but he did not help things by assuming I didn't already have a pest company. I get it, there's a month's worth of spider webbing build up on the eaves (the devil works hard but the spiders in my neighborhood work harder). And he claimed there were no traps out despite the two super obvious traps in the front flowerbeds if he'd bothered to look to his left or right like... at all. Dude was being very condescending for someone lacking observational skills.

At this point, he tries to get me to tell him how much I pay for my pest company having ignored what was already a polite invitation to go away now please (not in those exact words) so I was realizing subtle was. Not working.

Thus I told him no. He didn't need to know that, I didn't care if it wasn't 'privileged' information, it wasn't any of his business. I was busy and needed to go now.

His attempt to joke me into telling him something I'd already said no to having failed, he goes 'oh yeah, I've got a lot of other people to visit, but...' and I just cut him right off at the knees right there. Metaphorically, of course, no actual knees were maimed.

"Well, then I'll let you get to it. Have a good evening."

At that point he acknowledged he'd lost, mostly because I was already closing the door. He hopped on his Segway (or whatever that was) and left.

Anyway, the last time I had a door to door person come by, she accepted my first subtle not interested with grace and then asked if I minded giving advice on how to become a home owner because I was young, with my own home, and she and her husband were wanting out of their apartment into a house. That was a much nicer interaction and I'm glad that I gave off 'safe person to ask advice' from because that's just not stuff they teach in school anymore. (And she meant it too, as there was no further mention of what she was selling.)

But I really wish I had remembered to check my camera this time before opening the door because I could have avoided today's door to door guy interaction entirely instead of being greeted by disappointment over no bookcase and irritation over a pushy salesman trying (and failing) to bulldoze me.

[buckyalpine]

Just a fluffy little thought. A grumpy, moody, broody Bucky, moping and grumbling through the compound with a scowl on his face. He was restless and annoyed the whole jet ride home. He tosses his bags off to the side, throwing off his tactical gear without a care in the world and Sam and Nat are utterly baffled because the mission was a complete success. Bucky's plan worked perfectly, his strategies were what got them in and out, he'd even saved a group of civilians that were unexpected.

Why was he grumpier than usual?

Because something is not right.

Everyone gathers for dinner and he barely takes a bite. He's shifting his food around his a fork before getting up and sitting on the couch instead with his arms across his chest and shoulders tensed. No one breathes a word, letting him storm to himself. Except you. You'd noticed Bucky's less than pleasant attitude but it doesn't scare you and you felt bad seeing him sitting by himself clearly stewing over something.

Maybe you had a crush on the soldier too. Maybe.

"Hey" You give him a soft smile as you take a seat beside him, still giving him space, "You okay?"

He gives you a shrug in response but that was normal with Bucky. You'd check in again and if he still didn't want to talk, you'd leave him alone.

"What's wrong"

Usually his standard answer of telling people to fuck off was easy but not with you. Never with you. Not when you turn him into a pile of mush and fluff. Bucky's grumpy face turns more into a pout as he contemplates telling you what's been making him so mad.

"My tummy hurts" he mumbles and you have to hold every fiber of your body together to keep from melting into a puddle because he could have said he felt unwell. Stomach pain. Stomach ache.Felt sick. Felt off. He could have said absolutely any other variation of what he was feeling but no.

The poor, grumpy, angry soldier was huffy and puffy because of a tummy ache.

"I'm sorry bub" you coo, not even realizing what you'd called him,"What would make you feel better?" You ask but Bucky doesn't actually know the answer. When he usually felt queasy he'd just grit it out until it went away.

"When I was little, my ma would make me some soup" He wasn't sure if it actually cured anything but he remembered it always being the yummiest thing he'd tasted and the one thing that made him feel all better. "But that was for when I had a cold"

"What about for tummy aches" You asked, noting the way the soldiers cheeks turned pink, his fingers fidgeting with each other. Of course he knew what his ma would do for his little achy belly but it's not like you could help...

"Um, sometimes she'd tuck me in bed and then.."

"Then?" You cock your head in curiosity while Bucky's voice dies on his tongue.

"Then she'd rub my tummy till I went to sleep" He rushes out with a small voice while keeping his eyes trained on his hands. His eyes grow wide at the giggle you let out, worried he'd made a complete idiot of himself, what were you to do with that information, it's not like you'd-

"C'mere" You take his hand gently in yours, gauging his reaction before moving him to lay his head on your lap. Bucky's stomach is now a mess of butterflies and whatever was upsetting him, his muscles melting into Jello as soon as you'd touched him. "Is this okay?" Your hand rests closer to his hip than right on his stomach and Bucky is barely able to squeak out a yes along with a quick nod.

You hum, moving your hand to rub soft circles around his tummy, his firm muscles under making you giddy on the inside. You recollect your nerves, focused on soothing motions, your other hand moving to play with Bucky's hair. You card your fingers through his short chestnut locks, smiling at the way he closes his eyes, his breathing starting to slow, muscles releasing their tenison.

"Better?" You whisper, giggling to yourself at the deep purr he made in response, relaxing with your gentle ministrations. He rolls over, smushing his face against your stomach, far too relaxed to care. The soft snores that follow after let you know the remedy certainly worked. As soon as you move your hand away, he blindly reaches out, placing it right back where it belongs and going back to sleep immediately after, tummy ache all gone, flutterly little butterflies replacing them. He's already dreaming of all the ways he could return the favour.

Isn't he an absolute precious baby.

So cute.

Bonus scene:

Of course the team gawk at what they see; the grumpy soldier now happy as a clam on your lap.

"What's wrong with him?"

"Bucky's tummy hurts" You reply with a smile and honestly the answer sends everyone into chaos.

"Awww Buckyyyy"

"So that's why he was so grumpy. Should've known when he kept pouting everytime we had turbulence"

"AWWWW The winter soldier as a widdle tummy ache?" Sam coos, only to silence his cackles when Bucky's eyes shoot open, staring daggers at him. "Don't give me that look when you're curled up on y/n's lap like a cat"

"Does rubbing it help ya feel all better-oh fuck"

Bucky's glare sends everyone scrambling right out, the empty room leaving him all content again.

Yes.

Rubbing his tummy made him feel all better.

[luludeluluramblings]

Conner Kent's Obsession with Smalltown!Reader

A/N: I saw a few people liking the Superfam stuff and finally went nuts attempting this Conner bit. I tried. I tried so hard. I added dialogue. I'm used to the YJ Conner, but this is my attempt at Comic Conner. If he's OOC, oops. Yeet. (I attempted to research, I swear.) Might edit this some later.

A/N: I write Reader with an accent. One, cause that's how I talk. Two, cause I like it like 'dat.

A/N: I'm also almost done with Part Seven, but I'm adding dialogue to that too to make the breaking point a tad bit more impactful. I've never really written dialogue before.

Warnings: Slight Yandere themes. Romantic Yandere. (Very subtle.)

Conner’s run-ins with Reader always seemed to piss Tim off. Especially after Tim started researching into Reader. He would occasionally always beg Tim to invite Reader to hang out. And, he would find himself rejected every single time. Before it was probably due to Tim being dramatic. Now, he certain of this, it's because Tim dramatic and jealous overprotective.

On other occasions, he'd just by pass Tim, leaving him to his cases (and creeping) so hecould sneak and bother reader. They’re kinda cute, in his opinion. Of course they call him a big city boy and said he clearly lived off of his daddy’s money. Which was only kind of wrong. But, they way they said it made his a trail of heat crawl down his spine.

After some time had passed, he knew that Tim and the other members of the family were suspicious about him coming to the manor so much. He never tried to hide his reasons There was no point in hiding behind weak excuses. He respected the Bats too much to even think he could fool them. Plus, lying to the Bats was a good way to get stabbed with a kryptonite knife. Even though they had made it pretty clear that they disapproved of him coming around so often, He was still going to keep visiting. Could they really blame him? It wasn’t his fault he was enamored so easily. 

He kept his distance just a bit. Like he was silently (commanded) requested. He could tell he made the newest addition to the family a bit uncomfortable. And, he understood. The clone thing was kinda freaky after all.

Well, at first he had assumed it was because he was a clone. That would make any normal person feel a bit weird. But, then he heard them keep call him that nickname. City boy. The way it rolled off their tongue and how often it was said was clearly a sign. They weren’t bothered by the clone thing. They just didn’t like his personality. He could fix that. That wasn’t that hard. He was adaptable.

So when he approached them again, for the million time, he tried to play up the cool and collected act. Going as far as to emulate the Batman. Which, surprising made the ice break. When they laughed at him.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

"No, seriously why are you acting like that?" You're still giggling at how hard he was trying to play up the serious act. Cause that's all it was. You don't doubt he could genuinely be serious for a moment, but this wasn't one of those moments.

"I'm just letting you see a different side of me, is all." Conner replies, trying to keep it up even though he had been quickly caught.

"You mean the imaginary side, city boy? I didn't realize you liked to play pretend." Another teasing snort. God, how you needed that laugh.

"I'm not pretending."

"Yeah, you are."

"No, I'm not."

"Yeah."

"No."

"Yes, you are. Don't be lyin' to me now. Or, Imma start gettin' upset."

"Okay, okay... How could you tell?" He conceded after a moment. The way he scratched the back of his head suited him much more than that little Oscar performance he was putting on a few seconds prior.

"I'm observant." Comes the mock arrogant reply. It was hard to give him a cold shoulder when he just made you laugh so genuinely in the last few weeks.

"Oh, look who's playing pretend now." The snark on his tongue doesn't have any heat, but it does bring you some relief. A bit of much needed normalcy.

Maybe it's the fact that the loneliness has slowly crawled into your chest and burrowed it's self deep in that hollow part of you, but it's easy to let your guard down around him for once. You had noticed his efforts to get to know you before, and maybe you let those preconceived notions cloud your little head. But, there was no need for them anymore. The twinge of glee he sparked was enough to burn them away and make you pause before you would rebuild those walls of yours.

"Are you saying I'm not observant?"

"Yep."

"The audacity!" The outrage nothing more than a sham. A simple way to fill the air between them. Cause even if the talk was small, just the hint of it filled something in you. That didn't make your curiosity fade, however. "But, seriously, why are you impersonating Bruce? And in his own house, no less."

The brief silence that washes over you both has you already regretting this. Had it really so long since you've had a proper conversation that you were this out of practice?

When he finally speaks again, it is gives you relief and more regret.

"I just wanted to finally get your attention."

Well, doesn't that make you finally fit in with the rest of your family?

Your tongue brushes over your teeth in an attempt to get the lead coating that made your words weigh heavy in your mouth off of it.

"I'm sorry, Conner. I- I've been smallminded haven’t I?"

"No, I get it. The whole clone thing is freaky." He starts, a light flush on his cheeks. He wasn't expecting an apology, and especially one so soon and so heartfelt.

"Oh, yeah, that... Really it didn't have anything to do with it. I kinda just thought you were a typical concrete jungle flirt. Momma warned me about men like you." You try to hide your sheepishness by adding humor to your voice, praying he catches your sincerity under all the different layers.

He catches something, judging by the beaming smile Conner gives you.

"Really? I had hoped it wasn't, ya know, that."

"Nah, nah. It wasn't. Still, I am sorry." You assume silence is about to befall the pair of you again, but he doesn't let it happen.

"My family owns a farm out in Kansas, you know?" The cheeky grin on his face screams that he's going to be getting his revenge in the form of mild bullying.

"No!" The resounding smack of your palm hitting your forehead nearly echoes in the halls. "I feel even worse now."

"So much for being observant, little detective."

"I never claimed to be no detective. But, I might be more... oblivious then I initially implied..."

Now, it's Conner's turn to guffaw at you.

"The audacity."

"Don't you throw my words back at my. I can't handle it." You can't help by click your tongue. There's hardly any annoyance from your words. "I really misjudged you."

"It's fine! I figured you might still be adjusting to Gotham and the whole Wayne lifestyle. Tim mentioned you're from a pretty small town when I started bugging him about you." He's clearly playing up the charm, but you let it work on you.

"More like I'm still suffering from culture shock." Slowly, you can feel this conversation starting to shift to something deeper than surface level. Things that haven't been allowed into the open air start to ripple underneath.

And, he takes that chance to draw it out.

"Still?" Empathy mixing into his tone. Those icy blue eyes looking incredibly warm. You'd never really taken the time to look at him. Sure, you knew he was attractive. Hell, everyone that seemed to show up at the manor was attractive. But, now you were finally looking at him. Too focused were you in taking in his appearance for the first time, that you completely missed the way those eyes shined with opportunity and desperate want.

"Yeah, still. It's... different."

"Different as in the food's a little weird or different as in the people are a little weird?"

"It's all a little weird, and it's... kinda... lonely?" You can't help the wince. You really don't wanna trauma dump on someone who you had initially misjudged. He didn't deserve that.

But, as he moves closer you can't help it. That desolate part of you longing for comfort when you haven't had it in such a long time and the way he's giving you all this undivided attention when you can barely catch Alfred in the halls these days fills that acute craving in your gut.

"Lonely?" God, the concern in his voice doesn't make you want to cry, but it does make you want to choke

"I... I think it's not here that's different. I think it's me that's too different." The way he sucks a breath in after the words leave your mouth makes you want to backtrack immediately. "I'm so sorry. God damn, am I mess right now."

"No. No. No. You are fine." The reassuring words oddly sound more like a purr, but they capture your attention all the same. "I get it. I really really do."

Why does he have to give you such a disarming smile. He's practically beaming at you now. There's a festering tension blooming around them like spores.

"You are really not helping me fell less like a jerk to you now." The click of your tongue attempting to defuse the budding blooms.

"Hey, if you're feeling guilt... you could, maybe... let me take you out for dinner sometime? Just to make it up to me."

After a stunned moment of thought, you finally find the words to reply.

" Honestly, I'd-"

"CONNER!" Tim's sudden interruption sends the words crawling back down your throat.

"Tim." He calls back in a cool greeting, but he strangely doesn't step back from you. Which is nice. You haven't had anyone close to you other than Dick and a few of your remaining friends at Gotham Academy. And Damian, Cassandra, and Duke get a bit huffy, or in Damian's case murdery, when they are within an arms reach of you.

"Sorry, am I interrupting anything? Conner and I had plans for the day." Tim's pleasant voice sends a wave of unease over you. He's not staring at you when he speaks. Just Conner. It's annoying how he's ignoring you despite you being right. In. Front. Of. Him.

But, then he does finally look at you and his dark grey eyes soften ever so slightly. You're not too mad. Clearly he's exhausted, judging by the bruises under his eyes. There's still a slight reflection in them as he's gaze meets yours, despite how dry the appear. Probably from looking at a computer too much.

"You really shouldn't bother with this guy. He's not worth it." The words are clearly meant to be joking. Casual banter between two close friends. But, you can't help thinking they come off a bit strong.

Conner seems to bristle at them, but he does brush them off.

"That's right, we are hanging out today. Can you blame me for getting distracted, though?" That cocky smirk of his is back, and he actually touches your shoulder. It makes you feels warm, but like a prize at the same time.

All Tim seems to do in response is twitch, but giving nothing away. His grey eyes going steely as they drift to Conner's hand.

When the moment finally passes, Conner lets his hand fall. You can feel it grazing down your back as he pulls away. Slow, like he's trying to strike a match and light something inside you.

"I'll see you later, sweetheart. Just think about my offer and get back to me on it!" Conner calls out as Tim storms behind him. Both heading in the direction of the library.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

As soon as their in the Batcave, Conner can tell he probably pushed it too far. Not that he has any regrets. He finally got somewhere and confirmed all of his previous theories about Reader. They were so adorable apologizing to him, and so deliciously sweet about it too.

He should've realized Tim was watching them, though. Dude was a creep. He maybe his best friend, but he's still a damn creep.

As expected, the rest of the family is also giving him the patented Bat-glare when he sees them. But, as he stated, he has no regrets. He's not stupid enough to stick around, though. He saw Jason loading a suspicious looking green bullet into the chamber of his gun. And, while he knows Tim wouldn't kill him, he's not so sure about the rest of them.

He's confirmed what he's wanted, what he's already suspected. They're absolutely perfect for him and ripe and raw.

[emphistic]

𝐆𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊

𝐀/𝐍: thank you all for more than 505 followers (see what i did there with the song?) have this as a token of my gratitude (this is superr long overdue, mb you guys)

𝐖/𝐂: around 2500

“Why? Why, Sukuna? Why the hell did you not pull away?” You failed to keep your voice down.

“Baby, please. Trust me, she flung herself on me. I–”

“So you didn't push her off?”

Sukuna raked his fingers through his hair, clearly exasperated and struggling to find the words to answer you. “Look — the last time I did that I almost got arrested for assault. And guess what? You yelled at me for that, too. You said, ‘Why would you do that? You couldn't have just told her to get off?’ So really, what did you want me to do this time?”

You covered your mouth to stifle your sobs, at this point, your mascara was completely ruined, running down your cheeks. “Okay, okay, I get it. I'm wrong, you're right.”

But I crumble completely when you cry

Sukuna turned away from you, scratching his neck. Your mascara was smudged along your cheeks, your tears dampening your eyelashes. He couldn't bear seeing you like this, not when he was the cause. Was it cruel of him to say, to believe, to think, that you were most beautiful this way?

“That wasn't my point, and you know that. You know that damn well, sweetheart.” Sukuna said — after a moment of silence — and turned back to face you, albeit he hesitated before meeting your glossy eyes.

“Then what was it? What was it, Sukuna? Tell me. Enlighten me.” You frantically wiped away your tears as they fell, and though desperate as you were, you were still too slow.

“. . .” Sukuna stared down at you with a stoic expression painted on his face. His gaze remained unwavering, though yours flickered throughout the room, seemingly unable to face him properly. If he knew better, he would realize it was only because you would start bawling immediately after meeting his crimson eyes.

It seems like once again you've had to greet me with goodbye

“Fine!” You threw your arms up, utterly defeated. You had no time for Sukuna's games. “Be that way; go have fun with all your other girls!” You stomped away, but decided — in the moment — to turn around for a second just to flip the pink-haired man off. “Burn in Hell, Sukuna, for all I care. I don't want to see your stupid, stupid face ever again.”

Sukuna sighed, his eyes burned holes into the back of your dress as you left him standing there. Standing there with nothing but his thoughts, dreams, and regrets. Standing there in the club alleyway. The same club alleyway that you pulled him away to so you could yell at him.

But it didn't feel like the same club alleyway, because Something was missing. Something very dear to him — but he was no better than a man.

I'm always just about to go and spoil the surprise

He was no better than a man. He didn't have the courage. He didn't have the brains. He didn't have the wit. He didn't have the assets. He didn't have anything that he had had with you. Not anymore, at least.

Take my hands off of your eyes too soon

He didn't have anything, because you were his everything. You were his light. His match. His flame. He didn't know what his point was. He didn't know. He didn't know. Because alas, he was no better than just a man. A man helplessly in love — with you.

So what would a man — helplessly in love with you — do? Perhaps he would visit your favorite jewelry brand and buy you an exquisite necklace. Maybe he would stop by a florist's shop and get you flowers. Or he could get you a baked good from the local bakery you like so much. And so, Sukuna — possibly being the most indecisive man alive — did all three of those things.

He purchased you a glimmering diamond necklace, a bouquet made up of your favorite flowers, and a cake of your favorite flavor.

Now, Sukuna was never a nervous nor self-doubting man, that was until he met you. He gets butterflies at the thought of you, though he'd never admit that. What could he say? He loved your laugh, the way your eyes crinkle as you do, your smile, your habit of tucking your hair behind your ear, your meticulousness when choosing earrings to match your outfit, your eyes — especially when they appeared to almost be glittering, he loved everything about you. But most importantly. . . He loved you. And that is why he sits in the driver's seat of his car, with his head in his hands and his back hunched over in thought.

He messed up. He messed up bad. And now he had to clean up the mess.

Fifteen minutes prior, his younger twin brother — Yuuji — had given him a pep talk, hyping him up. Yuuji knew how much you had helped Sukuna. He remembered the way Sukuna appeared happier, as if 100 pounds had been lifted off his shoulders — not that he would have any trouble carrying that weight — when Sukuna came home from your first date together. Yuuji saw the difference in Sukuna from that day on. Yuuji saw, Yuuji heard, and Yuuji felt the difference.

Albeit the younger twin could be a bit . . . dull, at times, Yuuji knew that you were what Sukuna needed most. If you had affected Sukuna so greatly when you came into his life, just think about the effects that would take place if you two separated. Yuuji got chills just thinking of that, which was why he was so desperate for his older brother to just rip off the bandaid, set his ego aside, and make amends.

I'm going back to 505

Sukuna was going back. He was going back to you . . . even if it was the last thing he would do. He finally raised his head from his hands and started the car. He was going to see you, apologize and explain how stupid he was being, and he was going to give you all the gifts he purchased. If his words couldn't satisfy you, he was going to spend the rest of his life proving himself to you with his credit card.

If it's a seven hour flight or a forty-five minute drive

The drive to your apartment from his penthouse was only 3/4s of an hour, though it felt much longer as his dread grew and grew. It didn't matter how long, how far, how dangerous, the journey — he would always go back to his girl.

His girl.

That's what you were. That's what you are. That's what you will be — for as long as Sukuna lives. He would make sure of that.

The knife twists at the thought that I should fall short of the mark

But it didn't feel that way, certainly not when you opened the door with a frown on your face that only deepened as you immediately moved to close the door upon seeing the pink spikes of Sukuna’s hair. But he was already two steps ahead of you. He — already expecting that reaction — had quickly blocked you from closing the door by sticking his foot out between the door.

Frightened by the bite, though it's no harsher than the bark

“Sukuna. Didn't I tell you to never—!”

“Baby, please. Hear me out — for just a second.” Sukuna's lips were dry, his throat parched.

“Fine.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, he would've missed it if he was not as desperate as he was now.

Three days. It had been three days since you two had last spoken, in that damned alleyway. Three days of plain torture. Three days of sleepless nights. Three days without you. Three days of Hell.

God, he was so glad to hear your voice again; it was like music to his ears.

The middle of adventure, such a perfect place to start

You slowly pulled the door back and took a step backward, silently giving Sukuna your consent for him to enter. However, he didn't feel deserving of it, so he stayed in his position.

“Look, this is probably a waste of your time—”

“It is.”

He shoved the gifts into your hands.

“Oh? What's this?” You raised a brow, digging your hand through the bags to investigate, but Sukuna cleared his throat and you met his eyes.

“I want to apologize, for what I said and for how I acted. I'm really, really sorry. You know I'm not the best with these kinds of things, but, I really am. Believe me. And . . . I wasn't in the right state of mind, I was already a few drinks in — y’know that — and I know that's not an excuse but, I just. . . I'm sorry, okay? I haven't slept a wink since you left. And I was a fucking coward: I should've done this earlier but I didn't. So—please, forgive me.”

You didn't say anything, averting your gaze to the ground at your feet, and still processing his words. You mulled over what he had said in your head.

“Say something. Anything. Please.” Sukuna was so close to getting on his hands and knees that it was almost embarrassing.

“Sukuna, I don't know what to tell you. I believe you're sorry but I. . . I'm not ready to forgive you, not yet. It's just a lot, y’know? I mean, if you were in my shoes right now, you would feel the same way—”

“That's why I'm apologizing.” Sukuna cut you off, his desperation quickly turning into agitation.

“Yes, I get that, but . . . I'm just not ready to forgive you yet. I'm not ready to just push this aside and move on. I'm not . . . ready — for any of that.” Your eyes softened, as did your tone.

Despite his desperate pleads, you couldn't bring yourself to just forget the whole ordeal and why he was apologizing in the first place. But Sukuna was no better than a man. He had no clue why you felt this way. The only thing he's known in life was to move on. That's what he does and will do. That's why he is the way he is. That's why.

“Do you even want this relationship to last? Can't you see I'm trying to fix this problem?”

“I do, Sukuna. I really do. Couples fight and have arguments. It's normal. It's what we're doing right now. But just because it's normal doesn't mean I'm going to brush it aside as if it didn't happen.”

“Are you out of your—!? Do you have any idea how many girls would like to be in your spot right now? Do you have ANY idea?” By now, Sukuna had completely lost it. He was frustrated, so frustrated. He didn't understand what more you wanted from him.

“I—Sukuna, what?”

“Have you any idea? Any idea at all?”

You would be lying if you said you weren't scared, utterly afraid of the man standing before you right now. For you could see nothing past his eyes, no love, no care, nothing. Only the deep, rich crimson color that you once loved and held so dear to your heart.

“You know what? Good for you. Good for you that you have so many other better options but you chose me. Good. For. You. I guess you don't need me anymore. Goodbye, Sukuna.”

You slammed the door [shut] in Sukuna's face, falling with your back against it seconds later and bringing your knees to your chest. The waterworks started soon after and Sukuna could hear your quiet sobs from beyond the door.

He was dumbfounded, absolutely appalled. Did he really just say that to you? Sukuna knew he was not the brightest, but, damn, he's really done it this time.

Sukuna ran his fingers through his hair, now sitting in his car. He definitely did not mean to say what he said. In fact, he didn't even know how it slipped out. One second he was basically on his knees for you and the next, he . . . wasn't. Seriously, what the hell is wrong with me? He thought. He continued to sit there, reflecting on his actions and words. But he still couldn't believe it. What the fuck just happened?

He came to your apartment hoping to salvage the remnants of your guys' relationship, but he ended up ruining it — forever. Sukuna was 100% sure this was the worst fuckup in the history of mankind.

But he couldn't just leave it like this. He could still fix this, right? Alas, Sukuna had lost all hope; he lost his mind; and he lost the love of his life.

“Shit,” Sukuna muttered. He had really lost it, he thought, as he walked back to your apartment door. He had really lost it, he thought, when he spared a glance at your apartment number.

I'm going back to 505

That was the whole point of this, right? He was going back — no matter what, right?

When you look at me like that, my darlin', what did you expect?

He had really lost it, he thought, when he saw your glossy — yet still absolutely mesmerizing eyes after reluctantly answering the door, waiting for Sukuna to say something, anything. Anything at all. But he didn't. He didn't say anything at all. He had really lost it, he thought, when he pulled you in for the most zealous kiss he had ever experienced that left you gasping for air. His lips slotted against yours, moving fervently simultaneously. Albeit, he pulled away rather quickly — afraid of what he had just done.

I'd probably still adore you with your hands around my neck

Mere seconds after Sukuna pulled back, you moved your hand so quickly — that Sukuna didn't even notice at first — and slapped him. Hard. You slapped him hard as fuck. But then you did something that surprised the pink-haired man even more. You embraced him in a hug, and a tight one at that.

“Hug me back, dumbass.” You quipped.

Or I did last time I checked

“You just slapped me.” He hugged you back, nevertheless, wrapping his arms around your figure. Because, he had to admit, it was kinda hot [getting slapped].

“Duh. ‘Cause you're such a loser.”

A pause of silence occured, before Sukuna spoke up.

“I didn't mean what I said,” Sukuna murmured against your hair. He had longed for this moment. God, you made him so soft sometimes.

“I know.”

“I'm sorry.”

“I know.”

“I missed you.”

“You never stop talking, do you.”

“To you? Never.”

I'm going back to 505

If it's a seven hour flight or a forty-five minute drive

In my imagination, you're waitin' lyin' on your side

With your hands between your thighs and a smile

Taglist: @starlets-things @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @lich1 @hannas16 @acroso @msvalsius

[d1g1tal-d1ary]

Part 2 of my addicted!Simon headcanon!!

Price always had a lot going on; being the Captain of a Task Force demanded a lot of time, energy and most of all - nerves.

So when one of the nurses on base had pulled him aside and said that she suspected someone stealing Morphine, all he did was nod and call in a meeting. Luckily, everyone had obliged to giving him a urine sample to let it be tested for drugs.

What no one seemed to notice was Simon's eyes staring into nothingness as all he did was pray that his heavy heart wouldn't give his covers away. His head was spinning because he searched for a way out of this - there had to be a way he didn't have to take it. And suddenly his mind started to wander off to you; the only one who'd met him without knowing he was Ghost. The only one who knew he had a problem - a fucking big one right now - and the only one who understood him was you.

One hand tightly gripping the little cup, the other one knocking loudly on your door. He didn't hesitate when the door opened; he simply pushed it open and walked into your tiny apartment.

"Simon?" you asked with a frown plastered on your face. You hadn't expected him - of course you hadn't so all you were wearing was one of your cute pyjamas you avoided to wear around him normally. "Is everything okay?"

"I messed up," was all that came across his lips with a heavy sigh. When his gaze met yours, all he could do was put the cup on your kitchen table and point at it. "I need your help."

You stepped closer and eyed the little cup and when you realized what exactly he'd asked you to do, you shook your head. "No, I'm not helping you fake a drugtest."

"Please, luvie," his eyes studied your face - he reduced the distance between you two quickly and took your face into his rough and calloused hands. "I'll never ask anythin' of you ever again. Just let me keep my job, fuck- it's the only thing that's been keeping me sane all this time."

Of course your heart sank when you heard his pleading and even more so when you looked up at him and you could see the desperation in his blue eyes. After moments had passed - which felt like years for Simon - you'd finally nodded and given in to him.

"I knew you'd understand," he whispered and pecked your lips before letting you go take the drugtest.

You'd never felt so dirty in your life. Pissing into a little cup while Simon waited impatiently outside the bathroom made you feel greedy and so, so worthless. But if you were being honest; there was nothing you wouldn't do for Simon. Of course you weren't supporting his addiction - that was the main reason you had broken up, after all. But he was your Simon. The closest you'll ever get to finding unconditional love.

A few days after Simon had given the sample to Price - he'd been the last to hand it over - the test results finally came. And Price would never doubt his team; they'd done everything together for years at this point, but he could also imagine one of his soldiers having an addiction as it was nothing new.

To his surprise and relief, all the test results came back negative. But looking at Simon's results made him frown - or more so, all he could do was huff at the result.

"You wanted to speak to me?" Simon had stepped into Price's office; not even thinking that it could have anything to do with the drugtest as he knew you hadn't taken any.

Price's eyes never left Simon's form. He watched him intensly as he took the seat across from Price's desk. "Yeah, well, the results came back and since you're L.T., I thought you'd deserve to know before everyone else."

Simon hummed in response while leaning back, silently thanking you again.

"Luckily, everyone's negative," Price announced which made Simon even more relaxed. "But.. The Lab was a bit confused and thought something went wrong as Simon Riley's clearly a male name."

"Captain, I don't think I can follow you," Simon had frowned under his balaclava.

Price barked a bitter laugh as he looked at the Lieutnant in front of him. "They found the hormone Beta-hCG in your piss. You wanna know what that means?"

All Simon could do was nod; unaware of what's to come.

"The fuckin' piss is from someone who's pregnant," Price lowly said. "So now we not only know this wasn't your piss, but I think you two would've been smart enough to know we‘d find out. So, Riley, should I say congratultions?"

Y‘all wanna read part 3???!!! 🙏😭

[dotster001]

Request pls: Yuu's Harem

Riddle, Leona, Jamil, Idia, Malleus, Azul to gn!reader that helps them heal from overblot (unsure to add Vil cus he has Rook whom already does god's work everyday)

Reader just comes close to their space and sees if they're doing good. Then it evolves to asking about their day and about the world of TW to make convo. Then it turns to a friendship where Reader commends them for doing things beneficial and good for themselves in the day, then tells them "Good boy/good job!" at even the smallest things when they take care of themselves without Reader's help (beast tamer Yuu awakening)

Reader gives them a braided bracelet made by themself and they cherish it. But then one day the Vice/Other dorm leader notices the bracelet and goes "Ah, so you're officially part of the harem"

You can write either first or second paragraph I just wrote it all out for context of the second

Self Love and Braided Bracelets

A/N: I did a little bit of both 😁 I included Vil, because no offense to Rook, but someone who makes comments about someone's weight is not good for self love

3k followers masterlist

"So, I made this for you. You don't have to wear it, I just….I was making one and it kind of started to remind me of you," you handed Vil the gold and purple braided bracket you'd made the night before. He gently picked it up, seemingly unsure of how to feel about it.

"Also, I just want to say," you took a deep breath, "if you ever need to talk to someone, I'm here to listen."

The look in your eyes was so heartfelt that Vil worried he'd tear up just from looking at it. 

"I'll keep that in mind, thank you."

Not that you'd ever know how raw you'd made him feel. Perhaps he was still too weak from his incident. It didn't matter. He was as composed and calm as ever.

A braided bracelet didn't exactly fit his wardrobe. But the next morning, his hand hovered over it, hesitating about not wearing it. So he slipped it on. His gut was never wrong, and it was telling him to wear it. Besides, his sleeves would cover it.

….

Months later, and Vil was now sitting at your lunch table. He'd never admit it, but he enjoyed it when you would take a spoonful of food and feed it to him when he didn't eat enough.

Malleus Draconia, of all people, walked over to your table with a tray, his entourage in tow.

"Hey Mal Mal! I'll get us some more chairs," you said with a smile, getting up and beginning your hunt for seats.

Idia looked up from his silent eating, and pointed to Malleus' wrist.

"So you're part of the harem now, huh?"

"The what?" Vil muttered before noticing the green and black braided bracelet on Malleus' wrist.

"It's not a harem," Riddle said with a pout.

"What else would you call it?" Idia snapped, fiddling with his own bracelet that Vil was noticing for the first time.

"The turnip's got a point for once. It is very harem like," Leona snickered.

"Doesn't harem imply a romantic aspect?" Azul asked, looking up from his meal. 

"The flowers we all got for love day have a certain implication," Leona smirked.

"And the "I love you, have a great day! You matter to me!" Texts every morning also have an implication," Jamil muttered, clearly flustered by the conversation.

Idia nodded, and said, "It could also just be a friendly harem. You know, a harem of self love. Harems can be platonic."

"Platonic, huh?" Riddle sounded a little sad.

"It sounds like it really depends on Y/N's feelings," Vil spoke up finally.

Before the others could respond, you came back dragging a chair with you.

"Sorry that took so long! Who knew it would be so hard to find a chair?" You laughed.

Malleus sat down, and you looked over at  Idia.

"Idia, I know I don't say this enough, but I'm really proud of you for eating lunch with us."

"Thank you," Idia practically purred, the tips of his hair turning a light pink.

Vil shook his head with a light laugh. He looked at his fellow "harem mates", and realized that whether this was platonic, romantic, or something else, he was willing to see wherever it led.

[bedoballoons]

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿─

A/n: This is a part 2! Angsty! They try to apologize, readers unsure if they can forgive them and lots of pleading/apologies! No happy endings so I apologize in advance! Thank you @0vendettaself for the idea!

Requests/asks open!

{༻~They said something they didn't mean~༺}

(Includes: Diluc, Albedo, Alhaitham, Xiao, and Scaramouche!)

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𑁍༄Diluc:

"Just leave me alone. I don't need you bothering me, I deal with that enough already."

Diluc took a step closer to you, feeling guilt swallow him whole...how could he have said that to you...the person he loved so much. "You're never bothersome to me... I should have never said that..I'm so sorry." His voice was pleading with you, his hand reaching out to touch your face just like he always did, but before he could actually touch you, you pulled away from him...

"Diluc, you can't just say things like that...and then say you're sorry and think that makes it all better." You crossed your arms, covering yourself protectively as warm tears started to make their way down your cheeks...your heart hurting at the thought of being...bothersome...to someone you loved so much. He couldn't just say that and not mean it...right?

He swallowed harshly, racking his mind for some way to fix this...take away what he had said, "You're right, I just...is there anything I can do to make you feel better?" You looked away from him, unable to answer because in truth...you were asking yourself the same question.

𑁍༄Albedo:

"Could you please just get out of my way, I have very important things I'm working on and you're not helping."

Albedo reached out, grabbing you by the wrist harder than he meant to, in a attempt to stop you from leaving. His bright blue eyes looking at you with so much guilt in them, "Please don't leave...I like when you're with me, I was just having issues and I took that frustration out on you...I'm so sorry. I swear you're not in my way my love." His voice cracked as he begged you to stay, but you felt like you were just in the way now...and honestly you weren't sure if that feeling would go away easily.

You pulled your wrist out of his grasp, trying desperately to not cry in front of him..."Albedo, you never say things you don't mean and clearly I was bugging you,...I'll just leave for now." Your voice was barely above a whisper as you rushed out the door, leaving him on the other side of it, wondering if you could ever forgive him...if he could ever forgive himself.

𑁍༄Alhaitham:

"This isn't something you'd understand, not unless you've doubled your IQ overnight."

Alhaitham closed his book, sighing at his own ignorance when it came to love...to people, he could tell he had upset you greatly and yet he had no idea how. "I truly didn't mean to hurt you... What did I say that upset you? I'll make sure to keep it to myself next time..."

You could barely believe what you just heard...he didn't even realize what was wrong and he'd just keep it to himself next time...which meant it wouldn't solve a thing. "All of it Alhaitham. All of what you said, your tone of voice, that annoyed look you give me...you make...you make me feel stupid. Like I'm not smart enough to even compare to you...and it hurts because I already worry about things like that."

He stared at you, his eyes widening as you spoke...but he said nothing in return, what could he say, even he didn't know. In the end you left, not another word said by either one of you...

𑁍༄Xiao:

"Leave."

"No I'm not leaving...it's not your choice wether I stay or not Xiao, it's mine and I would rather spend all my days with you with that slim chance of you hurting me, then spend my life without you and always be hurting." Your words sounded so fragile now...your mind racing with the horrible thought of possibly never seeing him again. How would you even be able to stay in Liyue... everywhere...everything was showered with memories of the two of you together.

"You...you can find someone better. Someone who doesn't have that risk to begin with...I'm sorry. I shouldn't...I shouldn't have given you hope, I just...wanted so badly to love you, but my love is dangerous and even though you're right, leaving is your choice...it's also mine. I'll leave." As he spook your heart sank deeper and deeper, into a bottomless pit of depression...it was like drowning but so much worse. You opened your mouth, wanting to yell at him not to go but...he disappeared before you even had the chance...leaving you...

𑁍༄Scaramouche:

"I don't love you, honestly how could I when you're just a mortal and I have the power of a god."

You backed up more, your back up against the wall as hot tears rolled down your face... everything you once believed about your relationship suddenly wavering. "H-how could you..." You stuttered, unable to properly think as he apologized over and over...trying to take it back, but it had already sunk in. It was like a knife shoved into your stomach, twisting with each meaningless apology.

"I don't know! I just spoke without thinking, I wanted to hurt you but not...not that badly! I'm sorry I didn't fucking mean that, you're the only one I've ever loved." His voice cracked as he continued to move closer to you, his hands shaking with anxiety...if you left because of this.. he'd be all alone, again. "You can say something rude to me, or I can do something to make you feel better...just, just don't go. Please."

You shook your head, using your arm to wipe away your tears as you shoved past him, bolting towards the exit, why would you stay...for someone who didn't love you.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚Have a good day!*⁠.⁠✧

[stolitzsings]

It's just SO fucking good and so fucking gutwrenching how much sense both of their mistakes make for them

And how backed into a corner both of them felt

It's completely understandable that Blitz would feel blindsided by Stolas’s confession- from his perspective it's coming out of nowhere

But this is something Stolas has been wrestling with for months now, and it's slowly killing him. He starts off his day with an anxiety vomit bc of how stressed he is about this conversation, and he also thinks this might be his one and only chance to tell Blitz how he feels. He's giving Blitz the crystal, no strings attached, so for all he knows he might not ever see Blitz again after tonight. He needs to lay it all out there if he wants Blitz to understand

Also Stolas has been trying to show Blitz he cares for so long: inviting him to hang out for things, suggesting movies and comfort after the turmoil of Ozzie's, letting Blitz take the lead on whether to see him for the full moon each month, plus everything Blitz mentioned to Fizz! Liking his pictures and asking him how he is and all those things that Blitz dismissed because he simply couldn't fathom that Stolas would actually be interested in him. Stolas has been giving him space and checking in on how he's feeling and offering to talk about things, presumably for months now, all in a bid to show Blitz they could have more than a transactional relationship.

And he'd been hyping himself up to have this conversation, telling himself it could go great! Maybe Blitz would be just as happy as he was! Maybe he felt the same and this would all work out!

But even though Blitz does care about him, he's fucking terrified to show or even acknowledge it, because feelings mean getting hurt. And he's been shutting himself off from the possibility of Stolas having those feelings for months as well. He can't allow himself to hope for anything more, and anyway it would just complicate things, so best to stick to nice, safe sex stuff like he's sure Stolas wants to anyway.

So he completely misses all the times Stolas is trying to give them a way forward, and as a result he just can't believe Stolas’s confession could be real. And then he REALLY fucks up. This has to be a sex thing, right? The one thing he's convinced himself Stolas wants, especially tonight? He's thinking "there's no way anyone could love me like this," but all Stolas hears is "there's no way YOU could love me like this."

Because while Blitz has been shutting out any hope that Stolas could love him, Stolas has been CLINGING to scraps of hope that Blitz might love him, in order to give himself the strength to have the conversation they're having now. I don't think he understands why Blitz wouldn't leap at the chance to believe him.

To Stolas, this is confirmation that Blitz still sees their relationship as the same as it was after Ozzie's, when he said their relationship was just sex and Stolas SAW how unhappy he was. Clearly, Blitz still feels this whole thing is about Stolas wanting Blitz to fuck him, and it's not fair to keep him trapped in that dynamic. He thinks the conversation is over, he has his answer because Blitz wasn't happy then so he clearly isn't happy now.

Stolas spends the rest of the scene trying to bow out gracefully. He thanks Blitz for changing his life and tries to escape before he really breaks down. Remember, he's going through an acrimonious and, to be frank, VIOLENT divorce right now, with the person that he's terrified of becoming in his relationship with Blitz. He would do anything to get out of his shitty relationship quietly, so clearly the kindest thing he could do is let Blitz go without making a fuss.

But Blitz is only just realizing that he read the situation so wrong. When he chases after Stolas, Stolas might see it as just another person following him around his house to yell at him. For Blitz, though, he's scared, he's angry at Stolas for springing this on him, and he feels like Stolas is trying to discard him because of one dumb thing he just did. Stolas doesn't know how many times Blitz has been dropped before because of one fuckup. He doesn't get how close he's gotten to Blitz's past trauma. Meanwhile Blitz is trying to get Stolas to give him a second to figure shit out, to just stick with him and not expect him to have all the answers right away.

And when Stolas doesn't give him that, because he's convinced that Blitz is still unhappy and is now just trying to make this hurt as little as he can, Blitz retreats back into anger. Finally Stolas is discarding him just like he always knew he would eventually. Their relationship has been such a rollercoaster for both of them and he just needs a little time, dammit! So now this feels like just another case of someone throwing him away for not living up to their expectations.

Stolas can't hear him asking for time, though. All he sees is Blitz following him to curse him out, to yell about how shitty he is, just like Stella has always done. And Blitz is right!!! Stolas was so crushed by the initial rejection that he didn't give Blitz the space he needed to process things. Blitz wants to talk and yell and fight through things and get all the shit out there. But Stolas is so focused on holding himself together for just a little longer.

Stolas's biggest fear was that he'd trapped Blitz in their arrangement, and the way Blitz tries to ask for time and engagement unfortunately hits directly on that. Blitz is yelling that Stolas doesn't get to just dismiss him, he deserves a chance to be heard and to figure shit out, and to have an actual conversation about this. But Stolas fixates on Blitz’s accusation that he's treating him like a servant, and assumes that he's referring to their entire relationship. It confirms, in his mind, that Blitz was never with him willingly and would never want to be with him willingly.

And it must hurt so much to hear Blitz call him a "pompous, rich asshole" in that moment, when he has been trying so hard to be selfless about this. He made himself so vulnerable with this confession and the gift of the crystal. He put everything he had out in the open. But if Blitz thinks he's an asshole, well, there's no way he could share his feelings, right? He's being vulnerable, and probably expected Blitz to do the same and lay his true feelings out there as well. And Blitz really is trying, but he's still using anger and insults because they're familiar and safe. PLUS there's the added panic of "Oh fuck, how badly did I hurt him that he thinks of me like this?"

Stolas doesn't know how many times Blitz has been abandoned for fucking something up, and Blitz doesn't know how many times Stolas has had to shut down and endure tirades of abuse he couldn't escape from. Stolas thinks he's done all of this and Blitz still can't see him as anything but a stuck-up, frigid jerk. And if this desperate, grand gesture wasn't enough to get Blitz to see how much he cares, well, what hope is there?

He's still reeling from what he perceived as Blitz’s mockery of the very idea that Stolas could care for him. He tried to leave peacefully but Blitz won't let him bow out, still wants to yell at him and tell him how shitty he is, won't even give him the dignity of breaking down in private. Never mind that those weren't Blitz’s intentions at all. Stolas was so scared, so tentative about this, that Blitz’s almost inevitable incredulous/messy reaction was bound to hurt.

Both of them are working off their own assumptions, their low opinions of themselves, and their past traumas, and can't see enough of each other's histories to understand that's what they're doing.

[lu-is-not-ok]

Any particular thoughts on Fanghunt Hong Lu?

Yes, one very specific thought in fact.

Fanghunt Hong Lu is the most violent Hong Lu ID we have had thus far, being one that not only revels in violence like Tingtang Hong Lu or Hook Hong Lu, but also one that is actively shown torturing his victims in some genuinely stomach churning ways.

He is also the one Hong Lu ID which, while mentioning his Family, is one that doubts the very nature of what a family even is the most clearly.

This, to me, highlights a very noticeable pattern among Hong Lu's IDs.

When a Hong Lu ID is shown to be actively under his Family's control, he's either completely uninterested in violence (such as Liu) or so bored with the role he's forced into that violence is the only way he's able to push back against that boredom (K Corp and W Corp).

On the other hand, a Hong Lu ID that seems to be heavily disconnected from his Family is often one that is actively enjoying the violence he inflicts and is notably kind of fucking unhinged (Tingtang and Hook).

Fanghunt Hong Lu adds another nuance to that spectrum, being an ID that still has contact with his Family, but one who isn't specifically in a position chosen by them and who is led to doubting what a family even is by his experiences.

He shows us a possible outcome of a Hong Lu who has to actually reckon with reality and doubt what he knows about his circumstances, and the results are not pretty. After all, like I said earlier, Fanghunt Hong Lu is the most violent and most hate-filled Hong Lu we've seen up to now. He pulls out a guy's fucking teeth one by one for fuck's sake.

...And this made me think a bit. We actually have quite a few Hong Lu IDs with a Wrath Sin Affinity by now. However, Fanghunt Hong Lu is only the second we have with a Wrath Skill 3. The other one being, of course, Liu Hong Lu.

Both Hong Lu IDs with a Wrath Skill 3 seem to be to some extent aware of something being wrong regarding their Family, in very different ways that lead them into reacting to it very differently.

Liu Hong Lu seems to be aware of the fact he has no real control over what happens when he's under his Family's watchful eye, leading him into being the least violent Hong Lu of them all. He's aware of what his Family is doing to him, but he's unaware of it being abnormal.

On the other hand, Fanghunt Hong Lu seems to be unaware of the specific horrors of his Family. Rather, he's become aware that Family itself is a concept that he can't quite understand. He's seen Bloodfiends who abandon their previous families to be with their new Bloodfiend families, and it's a point of focus for him. What even is a real family?

...This, I think, is where Liu and Fanghunt Hong Lu differ the most. Liu Hong Lu knows he's being hurt, but he doesn't see any way out, that it's just how things are supposed to be, so he simply tries to live through it.

Meanwhile, though Fanghunt Hong Lu doesn't have that piece of the puzzle, he does have a different one - the seed of an idea that he could escape. Proof that one's "Real" Family doesn't have to remain their only family. He just doesn't yet realize what he'd want to escape from, so he channels the feelings he's experiencing because of that information against the immediate source of it. Instead of using that idea to free himself, he directs his anger towards those that actually tried it and succeeded.

I don't mean to keep pushing my "Hong Lu will go apeshit in Canto 8" idea, but like... The more info we get about him, the more likely that possibility becomes. After all, Fanghunt Hong Lu is a clear example of the fact that a Hong Lu aware of an escape route from one's Family could become extremely violent. That added onto the potential of Lorenzo's story told by the Priest being a parallel to Hong Lu, and the fact that the Sapling of Light Hong Lu is likely going to parallel is Chesed... It's all a lot.

[mattmurdocksscars]

Exes

Summary: After a dare to call an ex goes the opposite way you thought it would, you and Matt reconcile.

Word count: 3k

It started out as a normal enough night. You and your girl friends had gotten together after a long week and were having some drinks. Then someone suggested shots. Then someone suggested truth or dare. And that's how you found yourself in your current position.

Your phone was held in front of your face on speaker as it rang. You had been dared to call an ex and after a moment of panic, you'd realized exactly who to call. There was no way he would pick up. Not only had the two of you ended on bad terms but it had also been quite some time since either of you had spoken to each other. Plus, he had nightly activities that would keep him busy. So surely he wouldn't answer-

“Hello?” You froze as Matt's exhausted voice cut through the chatter of the bar. All of your friends immediately began to giggle, covering their mouths to hide the sound. When you didn't answer after a moment, Matt said your name with concern. Clearing your throat, you blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“I didn't think you'd answer.” You heard the sound of him moving around on the phone followed by a small hiss of pain.

“Of course I answered. You never call. So clearly something must be wrong.” Your brain was quickly putting together the hints he was giving off, even in your inebriated state. He was obviously home, exhausted, and the sound of pain he'd let out all told you he was hurt. Without further thought, you took your phone off of speaker and walked away from the table, much to the disappointment of your friends. You told Matt to wait a second before you moved so you were outside the bar where it was slightly quieter. 

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have called. To be honest, it was a stupid dare from my friends and I genuinely thought you wouldn't answer.” Matt sighed on the other end.

“It's… fine. I just thought… nevermind. I'm glad you're okay. Do you need anything else? If not, I'm gonna go.” His voice was cold but you could still hear the exhaustion.

“Are you okay?” You blurt out, before you can second guess yourself. The line is tensely silent and after a minute, you find yourself rambling

“It's just that I can hear the exhaustion and pain in your voice. I don't mean to pry but I'm just worried about you. Did you get hurt again?”

“You're worried about me?” You feel your cheeks heat at his question and look down at your feet, kicking the pavement.

“I-...of course I am. It sounds like you're really hurt. I know we're not together anymore but that doesn't mean-” Your brain catches up with what you're saying and you abruptly cut yourself off.

“Doesn't mean what?” Matt asks, his voice quiet but hopeful. You sniffle, feeling tears prick at your eyes as the realization really hits you. You miss him. So damn much. And in your inebriated state you can't help but to tell him the truth.

“It doesn't mean that I don't care. Because I do, Matt. I care so much. I miss you so much. Where did we go wrong?” You ask brokenly. Matt's heart shatters at your words and he grunts as he gets to his feet.

“Sweetheart, where are you?”

“Why?”

“Cause I'm gonna come get you. You're obviously drunk and I don't want you walking home alone.”

“No, Matt, you're hurt. You don't need to be worrying about me right now.” You wipe your eyes and sniffle again. “I'll be okay. I'm sorry I called.”

“Are you?”

“...No. I'm not. I missed your voice.”

“I missed yours too.” Matt admits quietly. “I'm sorry I couldn't be who you wanted me to be. I know you wanted me to give up Daredevil but-”

“No, Matt, no! I never wanted that, I just wanted you to slow down some and take care of yourself. You were so hurt all the time and it got to the point I was scared you wouldn't make it home at night. I never wanted you to stop, I just needed you to understand that you were running yourself into the ground.”

“You- Really?” 

“Really.”

“All this time, I thought… God, where did we go wrong?” 

“I don't want you coming out because it sounds like you're hurt but… can I come to you? Can we talk this out?” You bit your lip as you waited on a response. 

“Are you sure you're sober enough for this?” You laughed, hearing the teasing edge to his voice.

“I will be by the time I get to you. Please, Matt? The thought that we could fix this…”

“It is a very tempting thought.” Matt murmured. “My place is a bit of a mess but it's open to you. It always will be.”

You immediately grinned and turned back to the bar.

“Let me pay my tab and say goodbye and I'll be there soon.”

“Stay on the phone with me? Since you won't let me come get you.” You chuckled but agreed. Swiftly, you paid your tab, said goodbye to your friends, and hurried to Matt's. The entire time, the line hung open between the two of you. Soft conversation flowed freely and you felt yourself getting giddy the closer you got to Matt's. By the time you reached his apartment complex, you were almost breathless. The alcohol had worn off on the brisk walk and you were almost wishing for the liquid courage it would have provided you. Instead, you pulled open the door and hurried up the stairs. You made it to Matt's door and got ready to knock when the door swung open. Still holding the phone to your face, hand comically in the air, you grinned. 

“Hi.” You breathed out. Matt smiled at you nervously, ended the phone call between you two, and let his hand fall to his side.

“Hi. Come on in.” He said softly. He stepped to the side, and you entered. You kicked your shoes off and slowly walked down the hall into the living room. You took everything in, from the empty beer bottles on his dining table to the open bottle of painkillers on his coffee table. Turning back to him, you looked him over.

He was dressed in a hoodie and sweats. The hoodie was zipped all the way up for once and you knew it was to hide the extent of his injuries. His hands were tucked in the pockets of the hoodie and he slowly made his way over to you. You felt sympathy well up at the way he was limping and opened your mouth before you could think it through.

“Are you sure you're up for this? You look like you're in a lot of pain.” You told him. His glasses glinted in the light from the billboard as he tilted his head at you. There were bruises hiding behind the lenses and across the bridge of his nose. His lip was split and it highlighted his frown.

“I'm fine. Like you said, the thought that we could fix this is something I can't ignore.”

“We could always fix it later, when you feel better.”

“Having second thoughts?”

“Not at all. Just worried about you.” Matt sighed and walked over to you. He hesitated before reaching out and taking one of your hands in his. You welcomed the touch and told him so by gently squeezing his hand.

“I'll be okay. I promise. Now, do you want anything or should we just get into it?” 

“Let's just get into it.” You told him. You gently squeezed his hand again before separating from him and sitting on the couch. You leaned forward and put your elbows on your knees, looking up at Matt.

“I am so sorry that I made you think I wanted you to stop being Daredevil. That is the last thing I wanted. I know how important it is to you and I would never come between you and your nightly habit. That being said, I did want you to slow down. You were getting so hurt and it killed me to spend my nights wondering if you were even going to make it home because you kept going out even when you were really hurt. If we're going to reconcile, I need to know you're going to take better care of yourself.” Matt nodded slowly at your words. There was a frown etched across his face and his head tilted as he regarded you. 

“I'll be honest, since we've been broken up I've been more reckless. With no one to come home to, I felt like there was no point in being home. Not that I'm blaming you or saying it's your fault. I just spiraled. Foggy and Karen had to set me straight. They made the point that if I ever wanted balance in my life, I was going to have to take more time as Matt and less time as the Devil. It took some time but I finally got it through my head. I'm actually home tonight because I'm healing. As you've already guessed. I won't trouble you with the details but it was bad. This is my second night home. Even with Claire patching me up, I knew I needed to give my body time to heal. So I like to think I am taking better care of myself.”

“Oh, Matt. How bad is it?” His sightless eyes darted back and forth as he shrugged, shifting on his feet. 

“Not as bad as the Nobu fight but close. Claire and Foggy stayed with me through the next day. Once I promised them I was staying home for a couple of days and would take care of myself, they left. When your phone call came through, I… I was so nervous. I was afraid you were calling because you were in trouble and I was too hurt to help…” Matt told you quietly. You teared up at his last words and put your hand over your mouth.

“I'm so sorry I scared you like that. But at the same time…I'm glad I got dared to call you. If it's alright with you, I'd like to keep an eye on you. Check in on you over the next couple of days as you heal.”

“Even if we don't work things out?” The tip of Matt's mouth curled up and you laughed.

“Even if things don't work out. But I have a feeling.”

“You have a feeling?”

“Yep. I have a feeling that everything's going to start getting better from here.” You smiled up at Matt, who finally moved to sit down next to you on the couch. He left plenty of room between the two of you and a part of you longed to close that distance but you let him have it for now. 

“Wow. So you're psychic now?” Matt teased. You laughed and settled back into the couch, turning to face Matt.

“Totally. That's how I really knew to call you. My new psychic abilities.” That caused you both to laugh though it was cut short when Matt gasped in pain and clutched his side. You immediately sobered watching him flinch in pain.

“When was the last time you took anything for pain?” 

“It's been a bit. Probably due for something.” You immediately stood up and headed to his kitchen, opening the cabinet he kept his cups in and pouring him a glass of water. You returned to the couch and took the painkiller bottle off the coffee table. You knocked out enough pills for a dose and then handed them and the water to Matt. He softly thanked you and took them. It was quiet for a few minutes before Matt finally spoke. 

“I missed this.”

“What? You, writhing on the couch in pain? Masochist.” Matt smiled and shook his head.

“No. Having you here. Being able to hear your heartbeat and know I'm not alone.” He admitted quietly. 

“You're not alone, Matt. You've got Claire, Foggy, and Karen to keep you company.”

“Yeah, but they're not you.” You suck in a sharp breath at his words. It never really occurred to you that Matt would miss you so much. You'd thought he would just keep himself busy and be fine. You realize now it was selfish of you to think of him like that. You hesitantly reach out and grab his hand.

“Do you want to try this again? I'm willing to give it a shot if you are.” You tell him and the smile that lights up his face has your heart skipping a beat. You'd almost forgotten just how handsome Matt could be.

“I'd love to try this again. I promise I'll try to be better. I don't ever want you to feel like you don't matter to me. Because you do. So much.”

“You matter to me too. And don't change too much, okay? I love you for you, Matt.”

“Say it again.” He whispered.

“Which part?”

“That you love me.”

“I love you, Matt Murdock.”

“I love you too.” 

And so the two of you spent the next couple hours catching up. You told him everything that had happened in your life since the two of you split and he did the same. It wasn't until you realized it was almost 2 am that you realized you should probably leave. You told Matt as much and he frowned.

“Don't go. Please? It's not safe out there this late. You can stay here.”

“Is that a good idea?” You asked him. 

“I'll stay on the couch if it makes you feel better. Just don't try to walk home this late.” He was serious and you could tell the idea of you leaving really made him anxious.

“Alright, I'll stay. But you're staying in your bed, mister. You are too hurt to be sleeping on this couch.”

“But-”

“Those are my conditions, Matt. I won't have you hurting yourself more for me.”

“Okay.” He sulked. But he stood up and pulled a blanket and an extra pillow from the closet, handing them to you. 

“Thank you. Goodnight, Matt. I'll see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

He shuffled his way over to his room and carefully laid down. You noticed he kept his rolling door open and smiled. 

“If you want clothes to change into, you know where to find them.” Matt called out. You nodded and quietly padded over to his room and pulled out an old shirt and some pants. You then disappeared into his bathroom. Once changed and ready for bed, you laid down on the couch and pulled the blanket over you. You noticed Matt was breathing evenly and were glad he was already asleep. You settled down and let yourself drift off.

Only to be woken an hour later by Matt's quiet shouts. You immediately shot up and ran over. Realizing he was having a nightmare, you gently carded your fingers through his hair and cooed softly.

“It's okay, Matt. You're safe. You're just dreaming. Wake up, baby. It's okay.” You just kept whispering sweet nothings to him until he finally lurched awake, eyes darting everywhere in his panic. Once he seemed to realize where he was, he settled. He swallowed thickly. 

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't be.”

“Okay.”

“Do you need anything?”

“Will you…  will you please stay with me? I don't think I can go back to sleep on my own.” You nodded slowly then rounded the bed and crawled in beside him. There was a tense silence for several minutes before you finally sighed.

“Come here, Matt.” 

“I don't want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You're not going to. I know you're not going to go back to sleep unless we're touching, so come here.”

Matt didn't say anything at first, he just laid there. For a second you were worried you had made him uncomfortable but then he sighed and carefully rolled over. Your heart broke for him and how badly he seemed to hurt. Before you could second guess yourself, you opened your arms to him.

“Come here, Matt. I've got you.”

Matt's breath hitched and then he was moving. He crawled into your arms and settled himself on top of you, laying between your legs with his head on your chest. You heard him inhale as if to say something but before he could, you settled your arms around him. He immediately relaxed into you, a soft rumble coming from his chest. You ran your fingers through his hair and gently rubbed at his back. Before long, you felt your shirt start to get wet and you felt your own eyes tear up.

“I missed you so much, sweetheart.” Matt said brokenly. “Please don't leave again. I'll do anything just don't l-”

“Shh, Matt. Calm down, I'm not going anywhere, okay? I'm here and I've got you.” Like a dam breaking, Matt fell apart right there in your arms and all you could do was hold him through it. The sobs that wracked his body had to hurt but it didn't stop them from happening. You did your best to soothe him, assuring him quietly. Slowly the sobs began to fade and his breathing finally slowed as he calmed down. The odd tear still fell from his eyes but he relaxed and let himself sink into your arms. 

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't apologize, Matt. Everything has clearly been hard on you and you finally let it out. That's okay. I'd rather you let it out then bottle it up.”

“Thank you. For holding me and for being so understanding.”

“I'll always hold you and I'll always try to be understanding.”

Matt smiled and dug his head down into your neck, taking slow deep breaths.

There, wrapped in each others arms, the two of you slowly felt the broken pieces of your hearts start to heal.

[sanspuppet]

Another 18+ scenario of San because i can't stop thinking of him and his huge chest.

smut, angst

Jealous/angry San: hard, rough sex

You entered into San's dorm, which he shared with his bestfriends, during the university year. He wasn't there, and you knew it, because he had one other class before the school day would finish. You looked around, searching for someone to talk with, when you noticed Mingi was laying on the couch, watching his phone. You saw his eyes staring at your body through the corner of his phone, it was quite understandable, given the length of your miniskirt, showing completely off your legs. Something went wrong in your head, and a sudden thought of you sitting on him, flowed in your mind.

"Hi Mingi! What are you watching??"

"Uhm... a f-film." he couldn't stop looking at your exposed skin, at the revealing tank top you were wearing, all for teasing him and his friends.

"Can i join you?" you asked, approaching him with an innocent smile, while taking off your shoes.

"S-sure." he only could respond, he knew what was your purpose, and he also knew it was completely wrong. But you wanted just to watch a film, right? He couldn't refuse, so you instantly sat next to him, your left hand resting on his tight. After some minutes, knowing that San would come back soon, you choose to make things a mess, like you were doing for some days:

"Min, i can't see clearly, can i sit on your lap?" you asked looking at him with your puppy eyes.

"Uhm... i dont think it's a good idea..." his nervousness growing under his oversized sweatshirt.

"Pleaaaseee Min" you begged him, already moving on top of him. You could feel heartbeat speeding up, so you layed your back against his chest. The film was catchy, but your focus was only on the face San would have seeing you like that. You started to rub yourself against Mingi's lap, and you could immediately feel his boner growing harder, under your panties.

And it was when, you heard the door closing, and saw a strong figure staring at you: San.

"H-hi bro..." Mingi's face was red for the embarrassment (and for how hard you made him "involuntarily")

"Hi Sannie!" on the contrary, you smiled as if nothing was happening.

"My room. Now." was the only thing your boyfriend replied, and a smirk was placed on your face once you were following him.

He shutted the door behind him, angry. The look in his eyes was intimidating, you could tell he was really upset.

"Tell me, kitten. Why the fuck do you keep teasing the others?" he said with a strange calmness.

"San- i-" you tried to say something, despite you perfectly knew he was not expecting an answer.

"Wanna behave like a slut, huh?"

You always thought your boyfriend was a calm and kindhearted person, so much that you questioned yourself if he would ever get upset with you. That's how you started to slightly tease his bestfriends, and see if he'd get jealous, and oh yes, he really would, but that stupid little joke turned in a serious way, when he decided that you had reached the limit.

"You like to rub yourself against Mingi's cock, with that little slutty skirt of yours, huh?"

"No please- i didn't mean-" you immediately felt scared, realizing that you maybe had exaggerated.

"You know you got him so hard, do you?"

"San, im so-" you got goosebumps, as he grabbed your hips with one hand, squeezing them with his fingers, so desperately that it would probably leave bruises on your skin.

"Shut up, i better mark you as mine, right?" He walked a few steps towards you, and placed his index finger under your chin, forcing you to look at him. But the only thing you could do was staring at the floor, too embarrassed to even see his mad face, you were used to a sweet San, who cuddled and praised you everytime he could, his angry look, was now seriously scaring you.

"Fucking look at me, what? Now you feel guilty?"

"Y-yes..." was the only thing that escaped from your mouth, you were trembling under his stare.

"Oh we'll see if i should forgive you, take your clothes off."

"But...Mingi-"

"Huh? What? you want him to join? You'd like to be fucked like him, yeah?"

"No i didn't mean that-"

"It seems like, seeing you behaving like a whore."

Tears started to fall from your eyes, you've never seen him like this, making you realize you've really messed up. You wanted to apologize but you knew he wouldn't forgive you, not until he could hear you screaming for him. San grabbed your hips with both of his hands, and threw you on his bed with force. His look was cold, like he didn't feel anything for you now, he was extremely upset, and you could tell it.

"I said, clothes off. Want me to call one of my friends to do it for you? You little slut."

"N-no, i can do it myself." you almost choked with your saliva, panicking by the thought he hated you by now. You got immediately naked, under his gaze.

"Spread your legs."

"Yes d-daddy-" when you called him like that he used to like that, so you thought it would somehow help his angst.

"Dont call me like this." He said before lefting the bedroom. When he came back, behind him was standing another person: Mingi. You gasped and instantly tried to cover yourself with your arms. San chuckled:

"What? Never seen a slut being shy for her naked body."

"San- i really-"

"He'll watch. If that's what you really want, he will see how much of a whore you can be, maybe you'll learn something."

"Uhm... San i dont think i should watch-" Mingi said, hesitant.

"Yes. You should." San replied, making him sit on the armchair, in front of the bed.

You eyes were now red from how many tears have fallen from your eyes. You barely cared about Mingi's presence, what you really wanted now, was your sweet San.

"Please im sorry San..."

"i'll forgive you once you'll be completely emptied from your cum." he started to untie his belt, and dragged down his jeans.

"San. Mingi has nothing to do with it, let him go." You tried to look more serious, hoping you'd convince him. In facts, he turned back and looked at Mingi. San rolled back his eyes, sighing:

"Okey, leave."

Mingi instantly stood up and left you two alone. San got closer to you, his face a few inches from yours, you could feel his deep breaths against your skin.

"If i fuck you mercilessly, you'll learn your mine, right?" he took your neck in his hands, squeezing it slightly.

You nodded, preparing yourself. He sat on the bed behind you, and dragged his hands down on your body, until they reached your clit. He whispered in your ear:

"One orgasm for each day you kept flirting with my friends, this is for Tuesday." he suddenly slided three of his fingers inside your pussy, pounding them into you relentlessly. His other hand keeping your leg still, while the tip of his fingers were touching your g-spot at every thrust.

"Come on, i know you'd like to moan, don't you? Fucking scream for how much you enjoy to be fucked."

The only thing you could do now was obeying, he had you, he owned you. You groan extremely loud, when he sped up his pace even more, his fingers rubbing against every single part of your walls.

"That's it, that sounds exactly like a slut."

"Please- San- im c-close-" you kept moaning, your body started to shake by the immense pleasure: he has never touched you like this.

"Already? That's so humiliating, how sensitive your pussy is." He placed his other hand on your clit, moving his fingers in a circular motion, harshly. Your pussy clenched intensely around his fingers as you felt your first orgasm coming. And in no time, you completely wetted San's hand. You've never released so much cum in your entire life, and it felt incredibly good.

"I should clean this mess up." he said, and moved in front of you, on his knees, his eyes facing your throbbing pussy.

"W-wednesday?" you trembled, knowing you probably couldn't take again all of that pleasure, since you still had to get off of your recent high.

"That's it." His lips were now placed on your clit, kissing and sucking it. Then he licked your walls with his warm tongue, sliding it inside you a few times. You arched your back, your eyes shutted as you tried to ignore all the pleasure that was taking the control of your body, you couldn't stop shaking, your fingers gripping the fabric of the blankets, desperately.

"So fucking wet, all because of me, right?" he asked you. Despite you were too fucked out to respond.

"Right?" he repeated, squeezing your pussy with his fingers.

"Y-yeah! F-fuck-" you choked.

He looked at you, smirking. His tongue was now rubbing against your folds relentlessly, licking them like it was his last meal, the tip of his nose pressing against your clit. His hands were keeping your legs opened widely. You were already reaching your climax again, so quickly that it was embarrassing. You couldn't help but scream his name:

"San! San- please! Im yours-"

He groaned, and let his fingers pleasuring you.

"Don't try to escape it like this. You have 2 days left." he said, before you squirted on his face, exhausted. He licked his lips, tasting it, and took his remaining clothes off. His dick was standing straight, his tip red, thick and pulsing for how hard he was.

"Doggy style." obviously, he loved seeing your ass slapping against his hips, everytime he fucked you. You immediately placed yourself on your hands and knees, barely standing, because of the tiredness. He didn't wait before taking his dick inside of you, already thrusting in you deeply.

"Thursday."

A couple of minutes passed, before you felt your walls pulsing and clenching way too much around his dick, warning him you were hitting your orgasm once again. God, poor Mingi, the amount of screams and groans he was forced to hear, it definitely seemed like a pornographic film stage.

San's thrusts became sloppy and messy, segnaling he was close too.

"Gonna fill this pussy with my cum, and you'll take all of it." he said, before releasing inside of you, until his cum was sliding out of your folds. You layed your chest on the bed, too tired and fucked out, that you couldn't even think concretely.

"i-i can't-" you tried to murmur.

"Oh yeah, you can. You'll regret what you did to Mingi."

"s-sorry. i'm s-sorry."

"I know, i know. Just take it one more time, ok baby?"

Baby, that fucking word convinced you.

You tried to nod, turning yourself so you could face him. He looked at you, his stare was now more relaxed, and less angry, which it made you cheer up a bit.

"Good. I give you some seconds before the next round."

He layed on the bed, beside you, looking at you. His hand was resting on your tummy.

"Why did you do it?" he asked, with a sad tone.

"T-that was stupid, im sorry..."

"I asked you why."

"B-because you were just too kind, was thinking if you would ever get angry with me."

"Why would i? you're perfect."

You turned your head, looking at him, tearing.

"Im so sorry San, i swear i only want you."

He got closer to your ear, and whispered:

"I know it, i'll try to be more gentle now. Okey?"

He said, before sliding his cock inside of you again. He threw his head back for the amount pleasure, and moaned your name.

"You're so weird y/n... but i still love you."

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

i highly recommend this song, don't know.. it's just sooo good and they need more recognition :/

[writingsbymo-mo]

How you found out Takeomi is Sanzu's brother...as his secretary in Bonten

🎟 Also...you may use your tickets now 🎟

One minute, you're Sanzu's secretary, and the next, you're his glorified therapist. It all started when he came back from a mission drenched in the blood of traitors he personally put to rest. He wasn’t quite himself, even being under the influence of drugs. This was very unusual.

Sanzu threw off his bloodied waistcoat and tie, throwing them across the room. He fumbled in his steps to the couch in his office, collapsing onto it with a heavy sigh squeezing the bridge of his nose. "I'm an only child." He kept repeating over and over.

You dropped what you were doing, setting the stack of papers onto your desk and stepped over to him, sitting in the chair across from him. "Do you want ot talk about it, Sanzu?"

Sanzu repeated his sigh and shook his head. "Just let me rest a bit."

You nodded, patiently waiting for his next move. Sanzu mumbled under his breath, clearly annoyed by something. "Fucking Takeomi....you're not my brother anymore....don't need to tell me how to do my shit...."

"Wait...Takeomi is your brother?"

Sanzu froze. His eyes widened as he realized what he said out loud. He quickly grabbed your hand, bringing you closer to him and placed his hand over your mouth, staring at you, warning you not to say another word...yet. His shoulders slumped, moving his hand away when you nodded and dropped a heavy sigh. "Yes....that asshole is my brother..." His eyes darted to your chair, giving you the cue he was ready. "Where do I begin with this...."

Sanzu started with the times Takeomi punished him for the things Senju did then proceeded to blame him for not taking care of his sister because of it. Over and over again. He hated it. It wasn't his fault at all and yet, he'd be punished whether Takeomi knew or not. He wanted to say something, anything to keep it from happening but he could never stand up to his brother. At one point, he couldn't take it anymore and left. He wasn't Haruchiyo Akashi anymore, he's now Haruchiyo Sanzu.

"Hold on, Takeomi is your brother...and he did all that to you even though it wasn't? The fuck?!! You bolted from your chair in disbelief and fury. "Who the fuck does that?!"

Sanzu stared wide eyed at you from the couch. You didn't raise your voice often but how could you not after hearing everything?

"Sanzu, one slap. Just one slap across that bastard's face is all I ask."

Sanzu couldn't help but smile at the thought. What he would do to witness such a sight. He sat up, directly facing you now. "So, you want to slap my bastard of a brother?"

"Yes, please Sanzu! He deserves it!"

"Alright, let me call him in here." He stood up to get his phone from the table.

You gasp in shock, "Wait, right now? Really?!"

Sanzu picks his phone up, eyeing you with a smirk. "But of course. And I'll make sure he doesn't say anything."

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

"What the hell did you call me for at this hour, Ha-Sanzu?!"

Sanzu let him in with a straight face. "My secretary found something interesting that requires your attention."

Takeomi sighs, taking a puff of his cigarette, "alright, what is it?" He peers over to you with tired eyes.

You let out a breath you had been holding since he stepped in, making your way over to them. "Can you lean forward for me a bit?" Takeomi does what you ask unknowingly what's to come.

Slap

Takeomi was now looking at a laughing Sanzu in disbelief. "The fuck—"

"The fuck is wrong with you is more like it. That's what you get for punishing him for things he never did!"

And just as Sanzu promised, Takeomi never said a word. He never told you what was said but you had an idea.

[hyuckkaiji]

even the stars do not compare to you - abby anderson × f!reader

summary; you and abby are both fools. fools who have loved each other while thinking the other incapable of reciprocating. fools whose feelings are finally out in the open.

word count; 1.8k

warnings; momentarily sad abby

note; abby anderson brain rot. she is my precious baby girl, and I'll give her the whole world if she'll let me

∘₊✧───── ─── ─────✧₊∘

Owen had been Abby's first, well her only, everything. But truthfully, he'd never been her first choice. He was what was left when she realized she couldn't have what she wanted.

And don't mistake that for her not having love for Owen. She does. She loved him once. It was a true love of sorts. And he has cemented his place in her heart, albeit small. There wasn't much room for him to take up, not when you occupied the rest of it. You occupy it still.

You have seeped into her, mind , body, and soul. She is infected by you. It seems the more she tries to stop it, the further you spread. You've claimed her, soiled her, left her unattainable to those around her. And you don't even know it.

That's the fucked up part, gods be good, she's yours and you don't even know it. She has to satiate her desire for you with mere friendship. She feels like a dog on the streets begging for scraps, for any measly form of sustenance. But if you need her to beg, she will.

Clearly, you need her to beg. It's been almost two weeks since she's seen you. You were fine last she saw, but it feels like you're avoiding her.

Volunteering at any open tasks, never on patrol with her. She doesn't understand. For years now, the two of you have been attached at the hip. Going so far as to switch shifts just so you can patrol together, but now, all of a sudden. She doesn't get it.

She did something she not particularly proud of, she's already established she'll beg ... it just has to be in person. She can't write down these thoughts to get your attention, she'll seem ... weak. So instead she asked Manny to find you, to tell you she's looking for you and it's an emergency.

There's no emergency, no that's a lie. The lack of your presence is an emergency, and you're the only solution.

"Abby." The sound of your voice startles her out of her thoughts. You didn't knock. You never do. Abby doesn't mind. She actually enjoys that you walk into her space like you own it. Because you do, not that you know that. At the very least, it makes her happy that you know she'd never deny you her space.

"Manny said you were looking for me, something serious." Concern laced your voice but you'd still yet to walk up to Abby the way you normally would, keeping your distance. Standing at the base of the stairs as she looked up you.

Her braid was loose at the end, starting to fall apart, she'd just finished pulling the band out when you interrupted her. She looks pretty with her hair down, at least you think so. But she hardly ever has it down, it's a vulnerable thing for her. And how she's hates being vulnerable.

"Yea." She stands, rubbing a sheepish hand over the back of her neck, "I've been trying to catch you for over a week now." She's walking towards you, and you want her to come closer. Want to feel the warmth that radiates off of her, want the scent of pine waft around you. But you take a step back.

A look of hurt passes over Abby's face, stopping in her tracks. "Why have you been avoiding me? Did I do something wrong?" Her thumb nails flicks against her forefinger, picking at the skin around her nail. An anxious habit.

"No." Your voice is small. You're not sure what else to say, how to voice what you've been feeling, if you even should. You had decided against it, decided just to distance yourself as much as possible, but now, being confronted like this, your decision wavers.

People underestimate Abby. Yes, she's big, but she's also fast, faster than you. She up the last few remaining steps, inches away from you, fingers locked around your wrist, all before you have time to say another word.

"Then why are you avoiding me?"

"I'm not."

"Liar." You are a liar, you've always been a liar, at least when it came to Abby. The truth was a weight you chose to bear alone, you say choose but really your fear had forced the decision. Fear of losing her should you come clean.

"Abby." You try and pry her hand away, but her grip holds firm, just enough to keep you near her, but not enough to hurt you. Never enough to hurt you, Abby would never hurt you. You let out an exasperated sigh, giving up, letting your hands fall at your sides.

"Sometimes... people grow ... apart." She says nothing, a beat of silence before you continue, "It's a part of life. People get older, they change, friendships don't always last forever." Her brow is furrowed, she nawing at the inside of her lip. The two of you ... grow apart ... it's not possible.

"You were fine last time I saw you. How long have you been feeling like this?" Her hair had fallen loose in her rush up the stairs, falling in waves around her face. Damn every God, she looks so beautiful with her hair down.

"A while. I didn't know how to tell you." Abby looks you over, you're lying. She's known you for as long as she can remember, she's loved you for as long as she could remember. She knows you, do you not know that? She knows when you're lying.

"Tell me the truth."

"I am-"

"The truth. Now." She's angry, like she has any right to be angry at you. This is her fault. Your resolve is shattered, how dare she be mad, how fucking dare she. This is her fucking fault.

"You wanna know the problem, Abigail?" You sneer at her. "You're the problem. You. I cannot stand being around you. I can't stand seeing your face everyday, hearing your voice, smelling you in the air. For fucks sake that stupid scent  of that stupid fucking soap clings to everything and I hate it. You are the problem."

She finally lets you go. She's on the verge of tears, but the tense tick of her jaw tells you she's not going to let them fall. "Alright... if that's how you feel." The guilt settles, deep in the pit of your stomach, you feel nauseous.

"Abs..." Your voice trails off.

"Just go."

"Abby." You reach out for her hand but she pulls it away.

"Go."

"I can't. I can't because you're right, I'm a liar." And a coward, damn the universe for making you, damn it for making her. She says nothing, only stares at you her anger is palpable, no, not anger, hurt, her hurt. Liar, coward, you add monster to the list.

"That wasn't true ... I don't know why I said it like that."

"It sure felt true."

"Abby..."

"How else could you have possibly meant it?"

Liar, coward, monster, idiot. Your list of personal descriptors is ever growing.

"I do hate those things." Abby huffs, looking away from you. "But not because I hate you ... Abby, even the stars do not compare to you. I have never see so beautiful a person nor I have I been enamored with anyone other than you."

"Do you know what it's like? To be in love with someone for so long and you can't say or do anything about it? To watch as they get with some ignorant douche who doesn't treat them the way they deserve?"

"To be in love with someone who only sees you as a friend? To be the shoulder they cry on about their shitty partner?" You shake you head, running a hand through your hair. You catch Abby's eyes, she's staring at you with this look of utter shock.

"I don't know when the years just became one too many, but they did and I can't keep doing this to myself. I can't get over you if I'm always around you."

Your name slips from her lips, like a mortal who has just come across their deity in the flesh. Oh she must be dreaming, then she's laughing.

It's your turn to be hurt, to cross your arms over your chest defensively. Watching as she giggles like a mad woman before wiping away a stray tear. "Pinch me, I want proof I'm awake."

"Abigail."

"Yes?" She smiling at you, big doe eyes watching you. Fuck you're so hopelessly in love with her, what made you think you had the self control to stay away from her.

"I'm not joking ... I'm in love with you."

She pulls your arms free just to take one of your hands in her own, running a callused thumb over your knuckles.

"Do you remember, when we were sixteen and we'd snuck out to watch the stars?" You nod.

"Do you remember asking me what I dream about? Asking me if you think the stars would grant our wishes if we told them?"

"You told me you dreamed of freedom and that the stars were just gas in space, not genies. And that they weren't even that pretty." Abby let's out a breathy laugh.

"I've never dreamed of freedom, I dreamed of you. And the stars are just gas, I'd come to realize that by then. If the stars could grant wishes they would have answered mine."

"I used to tell them my secrets, but they never made them come true."

"What...what did you tell them?"

"That I was in love with a girl, a girl so beautiful she took my breath away every time I saw her. I told them that I wanted to be hers, I wanted her to love me the way I loved her."

"When we were sixteen I hated the stars for ignoring my prayers. But it seems I was wrong, they had been listening all along. Though I maintain they really aren't that pretty, not in comparison to you."

Abby leaned in, her lips ghosting over yours, asking permission, you closed the gap. Wrapping your arms around her neck.

It was soft, sweeter than any kiss either of you had before. All gentle caresses and light wandering fingers trailing exposed skin.

Abby pulled you to her bed, pushing you down in between pecks. She hovered over you, "If i wake up and this was all a dream, I'm gonna be so fucking mad." Her lips are back on yours before softly trailing down your neck.

Her kisses are cool and open mouthed on your warm skin. She kisses her way down to your chest before letting her weight slowly settle on you. She rests her head, using your breasts as a pillow. "Promise I won't wake up by myself."

"I Promise." You wrap one arm around her, tracing random patterns on her clothed shoulders and back, the other falls into her hair running gentle fingers through her dirty blonde tresses. With in no time she's fallen asleep, feeling safer and more loved in your arms then she ever did in Owen's.

[writeforfandoms]

Wicked Game

Find my Gaz masterlist

You're having a hard day already, and lack of communication doesn't help anything. Turns out you're not the only one having a bad day.

Be mindful reading this one, it's a bit heavy. Take care of yourselves.

Warnings: Depression, anxiety, insecurity, established relationship, feelings-heavy, angst with a hopeful ending.

Word count: 1k

Your fingers tapped against the counter as you looked at your phone again, a quick glance this time. It lay still and silent, as it had most of the day. Oh, sure, you'd had some messages from a friend, a check in from a coworker, the usual emails. 

But nothing at all from Kyle.

You understood that things happened, and the two of you had an understanding. He did his best to tell you before he had to leave his phone behind, and you did your best to wait and understand. It had taken time to get here - one teary phone call, an argument after he got home once, more very quiet tears, and a long talk. 

It wasn't always easy, but you'd sooner leave than ask him to give up any part of his life.

That didn't always keep the anxiety at bay, though. Didn't always quell the downward spiral of your thoughts, from worry about him to worry about the two of you. Had your shine finally worn off? Had he finally realized he was better off without you? 

You breathed in deep, forcing your gaze back to the bowl of bread dough in front of you. No. None of that was true. He'd said he loved you just yesterday. Feelings didn't change that fast. His wouldn't change that fast. Kyle was a good man, an honest man. He wasn't perfect, but he didn't lie to you. 

He wouldn't lie about this. About the two of you. 

Gritting your teeth, you shook your head. Okay. This was bad. You knew it was bad. Normally you could distract yourself, stop yourself from spiraling. That it was this hard meant you needed to do something more. 

One hand snatched up your phone, uncaring of the sticky little bits of dough still clinging to your fingers. It took only a few taps for loud, angry music to blare from your phone. 

Better.

Putting your phone back down, you refocused on the bread dough. It still had to sit and rise for an hour, then shape, then second rise, then bake. Plenty of time for you to prep the rest of the ingredients for dinner. 

Too many ingredients for dinner for one. 

You stopped short and closed your eyes, breathing deeply. The urge to bang your head against the counter didn't help, and you didn't act on it. 

“What the fuck is wrong with me today,” you grumbled, not even phrasing it as a question, the words half-lost under guitar. “He's fine. Nothing is wrong. He'd say otherwise.” You breathed in deep again, holding it until your lungs burned, and then letting it out slowly. The thump of your heart against your ribs was not comforting, but it was there, so you focused on that. 

Clearly you needed more of a life if you were this upset. 

Or maybe it was just a bad day. Maybe your depression was flaring up again. 

Maybe, maybe, maybe. 

The kitchen, normally comforting, was too small. Too enclosed. 

Everything would keep. No appliances were on. 

You slammed out the front door less than a minute later, keys in hand, jacket pulled on haphazardly. You just needed to go on a little walk. Some fresh air and movement would help clear your head, help you feel better. 

You'd just go for a little walk, no more than half an hour. Just long enough to really stretch your legs. 

It wasn't until some unknown amount of time later when you went to check the time that you realized you'd left your phone behind. 

Well. It wasn't like it mattered, anyway. 

You let yourself back in, moving slower now. Everything had drained from you the last five minutes of the walk home. No more anxiety, no more self-hatred, no more energy. Your plans for dinner felt like too much now, impossible to achieve. You didn't even want to look at the bread dough. 

In fact, you would have gone straight to your room to lay down. 

If you hadn't heard your phone buzzing against the counter, the repeated pattern of a phone call. 

You almost didn't go check, convinced it would be nothing. Just another thing to ignore today. 

But your feet turned to the kitchen instead of your room. 

Your phone vibrated one last time and then stopped. You'd missed the call. 

It probably wasn't important, anyway. 

But your phone vibrated again. A text this time. Despite the disinterest trying to crowd out everything but the thought of bed, you picked up your phone to check. 

A text from Kyle, asking you to call him back. Two missed calls from him, ten minutes apart. 

Your heart raced, even as you hurried to call him back. A thousand half-formed thoughts spilled through your head, everything from delight that he'd called to dread that he had some terrible news. 

“There you are,” he breathed as he answered. “Fuck, sweetheart, I was worried.” 

“I went out for a walk, forgot my phone,” you said, absently making your way to your bed to sit. “What's going on?” 

He breathed out slowly, just audible through the slightly staticky line. “Bad day,” he admitted. “Just wanted to hear your voice.” 

You warmed, at least as much as you could through the gray of your own depressive episode. “Yeah,” you murmured. “Been a not great day here, too.” 

“You alright?” You could hear him straightening up, tired but ready to put it aside. 

“I'm okay,” you answered, slumping back onto your bed, your feet still on the floor even as you laid back. “Tell me about your day.” 

“Was nothing special,” he said slowly, a note of hesitation in his voice. 

“Doesn't matter,” you replied. “I want to know what you got up to today. I can't be there with you, I can't make you food. But I can listen.” 

His breath hitched, and he cleared his throat. You knew he edited some things, because there were things he couldn't tell you, or things he didn't want to burden you with. But it didn't matter. You listened. You knew some of what he wasn't saying. 

It was the same thing in your heart, after all. 

I miss you. I wish you were here. I wish we could be together right now. I want to see you.

Things weren't okay by the time the two of you got off the phone. But they were better. You liked to think you'd helped. 

And you knew you'd both meant the words at the end of the call. 

I'll see you soon. I love you. 

[steddieas-shegoes]

you are the best thing that's ever been mine

for the @steddieholidaydrabbles warm up round 1 (prompt: high school or college AU) rated: T wc: 638 cw: n/a tags: established relationship, angst with a happy ending

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

Being with Eddie had been easy. Two years at college, pretty much sharing a dorm unofficially, studying together whenever they weren't working their shitty jobs, annoying Eddie's roommate Gareth constantly.

But when graduation came, and real life set in, they realized quickly that what they thought was hard was nothing.

They had a small apartment on the outskirts of town, rundown and barely worthy of the rent they had to pay, but it was theirs.

Steve managed to find a job at an elementary school as a guidance counselor right after graduation, but Eddie struggled for a while. It didn't seem like anyone was hiring for a music teacher, and he started to wonder if he'd made a mistake in his degree.

He thought he'd taken a safer route than just going into the music industry, or trying to, but clearly he'd been wrong.

"Baby, we're fine. I make enough to cover what we need, we just have to be on a tight budget," Steve told him after Eddie had explained how useless he felt not contributing to their bills yet.

They were lying on the couch, Eddie tense under Steve.

"But you shouldn't have to, Steve. I'm basically the same as the spider we refuse to kill in the shower," Eddie groaned.

"No you're not. You're trying to find a job and you're going to," Steve insisted.

"And if I don't?" Eddie said, pushing Steve off of him so he could stand up and pace. "If I end up searching for a job for months or years, how long until you get sick of having to support us both? How long until you kick me out because I can't give you what you want? We can't ever have a family on just your income in this shitty apartment."

"Eds, you won't be unemployed forever. We've got time."

But Eddie didn't want to listen.

He walked over to their window that opened onto a fire escape and climbed through it.

Steve saw that it was raining, but knew Eddie wasn't going to come inside until he was ready.

If Eddie had to be in the rain, then Steve was going to be with him.

Steve joined him a moment later, cringing slightly at the cold rain instantly soaking his clothes.

"You remember our senior year, when I was convinced I'd have to drop out because my social work for students professor hated me? I cried every night for three weeks about his class and his attitude. I was awful. But you listened to it all, held me through it all, helped me study for tests and prepare for my final presentation. You remember what you told me the day of the final?" Steve asked, keeping some distance between them while he spoke.

Eddie shook his head.

"You said that one hard class wasn't going to keep me from being what students need. You told me that I was going to be fine because I already cared about kids I don't even know yet, and anyone who couldn't see that was an idiot. And you told me you loved me for the first time."

Eddie looked over at him, brows furrowed, hair dripping wet from the rain.

"You loved me through a tough schedule, and being broke, and complaining about someone who ultimately didn't matter. You loved me when I was an asshole to you and everyone, you loved me when it was hard. Now it's my turn, okay? Let me love you through it all."

Eddie didn't answer for a moment, but then he leaned in and kissed Steve's forehead gently.

"I never thought I'd have someone who loved me like this. You're the best part of my life, you know that?"

"And you're mine," Steve replied, kissing him on the lips as the rain continued to fall.

[popodoki]

Hey, teacher! a Catwin motorcycle au, part 10

the final stretch lads, next part is going to be nsfw

The internal panic swelling, raging within his gut, keeps Edwin from focusing on anything for the rest of the day. He's gone through all the trouble of defeating his hangover-related queasiness, only to have it replaced with the vomit-inducing terror, realizing he'd come on to a man, a man that he hardly actually knew, truly, while blackout drunk.

A drifter, a vagrant, with an endless supply of charm, who curses around children, makes a damn strong cup of coffee. A man, who smiles with perfect teeth, rides a motorcycle that's louder than a jet engine, is probably part of a violent biker gang, and tucked Edwin into bed, making sure to lay him on his side. This is who he fell for.   

It's not his fault. Edwin himself, is the one who'd lost control of his faculties, embarrassed the poor man. He's the one who has obviously said something, something completely inappropriate and forward, ruined the comfortable friendship they've only just begun. 

A sudden revelation. Edwin can play dumb. Pretend he has no idea it happened. Who's responsible for every little thing they do, when they're blackout drunk anyway? 

Well, adults. Edwin scolds himself. He'd never be able to pull it off, it's not the right thing to do anyway. He sits in the same armchair he occupied last night, drinking bland tea this time, to settle his stomach, and stares at the wall. He doesn't want to face what he's done. Thomas didn't bring it up in the morning, so there was clearly no rush to get it sorted, on either end.   

His mind drifts back, yet again, to the recently uncovered memory. "When you're feeling better, ask me again?" 

Edwin groans under his sighing breath, frustrated. Thomas said 'ask me again.' That meant he wanted another chance at whatever Edwin had offered, if his memory serves correctly. But that's the thing: memory is not serving. He doesn't even know what he's supposed to ask for, again. Did he ask Thomas to kiss him? To fuck him? Did he ask for a goddamn bedtime story? Or to be the big spoon for the night? Suppose he gathers enough courage, brings it up again, and it turns out to be nothing romantic at all?   

He's too afraid of succeeding, he's too afraid of failing.  So, he resigns himself to spending the rest of his life in this moment, sitting in this armchair, not moving. He'll just be here, forever, with no answer. 

He's the Schrodinger's Cat of romantic and sexual frustration. 

So, they don't talk about it. Thomas had gone out again, earlier, stating the need for a grocery run, and as soon as he steps back through the door, Edwin raises to join him in the kitchen. After unloading the bags, they cook together, bustling around the kitchen, around each other, in easy, companionable silence. Edwin breathes an internal sigh of relief, while he peels potatoes. Maybe they don't have to talk about it. Maybe they can just pretend it never happened. It's a nice dinner. They talk about their day, how Edwin managed to plow through grading tests, what Thomas thought of the neighbourhood. They clear their plates together, wash the dishes side by side. Thomas is only a little quieter than normal, before he says that he'll be swinging by the Allcott estate again, tomorrow. The casual reminder leaves Edwin reeling by the sink.  

Has it been only two days, three? Sounds like an eternity, at the same time, just the blink of an eye. 

Edwin says goodnight as soon as the lull in conversation permits, heads upstairs. He doesn't hear Thomas's bedroom door shut below him, until several minutes later. He sits on his bed, bare feet on the floor, for far too long. He's not even doing anything. He's just staring at the wall, while his brain tells him all the ways this can go wrong, all the ways this can go right.    

You can do this, says his brain. Look at the facts. He invited you to try again, he just didn't want to take advantage of you while you were drunk. How noble! How respectful! You should suck his cock, I'm certain he'd let you! 

Are you completely insane, squeaks his brain in retaliation. Thomas is a nice man, yes, but don't be an idiot, confuse that with wanting to jump into bed with you. Can you even trust your memory? Are you sure what you remember, is what actually happened? 

Edwin wracks his brain. The memory seems so real. It's detailed, in a way that he's sure he couldn't concoct in his own imagination.   

Soon enough, the confusion and fear turns to anger.   

Fuck this, he thinks. Hells, fuck this. I'm going down there. I refuse to be afraid in my own home. I know him. I do. We haven't known each other for very long, but I know him, and I know he wouldn't be violent with me.   

Edwin stands, softly crosses the room. He opens the door as quietly as he can, descends the staircase softly, stalking like a cat. When he reaches the bottom of the stairs, he peeks around the corner, sees that the light is still on in Thomas's room, but it's very quiet. He approaches the door, and then stares at it, for a full 15 seconds. 

He knocks. A task more difficult than one would assume. Knock too loud, and it sounds angry, knock too quietly, and if it's even audible, it sounds too tentative. Confidence, Edwin, confidence.   

"Yeah?" Comes the muffled response, from behind the closed door. "Come in." 

Edwin opens the door, finds Thomas sitting on the guest bed with a book. It's one of Edwin's books, from his extensive travel library. This one is a book of photography from London.  He watches as Thomas slips a piece of paper in it, to hold his place, sets it down on the bed.  

Shit. Edwin swallows. He really hadn't rehearsed what he would say. He scrambles for the words, hoping for a stroke of insight, something to give him a suave and smooth opening line, for the dialogue they're about to have. "I'm not drunk." Is what eventually comes out. Thomas gives him a questioning look, an eyebrow raise, that quickly lowers, fades into comprehension. He sits up a bit straighter.  "And your offer still stands?" 

Edwin feels his face turning redder by the moment. "I have to be completely honest. I can't remember what it was exactly, that I did offer. But I remember you telling me to try again. When I wasn't a disgraceful mess." 

Thomas chuckles, and Edwin’s heart lurches about in his chest for all that the sound soothes him so, or maybe exactly because of how much he lets it. "You weren't a disgraceful mess. You were fine, like I said. Just. Very open, I guess is the word for it? Almost a different person." 

Edwin looks at the floor. "A better person?" 

"No." Thomas says, firmly, standing up and crossing the floor to stand directly in front of Edwin. "No, I like the real Edwin better. That's why, I wanted to make sure that drunk Edwin and real Edwin felt the same way on this particular subject." Edwin can't stop a smile from inching onto his face. "You know, you're a walking example of the idiom, 'don't judge a book by its cover.'" Thomas takes that final step forward, shrinking the distance between them, allowing their chests to brush just the slightest bit at their synchronized intakes of breath. "I like to keep people guessing. Part of my charm." 

"So, what exactly did I offer?" 

The slightly shorter man laughs, low and soft.  "Hm, well. I think your exact words were, 'let me make you feel good, Cat King.'" 

Edwin can't help but scoff. It doesn't sound like something he'd say, and yet he believes Thomas implicitly. It's so unbelievable, that there's no way he'd say it, if it wasn't true. One of those, 'you can't make this stuff up' situations.   

But the words are out there, now. He said them, they both know it. All of his cards are on the table. 

He lifts his eyes from the other’s lips, they meet Thomas's. Edwin leans forward, their chests are fully touching, tension in the air so thick it's almost tangible. This close, he can smell the other's unique scent; skin, sweat and a tantalizing hint of leather. "Let me make you feel good, Cat King."