#this would rip ass in a fanfiction

[coochie-sniffer3000]

i decided i wanted to write a hybrid full plot summary of the mother 2 novel and an analysis, but thats WAY too much work for me to do, so it’s on the back burner for now. however there’s something in the book that compares ness and pokey in a way that i SUPER like, and it makes me appreciate some aspects of the novel despite its really flawed flaws.

i already summarized the portion of text in my draft, so here it is: its explained that ness’s father is away on a business trip managing his food chain “ness burger.” the reason it exists at all (and is named after his son) is because ness’s father made a burger to his picky son’s liking, and it was a hit with the locals. he later got tied in with a contract that placed him into a lot of debt under a man named aloysius minch (thats pokeys father, but you know that), and most of his profit is siphoned to him. minch has a very successful chain of supermarkets, which supply ness burger. he plans on decreasing the quality of the burgers and letting the gossip fly from there. he wants ness’s father to become insecure of the brands ability to be successful, then coax him into selling the business to him, where then he will rebrand it to “pokey burger” and restore the quality of the product.

i honestly like that. i dont know if this detail will be mentioned again, but it highlights the difference between pokey and ness’s relationships with their fathers. ness burger was founded simply out of a fathers love for his son, and aloysius saw that love as an opportunity to take advantage of another person and profit. then he wants to rebrand it and mimic another family’s father-son relationship, like performative love. it’s SO jarring that aloysius doesn’t actually do anything different. just uproots an unsuspecting father and slaps his own sons face over his family business so he can say “hey, son! look at me being such a selfless father, giving you your own burger joint.” cause pokey im gonna be real with you thats a little tragic. it couldve been executed better, but i see it and i like it…. im still appalled by an authors ability to make a game series called “mother” about characters relationships with their fathers 😭

[evasive-anon]

Jason Attacking Tim at Titans Tower

Fanon vs Canon

We've all seen the versions in fanfiction but I'm not so sure everyone's seen the original so if you're one of those batfam fans who doesn't want to read the comics (regardless of reasons) but you are curious about how it actually went this is for you.

What I'm addressing:

What does Jason actually say to Tim during the attack?

Did Jason drug all the other Titans?

Did Jason really wear a Robin costume?

Did Jason slit Tim's throat or call him replacement?

Did Jason actually break Tim's bo staff?

Was Tim crying or scared?

Did Jason write a message on the wall in Tim's blood?

Did Jason's eyes glow green?/Did he follow pit rage mechanics?

Panels and details below. This is a LONG one.

What did Jason actually say to Tim during the attack?

Dialogue in fanfiction during the Titans Tower attack varies based on what kind of fic you're reading but usually its either 'time to clip Replacement's wings' if its staying a beatdown whump 'or oh no precious lil bby why is no one watching you' if its an accidental child acquisition. Not judging either option, but this ain't about them its about the real shit.

Look at these opening lines:

Hey, Tim. I was here first.You're the Red Hood. You've been cleaning up Gotham the easy way. Easy? What do you know about easy, Tim? You had a father that looked after you. You went to a private school, right? You slept in a bed. I slept on the streets, I lived in the alleyways in Gotham. Trying to survive. Until Bruce took me in. I trained as hard as I could. I did whatever he asked. . . at least at first. But it didn't matter. They said I wasn't tough enough to be robin. But today, they say you are. Show me, Tim. Show me what you have that I didn't.

Jason really puts himself out there in all of his dialogue in this encounter, the struggle of having to fight for anything and everything he got in life, even the things that came to everyone else for free, and then being told he wasn't even good enough for the things he fought for.

There's a trope in fanfics that if Jason knew Tim stalked Batman and forced his way into being Robin that it would change how Jason felt about the situation but that's even addressed in this comic:

You were a kid, worried about how Batman was spiraling down into darkness. You spent weeks tracking the dark knight. Solving a mystery no one else could. You discovered who he was behind that mask. Millionaire Bruce Wayne. You were so pleased with yourself, I'm sure that you forgot who you were really dealing with. I know Bruce Wayne. And let me tell you, Tim if someone was trying to find out who Batman really was. If someone was stalking him for weeks. He'd know about it. You can't be that good. I am. He let you find him. And I bet he said the same thing to you as he did to me, didn't he? That you had a talent to make a difference in Gotham. That he needed someone he could trust in war on crime. That you were one of a kind. The light to his darkness. Robin, the Boy Wonder.

Tim saying 'I am' is really such a moment that doesn't come through in text because he is right that he really did do that but I also completely understand why Jason wouldn't believe it.

TBH my favorite part is how done Tim honestly sounds with Jason thoughout all his trauma dumping. Like imagine a grown man who used to work the same part time job as you breaking into your house, dressing up in your work uniform, ranting about how much the job ruined his life while he beats your ass??? God, and he probably had to write a fucking report about it after. RIP Timmy.

What do you want? Do you want to be Robin again? Is that it? You... want to take it away from me? Why in the hell would I ever want that? Don't you get it? When I died no one cared! No one remembered me. Are you completely insane? No one could forget you. I've spent my entire career wearing this mask under your shadow. I had to convince Batman to let me try this. All because he'll never stop blaming himself for what happened to you. You ask me, that's the only reason he hasn't taken you down. He's holding back. But me? No freakin' way. That's the Robin I wanted to see. Still. You do realize the whole idea of training a teenager to fight against something he'll never eradicate is a mistake. It didn't even surprise anyone when I died. When I failed. I failed-- but I'm still beating you. Do you think you're that good now?! Do you really, Tim? Yes.

Tim bashing Jason across the face as he says 'no freakin' way'? *chefs kiss*

Jason drugging the other Titans to knock them out?

Little bit true, Kory was actually just already away from the tower and BB and Cyborg were about to bounce because of the drama going on with Donna's return but Jason like super tazes them and then drugs Raven who he thought already went through enough shit without him knocking her out violently.

Note: Jason says in the text here that he never rolled with Cyborg or BB but like he actually did in some comics so?? The continuity is lie I guess idk.

Did he show up in Red Hood gear or a Robin costume?

Both tbh but he spent most of the time in the Robin costume but bro actually made a stripper rip away version of his Red Hood gear so he could dramatically reveal the Robin costume underneath. I can't believe no one ever includes that in their fics its so fucking funny.

Does he call Tim 'replacement' or slit his throat?

No, this came from a Batman comic with Hush not Teen Titans. That incident takes place in a graveyard not Titans Tower and he calls Tim pretender not replacement.

Does Jason break Tim's staff?

Tragically, no. The bo staff snap would have been iconic. Instead he just takes Tim's staff and beats Tim up with it and breaks stuff. BUT!! He uses it to bust a statue in the TITANS MEMORIAL ROOM which is a place in Titans Tower just for having statues of dead previous titans and Jason is rightfully pissed he didn't get one. Like Tim is correct in saying no one forgot him still but like I would be hurt too if all my friends made cool statues of friends that died and then just left my zombie ass out, like wtf.

Note: I am seriously losing my shit that I have never seen someone bring up the memorial room in a fanfic. That is so much angst material. 😭

Tim crying/ being scared?

Hell no. He's a fucking Robin you know he's being a sassy boy the whole time, even towards the end when he's about done he's still saying he's her and I love Tim for that.

Note: There are a few different times where Tim does a flippy Robin move and then Jason just fucking copies it like flexing that he can do it too, and its just so petty and stupid he's trying so hard to be better than an actual child. 💀I get why in the context of the situation but its still so ridiculous.

Message on the wall in Tim's blood?

TBH I really don't know for sure on this one?? Like its implied that he did but Tim isn't bleeding all that much throughout this beatdown and like we don't see Jason do it just the Titans reacting to seeing it after. It could be Tim's blood, it could be red paint, and it could even be that Jason packed an actual bucket of blood to bring with him to write a message with after he finished. TBH the world is your oyster on this one.

Note: If anyone can find another comic where this event was brought up where they actually clarify it was Tim's blood hmu and I'll update this but I couldn't find any.

Pit rage/ glowing green eyes?

Fanon only at this point in the comics. Jason is seems to be himself and even thinks Tim and his friends are pretty cool at the end, and he's just like reflecting on if he had good friends if he would have turned out better as he leaves.

[gojos-thot-patrol]

I've been promising this one for awhile.

Now Loading...

Starring: Mafia Boss!Sukuna

My contribution to @chrollohearttags Tales from the Underbelly collab! In which Gojo accidentally kidnaps the wrong girl, and our "heroes" have to decide what to do with her.

Content includes: slow burn smut, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, blood kink if ya squint, and slight indulgence of the writers breeding kink.

Trigger warnings include: Kidnapping, gun violence, gore, a dog attack, an attempt at assault and the use of the word "ravenette" once as a dare. Reader discretion is advised.

Your mom had warned you about meeting strange men online. You had assumed at the time it was just her weird boomer-esque tendencies, a fear born before the time of tinder. But as you breathed in your own breath from inside this itchy burlap sack, sitting tied up in this not-at-all comfortable chair, you started to think maaaybe she was on to something. 

It wasn’t your fault though, truly it wasn’t. This guy was hot. Like, unbelievably hot. So hot it was stupid. So hot he belonged on the cover of french magazines or in summer blockbuster movies that sell tickets not for the plot- but for the eye candy. Who wouldn’t risk life and limb to get a piece of that? You wondered if Satoru Gojo was his real name, just in case you needed to make a police report. You wondered if you’d get that far.

Okay, Y/n, no no, don’t think like that. That will get you killed. Calm down and assess the situation. What did you last remember? Your date. You met him at a bar, and was genuinely shocked when he matched his profile picture. You made idle chit chat, and your drink came. Did you order that drink? You couldn’t remember now. You did remember it tasting salty for a screwdriver though…

Shit, that guy definitely drugged you. Why?! It made no sense, you probably would have fucked him if he had just asked nicely! Hell, even if he had asked rudely, there was no need for this! You silenced your thoughts as you heard movement. A door opened and the sound of boots on concrete echoed through a far too big to be practical room. And then, a familiar voice.

“No dude, I got her!” That was definitely Gojo, the fuck ass. “It was so easy too.” He was laughing, because of course he was.

“Yea, that’s the problem. Excuse me for being suspicious, but this feels way too easy considering how long we’ve been chasing this woman,” another, much smoother voice said. Oh god, what the fuck had you gotten yourself into now? Why the fuck did weird shit always have to happen to you? It was like you were the main character in some fucked up wattpad, or Tumblr, fanfiction.

“Nah dude, it’s the real deal. Toji doesn’t keep his girl as wrapped up as we’ve been led to believe.” Gojo’s far-too-joyful-for-your-taste voice came again. It was much closer this time. Your body tensed as you realized the two of them were right next to you. “I matched with her on fucking tinder dude! All according to plan!”

“We’ll see about that.” Smoothie voice said. As he did, the bag was ripped off your head, and quite honestly you were too shocked to scream. You took the situation in front of you in with wide panicked eyes. There was your shitty date, looking far too proud of himself considering all he did was kidnap a helpless girl. And another man, crouched in front of your metal chair, taking in your features. Was this just a gang of people that was so attractive it was unfair? He ran a hand though his long dark hair, and knitted his perfectly sculpted eyebrows together as he looked at you. Then shook his head and stood up.

“You really did it now, idiot, that’s the wrong girl!” The ravenette snapped at your former tinder match. Satoru just blinked in disbelief.

“What?” He asked, and Oh boy, your brain started working again! Just in time for you to start screaming at the top of your lungs as the truly horrifying nature of your situation settled into your bones. This startled the men, causing them both to scream, and the dark haired one to even stumble away from you. 

“That was such a late reaction!!” Gojo yelled at you as he finally found words again.

“FUCK YOU SATORU GOJO, WHEN YOU KILL ME, I SWEAR I’M GOING TO HAUNT YOUR ASS!” You screamed at him, deciding if you were gonna die here you might as well fling a few threats around. 

“You used your real name for the honeytrap?!” The unnamed man hissed, punching Gojo in the shoulder.

“Hey!” Gojo yelped, “I thought it was her! I didn’t think it was gonna matter! What are we going to do Suguru?!” Oh, so Suguru was his name. Good to know.

“Don’t say my name!” Suguru snapped. Too late, you knew it already. “The boss is not going to be happy, you know this, right?”

“Well I mean, I-” Gojo started, before you cut in.

“Can I at least know why you guys are gonna kill me before it happens?” You asked. You wanted to know what to avoid for your next life. Gojo had the audacity to scoff at you.

“Wow, I was literally talking and you interrupted me,” He scoffed, “Rude much?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’ll try to be more considerate of the man who drugged and kidnapped me next time I open my mouth! As if that wasn’t rude as hell!” You hissed.

“Get married later, we have other problems!” Suguru demanded, snapping in front of Satoru to get his attention. “The boss is going to be here any minute, and we have the wrong girl!”

“Why don’t we just kill her?” Gojo asked. And look at that, you were screaming again. They both screamed with you, Suguru screaming over you and adding a “CAN WE PLEASE ALL STOP SCREAMING?!” at the end. 

And you did, because technically he had done nothing to wrong you, and you had no beef with him. Satoru shut up when you did. “Thank you!” He snapped, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples to try and fight off the migraine that was forming. “No, Gojo, we can’t just kill her! She’s an innocent, it goes against the code. You and I both know The Boss would have you castrated if you break the code.” Suguru reminded the man next to him. Oh, that was good news.

“So, I’m not gonna die?” You asked.

“You’re not gonna die.” “Nothing is off the table yet.” The men spoke in unison, glaring at each other as they finished their sentences.

“Sooooooo, you’re gonna let me go?!” You asked, beaming with a forced excitement, hoping it would rub off on them and they’d untie you then and there.

“It’s not that easy.” Suguru sighed, “If we let you go now, you’d definitely go to the cops, and you know at least his full name.” He said, glaring at Satoru once again.

“What if I promise not to go to the cops?” You asked.

“You and I both know that won’t work.” He looked almost sympathetic to your plight.

“What if I pinky swear not to go?” You asked. His sympathy vanished.

“In another life, you two are perfect for each other.” He scoffed to Gojo. Mere seconds after he said that, the door behind you opened again. Both men turned their full attention to the footsteps approaching, both looking terrified- though Gojo more than Suguru. You tried to look behind you, but alas, you were not an owl and could not turn your head 360 degrees around. 

“What did you two idiots fuck up now?” A low, gravely voice asked behind you. 

“What?!” Gojo tried to look offended, “Boss, I’m hurt! Why would you assume we fucked up?” he pouted. Suguru just dropped his head into his hands.

“Because it’s you Satoru, and when I came in here, you both looked at me like I was the cops and you had a corpse.” The voice scoffed, “And that never bodes well. Is that the girl?”

“So, you see, about that-” Suguru started, only to be cut off by a new man shoving his face in yours. The club of people that won the genetic lottery grew, and you hated to admit he was the sexiest member yet. Sharp features made more pronounced by a faceful of tattoos that absolutely shouldn't have been as attractive as they were. Hard eyes seemed to glow an unnatural red in the dim light of this garage(?) and his fluffy pink hair seemed both horrifically misplaced on his head, and perfectly matched all at the same time. Suddenly, you weren’t worried about your future. You were wondering what choices you had to make to sit on that perfectly sculpted face.

WAIT FOCUS Y/N, YOU’VE BEEN KIDNAPPED! You flinched away from him, tensing up because well…that’s what people do in these situations, right? You saw a tic form in his perfect jaw, and he stood up. You got a good look at what he was wearing. Fitted slacks with a dress shirt, a well tailored vest on top making him ooze with expense. The others were dressed nice too, but he somehow managed to outshine them all. Maybe its because his sleeves were rolled up, showing off his tattooed wrists and gorgeous forearms. God truly did have favorites.

“You.” He demanded more than asked, turning to Gojo and pointing at him.

“Yes Sukuna?” Gojo asked, and Suguru couldn’t hold back the groan that ripped from his throat.

“Stop using names you fucking idiot.” Suguru hissed. So his name was Sukuna.

“Gojo come here.” Sukuna said again, instantly shutting up both men. Gojos eyes grew even wider with fear.

“I, um…I’d rather not boss, I-...You’re gonna hurt me.” Gojo gulped.

“I’m not gonna hurt you.” Sukuna assured him, and for a second he sounded so sincere and comforting, even you believed him. 

“D-...Do you promise?” Gojo asked, trepidation still flooding his voice.

“I promise, I’m not going to hurt you.” Sukuna said again. Slowly, like a wild animal learning to trust, Satrou crept over to his boss. It was then you noticed Sukuna’s rings. You noticed them, because the moment Satoru was in bitch slapping range, he got bitch slapped with the ring hand, so hard that if Suguru hadn’t been there to catch him, he would have hit the floor. 

“You said you weren’t gonna hurt me!” Gojo yelped. Suguru shook his head, unable to believe his friend fell for that.

“I lied!” The pink haired man snapped, “How’s it feel to be lied to Satoru?! Do you like it?! I know I sure fucking don’t.” He hissed as he slapped him again, “You said you had Toji’s wife! That’s not Toji’s fucking wife you imbecile!”

“Ha, take that asshat, that’s what you get!” You laughed, taking maybe a little bit too much joy in Satoru’s pain. And suddenly, all three men were staring at you. You shrunk a bit at the realization. “My bad, I shouldn’t have spoke,” You muttered, “I’ll let y'all get back to it.”

Sukuna took a long deep breath to try and reregulate himself before turning back to you. “Hi.” He said, giving a smile that you think was meant to be welcoming, but his naturally sharp canines just made it menacing. “Who are you?” He asked.

“I don’t know if it’s safe to tell you my name…” You muttered softly.

“You’re already tied up under my house babe, little late to be shy now.” He pointed out. Fair enough.

“Y/n Y/l/n.” You said. He nodded and gave a small wave. 

"Hi Y/n. So what all do you kn-"

"Wait, what's your name?" You asked, cutting off a clearly powerful man. “Is Sukuna like, a title, or?” He stopped mid sentence and blinked at you, bringing his hands together in a death grip so he didn’t punch the disrespect out of your mouth. 

“Sorry, you threw me off. I’m not used to being interrupted.” He said through gritted teeth.

“That’s a common problem for her!” Gojo accused from Suguru’s arms, pointing for emphasis. This quickly got him dropped. Sukuna glared at him.

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stop talking.” He threatened Gojo before turning back to you. “My name’s not important right now. What is important is finding out just how much you know. So start talking doll.” He said, going into his back pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes. 

“So, before I answer, am I more likely or less likely to go home based on how much I know?” You asked, “Cause I’d like to go home in one piece.” The pink haired man laughed at your words as he lit his smoke. Well, laughed is a strong word. More like he aggressively blew air out of his nose, like when you see a funny meme. 

“That’s cute Dollface,” He muttered, blowing the smoke out of his lungs, “Answer my question.”

“You answer mine first.”

“No, I won’t.” 

“Come on dude, I only want you to answer one question-”

“You only want one question answered?” It did suck to be interrupted, “Fine, I’m Sukuna. Now what do you know about us?” You were confused at first, until you realized he was answering one question you asked. Just not the question you wanted answered. Well shit.

“I know his name is Satoru Gojo, his is Suguru, you’re Sukuna, and you guys are looking for some guy named Toji’s wife. Oh, and Gojo takes dick pics with a ring light.” Sukuna closed his eyes and scrunched his eyebrows at that last part, riding out the cringe wave.

“Dude, you don’t really do that, do you?” Suguru whispered to the man next to him.

“Good lighting makes the picture Suguru.” Gojo whispered back. 

“We didn’t need to know that.” Sukuna said, opening his eyes again.

“You asked what I knew.” You said, shrugging as best as you could considering you were tied up. 

“What are we going to do Boss?” Suguru asked, getting the team back on track. Sukuna took a long drag off his cigarette, trying to find an answer to that question. You were innocent, nowhere near the syndicates radar. You were a victim of them, it wasn’t fair to kill you for the crime of matching with a loser on tinder. It also went against what they stood for. At the same time though, they couldn’t just let you leave. You knew all of their names, for Satoru you knew his full name. Not only that, there was the risk of you letting it slip they were looking for Toji’s wife. Though, Toji probably knew that, all things considered. She did have a hit called out on Nanami after all, he’d be stupid not to assume they were looking for her. Fuck.

“Bring her upstairs.” Sukuna finally said, rubbing his temple with his free hand. He wondered why he kept Gojo on the payroll. “She’s our guest until further notice.” Suguru and Satoru shared a knowing glance before going and untying you.

“So you’re letting me go?!” You asked hopefully.

“Not quite,” Sukuna informed you, “Until we can find a more…permanent situation for you, you’re now the property of The Syndicate. Make yourself at home Doll.” He said as he put his cigarette back in his mouth.

“Hold on, what?!” You asked, struggling against Gojo and Suguru as they tried to drag you upstairs, “Wait, property?! Wait, hold on!” You yelped. Suguru rolled his eyes, deciding it was easier to just throw you over his shoulder at this point. “Hey! Put me down!”

“I don’t understand why you’re bitching, I thought you didn’t want to die?” He asked. And suddenly, this was all put into perspective for you. You either play nice, or you take a prolonged dirt nap. Shit. Not great options. You decided death wasn’t what you wanted, they did imply this was only temporary after all. You sighed and accepted your fate, going limp on Suguru’s shoulder. 

The sudden bright lights of the house blinded you after so long in the dim basement. You were happy when Suguru finally put you down, less so when you heard a giant dog barking, and claws scraping on hardwood. You turned around in enough time to see an absolutely massive Rottweiler running at you full speed, teeth bared. You yelped, going to try and hide behind Suguru or hell even Gojo, only to find they had already backed way the hell up; giving the beast room to turn you into dog food. You closed your eyes and tensed your body as you braced for impact.

The impact never came. When you opened your eyes, all you found was a dopey smile sitting politely in front of you, panting while waiting for pets. “Aww,” You smiled, reaching down to give him some ear scratches. His already wagging tail kicked it into high gear as you did, melting your heart. “You’re just a big baby, aren’t you?” You cooed in your baby voice.

Sukuna came up from the stairs then, rolling his eyes at the scene. “Wow Brutus, good job buddy, you’re so good at being a guard dog. No ones gonna break in here, lest they get drooled on.” He scoffed.

“To be fair, Brutus’ slobber is a genuinely terrifying thing.”  Suguru pointed out. 

“It gets everywhere.” Gojo confirmed. 

“I think you guys are just cowards.” You shrugged, petting the good boy on they head.

“They are.” Sukuna confirmed, also giving Brutus a solid pat for good measure. He turned to you then. “Come on, I’ll show you to your room.”

“My room?” You questioned. 

“That’s what I said,” His voice had an edge to it, like he was losing his patience with every second that passed. He turned to Gojo and Suguru. “Gojo, you know where she lives right?”

“Yea, I do.” He nodded. You did not like what that implied, considering you hadn’t given him your address. But, you were already kidnapped, so, maybe it was a little late to worry.

“Good. Take Geto and go grab her essentials. Clothes, toothbrush-”

“Oh, my switch!” You added. Sukuna glared at you from the corners of his eyes. “What?” You asked, “Someone’s gotta take care of my animal crossing island!” Sukuna closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Her switch, I fucking guess, and bring it back here.” He said, “Don’t fuck it up.” He wasn’t sure how they would fuck it up to be fair, but they had surprised him before. 

“Got it Boss!” Satoru said, saluting Sukuna before grabbing Suguru and heading for the door.

“Oh, and Gojo?” Sukuna called right before they reached the door. Gojo froze.

“Yea Boss?”

“We’re not done here. See me when you get back.” His voice was dark. Nothing he said was threatening, but if that was true then why were the hairs on the back of your neck standing up? And why did Gojo physically cringe, as if future him was giving him a taste of pain yet to come? 

“Understood Boss.” He said, leaving with Suguru. And with that, you were alone with a mob boss. Sukuna turned to you, blatantly eyeing you up. You suddenly felt shy under his gaze.

“Come on, your room is upstairs.” He said, moving past you to an opulent staircase on the opposite wall of the living room. You followed him, not really sure what else to do. 

“You know, you’re surprisingly calm about all of this.” Sukuna said as the two of you climbed the stairs, “Not gonna lie, I kinda expected you to like…argue with me about all of this.”

“Do you want me to argue with you?” You asked.

“No, not really. I’m just curious about why you’re not.” He explained.

“Rent’s expensive,” You shrugged, “I was like, a week away from eviction.” You admitted, looking down to try and hide your shame. It wasn’t like you had done anything wrong either. You had done everything right, followed all the money tips you could, given up iced coffee. Turns out, rent is substantially more expensive than iced coffee and when your job doesn't pay a living wage, well- living is hard. “Honestly, I kinda need a place to crash.”

“Oh, I see. Well, lucky you then.” He chuckled softly as you reached the top of the staircase. You didn’t know if you’d call yourself lucky, but, you’d take what you could get. “Here, this one’s yours.” Sukuna said, opening a door to the right. You walked into an extravagant red room, a giant bed covered in black silk with a tall canopy sat as the center piece with a black wardrobe off to the side. 

“Is this like, your sex room?” You asked, your mouth moving faster than your brain. He gave a short snappy ‘HA!’ at your joke, shaking his head softly.

“Yeah, you wish.” He accused, and yeah he was right. You kinda did wish. “This is just the guest room.”

“So…Do I live with you now?” You asked as you moved to sit on the bed. A reasonable question. Sukuna leaned against the doorway, moving his head back and fourth in the universal motion of ‘I have no fucking idea, give me a sec while I think of what to say.’

“Eh, “live” is a strong word.” He finally said with a shrug. “You’re just here until we can come up with a better solution.” He explained. You nodded, accepting that you weren’t going to get a straight answer- because he didn’t have one to give. 

“Well that’s exciting.” You mumbled, trying to rub the tired out of your eyes. It had been a long day.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure we’ll figure out what to do with you in a few days.” He tried to comfort you, before finally leaving you alone.

🚬🚬🚬

A few days had quickly turned into a few weeks. You had acclimated to your new life well, learning when to ask questions and when not to. Brutus had become your best friend, and Sukuna your odd roommate who left at weird times in the night. You were more comfortable with your situation than you were willing to admit. Turns out, you weren’t above all those other Y N girlies that immediately got stockholm syndrome after a day of kidnapping.

Still, that didn’t mean you felt particularly safe. The moment you started to, something happened. The very next time you saw Gojo after he left to grab your things, his arm was in a cast. You would hear screaming- or worse begging- from the basement. An already hushed conversation would fall completely silent as you came down the stairs. There was always something to remind you that you were not here of your own free will. 

“Ummm…Shota?” You asked from your spot on the couch, watching him put on his jacket.

“Nope.” 

“Hmmm…Akira?” Your relationship with Sukuna was an odd one. The two of you had grown comfortable with each others presence, enough that you would find yourself casually hanging out with him, or in this case, pestering him as you tried to guess his first name.

“Wrong again.” He said, checking the jacket to make sure his cigarettes were in one of the pockets. They weren’t.

“Yuji?”

“Gross no- Do I look like a Yuji to you?” That one seemed to genuinely offend him a bit. You had to be getting close.

“Yagi?”

“Y/n, why does it matter to you so much that you know my first name?” He asked, grabbing his smokes from the end table next to the couch. He made eye contact with you when he did it, and you felt your stomach flutter. That was another thing that was quickly developing. It seemed like every day it took less and less from him to make you flustered. 

“Cause you know mine!” You said, pressing your thighs together to push back your less than holy thoughts. “It only seems fair that I should know yours too.”

“I’m not interested in what’s fair Doll, you should know that.” He said, grabbing his keys off the hook by the door. You hated when he called you Doll, mostly because of how much you loved  it when he called you Doll. It always stirred something in you that you tried to suppress, something you knew would make an already not ideal situation worse. Admitting you had feelings for Sukuna felt akin to a death sentence right now, especially considering the very real likelihood that they were one sided.

“If you weren’t interested in what’s fair, you would have killed me by now!” You pointed out.

“Don’t forget to feed Brutus, I’ll be home late.” He completely ignored your very valid point. You huffed as you watched him walk out of the door. Bastard. Asshole. Tyrant, even! In the space between where your true feelings were-and what you were willing to admit to feeling- resentment grew. He had ripped you from the life you had built before, and cultivated this caricature of intimacy that he fully expected you to participate in; all while refusing to give you information as basic as his first name. It wasn’t just unfair, at times it felt cruel.

A soft whine from the nearby kitchen brought you back to reality. You smiled softly at the gentle giant waiting for dinner. “You hungry buddy?” You asked, laughing at his happy woof as you got up to fill his bowl. 

You went about your nightly routine as you normally did, minus dinner with Sukuna, ending the night curled up on the couch in your pajamas with Brutus, reading one of the many books that littered the mansion. You couldn’t focus on the words though, your mind finding the ticking of the clock much more interesting. Something was off. You looked up to see that it was already 5 AM. Sukuna was prone to coming home late, but never this late. Something was wrong. 

You weren’t sure what to do here. You were captive here, it’s not like you had access to a phone. Even if you did, who would you call? You knew Nanami was his most reliable comrade, but if Sukuna was in trouble there was a 70% chance Nanami was too. Suguru? Maybe, but- you shook your head as you realized none of this mattered when you had zero way of contacting any of these men. You could try and go look for him yourself, but you knew the door was locked. It needed a code to be opened, a code you didn’t have. Brutus whined from beside you, feeding off your nervous energy. Your fingers felt numb as you mindlessly chewed your nails, failing to think of anything other than where Sukuna was at that moment.

“Where are you Suka-” It was like you summoned him, before you could even finish your sentence the door exploded open and he came tumbling inside. You thought having him come home would be a relief, but the blood covering his side washed away any possible relief that could have come from his return.

“Motherfucker-” Was all he could get out before collapsing against the wall next to the door.

“Sukuna!” You yelled, rushing to his side, “Sukuna, holy shit, what happened?!” You demanded, wrapping his arm around your shoulders while you tried to lead him to the couch. You thought it would have been harder, moving a wall of muscle that much bigger than you any amount. But it turns out, adrenaline really is one hell of a drug!

“I got shot, what’s it look like happened?!” He snapped, hissing through his teeth as you placed him on the couch. Suddenly, you understood why everything in this house was red. He almost disappeared into the scarlet couch, the red consuming him, threatening to take him away. “Brutus! First Aid!” He yelled, before groaning in pain. Somewhere along the way, he lost his jacket, making it a lot easier for you to rip off his bloodied dress shirt. 

Oh man, that was bad. You weren’t even queasy around blood, but there was a lot here. Before you could get too much in your head and lose your dinner, you felt a fuzzy head nudge into your leg. You looked down to see Brutus looking up at you, first aid kit hanging from his mouth. He was officially the smartest dumb dog you had ever met. 

“Oh, Good boy Brutus!” You praised, scratching the sides of his face and his floppy ears.

“Y/n, losing blood kinda fast over here!” Sukuna reminded, quickly snapping you back into the severity of the moment.

“Right, sorry!” You yelped, opening the kit. Of course Sukuna wouldn’t have a normal first aid kit. This was one of the most extensive kits you’d seen. You pulled the latex gloves over your hands before straddling his lap, trying to get a better look at him. Three bullet wounds, one logged into his shoulder, one to his side under his rib cage, and one that just grazed his side. You could still see the bullet in the first two.

“Oh jesus..” You muttered, grabbing the long glorified tweezers from the kit, “So, uh, this is gonna hurt.” You said, mouth moving without your mind. 

“Oh, that so?!” He snapped, “I thought it was gonna feel like fucking butterfly kisses!” Oh man, he was starting to look pale.

“Okay, well now I’m not sorry for this.” You muttered, digging the tweezers into his shoulder to get the bullet. He hissed sharply through his teeth, hands finding your hips and grabbing you hard enough to bruise. This was not the scenario you thought of when you imagined Sukuna bruising your hips, but life is often funny that way.

“Okay, that’s one out.” You said as you extracted the metal. He let out a shallow breath, trying hard to regulate his breathing. 

“Fuck Y/n..” He whined, and you felt your chest burn. You wondered if that’s what he would sound like on to-NOPE not the time to think like that! 

“I’m going to get the second one now, okay?” You asked. He nodded, his body tensing against his will in anticipation. This one was deeper. You watched his abs flex as he moaned in pain, biting his lip to concentrate on anything other than the searing pain in his abdomen. This would be a lot easier if he could stop being hot for like, five seconds. “I’m sorry.” You muttered softly, wishing there was anything you could do to help with the pain.

“Don’t- Don’t.” You could tell he wanted to say more, but he just couldn’t. You finally pulled the final bullet out. You pulled the bottle of iodine out of the kit, assuming it was for disinfecting- something he was going to desperately need. You wanted to suggest a hospital, but you knew better. A hospital meant cops, and he couldn’t have that. Especially not right now. So you poured a generous amount of the iodine on his wounds, only for him to scream.

“AAH, WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?!” He yelped as a new wave of pain scorched it’s way through his body.

“I THOUGHT IT WAS A DISINFECTANT!” You yelled in panic, using a piece of gauze to try and wipe it up.

“YEAH, FOR BURNS.”

“THEN WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO USE?!”

“WATER!!” Oh yeah, that checked. The bottle of distilled water in the kit made a lot more sense now. You opened it, using that to clean his wounds instead, and using it to try and wash away some of the dried blood in the process. 

“Shit, I’m sorry! I’m not a nurse, okay!?” You tried to defend yourself in a panic. Then it dawned on you the next step in the process. “I wasn’t very good at home ec either...” You confessed.

“What does that have to do with- Oh god.” He threw his head back on the couch as he realized stitches were next. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths before pulling his head back up, his eyes meeting yours almost instantly. It was like he was searching your very soul for something, though you had no idea what he was trying to find. You wanted to shrink away, but you found yourself trapped by his gaze. 

“I trust you Y/n. Don’t fuck me up.” He finally said. You wondered how he could be so confident in anything while bleeding out on a couch, but you guessed that was a question for some other time. You nodded, grabbing the surgical needle and thread. It couldn’t be that hard, right? In one side and out the other. You had this.

He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth as you made the first sitch, digging his nails into your hips and subconsciously pulling you closer. He flinched at the second stitch, bucking his hips into yours in the process. 

“Hold still!” You chastised him. You really wished all of this was happening under different circumstances. You realized this was probably the closest you had ever been to him. Focus Y/n, focus! You finished his shoulder, before moving on to the one in his side, and finishing with the gash. You were shocked how good your stitches were when you weren’t over thinking it. Not perfect by any means, but far better than you thought. 

“Okay, the worst is over.” You said, pushing his damp hair out of his face gently. He looked at you through his eyelashes, an expression you had no hope of reading on his face. You cleared your throat before grabbing the gauze to bandage him up. He was quiet while you worked. You had almost finished with the bandages when he spoke again.

“Ryomen.” He finally said.

“What?” You asked, confusion leaking into your voice as you finished wrapping up the last wound. You looked at him.

“My name’s Ryomen.” You weren’t sure what you expected him to say after all of this, but it definitely wasn’t that. You stared at him, trying to figure out how to process any of what the fuck just happened. Was this your life now? Was this your forever? He brought a shaky hand to the side of your face, brushing away a tear you didn’t even know was there.

“Why are you cryin’ Doll?” He asked softly. His eyes didn’t have the edge you were so used to in them. Be it from the blood loss or him being grateful for your subpar nursing, all of his edges had been rounded down to soft bumps. 

“I thought I was going to lose you..” You whimpered softly. 

“Oh, Y/n,” He cooed softly, “I’m not going anywhere.” He promised, pressing his forehead to yours. “Don’t cry over me.” He lazily rubbed your cheek with his thumb, trying to comfort you despite the fact he was the one that had just got shot, multiple times. You were sure the blood loss was getting to his head, this was far too intimate. Far too sweet. The stress of the situation hit you all at once, the adrenaline leaving your body as distress took it’s place. 

You took a jagged breath in, realizing you were crying as you did so. He quietly pulled you into a hug, pressing you into his chest. The steady beat of his heart admittedly brought you some comfort, reminding you that he was alive and well-ish. You weren’t sure when you fell asleep. When you woke up in your room the next morning, you were convinced it was all a bad dream. Surely he wouldn’t have been able to lug your sleeping body to your room after all of that, right?

The faint blood stains on the couch told a different story.

🚬🚬🚬

If you thought your relationship with Ryomen was weird before, it was really weird now. Before, you were positive you had a one sided crush. Something brought on by proximity and not much else, and a feeling he most definitely did not share. Now though? Now you were sure there was something else there, and that he felt it too. It showed itself in small ways. In the way he brushed against you when you were cooking together, in the way Suguru’s job had gotten significantly harder when Ryomen had noticed how close the two of you had gotten, and in the way he had gotten more protective of you than he had ever been before. 

“Oh Suge Knight totally had 2pac killed.” Suguru said with a shrug.

“No way, that doesn’t make sense!” You argued, “Why would he call a hit on his best selling artist?”

“To take control of his catalog, duh,” He said this as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “More money to be made if you don’t have an artist to pay.”

“Yeah, except now there’s no artist to make more music and therefore more money!” you pointed out, “Besides, why would he have a car he’s in get shot up?”

“So people ask that exact question!” Suguru argued, waving his hands for emphasis.

“Do you two have nothing better to talk about than decades old conspiracy theories?” Ryomen asked as he entered the kitchen, walking up to the bar where you sat with Suguru. He always seemed annoyed when the two of you hung out together. The toxic part of your brain liked it. Satoru wasn’t far behind him, his wrist still in a brace from a months old injury. You felt a little bad when you saw it these days. It must have been a nasty shatter. 

“I’d argue there’s no better topic of conversation than decades old murder conspiracies.” Satoru said, taking a seat next to Suguru. 

“I’d argue you’re the last person I’d consider an authority on topics of conversation.” Nanami said, suddenly alerting you to his presence. That man was like a ghost, you only saw him when he wanted you to. He moved over to the fridge, pulling out a beer and using the counter to open it. A move that would get Satoru or Suguru a one way ticket to the afterlife, completely ignored by Ryomen because Nanami was useful.

“Y/n, I need you to go to your room.” Ryomen said, checking his watch. “Sooner rather than later.”

“What, why?” You asked, not a fan of being kicked out of the kitchen you now considered to be yours. 

“Because I told you to. Don’t come out until I come get you.” His tone left no room for argument or conversation. You bit your tongue, knowing better than to undermine him in front of his men, especially his lieutenants. 

“Whatever.” You groaned as you left, going and locking yourself in your room. As much as it annoyed you, this was fairly common at this point. Whenever the boys had “Official Business” you’d be banished to your bedroom until they deemed it safe for you to be let free. A very clear reminder that you were an outsider here. You weren’t in your room long before there was a knock on your door.

“Already?!” You asked.

“No.” Nanami said, “I’m here to deliver Brutus.” Confused, you went and opened the door. Sure enough, Brutus came barreling into the room as the door opened, going and jumping onto your bed. “Boss wants him to be with you.” Nanami said, as if that was going to answer your puzzled look. 

“Why? What’s going on?” You asked in a hushed tone. Nanami's eyes darted over to the staircase, making sure no one was coming up them.

“A representative of Naoya Zenin is going to be here tonight.” Zenin. You heard that name enough before to know he was one of Ryomen’s rivals, someone previously teamed up with Toji.

“What? Why is he sending someone here?”

“Fushiguru has been shorting him and his team when it comes to their cut of narcotics sales. Considering they’re the ones making all the drugs Toji sells, he’s not happy about it. So he’s looking to start a partnership with us instead.” You were thankful for Nanami. Everyone else here treated you like a delicate flower: like telling you what was going on would make you wilt. Nanami had always kept it straight with you, telling you the facts as they were. To him, you were just as involved as they all were, even if that was only due to your proximity to it all.

“And he’s not showing up himself?” You asked, remembering that Nanami had said a representative of his was coming. He shrugged.

“What can I say? The man’s a coward.” There was a knock on the door after he said that, signaling to him that he needed to get back downstairs. “Stay safe Y/n.” He said, turning to join the others.

“You too.” You responded, but you were pretty sure he didn’t hear it. You sighed as you closed your door, joining the overgrown puppy on your bed. You decided to hop on your switch, needing some way to kill the time. You weren’t sure how long you spent trying to get Moose off your island before you registered that Brutus was whining by your door. 

“What’s wrong big guy?” You asked, putting your switch down. He whined some more, shifting uncomfortably in front of the door. “Oh no, you have to potty, don’t you?” You could have sworn that dog nodded at you. Really?! They didn’t let him out first?! You wondered what to do. You knew disobeying Ryomen wasn’t acceptable, but you couldn’t just let your baby suffer! Another whimper from Brutus made the decision for you. Ryomen would understand.

You opened your door and walked Brutus down the stairs, hoping you could avoid wherever the meeting was happening. You should have known that was delusional, because the moment you walked into the kitchen, you found them all holding their meeting around the bar. Ryomen pinched the bridge of his nose the moment he saw you. Ah fuck.

“Well hello there Gorgeous, who are you?” A man you had never seen before asked. He made your stomach turn. He had his long blue hair parted into three pony tails, and long surgical scars marred his face. That wasn’t what made him so revolting though. It was his smile. It didn’t feel right. Like a monster recreating it’s prey’s mannerisms, a wolf in poorly fitted sheep’s clothing. You wished you stayed in your room.

“It doesn’t matter who she is, you’re not here to talk to her.” Ryomen said, allowing no room for conversation. You followed his lead, going and opening the back door for Brutus without acknowledging the mimic in your home. 

“Oh, don’t be rude Sukuna. Is she your wife?” It asked.

“Doesn’t matter, we’re not here to talk about my personal life.”

“Oh, don’t be like that.” He turned to you, and you wished Brutus would hurry up. “I’m Mahito sweetie. And you are?”

“I think the Boss made it clear, we should get back on topic.” Nanami said, adjusting to put his hand in his suit jacket. The Mahito creature got the hint, raising his hands in his defense.

“Okay, okay, okay. Pardon me for trying to be polite at a business meeting, I won’t do it again.”

“Good.” Ryomen said, lighting a smoke and watching closely as Brutus ran in and took his place by your side. He saw the way Brutus held back a growl. That wasn’t a good sign. “You said Zenin wanted fifty percent? That’s not going to work for us.”

“Oh? And why’s that?”

“Selling is signif-” That was all you heard as you rushed back up stairs. Once in your room, you tried to regulate your heartbeat, to clam your jittering bones. You felt like you had just encountered some old primal evil. Something so off your ancestors were warning you to be weary of it from beyond the grave. You sat next to Brutus on your bed, hiding your face in his fur to try and calm down. 

It worked for a while, until you heard him growl. You looked up to see the monster in your room. You yelped softly, instinctively backing away. You wished you hadn’t forgotten to close your door.

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you.” He said, showing that “smile” again. “I just thought it was a shame we didn’t get to properly meet back there.” Your blood felt slimy in your veins as you realized you were going to have to play nice with this guy. His business was important to Ryomen, or else he wouldn’t be in the house.

“Oh, yea I guess.” You muttered softly, petting Brutus to try and calm him.

“What’s your name sweetheart?” He asked, stepping even further into your room and closing the door behind him. Your joints suddenly felt weak with static, every fiber of your animal brain telling you you were dealing with a predator. 

“Y/n.” You responded, refusing to make eye contact with his mis-matched eyes.

“That’s a pretty name Y/n. You Ryomen’s girl, or his pet?” You didn’t like anything coming out of his mouth.

“I’m um, his roommate.” You guess, and instantly realized you guessed wrong. “Shouldn’t you be downstairs with the others?”

“Oh, they’ll be fine without me for a few minutes.” He said, and you realized he was getting closer. You stood up, only to realize he was in between you and the door. 

“Hey, uh, I really think you should go back down, they’re probably looking for-”

“I don’t care.” He scoffed, closing the distance and grabbing you. He tried to force you on the bed, but I guess that dumb ass missed the giant fuck you dog that was in that room for the sole purpose of protecting you. He didn’t get past putting his hands on your shoulders before Brutus’s teeth were in his leg, ripping muscle from bone. The scream that left Mahito was visceral, the kind that haunts people at night.

“RYOMEN!!” You yelled, pressing yourself against the wall while Brutus did his thing, jerking his head, pulling the man away from you as another horrific scream left him.

“I fucking knew it!” Ryomen snapped, ripping your attention away from the bloody scene in front of you and to the four men spilling into your room, Ryomen leading the pack.

“CALL OFF YOUR DOG!” The rag doll begged.

“Brutus, down!” Ryomen ordered. Without hesitation the Rott had let go, and had placed himself between you and your attacker in case he needed to act again.

“Oh thank-” Mahito didn’t get to finish that sentence. 

“He’s mine.” Ryomen growled, grabbing him by his scalp. “You think you can come into my house and attack my girl and get away with it?!” He snapped, taking the lit cigarette from his mouth and putting it out in Mahitos’ right eye. You’re not sure what was going to stick with you more, the smell- or the sound that came out of the monster. Ryomen threw the screaming, bloodied man, to the floor behind him. “Take him to the basement, I’ll be there soon.” He said. Without hesitation all three men acted, grabbing the begging Mahito and dragging him down the stairs.

Ryomen walked over to you, gently taking your head in his hands. “Did he hurt you?”

“No, Brutus protected me.” You hated the quiver in your voice as you said that. Ryomen looked down at the dopey dog, smiling with blood on his muzzle. He gave a small affectionate smile as he pet the dog. 

“Good boy.” He praised before turning back to you. “I’m going to go take care of the trash in the basement, then I’ll be back, okay?”

“I’m so sor-”

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong. He did. I’ll be back.” He assured you, gently patting your cheek before leaving the room you weren’t sure you felt safe in anymore. You weren’t sure how long he was gone for. At least long enough for you to clean up Brutus, and to try and clean up all the gore. At least your carpet was dark gray. You wondered how many other stains it hid, and of what variety.

You weren’t expecting how relieved you were when you finally heard a knock, opening the door to reveal a freshly showered Ryomen. You wondered what he looked like before washing the blood away, but the only image your mind conjured was him bleeding out on the couch. So you stopped wondering.

“Pack a bag, you’re leaving.” He explained. His tone was unreadable, and all it did was piss you off.

“What? What do you mean I’m leaving?!” You demanded.

“I mean wh-”

“No Ryomen, I want an actual fucking explanation.” You saw his jaw clench, as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You gotta get better about that interrupting bullshit.” He growled. “Zenin is definitely going to send someone to look for his missing boy. And when he does, he’s not going to find you here. Gojo already reserved you a hotel suite for a week, it’s temporary.” He explained as he walked away. “I’ll be waiting for you in the living room.”

You groaned as you threw together a bag. You understood his reasoning, but you were getting real sick of feeling like nothing in your life was under your control. Like you were at the mercy of a crazed mob boss. Probably because you were. You were starting to wonder if all of this was really worth not having to pay rent.

Ultimately you decided it was. Really, it was no different from existing under capitalism, and at least in this situation you could sometimes reason with your captor. You came downstairs with your bag, took at least ten minuets to say goodbye to Brutus- promising him you’d be back and that he was the best boy- and finally loaded yourself into Ryomen’s too-expensive-for-you-to-be-in car. The drive was silent, tense almost. He chain smoked out of the window, not even bothering to look at you.

“Um, are you mad at me?” You finally had to ask.

“No.” Well that didn’t sound like he wasn’t mad at you.

“You sound mad.” You pointed out.

“Good observation.” He scoffed, throwing his dead cigarette butt out the window, and immediately going to light another. 

“That’s probably not good for your lungs ya know.” His glare could have frozen the sun. “I’m just sayin’!”

“I promise you, I’d be lucky if lung cancer is what kills me.” He “assured” you.

“You promise you’re not mad at me?”

“Y/n.” He growled, “I said I’m not mad at you, didn’t I? Why can’t you just believe me?”

“Cause you sound like, really really ma-”

“That’s because I’m mad at myself, not you!” He snapped, before catching himself with a growl, pinching the bridge of his nose for a second. He took a long drag off his smoke and ashed it out the window, holding the smoke in his lungs until the burn threatened to consume him. “Just. Drop it.” He finally said as the two of you pulled into a hotel parking lot. It was honestly nicer than you were expecting! “We’re here.” He informed you, grabbing your bag as the two of you left the car. 

It was clear Sukuna was known here, considering he didn’t technically check in. He was just given a key as he passed the front desk, and told a room number. You hoped it wasn’t that easy for everyone. He ushered you to the elevator before giving you the spare key he was given. “Room 237.” He said.

“Wait, like The Shining?!” you gasped, looking at him with wide eyes.

“I-I guess?” He very clearly wasn’t expecting that reaction to informing you of your room number. “Sorry, I’m thrown, are you excited or?-”

“I just think it’s neat.” You beamed.

“...Okay.” Sukuna sighed, deciding he had more important things to worry about at the moment than if you liked your room number or not. Once inside the room, he immediately started checking for bugs, both the organic and inorganic kind. An old habit that he saw no need to kill. While he did that, you looked around the suite, familiarizing yourself with the layout.

“Hey, Ryomen? I only see one bed?” You questioned, not finding another place for him to sleep.

“Yeah? Is that a problem?” He asked, joining you in the bedroom.

“Well where are you going to sleep?” You inquired. He was confused again. 

“In my bed? At my house?” Oh hell no he wasn’t!

“What?! No way, you can’t leave me!” You protested, getting real sick of his shit.

“I assure you, I can do whatever I want,” He scoffed, “Someone needs to watch the house.”

“Fuck that, have Nanami do it! What if they find me here?!” You didn’t have Brutus, and you weren’t confident in your ability to hold your own in a fight with experienced criminals.

“No one is going to come for you here Y/n-” He tried to reason, but you were having none of it.

“Are you sure?!” You demanded, “Can you promise me that?! Can you look me in the eye and swear to me that we weren’t followed? That no one’s going to show up here looking for you and hurt me instead? That no one wants revenge for that ragdolls life?! Can you be sure?!” He was quiet. Truth be told, he couldn’t. And he had already fucked up and let you get hurt once, he wasn’t going to do it again. He let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a sigh.

“Fine, fine. I’ll call Nanami and have him-”

“I don’t want Nanami here, I want you.” You insisted. Your words hung heavy in the air, both of you trying to hear what was left unsaid in the silence. The tension was growing, begging for someone to say something, anything. Finally, Ryomen sighed again,

“Okay, I’ll stay. Let me go call Nanami so he knows to watch the house.” He said, pulling his phone out of his pocket and stepping out to call his lieutenant. He was gone for longer than you expected. You worried about what was being said, though you didn't know why you were so worried. You just felt anxious. Finally, he came back.

“Alright, everything is settled.” He let you know, “I’m going to sleep on the couch, just…get some sleep okay?” He said, gently cupping your cheek, “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” He assured you. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and nodded. 

“Okay, thank you.” You sighed, looking up at him. He was closer than you realized. He hadn’t let go of your cheek yet either. Your eyes connected, and for a split second, the whole world seemed to stop. He was close enough you could smell the coffee and cigarette scent that seemed to permanently cling to him. If you focused hard enough, you could feel the heat coming off of him. “Kiss me.” You mentally begged him, “Kiss me, just kiss me!”

“Sleep well Y/n.” He said, patting your face as he left the room. You almost screamed at him to get back here and finish what he started, but realized it probably wouldn’t do much. If he wanted to, he would have. He said it himself, he does whatever he wants. You settled for just screaming into the pillow as you flopped into the overly stuffed mattress instead. This shit sucked. 

Everything felt hot, too hot. You felt like you were caught in an inferno, feeling his hips buck into yours. You felt his warm mouth trail kisses down your neck. You twisted your hands, feeling your wrists flex under his large hand. “You’re so good for me pretty girl.” He praised in your ear.

“Ryomen-” You gasped, saying his name like a prayer.

“Say it again Y/n.”

“Ryomen..”

“Again..”

“Ro-”

“Y/n!” You jumped out of your sleep, yelping softly as Sukuna’s voice jolted you out of the dream realm. You looked around, trying to reorient yourself. You still felt flustered from your dream, and now flustered from embarrassment. 

“Ryomen?” You asked, looking at the man sitting on the side of your bed, him looking at you with concerned eyes in return. “What are you doing in here?”

“You called for me.” He informed you, and you wanted to melt away from the embarrassment. “I thought you we’re having a nightmare, so I woke you up,” He explained, “Are you okay?”

“A nightmare…yeah…” You took the excuse and ran, “Yeah, yeah I’m okay. I don’t even remember what happened in it honestly…” You lied. He sighed and rubbed his face, getting up to leave. “Wait!” You called, grabbing his hand before he could get too far. There goes your stupid body, moving faster than your brain again. “I-...I don’t want to be alone.” You explained. It was technically the truth. 

He looked down at you, quiet for a second, then grumbled. “Whatever. Scoot over.” He muttered. You smiled, happy to make room for him. He slipped himself under the covers, getting comfortable surprisingly quickly for someone in a dress shirt and slacks. For a guy that was surrounded with luxury and creature comforts, he really didn’t seem to need any of them. It didn’t seem like he was very accustomed to them either. He laid on his back, and you couldn’t help but notice how comfortable his chest looked. 

So you moved next to him, resting your head on his chest. He looked down at you, but didn’t push you away. Quite the opposite actually, he wrapped one of his arms around you, holding you close to his side. It woke up the butterflies in your stomach, sending them into overdrive. 

“Thank you.” You whispered to him. 

“For what?” He asked.

“Staying with me. Taking care of me.”

“...Di-..did you just thank me for kidnapping you?” He questioned, looking down at you as best he could and raising an eyebrow. You laughed a little at his reaction.

“I guess I did, yeah.” You giggled, trying to push yourself closer to him.

“You’re welcome?” You never failed to confuse and confound him. Maybe that’s why he liked you so much. You kept him on his toes. “You know most people aren’t okay with being kidnapped, right? It’s considered a bad thing.”

“I’m not most people.” You shrugged. “Like, yeah I see how on paper it’s bad but..I don’t know. It kinda came at the perfect time for me. I got to walk out of my shitty job, I didn’t have to deal with getting evicted, let’s not even get started on how honestly lonely I was..I don’t know. I guess it’s bad for most people, but it was a miracle for me. Is there a word for bad miracle?”

“Your stalkhom syndrome is showing.”

“I don’t think it’s that,” You chuckled, shifting to be able to look up at him, “Have you ever considered I just like being around you?”

“Why would you?” He muttered.

“Why wouldn't I?” You replied. There it was again. That warm feeling that seemed to envelop you wherever you were in Ryomen’s arms, coupled with the feeling that comes right before the lighting strikes. You used the dim moonlight fluttering in from your window to connect your eyes with his. You swore up and down his eyes glowed in low light, the unnatural red that should be so off putting only drawing you deeper into him. 

“You’re beautiful.” He whispered softly, and you felt your chest tighten. He had never said anything like that to you before. It made you feel almost giddy, your heart doing the screaming and squealing your throat wouldn’t currently allow. Before you could respond, his lips were finally on yours and it felt like fireworks were going off in every fiber of your being. You felt your blood rushing in your veins as you moved to tangle your fingers in his hair, months of tension finally snapping in a million electric sparks. 

He bit your lip, using your soft gasp to deepen the kiss. He pulled you closer to him, if that was even possible, growling softly as you tugged at his hair. It was like the two of you truly couldn’t get enough of each other, trying to make up for months worth of lost time and build up with one impossibly impassioned kiss. He rolled the two of you over so you were under him, and moved to kiss your neck. You moaned softly as he did, feeling the bruises he was biting already starting to form. You loved the idea of it, of obvious evidence you really were his girl. 

You felt your breathing get heavy as he ran his hands up your waist and under your shirt, feeling the soft skin waiting for him there. He pulled away long enough to pull your shirt over your head, leaving you in just your sleep shorts.

 “Fuck.” He whispered when he finally saw you without your top on. He took the time to truly marvel you, the way you imagined a painter would look at his magnum opus. It filled you with a confidence unlike anything else, for someone so beautiful to look at you the way Adonis had looked at Aphrodite. 

“You look so much better than I imagined.” he praised, finally finding his voice again. 

“So you’ve imagined me topless?” You teased.

“I’ve imagined more than just you topless.” He smirked, hands roaming lower on your body. You felt your breath hitch in your chest as he hooked his thumbs under your shorts. You weren’t positive this wasn’t another dream, but either way, you planned to enjoy this. Though, he was wearing far too much clothes for that. Before he could take your bottoms off, you were sitting up, connecting your lips to his again as your fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. You always thought he looked stunning in them, but right now you despised the small buttons. He chuckled a bit, pulling away from you.

“Eager, huh?” he teased, “Here, I got it.” You felt almost embarrassed as he expertly got all the buttons undone and the shirt off in the time it took you to unhook three of them. But- in your defense- he took those shirts off everyday and this was your first time taking anything off him. You bit your lip as you took in his topless form. It looked so much better not covered in blood, you could better see the tattooed skin that laid there. 

And the scars. There were a few etched into his skin, but you were most concerned with three. Your fingers went to touch one of the circular scars, feeling the puckered healed skin on his shoulder. You felt a pang of regret. If you had done better that night, would he have scarred? You didn’t have time to think before you felt his hand on yours, softly pressing your fingers into the healed wound.

“Like it?” He chuckled, “It’s one of my favorites.”

“Why?” You asked, trying not to think about him covered in blood again.

“It makes me think of you.” He said, pulling you into another heated kiss. You felt your body react to him, pressing yourself closer to him and wrapping your arms around his neck. You felt dizzy with want, your entire being buzzing with anticipation as he pressed you back into the mattress, kissing down your jaw, your neck, your torso, until he was where you wanted him the most. You bit your lip in anticipation, feeling him hook his thumbs into your bottoms, waiting for him.

“What do you want Doll?” He asked from in between your legs. 

“You.” You whimpered softly.

“I’m right here,” He reminded you, “What do you want from me?” You whined as you bucked your hips at him. He grabbed them and pressed you into the mattress, making you groan louder.

“I don’t know!” You confessed.

“Babygirl, we haven’t even done anything, you can’t be fucked stupid just yet.” he tsked. 

“I just want you to touch me...” You begged.

“I am touching you.” 

“Ryo!” You whined, wriggling under him.

“Ryo?” He snorted, “That’s cute.” In all the times you had imagined yourself fucking Ryomen Sukuna, you had never imagined he’d be this fucking infuriating. You gave a stranged whine to let him know just how upset you were. “Sorry Doll, I don’t speak whine. You’re gonna have to use your big girl words.”

“Ryomen, please!” You begged, “I- I want..fuck, I want your mouth.” You finally decided, “I want to know what your mouth feels like.” Ryomen’s grin was dark as he finally pulled down your shorts and underwear in one fluid motion.

“Good girl.” he praised, and before you could properly react, he was running his tongue from your entrance to your clit, wrapping his lips around your bundle of nerves and giving it a sharp suck. Excitement exploded in your chest as your hands rushed to his hair, trying to find anything to ground yourself. He growled as you pulled him closer to you. 

Every pass of his tongue sent another wave of euphoria coursing through your core, leaving you soft under him. You brain officially checked out for the night, rolling your hips against his face to chase your high. You moaned his name shamelessly, losing your ability to regulate your volume in the pleasure he was giving you. This volume regulation problem worsened as he pushed two fingers into your weeping cunt, curling up and successfully gracing the sweet spot inside you. Some part of your brain was sure the next room over knew Ryomen’s name now.

And it was driving him crazy. Ryomen couldn’t take his eyes off of you. The way your eyes screwed shut, the way the sweat cascaded down your body, the way his name sounded so fucking pretty falling off your lips. He spent a lot of time fucking his hand to the thought of fucking you with his mouth, among other things, and his imagination couldn’t come close to creating the magic of the real thing. He had to use his free hand to palm himself through his slacks, desperate for any sort of relief. The only thing he wanted more than to fuck you in that moment was to taste you as you came on his face. He needed it more than he needed to breathe.

“R-ryo, I- close..” You whined, your mind struggling to conjugate a proper sentence. That’s what he liked to hear. Your head was full of dopamine and ecstasy, your entire body buzzed with anticipation and need. You felt like you were barreling to the edge of the earth with no hope of stopping. You heard him moan as you pulled his hair again, pulling him closer as you rode his face straight to your climax, feeling the ecstasy explode in your veins. You felt like you were floating in a sea of pleasure, except the sea was in the middle of a tropical storm and every cutting wave that hit you left you weaker than the last. Your vision went white hot, and you were struggling to keep your breath. 

“Fuck, fuck, Ryo! Ryomen! So good Ryo..” You chanted his name like a witch trying to evoke a long dead deity. And he couldn’t get enough of it, eating you out throughout your high as he licked up everything you had to give him and more. He didn’t let up until your legs were trembling around his head. He kissed bruises in your shaking thighs as he pulled away, wiping his mouth and looking at you with dark eyes. Something primal held behind pupils blown wide with lust. He wiped his mouth with a wicked grin. 

“You taste so good Doll,” He praised, slipping his fingers out of your cunt and into your mouth. You started sucking without thinking, grabbing his hand to keep him there as you licked his fingers clean. “Glad you agree.” He chuckled darkly, feeling his dick twitch under his clothes. His entire body felt like it was on fire, and the only thing his mind could focus on was imagining how pretty you’d look trying to take his dick. 

“How ya feeling Dollface?” He asked, leaning back as he undid the button on his pants. 

“So good..” You muttered, your mind slowly finding it’s way back to your body in the sea of endorphins it was swimming in. 

“Yeah?” He chuckled, pulling you under him as he lined himself up with your weeping cunt, “Wanna feel even better?” He asked. Well he was confident, wasn’t he? You nodded, looking up to see what he was working with. You probably should have been more intimidated than you were, but at that moment all you wanted was to make him feel as good as he had made you feel. 

“Yea, I want do.” You confirmed, and he smiled smugly.

“Good girl.” He praised as he slowly sunk into you. You felt like you were being ripped apart in the most beautiful way. Your cunt weeping as it made accommodations for him. Your hands flew to his back, digging into him with enough time to feel him shudder on top of you from just how good you felt. You’d count that as a win. 

“Fuck, it’s like you were made for me pretty girl,” He moaned, dragging himself out just to push back in, gracing your g-spot as he did. You moaned under him as he did, feeling yourself melt into a puddle of need and pleasure. “So fucking good.” He purred. 

He tried to take it easy, to keep in mind that you had just came hard and were probably sensitive. He couldn’t help himself though. The way you pulled him in deeper and deeper with every thrust threw any semblance of sense out of his mind. All he could think about was how good you felt under him, and how fucking pretty every sound that came out of you was. He wanted to hear them all.

You were happy to make them all for him too, moaning pathetically under him with every push of his cock, every brush against your g-spot. You could feel your blood catch fire in your veins as he fucked you, felt yourself getting lost in the pleasure he was giving you. You felt electrified, your nervous system somehow fried and on high alert all at the same time. All you could think of was Ryomen, Ryomen, Ryomen as you felt a string of tensions knotting itself over and over in your stomach.

He pulled you impossibly closer to him, folding you into a mating press as he chased both of your highs. You instantly knew you weren’t going to last long in this new position, and all but screamed his name as you pulled at his hair. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Ryomen!” You yelled as the string inside of you finally snapped, all of the euphoria it was holding back hitting you like a god damn train. You felt your body shake, tendrils of pleasure lashing out from your core to your fingers and toes. It was like a whole body reset, your brain turning into a puddle of electrified endorphins.

He thought he was going to last longer than he ultimately did. But the way your cunt clenched around him coupled with the way your face screwed shut and how needy you sounded as you said his name- he was coming undone inside within a few more strokes, fucking the two of you through both of your climaxes before stilling, just barely managing not to collapse on top of you. 

There was a quiet that settled over the two of you in your after glow as you both caught your breath. You whined as he pulled out, going from feeling so full to so empty and hating it. He just chuckled softly, falling next to you and pulling you into his side.

“So,” You started softly, “Am I still the property of The Syndicate orr?” You asked. He chuckled softly, remembering what he said to you on the night you met. 

“No, not the Syndicate. You’re mine.” He confirmed for you.

“Isn’t that like…kinda the same thing?” You asked. He rolled his eyes. Of course you couldn't let him have his cute moment. 

“Good night Y/n, we’ll talk in the morning.” He mumbled, deciding the best move would be to try and get some sleep. The two of you were going to have a lot to talk about in the morning. 

[henrioo]

°•*⁀➷ MINE TO CLAIM: ZORO

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : In a full moon night your werewolf boyfriend can be a little wild and uncontrollable, good that you don't mind helping him with all his needs.

꒰ WARNINGS ꒱ : AMAB! READER, MALE! READER, NSFW, MLM, HOMO SEX, rough sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, werewolf stuff (full moon, heat, knot, biting/mark, mate), impregnation talk (Zoro wants to make the reader a dad), breeding kink, the reader CAN'T get pregnant but Zoro doesn't care

꒰ WC ꒱ : 1,1k

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : So again, minors and fem DNI, you be blocked and blah blah, I'm not in a good mental state to post a long notes, so sorry. The thing I can say is I will try to finish the ask because I am already taking too long, and I will try to finish translating my other stuff to post, I hope this helps me get better, thanks for all the support and enjoy!

You held tighter to the pile of pillows, there was padding everywhere thanks to Zoro's claws that had ripped some pillows and cushions from the nest he built. You thought that nests were things for omegas in fanfictions, but it seemed that in reality all wolves had one. Since Zoro no longer slept in the forest now that you were dating, and you forbade him to sleep in the middle of the woods when you had a house in perfect condition, it wasn't strange to realize that he really missed something more traditional from his werewolf origins.

You helped him build the nest with lots of love, using a small spare room in your house, the two of you were able to build a nest and a small den for when Zoro felt like snuggling, following his instincts in a more natural place for his breed. It was basically a mess of sheets, your and Zoro's clothes, as well as several pillows and cushions to make you comfortable. You also covered the window with black plastic so that it would always be darker and more cozy for both of you.

Usually, you and Zoro just laid there cuddling, especially when he was in his full form. Sometimes you ate and watched movies on your cell phone, nothing too strange or exotic. That was until Zoro finally asked you to marry him and asked if he could mark you as his mate, saying he couldn't bear to go out with you on the street anymore, knowing that you didn't have his mark or scent. After some explanations about this ritual, you accepted both requests with great emotion, deciding to become Zoro's become his fiancé and also his companion.

Since the branding ritual, a deep bite on your neck that bled and left you in pain for weeks, unable to even turn your neck, every full moon, his nest, which was once just a spare room for snuggles, has become something much more… Intimate.

“Zoro!” You screamed his name for the thousandth time that night, your ass was high in the air and if it weren't for Zoro's big hands with huge claws holding you by your thighs, your wobbly legs would have already given up on you.

Your entire body was burning, and you had already cum so many times that your dick was so sensitive and Zoro hadn't even fucked you yet, he was too busy with foreplay. He was now licking your hole like he was sucking on ice cream, sticking his huge tongue so deep you could see stars, you were already drooling against the nest and every scent of your wolf was so intoxicating that you felt drunk and sick from his pheromones.

“Mine, mine, mine” Zoro didn't speak properly during mating season, he usually growled and released small compliments or affirmations of possession. He tried to show all his feelings just through actions, not being able to trust his tongue to express all his desires.

He finally pulled away from your hole, which was now dripping with saliva, and enjoyed the view for a bit. You were squeezing around nothing, and you were stretched and wet enough to take him. Zoro was always twice as careful during the full moon, knowing that for a human it would be much more difficult and painful to take a werewolf's knot completely. He quickly bit your ass a little hard and slapped the other side, then he stood up and leaned over you.

He placed kisses on your back, feeling you relax as he began to smell your neck and hair, making you shiver and let out a soft moan. He quickly began rubbing his nose against the huge bite mark on your neck and licking it affectionately, feeling pride fill his chest knowing that you were completely his and anyone could know that.

“Zoro… Please” you begged whimpering for him, you were already so tired and overstimulated that you were afraid you would pass out before the wolf was able to stick his dick in you. “I want your cock, please, please, I need it so much” you begged him, begged him to finally satisfy you both and not prolong this pleasurable torture any longer.

“Do you want my cock?” He growled in your ear as he grabbed your waist with one of his hands, his claws scratched you and you knew you would be sore all over the next morning. “Do you want my knot? Do you want me to fill it completely?” He pumped his own dick while rubbing the head of it against his crying hole, which was trying his best to suck him inside. Your own cock began to twitch, getting excited to cum again.

“Yes! I want your knot! I need it, Zoro!” You screamed without any shame, knowing that Zoro loved it when you became uncontrollably vocal, shouting how much you loved and needed him “I need you to fill me Zoro! Please! I need your cum inside me!” You cried shamelessly trying to rub your ass against him.

“Shit… You’re my needy boy, aren’t you? I'm going to fill you so good, I'm going to fill you completely... You're going to take my fucking knot and I'm going to fill you with my cum again and again until you're full and pregnant with my puppies” he breathed heavily into your you heard as he began to slowly thrust into you, giving you time to get used to his cock which was bigger and more swollen due to the full moon “You want this, don’t you? Carry my puppies? Being the daddy of our pack” he growled at the idea.

"Yes! I want to! Please, Zoro! I want to carry your puppies! Oh!” You screamed as he thrust harder, shoving a large portion of his cock in at once. “I’ll be a good dad, I promise!” You didn't even have control over what you were screaming and begging for anymore, you just needed him.

“I know, I know you will” You both knew it was impossible for you to get pregnant, after all you were both amab men, but that didn't lessen the fantasy of Zoro filling you up until you were pregnant with his puppies. “I’m going to fill you so fucking good you’ll be dripping”

And when Zoro rammed the rest of his cock in, pressing into your prostate so hard that you came immediately, feeling your legs giving out and your eyes rolling back to their fullest as you could feel his cock so deep and swollen inside you that you definitely had a bulge in your stomach, you knew that was definitely a promise.

[hyperfixationgoddess]

Inspired by the fanfiction link above; kind of an aftermath scenario. I love the idea of Wayne being extra protective of Steve after Steve saved Eddie's life, and getting even more protective of him after he and Eddie start dating. What can I say, I'm a Wayne Munson simp. Also, while I might not have a lot of respect for him anymore, see if you can find the John Mulaney quote I slipped in here! @artiststarme I hope you like it!

Finally Protected

Wayne Munson was a lot of things. A salty grump, a loner, an uncle, a father.

But most of all, he was loyal.

Once someone earned his loyalty, it lasted for life. He would stick with them through thick and thin, and defend them against anyone. And against all odds, Steve Harrington had earned his loyalty.

Anyone with eyes could see that Steve was head over heels in love with Wayne's boy. Which was why he could not comprehend why it was Steve who was on the receiving end of all these goddamn shovel talks.

Found family, my ass, he thought to himself. Even that Buckley girl had given Steve a talk. Were they all stupid? They'd known Steve, really known him, for much longer than Wayne or Eddie had. How could they still think that Steve would hurt anyone, much less Eddie?

The worst thing about it was, Wayne knew that Steve would forgive them. It didn't matter how many times the Party hurt him, Steve would just shrug it off, like his feelings didn't matter. And considering Steve had already earned the loyalty of the Munsons, Wayne had a problem with that.

A big problem.

The day after Eddie apologized and the two boys made up, Wayne dropped by to talk to Steve. Even as he settled on the couch in the living room, he could see the tension in Steve's shoulders.

"You can relax, kiddo," he said. "I'm not mad at ya. Not here to give you another goddamn shovel talk, either."

Steve's eyebrows rose. "Really?"

Wayne nodded. "Eddie's an adult now, and he knows how to take care of himself. No, I'm here to talk about the rest of the Party."

Steve looked confused. "What do you mean?"

Wayne sighed. "Boy, you need to set some boundaries with these people."

"Boundaries?"

"Steve, I know this ain't the first time these folks have hurt you. Lord knows Eddie has gone on many rants about how the kids keep calling you an idiot, or how the Wheeler girl cheated on you after 'she ripped your heart out of your chest and stomped on it.' Eddie's words, by the way."

Steve looked uncomfortable, now. "Well, the kids are just messing around. And I shouldn't have tried to hold on to Nancy the way I did."

"The kids are old enough now to learn how to mess around without being disrespectful. And Nancy should have been honest with you instead of leading you on," Wayne countered.

Steve still looked apprehensive. Wayne sighed (again-he'd been doing that a lot lately).

"Look, Steve, I'm not saying you have to cut them out of your life. I know that'd be devastating for ya. But just letting them hurt you, and not saying a word about it... You deserve better than that."

Steve's eyes misted over. "No, I don't," he choked out. When Wayne opened his mouth to protest, the kid shook his head rapidly. "You don't understand, Mr. Munson, I was a really bad person in high school. The things I said about people... I'd tear them down without a second thought. I-"

Sensing that Steve was about to go on a self deprecating tangent, Wayne cut him off.

"Did you know that Eddie used to rant about you?"

This seemed to startle the kid. "Um... What?"

Wayne chuckled. "Yeah, I won't go into details, but he was very vocal about how much you bugged him... But then, out of nowhere, in 1984, he stopped. I asked him why, because I was curious. Do you know what he said?"

Steve gulped. "What?"

"He said, and I quote, 'he hasn't actually been an asshole in a while, and now that everyone else is trying to kick him down, I don't want to contribute to that.' You made a change, Steve. Not many people are willing to do that. Hell, most ain't even willing to believe that there's something wrong with em. But you were. I'll keep telling you, as many times as I have to for it to sink in. You don't deserve to be hurt."

The tears Steve had been holding back this whole time finally seemed to overwhelm him. Wayne scooched over to him and wrapped him in a hug.

"You've had to be strong for so long, kid. Let me look after you, yeah? Lord knows you deserve protection just as much as Eddie does."

Steve didn't answer, but he nodded. That was enough for now.

--0--

Wayne had been pacing around Steve's living room for about ten minutes when he finally heard the doorbell ring. It would appear that this group traveled as a pack, because every single member of the party was there.

That is, every member but two.

"Mr. Munson?" Dustin asked confusedly. "What's going on? Where's Steve?"

Wayne grunted. "All of ya just come in. I'll explain once you get settled. And I'm sayin this now, I expect you all to listen."

When everyone was sitting around the living room, Hopper was the first to speak up. "So Wayne, what's going on? Where's the kid?"

Wayne scowled. "If you mean Steve, he's at my trailer with Eddie. If that were big enough, we'd be there instead, but there's too many of you, and I need you all to hear this."

The Buckley girl looked extremely confused. "Why would you want us here if Steve isn't?"

Wayne took a deep breath in an attempt to control his anger. "Because it would seem to me that you lot forget just how much that boy does for all of you."

Joyce furrowed her brow. "Um... What?"

"You folks got a lot of nerve, acting like Steve is the one who's gonna hurt Eddie. He ain't a ticking time bomb, and you gotta stop treating him like it. After everything he's done for you lot, it astounds me how you can still treat him like crap. Found family, my ass."

Nancy Wheeler opened her mouth with an angry expression, but Wayne cut her off. "Don't go acting so high and mighty, Wheeler. Did you even realize that Steve still flinches when anyone uses the word bullshit? You tore his heart out of his chest and stomped on it, and then slept with another guy before you even broke up with Steve properly."

That seemed to shut her up. Good.

"And as for you kids, how many times has Steve taken a beating for you? The only ones that I've seen being respectful to him are Will and El. The rest of you... You've all been the victims of bullies, according to Steve. So explain to me, how in the hell can you justify the way you all treat him on a daily basis? Insulting his intelligence, bossing him around, disregarding the work he's done to change, all of that has to stop."

The kids tried to protest, but Wayne was on a roll. He rounded on Joyce, Hopper, and Robin. "Hopper, Joyce, Eddie is my kid. He ain't your responsibility. You had no right to give Steve that goddamn shovel talk as if he were still the guy he was in high school. And you, Miss Buckley? You call yourself Steve's best friend. You might wanna try acting like it.

"Now, I know that Steve sees you all as family. That's the only reason I ain't told him to cut you folks out of his life. But Steve has got no standard for how he should be treated as a human being. Whether you lot realize it or not, you've all taken advantage of that. He thinks that he deserves it, but I've seen the effort he makes every day to be better than he was. Most won't even accept that they need to be better, and it would seem that you folks are a part of that majority. I know that he deserves better, and I ain't even known him a whole year. That says something about you, don't it?

"Now, you are going to give Steve as much space as he needs. You won't ask him to babysit, you won't ask him to chauffeur you around, you won't ask him for money. You'll take some time to think about how you've treated him. And when you feel you're ready to apologize-not because of guilt or obligation, but because you mean it-you tell me. I'll let Steve know. But only when Steve is ready to see you all again, and not a second more, will I let you talk to him."

Wayne shared a vicious smile with El and Will, and then looked at the rest of them with a raised eyebrow.

"Now get the hell out of my future son-in-law's house."

Fin

[hungiehipo]

Macdennis timeline

Macdennis

The 16 season long situationship filled to the brim with sociopathic tendencies, mutual abuse, and disorganized attachment between a man burdened by Catholic guilt who doesn't want love unless it hurts and a deeply dissociated man who can't be authentic unless he's immersed in a facade. And they were roommates.

What can be said that hasn't been said before? Probably nothing... still here's this.

S1-S4 PRE-MACDENNIS

This is before Mac and Dennis find themselves unwittingly thrust into a relationship neither is aware of. There is a homoerotic undertone, albeit usually as more of a joke than anything else. Neither has realized that their feelings for the other goes beyond friendship.

(Season 1 ep 1) Famous tequila scene.

(season 3 ep 4) Mac says I love you to Dennis.

(season 3 ep 15) gang dances their asses off macs dance pantomiming blowing Dennis.

(season 4 ep 1) Man hunters. Dennis puts his balls in Mac's mouth when he's sleeping, and mac shaves his pubes and glues them to Dennis' face.

(season 4 ep 4) Charlie asks Dennis if he still gets the feeling Mac wants to bang them, and that's why Mac makes project badass, Dennis agrees.

(season 4 ep 13) Nightman cometh. Mac gets a boner when Dennis' character pantomimes sex with him in the play. Dennis rips macs heart out (this comes back later)

S5-S7 MACDENNIS INTENTIONAL

Season 5 Macdennis hits like a truck. Dennis has feelings and they are BIG. We the audience witness a masterful display of homoerotic desire wrapped in a stunning amount of cognitive dissonance until "breakup" where Dennis is forced to confront the reality of his feelings. Following this crucial turning point, we are treated to a series of back and forth assertions of no-homo, feelings getting hurt, and lashing out. In order, we get Dennis introducing the dennis system, mac fighting gay marriage, Dennis getting married and kicking Mac out of the apartment, and finally Dennis getting a divorce.

Things are notably different between them post-divorce, marked by a mutual retreat from both Mac and Dennis. There's a shared reluctance to appear overly invested in each other romantically. This dynamic persists into Season 7, where Mac and Dennis noticeably maintain a considerable distance compared to previous seasons. In my honest opinion, this season exhibits the least Macdennis of any. Dennis being unhappy with Mac's weight gain likely contributes to this.

(Season 5 episode 1) Dennis suggests that they pretend to be gay married realtors. Some will say that being gay married was not essential to the scheme. Some would even say that to sell the being married thing Dennis did NOT have to be that touchy touchy. Source of baby boy nickname that has penetrated every corner of AO3 macden fanfiction.

(season 5 episode 8) PADDY'S THONG DUDE!!! PADDY'S THONG! I'm not wearing these because I'm comfortable I'm wearing them cause i wanna turn YOU on, you know what I'm saying??? you get it???

Mac jerks off a shotgun and blows its load in a kneeling dennis' gaping mouth.

(season 5 episode 9) They break up. In the podcast they say that this is a romcom. Dee points out that they act like an old married couple. Realization dawns on dennis's face and he proceeds to freak the hell out. Why? I mean... he knew it was true. We learn that they have a weekly movie night. Mac is jealous of video store clerk guy. We learn that they check in. Deleted scene at the end has Dennis blurting out that Mac has "beautiful lips" and again looking horrified.

(season 5 ep 10) Immediately after break up Dennis introduces his fool proof system for attracting WOMeN with big BIG BOOB for SEX.

(season 6 ep 1) Mac goes on a rampage against gay marriage after just last season being fake gay married to dennis. Dennis immediately gets married and kicks Mac out of the apartment. (Dennis also says he doesn't "have feelings", which Mac internalizes and it comes back in season 12)

(season 6 ep 2) dennis immediately divorces said woman and lets his boy toy (his words) come home.

radio silence all of season 7 except....

(season 7 ep 1) They go to the doctor, mac tries to carry dennis out bridal style. Dennis eats a chimichanga with Mac (romantic).

(season 7 ep 6) cold open, Dennis is holding Macs forearm while they watch the TV.

-season 7 we also learn that Mac slept with Dennis' prom date and it was very easy.

S8-S9 The kiss, the date, and the platonic naked wrestling shower scene

I believe this is the point where Mac starts to get the feeling something is off. (Again, Dennis realized in season 5). Mac has far more dissonance about it though, he like just wants to be best bros with Dennis for life, cause Dennis is like soooo cool. He is definitely not in love with Dennis he just loves Dennis like, as a blood brother. HE IS NOT GAY BECAUSE THAT IS A SIN. HE SERIOUSLY LOVES GOD A LOT.

In Season 8's Dines out Dennis delivers a speech wherein he admits that he thinks of Mac as a man who knows exactly who he is. Season 9's Mac day shows the total elimination of this belief after a full day filled with Macs self hating homophobia contrasting with his out and proud cousin "country mac".

(Season 8 ep 2) Whelp, God only knows how we ended up here after a drought like season 7, but 8 kicks off with a bang with an out of nowhere kissing attempt from Mac… right in front of Charlie too. By the look on Dennis' face I'm going to guess this has never happened before. I genuinely wonder what compelled him to do this…. like….is he just always thinking about it and forgot hes not supposed to do it for real? was it instinct?

(Season 8 ep 6) Dennis deals with emotional numbness, and nothing he tries makes him feel anything until the end of the episode where he feels too much after seeing his dead mother. This is not overtly macdennis but I think it demonstrates how he struggles with emotion and why Mac believes that Dennis does not have feelings.

(season 8 episode 9) Mac and Dennis are going on a fancy dinner date every single month. Monthly dinner and weekly movie nights.... anyway. Mac is upset that Dennis won't say something nice to him so Dennis does a speech to the whole restaurant. Yes he did kinda do it to dunk on frank and charlie. Yes he loved the attention. I think he meant what he said.

(season 8 episode 10) Dennis gets turned on by Mac totally intellectually dominating him while giving his anti science presentation. Also in the car at the end Mac was flirting.

(season 9 episode 3) Mac day. Praise God. Dennis is drowning in a sea of Macs delusion. Mac believes himself to be totally badass and not at all gay while repeatedly demonstrating the opposite. Country Mac shows Dennis what Mac could be if he was all the things he said he was and just embraced that he was gay. Dennis resents Mac.

(season 9 episode 6) saves the day. Macs fantasy involves Dennis wailing over his corpse, proclaiming his love. Dennis' fantasy is interesting, revealing his fear that Mac would abandon him the moment his sexual appeal fades. He envisions the possibility of being loved for more than his sexual abilities, yet his declaration of love precludes Jackie being hit by a car, leading to the loss of her breasts, and Dennis choosing to leave her. Lot to unpack here.

(season 9 episode 8) Mac and Dennis are trying to catch a rat. Mac tries to bash the rat, but Dennis says that its not about brute force, its about seduction. He turns on some romantic music and they both sway back and forth, looking into each others eyes, Mac takes a step forward, but Dee enters the room and the second dennis sees her he spins around and walks away.

I also feel the need to point out that Mac and Dennis went to high school together, and Macs nickname in high school was....well... Ronnie the rat.

(season 9 episode 9) Mac writes into the script of lethal weapon a scene where he and Dennis, I kid you not, wrestle naked in a shower. If you can call it wrestling... though it's more accurately described as an opportunity for an intense, naked embrace.

(season 9 episode 10) Cute food fight scene. Their apartment burns down.

s10-11 Out of their natural environment

Following the incineration of their shared home, macdennis moves in with Dee and all three of them hate it so so much.

(season 10 episode 1) Dennis looks at Mac like he wants to eat him (4 min 24 seconds) Mac says wait Dennis don't go and Dennis turns like he's expecting.... I don't know.

(season 10 episode 5) Mac and Dennis take turns watching and jacking off to creampie videos. Some will say they could just find their own porn, however I think this is one of the numerous creative ways they've found to have a sex life with each other.

(season 10 ep 3) Dennis is diagnosed with BPD.

(season 10 ep 6) The gang embarks on a journey of independence, only to discover that their lives are intricately woven together. For better or worse they will never escape each other, and will likely live this way until they die.

(season 10 episode 10) Dennis creates an entire fake cult to get Mac to do things he wants him to do. Says Macs been looking so good so sexy lately *manipulative*

(season 11 episode 4) Mac turns off the video Dee made about Dennis being raped by the librarian.

(season 11 episode 5) Macdennis play house. Mac asks Dennis if he can hear the beep too, Dennis gaslights him and says no, meanwhile getting increasingly agitated by the pool filter. It's already been explained more better by others but basically this is a metaphor for Mac wanting Dennis to acknowledge what has been happening between them, while Dennis adamantly avoids doing so. Instead, he channels his frustrations into unrelated problems.

Dennis hates going to work alone all day and Mac hates staying home, which could easily be fixed by having Mac come to work with him. Instead, Dennis' solution is a "honey-do list" (a list of chores a man would give his wife) and a dog, which Mac names DENNIS JR. (parallel to Dennis' real kid who is named Brian Jr. ) This kind of relationship paralleling is a recurring theme; for example in gets romantic, double life, and celebrity booze).

In the beginning of the episode Dennis wants to listen to Bryan Adams in the car. At the end of the episode Mac confronts him by saying "everything I do I do it for you, and everything you do you do it for yourself". (referencing the title of a very romantic Bryan Adams song)

dennis says he hates him

(season 11 ep 6) Mac asks Frank if he thinks Dennis hates him, because he just wants him to think he's cool and he puts so much work into this relationship and *unintelligible* (seriously if anyone know what Mac is saying when Frank spaces out please message me)

(season 11 ep 8) Dennis also knows about the gay bar

(Season 11 ep 10) 🎵 Amazing Grace how sweet the sauce 🎵

Mac comes out. When they play fake dinner Mac talks about him and Dennis' future home where they will have dinner parties and touches Dennis' hand. Confused, Dennis questions the idea of it being "their" home, seemingly operating under the misconception that he and Mac might eventually part ways and not continue living together.

Mac prays to god that they be saved and after being rescued he goes back into the closet.

s12 Mac claims to be gay and Dennis leaves the state of Pennsylvania

Season 12 is my favorite season!

Mac comes out, has a gay dream, gives Dennis a present, tries to insert himself as 2nd father of Dennis' child, and is swiftly abandoned.

Things start to get a little too real for Dennis, and hes just a little too vulnerable. Perfectly it turns out he has an opportunity to live the typical nuclear family lifestyle he's envisioned for himself and escape all his troubles.

(season 12 episode 6) Gay Mac rules! rich gay Mac!

The watershed moment wherein Mac comes out as gay for real this time. Dennis is beyond shocked.

(season 12 episode 7) Mac fully grasps that his feelings for Dennis are romantic after having a dream where Dennis kisses him. Upon waking he goes to find Dennis. Again Dennis dances towards him and leans in, Macs eyes light up thinking that his dream is coming true but Dennis slams the door in his face.

(season 12 ep 8) Dennis wants to completely ignore Valentines day because he doesn't think he has anybody who really cares about/loves him. Everyone in the gang openly states that they don't think he has feelings.

At the end of the ep. Mac has Dennis open a crate, which turns out to be an RPG (something that Dennis thinks is awesome and talks about all the time), and he tears up, he's incredibly touched. When Mac says there is no rocket (rendering the gift effectively useless) Dennis says he doesn't care, he loves it. Mac figured out the one thing he wanted more than anything else in the world and got it for him. This is likely not referring to the RPG but instead to the fact that he wanted someone to show him that they love him/care about him.

(season 12 ep 10) Dennis is revealed to have a son with Mandy, a woman who he had sex with on his layover from the wade boggs episode. To get him out of this jam Mac suggests they pretend to be in a relationship. Dennis, reluctantly going along with the plan, tells Mandy he sleeps with women but he is emotionally invested with Mac. When she is fine with it and says she wouldn't mind Brian Jr. having two dads, Mac enthusiastically agrees to parent Dennis' kid with him. When Dennis asks Mac why he would agree to that, since they are not a couple, Mac replies that he thought they could just keep pretending.

Mac wins a bet and gets to refurnish the apartment. He surprises Dennis by recreating their old apartment down to the last detail, save his own bedroom, which he leaves empty. He only buys Dennis a bed because he is hoping Dennis will go along with continuing to share a bed like they did at Dee's.

At the end of the episode Dennis announces he is leaving to go raise his son in North Dakota with Mandy. Nobody tries to stop him.

S13-14 DENNIS IS COMING BACK HOT

Dennis' 2 most angry/upset seasons.

In the season 13 promos Dennis is like a ghost, watching the gang laughing and talking without him. At some points they seem to notice that he's there, but just don't care. He is the only one spooked by the weird things happening around the bar.

In season 13 Dennis' returns and feels as though he is not important or needed by his friends. Mac has a journey of self-discovery, coming to terms with his sexuality and finding his identity as a gay man. Mac relies on Dennis to tell him what to do, desperate to please him, but Dennis wants Mac to take control and take care of him. Dennis only wants the illusion of control.

(Season 13 episode 1) Mac orders a sex doll of Dennis and swears he isn't blowing his loads into it. Dennis comes back.

(Season 13 episode 2) Mac finds a heart shaped lock clue whilst doing an escape room. Dennis says they should keep it between themselves.

(season 13 episode 4) Dennis holds a seminar where he publicly declares his own heterosexuality and lack of interest in Mac.

just gonna leave these quotes-

dennis- "some of you just haven't been careful enough, so youre asking yourself what can I do to save myself now. You gotta clean up your act otherwise you're going down, and you're gonna take me down with you and I ain't going down. You understand? I've been telling you this for years but you refused to listen"

----

mac- "and we should probably stop harassing them"

dennis, replying to Mac- " uh well you know, one step at a time we don't want the whole system to collapse" (but Macs only crime was being too open with his feelings for Dennis)

(season 13 ep 5) Dennis opens the floor for questions about his absence. He totally gets that everyone was giving him some space and respecting his privacy, and he's ready to talk about it now but...they just don't actually care....at all... (including Mac)

(season 13 episode 7) Its my personal interpretation that all of clip show happens in Dennis' mind in an episode of dissociation. He imagines that Mac decided to come with him to north Carolina. He imagines being confronted about why he would want to live with Mac if he "hates" him so much.

(season 13 episode 10) Mac comes out to his father in a beautiful interpretive dance and is rejected.

(season 14 episode 1) Mac tries to get into Dennis' good graces again by staging a scheme to get Dennis laid just like old times. Interestingly, Dennis isn't all that interested in banging. When its not working out with the woman, Dennis decides that it's because the leads are actually Mac and the husband. They can't seem to figure out that the leads are really each other.

Mac and Dennis are paralleled by the married couple while Charlie and Frank are mirrored by the father son duo..

"If you'd just give us a chance, we could tell a love story for the ages, a gay GAY ass love story". WE ARE READY AND SO WILLING

(season 14 episode 5) "Bathrooms at zoos are, like, big Grindr spots for closeted dads." (also refer to Macs super long pining text messages)

(season 14 ep 6) "all that for a whistle, I wonder what you'd do for a biscuit" I really don't understand how but apparently this episode really did happen and it wasn't in someones dream or anything like that??

(season 14 episode 10) Dennis says to Mac it's time to end the game. This could be interpreted as being about their 14 season song and dance, and would be backed up by the fact that the next season shows Mac completely backing off.

s15-s16 Acceptance and regret

mac tries to move on, Dennis misses his baby boy

(season 15 episode 1) We get some cute broke back mountain Macdennis. They play guitar and sing a love song they wrote together, looking into each other's eyes.

(season 15 ep 4) There's a subtle moment that's easy to miss. Dennis pats Mac's hand when they are talking to Charlie and Mac looks down at it, taking a deep breath.

(season 15 ep 5) Dennis has COVID and Mac isn't concerned, in fact he is irritated that Dennis wont admit he's sick. This is a big change from the last couple of seasons where Mac is desperate to take care of Dennis.

(season 16 episode 1) Mac and Dennis throw away all of their furniture including their beds. They now share an inflatable bed/couch and sleep together in it (just a couple seasons ago Dennis was absolutely refusing to sleep in the same bed as Mac). They are touching so much in the bed. Dennis is concerned for Mac because he has been continuously consuming nuts that he is allergic to (there's a metaphor here) and is heavily wheezing. Dennis gently places two fingers on Macs neck to check his pulse.

If Dennis did not want to sleep in the bed with Mac he would have gone and bought another inflatable bed. He would have made Mac sleep on the ground. He would have gone to sleep at Dees house. He wanted to be in that bed with Mac.

(season 16 episode 4) Dennis creates a fake dating profile under the alias of "Johnny". He buys Mac extra large anal beads to put inside of him at all times, and turns them on to signal to Mac to meet him at a hotel. He says he did it to....get him out of the house? and to get Mac to....buy him crab?

Dennis looks so devastated when Mac says he's in love with Johnny. I kinda wonder if it's the idea that Mac could love someone else that upsets him... or if he's reacting to Mac telling him he is in love with him to his face?

This is also the episode where we learn that Dennis has a fool proof method for attracting men. When Mac and Dee ask why he has this system he just shushes them.

(season 16 episode 5) The relationship between Malcom and his dad is a parallel of Mac and Dennis's relationship. The speech at the end to me seems like its hinting that Mac knows more/ has more control and power than is let on.

NEW INFORMATION JUST DROPPED I have just been made aware of the actual parallel between Malcom and the dad possibly being Dennis and Frank.

(season 16 episode 8) Nightmare! Nightmare! Nightmare!

Dennis takes a mental health day. Some people really hated this episode but I really liked it. Mac is putting coal in a pressure cooker to make diamonds. Dennis rips the CEO's (who is wearing a Hawaiian shirt like we've seen Mac wear) heart out, and squeezes it so hard it turns into a diamond and he eats it. This is a direct parallel to the nightman cometh where he also rips Macs heart out.

*edit to add* The director of this episode (who did not write the ep but still was involved in its creation obviously) Heath Cullens, in a reddit QA when asked if this was a nod to dayman replied "Nope. I think pretty much a coincidence." which I think is a total missed opportunity tbh.

This was all in Dennis' mind, and it seems to me that the Mac "situation" has left him with a sense of powerlessness. He feels isolated, trapped in an endless nightmare of his own creation, and he has nobody he can count on to help him, there's nobody he can rely on, he can only trust himself. Compressing the coal into a diamond represents Dennis molding everything to be exactly as he wishes, and by swallowing it he reclaims absolute control.

Always sunny book- : the 7 secrets of awakening the highly effective four-hour giant, today

"Mac for instance is also a 3 in ugly, so even if this exercise we're going to try fails, you'll have some company at your ugly parties. For the record, on the ugly scale charlie is a five, frank is a six, and Dee is a nine." - Dennis

[miss-dollette]

COD Fandom rants and Icks.

TW: okay, yall don't take this super seriously. I'm just a person on the internet, so don't blow a gasket. Or do, idc. If you resonate, cool, if you don't, cool. Tell me what you agree with.

The weird age gap, pedocore shit a lot of writers got going on. I swear to God, if I see one more person post an age gap fanfiction of one more MW2 character where the reader is childcoded, I'm gonna fucking rip out a nerve. Can people pls start making x Readers where the reader is 30 or 40?

The Daddy kink bullshit. It's so fucking gross. I know this is fanfiction, and you know, it's all imagination, but do you honestly believe Ghost would have a daddy kink?? The ultimate daddy issue king?? Not only that, but it's just plain gross. I know a lot of you don't have fathers and wanna cope with it, but calm down, geez, for the sake of my eyes.

The lack of Makarov fanfiction that's good. Most of it (what little there is) is bad. Like, I'm sorry, but it's sooo bad.

Can we pls have more housewife fanfiction?? I'm tired of badass readers. I literally stopped reading x reader fanfiction for a while because I was so tired of this. I don't wanna girlboss, I wanna girlwife sometimes, okay?

The bad code names. The amount of people who give their oc the name "Athena" is ridiculous. And if it's not Athena, it's some poetic shit. In reality, if you get a nickname in the military, it's to make fun of you, not to praise your grace and beauty. Don't be a mary-sue.

Bad grammar. Listen, I'm writing this during my 15 minute break, so don't get on my ass about my own grammar in this. When I write actual fanfiction, I use sources to make it good. The internet is riddled with sources. While fanfiction is all about having fun, people want to be actually able to read it.

Okay that's all. For now.

[scatteredskittless]

Good day !! Not sure if you write for Adam but could I request like general friendship hcs for him? Thank you !! :D

Platonic Adam x Reader headcanons

A/n: Adam !! I had a feeling I’d get a request for him sooner or later lolz

Warnings: Adam just kinda… being himself? Some degrading terms used.

Fluff✔️ Comfort❌ Angst❌ Smut❌

🪽♔ I’m kinda going off of his friendship with Lute and just how he interacts with people in general… but Adam’s a douchebag and lowkey toxic 💀💀 please be aware of that before getting yourself involved in a friendship with him (he’s really just your average white dude guys I’m sorry)

🪽♔ BUT…. if you know this and CAN handle him, he’d be pretty entertaining to be friends with.

🪽♔ Bros a professional hater, would talk shit with you about the people in heaven you and him don’t like.

🪽♔ Side eyes you when those people do or say something (could literally be ANYTHING) and you both have to try really hard not to laugh your asses off

🪽♔ Makes very out of pocket jokes or comments in public that make you shush him, which results in him calling you a bitch and telling you not to shush him.

🪽♔ Basically Eric Cartman if he somehow landed himself into heaven if you squint…

🪽♔ Rip Adam, you would’ve loved South Park 😞

🪽♔ Does he call you by nicknames? Of course…! Affectionate ones? Well! Not really!

🪽♔ Calls you stuff like “Bitch”, “Slut”, “Whore”, “Cunt” but he probably doesn’t mean any of them. He can get pretty fucking creative with it too sometimes so it leaves you guessing.

🪽♔ Dealing with him takes patience and earning his respect, friendship and trust takes way more. You gotta work for that shit and be able to keep up with him.

🪽♔ Movie nights are a must, he’d love those. Pop some popcorn (add extra butter, that’s how he likes it), Dim the lights, Sit on the couch with him and put on a movie and he’s content.

🪽♔ He is a movie talker though so good luck getting him to shut up, he’d just throw popcorn at you if you tried.

🪽♔ On the subject of talking, Adam is literally the original yapper. He’ll yap on and on about anything and everything when you two hang out but he does actually make an effort to listen to you too

🪽♔ Isn’t big on physical touch.. you two only hugged like once and he just kinda awkwardly patted your back. Bro is NOT a hugger 🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️

🪽♔ But… he does really care for you. You’ve stuck around long enough to show him you’re not leaving and he values your friendship a lot

🪽♔ Would he ever tell you that? HAH NO.

Please do not repost, translate, or plagarize any of my fanfictions/headcanons/writing without permission ◟( ˃̶͈◡ ˂̶͈ )◞

ᯓ★ Scatteredskittles

[badkitty3000]

Strength

Five is finally strong enough to give in to his true feelings and tell you how he feels. You are strong enough to let him.

Five Hargreeves x Reader Smut

The third one shot in this short series, following "Addicted" and "Weak". Contains points of view from both characters.

My Master List Of Number Five Fanfiction

Strength:

The position of the bed in your room has always annoyed you. For half the year, when the sunlight pours in, it slices right across your face in the most non-gentle way. One minute you’re sleeping soundly and the next you are being slapped awake by a piercing light over your eyes. It doesn’t matter how much you try to cover the window, the sun still fights its way through. Like it has a personal vendetta against your rest.

Today is no different, and you shield your eyes with your hand and blink into the light. It takes you a few seconds to clear your head, but then you remember. The happenings of last night would have felt like a vivid dream if it weren’t for the glaring evidence all around you.

Tangled, wrinkled sheets. Your body aching and throbbing in places it shouldn’t be. The lingering scent of sweat and sex in the air. But of course, the biggest piece of evidence is the empty space next to you. He’s gone.

Not that you were expecting anything less. Yet, for some reason, it still fucking hurts. You would think that you would be used to it by now; maybe even like it. Good company, good sex, no ties. What’s not to like? You’ve had this argument with yourself a thousand times. It never does any good.

You roll onto your back, staring up at the ceiling, and moving out of the direct line of sun. You’re still naked and you can feel the stickiness between your legs. Some sort of concoction of his saliva and cum, probably. You need to shower. But you lie there, staring blankly upwards.

Are you going to cry? Rip the sheets off the bed in a rage-fueled hysteria? Call and leave several consecutive voicemails listing all of the reasons you hate him? Maybe. Or you could just stay here, unmoving and unfeeling. You’re so tired and that seems like the best option. At least for now.

The thing is, it’s not fair for you to hate him. It’s not his fault. He’s never promised you anything he didn’t deliver. He’s never mistreated you or lied to you. He has never been anything except himself this whole time. If you were going to be honest, you’ve brought all of this on yourself. You created this. This fantasy world that has never existed, and will never exist.

What did you think was going to happen? You would finally get him to fall madly in love with you and you’d make some happy little home together, just the two of you? He’d kiss you goodbye in the morning, head out to blast a few unsuspecting fuckers in the face, and then come back in the evening exhausted and missing you? He would sit down and you’d crawl into his lap and lay your head on his chest while he told you about his day?

Yes. That’s exactly what you thought. Pathetic.

You’re not sure how you got like this. You used to be a normal person. You weren’t exactly planning on losing your fucking mind over this guy. During that first night, when you came stumbling into your place, both of you drunk off your asses and already trying to get the other’s clothes off, you certainly hadn’t planned on anything more than a quick fuck. He was hot. You were horny. He bought you a few drinks. You brought him home to fuck him. Not exactly a swoon-worthy meet-cute.

It wasn’t until he had you on your back, naked and panting, that something switched. There was something different about the way he started to kiss you. Something different in his touch as his hands roamed over your body and lit you up from the inside. You weren’t even sure how to describe it.

It was like a longing, or a sadness, or desperation, as he kissed down your neck and chest like he worshiped you. He fucked you hard and rough, but even that was different than anything you’d experienced before. He continued to look you in the eyes, kissing your lips and touching your face.

There was a weird contradiction between the forceful thrusts of his pelvis into yours and the gentleness of his face and hands. Something about that paradox of hard and soft that seemed to be a constant battle inside of himself had you falling apart.

And fuck, did you fall hard.

You wanted to have more of him, to see inside of him, and to give him whatever he needed. But of course, he pulled away the minute you suggested something more than what you were already getting from each other. He had made it very clear from the beginning. He wasn’t going to stay.

It had hurt, but that didn’t mean you stopped wanting him. It was too late by then. He was already inside you; in your brain and under your skin. When he wasn’t there, you could feel him and hear his voice in your head. All of those things he would tell you while his mouth roamed over your body, his eyes full of want and desire.

You feel so good

You’re stunning

Don’t stop, sweetheart, you’re doing so good for me

I need you, baby

The longer you let it drag on, the worse it got for you. He knew what you liked and how to give it to you. He knew what to say to make you forget everything else. When he was there, he made you his world; giving you everything you begged for and more.

Except for the one thing he never gave you, no matter how much you begged.

And you did beg. Shamefully and embarrassingly. You begged him to give you more of him. To know all of him. Not just the physical parts. You wanted to be in his head and in his soul. But he just gave you that look; the one that got you into this mess in the first place. And then he denied you all of it.

You knew why he had told you what he was. He was trying to scare you. Make you think he was a monster and finally give up on him. You had been asking him to stay again, questioning why he wouldn’t when he snapped. He threw you against the wall and pinned you there, teeth bared in a snarl, his face inches from yours.

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to,” he had hissed.

“Try me,” you challenged.

You had seen the brief hesitation and confliction on his face, but then the anger was back and he spat it back at you.

“Fuck! Why are you so fucking stubborn? Fine, you want to know? Want to know why you’re going to regret all of this? I’m a killer. A fucking assassin and I kill people. I’ve killed hundreds and I’ll keep killing more!”

He was breathing hard as you stared at him, your eyes wide, while he still had you backed against the wall.

“So, what now, princess? Still think you want me?”

He had said it sarcastically, obviously thinking he already knew the answer. He thought you would push him away, or scream, or call him disgusting. Instead, you had looked in his eyes and you saw what he thought he had been hiding from you. The fear that was there. He was afraid you would push him away. Afraid you really would see him as a monster.

“Yes,” you had whispered with a nod.

Before he could answer, you had leaned in to kiss him, but he jerked his head back.

“Stop it,” he’d warned quietly. “You don’t want this.”

But you didn’t listen, and you leaned in again, hearing his breath catch in his throat. After he hesitated again, he gave in and let you brush your lips softly against his and he didn’t resist anymore. He let you kiss him and run your hands down his chest, until he was pressing you even harder into the wall, hands laced into your hair.

You’re not sure when it all became a turn-on. Or even why. It’s not like you’d ever thought murder or blood was sexy before.

But holy shit, when you saw that blood on him the first time, you thought you might come just from looking at him.

The only reason you can think of is that you know he is a hard, ruthless, unforgiving killer when he’s out there. But when he’s with you…you get to see a tiny part of him that very few others ever get to. When he’s soft and gentle and caressing your body with the warmest touch, it does something to you. Something weird and primal.

You like knowing what he’s capable of. You like knowing his secret. And you fucking love the fact that he can switch it off and on for you.

You want to hear the bloody details and see the gruesome evidence. You want to smell the dried sweat on him after a particularly draining day of tracking and killing. Because that means you get the other side of him. The one you can pretend is only for you.

Out of all your little fucked up fantasies, that one is probably the most delusional. You have never discussed exclusivity with each other before. There has hardly been a need to, considering how much time lapses in between meetings. It’s foolish of you to think you are the only one. Why would you be?

You know what he looks like and how he carries himself and how he fucks. To think that there are no other women out there taking advantage of his existence would be pretty fucking stupid.

But still, you let yourself fall into that trap sometimes. You imagine all of those days and weeks that will go by without him; when he won’t pick up the phone. You imagine him sitting there alone, thinking about you.

What a fucking idiot you are.

That’s why you had to tell yourself no more. You were cutting yourself off. It wasn’t good. It wasn’t healthy. You were becoming weird and obsessive and your self-confidence was shot. So, after one of those early mornings, when you caught him trying to slip out undetected, you told him you couldn’t do it anymore.

You told him to leave you alone. Told him to go fuck himself. Told him he was the worst person alive.

And he had just stood there, taking it all in, and not arguing. Then he had left, just like he was going to do anyway.

In hindsight, he didn’t deserve any of that. Or any of the times after that, when you had given in and started the whole pattern over again. It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t plant these pathetic ideas into your brain. He never promised you anything. Yet, you still blamed him.

All of these thoughts are running through your head as you haul your heavy body up, pausing to sit on the edge of the bed for a minute, before getting up and making your way to the bathroom. As you wait for the shower to warm up, you look at your reflection in the mirror and you flinch. Leaning in closer, you run a finger over the tender mark on the side of your neck. A red and purple bruise that is too high and too big to be covered by a shirt collar or hair. Then you take in the rest of your body. You look like some sort of fucked up connect-the-dots puzzle.

Marks all over your collarbone, your shoulders, and your tits. You even find a few on your stomach and thighs. You don’t even remember getting those.

You might have been happy about it, or even turned on if it were another time. But your mind goes back to last night and everything that he said and did.

He said you were his. He told you only he could have you. He marked you for himself and for anyone else that might see you. He would kill anyone else that touched you.

Then he left.

And you’re standing here with his bites and bruises all over your body, and his dried cum between your legs, and you’re trapped again.

You’re not sure who you hate more, yourself or him.

The shower feels good on your skin as it washes away some of what he left behind. The water mixes with the tears that are slowly dripping down your face and that you are trying hard to ignore. You feel like shit. Just like you knew you would.

So, this is it. You are done. And this is not like all of the other times you’ve said the same thing, knowing in the back of your mind that you really didn’t have the strength to follow through. Now you do. And you believe yourself this time. He will never be completely yours and you are finally ready to accept that.

After you clean up and get dressed, you stare once again at the disheveled bed and you turn away from it. You’ll deal with it later. Right now you need some coffee. Maybe that will help clear your mind a bit.

As you pad down the hallway, you hear a noise and you stop. You hear it again and you continue on, slowly and cautiously towards the kitchen. And then you see him. Bent over in front of your open fridge and you rub your eyes like you must be hallucinating. You look around you, check the clock on the wall, and determine that yes, it is the morning.

What the fuck is happening?

“Five?” you whisper.

Your voice sounds weird to your own ears and you half expect him to realize he made a mistake and blink away without a word. But he doesn’t. Instead, he turns to you and offers you that fucking irritating smile that you both hate and love. And you don’t even know what to say.

 ***********************************************************************

The sun outside is blinding as I shove my hands in my pockets, hurrying along the sidewalk, my head down. I feel the worst I’ve ever felt, and that’s saying something. I fucked up big time and the shame is still lingering. I was manipulative and possessive and rough with her. And then I was gentle and loving. I told her she was beautiful and no one else could have her.

Then I left.

I can tell myself a million times over I’m doing it for her own good, and maybe that’s partially true. But really, it’s for me. Because I can’t pull my head out of my ass for long enough to acknowledge what I really want. At least outside of my own head.

As I’m silently berating myself, something has caught my eye and I stop dead in my tracks in the middle of the sidewalk. Up ahead, coming out of an apartment building is that guy. The one she was with last night. The one I wanted to murder at first glance.

He’s got his arm around a woman’s waist, and they are smiling and laughing together as they walk outside. She is pushing a stroller with a small girl sitting inside, and he is holding onto a leash with a golden retriever on the other end of it. The woman is wearing a wedding ring with a diamond so big I can see it from here, and they carry on down the street, the perfect picture of the American family.

This time, on top of wanting to blow this guy’s fucking head off his shoulders, I want to expose him for what he is. I want to confront his wife; let her know the kind of man she’s married to and what he was up to the night before. Then maybe she’ll give me the go-ahead to at least punch him in the face.

Two things stop me, though. One is that they have a kid. And growing up knowing that your dad is a complete and total dickwad is not fun. Trust me on that. I figure she’ll find out soon enough, she doesn’t need me to bring that little piece of information to light for her.

The second thing is that I realize I am just like him.

It hits me like a punch to the gut and for a brief moment it actually hurts to take a breath in. Here I am getting pissed about this random guy’s behavior when really, he’s no different than myself. We’ve both lied to her. We’ve both used her. Maybe he didn’t get to fuck her, but he would have if I hadn’t cock blocked him.

Wow, you are one giant piece of shit.

The more I think about it, the more I realize this. Instead of killing him, I should go up to him and shake his hand. Welcome him to the club of heartless assholes; maybe buy him a drink and exchange stories of how we’re the scum of the earth. Fuck, we should be best fucking friends!

Is this what I want? Do I want to spend the rest of my life in the company of these kinds of people? People who are weak and cowardly and use others for their own selfish needs? No, I do not. And I also do not want her to be subjected to more of the same. She’s already had to deal with me; she doesn’t need to go through this with someone else.

I can fix this, though. I can do what I should have done from the start. I don’t have to be like him. I have a choice.

I turn immediately and start making my way back the way I came. I have no idea what I’m going to say or how this is going to work. I don’t know how the fuck to be in a real relationship and I sure as hell don’t know how I’m going to fit into her life. I also don’t know if she’ll even want me. But I have to try this time.

I blink inside like I always do, not even thinking about it. I’m jumpy with nerves and my palms are starting to sweat. I can hear the shower running and I think about blinking in there with her, but quickly decide that I do not want to give her a heart attack or get my balls kicked in, so instead I wait.

What do normal people do in these situations? I look around me. I should do something nice, like make her breakfast. Do I even know what she likes to eat? No, because I’ve always left before I’ve needed to find out. Dick.

Eggs seem like a pretty safe bet, so I start rummaging around in her refrigerator. As I’m pulling out the carton, I hear my name and I turn to see her standing there. She is obviously confused as to why I’m here and I smile because she’s so fucking cute with that dumb look on her face.

“What are you…did you forget something?” she asks, her eyes darting nervously away from mine.

I hold out the carton of eggs I have in my hand. “Yeah, I needed to borrow a few eggs, do you mind?”

That was my lame attempt at a joke and I can see it landed so far off the mark I can’t even see it anymore. She’s staring at me with a deep crease between her eyebrows and her mouth half open like she can’t quite decide if she should say something more or hurl the nearest sharpest object at my head.

I give a short, embarrassed laugh and I set the carton on the counter and run a hand through my hair.

“Sorry. I didn’t come here for eggs.”

 “Then why are you here?”

I can hear the tremble in her voice and I know it’s because she is afraid of my answer. She’s afraid I’m going to make her feel even worse than she already does. It sucks but I understand.

“I came back to tell you…” my voice trails off because I have no idea what to say. I clear my throat and try again. “I came back to tell you a lot of things, actually. But the main thing is that I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything I have done and everything I should have done but didn’t. You deserve much more than I have ever given you and I am so sorry for that.”

She is still looking at me very suspiciously and she is not saying anything, so I press on.

“I’ve been trying to stay away because I think you deserve someone better than me. Someone who can be a part of your life in all of the ways I don’t know how. I still think that, but I don’t want to keep doing this anymore. I want you.”

Her eyebrows draw together even more and she blinks a few times before speaking. 

“What do you mean you want me?”

I lean up against the counter and take a deep breath. “I want you. All of you. I don’t just want the sex. I want everything and anything you want to give me.”

She swallows hard and shifts her weight from one foot to the other. “Five, I don’t really…I don’t know what to say.”

I nod and look at the floor. “I understand if you want nothing to do with me. I fully deserve for you to kick me out right now and never talk to me again.”

She shakes her head. “No, that’s not what I mean. Do you know how long I have wanted to hear something like this from you? It’s fucking pathetic how long. But now that I’m hearing it, I’m having a hard time believing you.”

I run another hand through my hair and down the back of my neck. “I understand,” I say again, fully expecting to get the lecture I have coming to me.

Instead, she’s walking over to me, eyes locked on mine. She throws her body against mine and hugs me tightly around my waist and I hear and feel her take a big breath in and let it out. I wrap my arms around her in return, but I don’t know what else to say.

“Don’t lie to me,” she says quietly but firmly. “If you’re lying and you leave again, you need to stay gone.”

“I’m not lying. I want this. I might not know what the fuck I’m doing or how to do any of this, but I’m going to try.” She looks up at me and I trace my fingers down the side of her face. “I know what I want, and it’s you.”

I barely register what is happening next as she jumps into my arms, legs wrapped around me, and she’s kissing me hard and deep. I don’t even know what this means yet, but I don’t want it to end. Her body is warm as she clings to me and I never want to let her go. I tell her that in between hungry kisses and I blink us both into the bedroom where I throw her onto the bed.

I have never seen her in the bright light of the day before, and she’s even more gorgeous this way. It makes me wonder what the hell took me so long. As I lie down next to her, I place light kisses on the mark I left on her neck.

“Does it hurt?” I whisper.

“Not anymore,” she says, before pulling me back in again, covering my mouth with her own.

We don’t feel the need to hurry things along this time, and we take the time to kiss and feel one another until the urge is too strong and we can’t wait anymore. When she’s fully naked and laid out beneath me, the morning sun still shining through the window, I see my map of possessive calling cards I left all over her body. I know I shouldn’t be, but I’m most definitely turned on by that.

“Damn it, you’re beautiful like this.”

She smiles and pulls me in again, opening her legs for me so I can be inside of her, which is what I’m dying for. I don’t want to rush it though, so I thrust into her slow and gentle, covering her neck and face in more kisses. When our eyes meet, I want to tell her so many things.

“You’re the only one, you know. There’s no one else,” I confess as I drag my lips across the shell of her ear.

I hear her whimper and when I look again, she’s crying. I stop, thinking I said something wrong, but she only smiles through her tears and pulls me closer with her legs, pushing her hips up to let me know to keep going.

I shove my cock in deeper and harder. I want to hear her moan and cry for me and only me. She is arching her back and clutching at my body like she’s afraid I’m going to leave right here and now. And I feel terrible that I made her feel that way. I only want to make her feel good.

“I’m sorry,” I moan against her skin as I drive into her even harder. “I’m sorry.”

I pick up her leg and put it on my shoulder, making her mouth fall open as she lets out a loud cry.

“Oh fuck, Five…” she screams.

Just hearing that is almost enough to make me come, but I want more and so I ram into her harder and faster until her loud moans match the rhythm of my fucking. I want to fill her up again, make her mine again, and listen to my name emanating from her mouth in long sobs.

“You’re mine,” I tell her, and I can’t even stop myself. It’s all I can think as I desperately thrust into her, as hard as I dare without hurting her.

I groan, closing my eyes, as I feel her hand in my hair, threading her fingers through it. Her touch feels so good and I let her pull my face down to hers so she can kiss me again. I love the way she kisses me.

“I’m yours,” she responds before throwing her head back, exposing her neck, and I want to leave more marks on that beautiful skin, but I resist this time.

Instead, I bury my face in between her neck and shoulder and keep fucking her. She’s writhing and clawing at my back and she’s on the edge of coming. So, I keep doing what I’ve been doing and pound into her hard and relentlessly. She reaches down between us to finger her clit and the sight and feel of that is too much, because holy fuck, is that hot.

“Oh shit, baby, I’m…” I groan loudly as I unload inside of her at the same time she is shaking and shuddering beneath me.

Afterwards, when we’re both gasping for air, I pull out but I don’t move off of her. I want to stay right here, with her legs and arms wrapped tightly around me, feeling her breath against my neck and her fingers tracing over my skin. I’m so filled with every emotion imaginable and I don’t even know what to say or do. So, I say the only thing I can think of that might somehow convey everything.

“I’m sorry,” I say quietly, my mouth pressed against her sweat-damp shoulder. “I’m sorry,” I tell her as I move to her face, kissing her mouth, her cheeks, and her forehead. “I’m sorry,” I confess as I lay my head on her chest and close my eyes against the hot tears I can feel forming behind my eyelids.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

I’m chanting it like it’s somehow going to erase all of the things I have done. And not just to her. I’m sorry for so many things I can’t even name them all. But once I start saying it, I can’t stop and I’m just so fucking sorry for everything in my goddamn life. And I know it’s not going to change anything, or change the kind of person I was and still am. I know that. Still, it keeps rising out of me, taking on a life of its own, and I can’t seem to stop.

“I’m sorry…”

“Five, it’s ok. Five, look at me.”

I finally shut up and open my eyes to look at her.

“It’s going to be ok,” she says softly. “We’re going to be ok.”

I don’t even know what to say to that because I want to believe it so badly, but it’s just so hard to. I nod my head and kiss her lips and move off of her so I can lie next to her instead. When I pull her to me, her back to my chest, I feel the best I’ve ever felt. I still don’t know how to do this, or how to fix things, or what tomorrow is going to bring. But I’m going to stay this time, I know that much.

She is my weakness and my strength and everything that makes me whole. She is finally mine.

[voxofthevoid]

Like I said in my preliminary post about the chapter, my initial impression of JJK 268 was positive but lukewarm—kind of “okay, that’s decent but full of holes.” Then I made the mistake of thinking about it too much, and now my opinion is more like “that’s ass actually.”

Unflattering assessment of JJK 268 and the current state of the story to follow—stop reading here if you don’t want to see that.

There were two things I liked—and still like, to a certain extent—about the chapter: Yuuji’s final conversation with Sukuna and Gojou’s final letters. But past the initial approval, I’m finding severe issues with those as well.

The Letters

To tackle the lesser evil first, the letters are quite in character for Gojou, and the one to Megumi is on point. It’s perfect. The one to Nobara is where it falls apart. Her mother is a non-entity; her entire flashback has focused on her friendships, with Saori in particular. Her family is absent from the page/screen, and all we get are passing mentions hinting at her family dynamics. So why the fuck is that what Gojou’s letter focuses on?

I know the answer; there’s nothing else for him to tell her. They’re not close and barely know each other, so there’s no substance to their relationship the way there is with Gojou and Yuuji or Gojou and Megumi. What would have made a good letter to her was Saori’s address/number—but Gojou can’t reasonably give her that because there’s no feasible way he’d have known about Saori. Nobara sure as shit wouldn’t have told him. So it feels like Gege tacked on information about a random absent mother because the letter had to say something and this complements Megumi’s letter. It just falls flat as fuck because nobody cares, least of all Nobara herself.

What I think could have worked without having Gojou act out of character was a joke or some bullshit about her coma—something that shows his faith/hope that she’d wake up and be well without becoming emotional or trite. They weren’t close, but she was still a student he cared for. There are ways to show that without pulling a random family member into the equation.

Sukuna and Yuuji

Where do I even start?

In isolation, I adored the conversation they had at the end. It allows both of their personalities as well as their relationship to shine and stay true to themselves while delivering a powerful final exchange. There are several angles to it that fascinate me, especially the contrast between how nightmarish Yuuji's offer truly is and how tenderly he proposes it.

But how the fuck did they get there?

Specifically, how’d Yuuji go from trying to rip out Sukuna’s heart at the end of JJK 260 to being willing to give Sukuna a second chance to be his prisoner/companion until their mutual death? JJK 265 and even 266 lay out his reasoning, but how and when did he get to that point? Yuuji’s final attitude toward Sukuna has both empathy and sympathy: (i) he realizes that he and Sukuna were both shouldering curses out of their control and that it may have been nurture as much as nature that made them what they are, and (ii) he believes that Sukuna deserves a chance to be more than a cursed existence.

We never see why or how he develops these beliefs. A throwaway line from Sukuna about being a wretched child isn’t enough for Yuuji to write Heian era fanfiction in his head; frankly, Yuuji’s not the type. The only option is the much-referenced but so-far unused “resonance” giving Yuuji actual insights into Sukuna’s emotions or backstory, but we don’t see that. We don’t even get hints of that. Yuuji’s willing to tear Sukuna apart and then he’s willing to coexist with him. Forget missing steps, there’s an entire missing floor here.

I’m all for stories that require the reader to engage in inference and analysis, but you still need solid material to prompt such conclusions. JJK is lacking that. There are hints of it. You can squint and see the building blocks of Yuuji’s eventual mindset. But it feels like entire chapters are missing between his attitude in 260 and 265 and also between 265 and 268.

The Fingers

You know how Sukuna’s death only being possible via a vessel has been a driving factor behind the entire plot? Well, I guess we can just ignore that. Just pull him out and let him disintegrate as a lump—problem solved. Even the remaining finger isn’t a problem anymore! That’d have made sense given it’s still only one finger—although even one-finger Sukuna is immensely powerful and might be an issue in the future, if the next generations are weaker than the current one. But instead, it’s framed as that finger not even having the power to connect to Sukuna’s soul at all. Even that’s acceptable in isolation, except this entire thing contradicts how the fingers and Sukuna’s existence have been framed until this point.

Just a few chapters ago, Sukuna was vomiting up fingers as the connection between his soul and Megumi’s body was assaulted. Hell, he swallowed them right back. The natural conclusion here would be that tearing him from Megumi’s body would result in four fingers—Yuuji’s little finger and three original Sukuna fingers—containing some 95% of Sukuna’s soul/power. It also meant someone would need to die to vanquish Sukuna because a vessel was necessary. The question was whether it’d be Megumi or Yuuji.

The answer, apparently, is that you don’t need a vessel at all. Yuuji’s offer to him is framed as him giving Sukuna grace—sure, he’d be caged in and then die with Yuuji sooner or later, likely sooner, but Yuuji's still offering him a longer life. And then Sukuna dies without a vessel. So what was the point of it all? The change is flimsily justified while contradicting the very premise of the story, and not only does it make Sukuna’s end underwhelming, but it also cheapens all the pain and horror until this point.

Tonal Dissonance

This chapter feels like two halves of two different chapters stitched together. Compare the aftermath of the Shibuya Incident to this aftermath—where’s the gravity, the grief? The end of the battle doesn’t get time to settle before the trio are back together, healed and happy.

Happy endings and tragic endings are both good endings—when they’re well crafted and cohesive. And JJK hasn’t ended yet, but the battle with Sukuna did, and we jump right into an aftermath that has no respect for the severity and devastation of the fight that preceded it. Seeing Yuuji, Megumi, and Nobara happy makes me feel nothing; it doesn’t even seem part of the same story. We see no hints of Megumi or Nobara really acknowledging everything that happened while they were possessed and unconscious, respectively. There’s no real sense of consequence either, which is just jarring after all the character deaths and associated emotions in the previous chapters.

The thing is, I think this could have been mitigated by shifting Megumi’s waking and what follows into a new chapter. It wouldn’t fix the timeline issues—it looks like Megumi’s waking several hours, maybe a day or two max, after the fight ended—but it’d be less abrupt. Follow Uraume’s death with a long pan of Shinjuku and maybe snapshots of what the survivors are up to: Yuuji gathering up Megumi’s conscious body; the state of Yuuta, Toudou, and Hana, as well as the remaining sorcerers who were involved in the fight; a quick look at the colonies and the incarnated/awakened sorcerers Kenjaku didn’t manage to kill. Just something to let the end of the fight sink in—a proper transition.

Honestly, I feel like Gege’s ticking off a few boxes in their outline to get this story done with. Maybe it’s burnout, maybe it’s loss of interest; I don’t know. But the end result is that there’s the shape of a story—an arc, an ending—that could have been incredible but is instead a sad, disintegrating lump on the ground, much like Sukuna was in the end.

There are three more chapters, so I assume some of my remaining questions or issues will be addressed, like the terms of the Kenjaku–Sukuna binding vow, the state of Japanese society, the fate of the surviving CG players and the CG itself, the Tengen fetus that’s presumably still inside Megumi, etc. They may even address some of the inconsistencies and ambiguities raised above. But this entire arc has already suffered from an excess of post-hoc explanations, and more of that won’t really make it a stronger or better story.

[xqueen-of-disasterx]

Some more thoughts about dbf!Nat (because lately I’m obsessed with her heh and I don’t have the time to write a full length fanfiction because I’m currently doing my lifeguard training

Imagine Natasha coming over for BBQ at your dads house and you were some skimpy outfit just to tease her. You know that by wearing those short skirts and cami tops made it impossible for her to keep it in her pants. You’d bend over in front of her whenever you could revealing your rose pink panties to Nat. You’d press yourself against her bulge when ever you’re father wasn’t around. Nat would make all of that embarrassingly hard and annoyed. Wanting nothing more than to rip your panties and fuck you stupid.

Eventually when you had headed to bed she decided to stay in the guest room for the night not feeling comfortable with driving after some wine. She didn’t stay there for long through creeping in your room and having you ass up in front of her as she gave you a good spanking.

“Please Natty I’m so sorry” you sobbed as her hands kept on crashing against your already reddened skin on the behind “I’m sorry bunny but you’ve gotta learn” she smirked

Save to say you ended with a stinging pain whenever you sat down for the next week. Was it worth it though definitely. Would you do it again definitely!

[pinkgy]

If possible can I please request what whb mammon would be like as a dom with a femMc? I feel like he definitely is a switch and is very versatile, but he definitely holds back his dominant side for the sake of Mc's physcial well being. So what would he do if the Mc didn't want him to hold back and actually take the reins?

Hi anon ! Tysm for your request and sorry for the delay.

Sorry if it’s too short, I suck at writing One Shots, but I always try my best !

I also feel like mammon is a switch, mostly because I feel he likes that feeling of his master using him for their own pleasure, but there’s definitely something dominant in him, in fact, I can’t imagine him actually subbing.

Also, he’s huge wtf, if he didn’t hold back he would kill someone.

CW: Rough Sex, Spanking, Mammon eats ass and you can’t tell me otherwise (this situation does not happen in this post), No vagina fits 23 cm but it’s okay because this is fanfiction, He slaps the mc three times in the face, but it’s not that hard, belly bulging, no protection.

✿ There’s many ways to bring out this side of him, you could tell him directly during one of your intimate moments, or you could trigger it, both will work, but the second one might be the most amusing way.

✿ Telling him directly will make him laugh, he would tease you saying that he’s rough enough with you and and that you wouldn’t be able to take it

✿ And he would use your proposal as a way to tease you for days, his pet name for you is no longer master or love, now it’s freak.

✿ Of course, deep in his heart he wishes that you took that seriously someday, but also, he wishes you don’t.

✿ Mammon would forever hate himself if he hurt you, he knows that he’s big, both for human and demon standards, but he also knows that he tends to lose control easily, one wrong move and he kills you, and just imagining that makes him lose his sleep.

✿ If it were up to him, Mammon wouldn’t have held back from the first moment, but he loves you so much he doesn’t dare to, until …

“F-fuck”

You were seeing white dots, your face was wet with a mix of your tears, your spit, mammon’s spit and probably cum. Your head was pressed into the bedsheets by a strong big hand and your arms were tied behind your back with what seemed to be a golden fabric, it looks familiar right ? Of course it does, Mammon fucking ripped it from his expensive robe.

You can’t complain anyways, you were asking for it, it took several days and lots of patience, but finally you managed to rile him up enough so he could get you where you are right now, completely dumb on his dick.

“Don’t whine and take it” he grunted, every hard thrust felt overwhelming, your whole body felt numb and the only thing your mind could process was the wet sounds coming from Mammon ramming his dick in you.

“S’too much”

“Shut up”

You felt his heavy hand smack your asscheeks, and together with his heavy balls smashing against your clit it all made a nasty sound, you tried to push your hips away from him in dumb intent, but his firm grip on your hips stopped you from doing anything.

“Can you fucking stop being a brat ? Take it”

He says harshly, one of his hands makes its way from your hips to your chest, and in a swift movement he brings you up so your back is against his chest, he never stopped his mean thrusts inside you, and with this new position you could feel him deeper than ever.

“I bet you can feel me in your guts” His hand grabbing your chest went to your abdomen, and pressed tightly against he bulge his dick was making in your belly “Right here”

Tears were flowing down your face by now, Mammon’s pace never faltered, and you were sure your moans could be heard from miles away, he was holding your whole weight by now, since your legs already gave up, and your arms only had enough strength to hold onto his strong arms.

You had nothing on your mind, only his dick pounding harshly into you, but as his thrust grew harder and harder, signing that he was about to cum inside you, you felt drowsy, as if you were about to pass out, but before you could close your eyes, Mammon took your cheeks with his hand and pulled your head up so you were staring at him “Don’t” he slapped you once “Pass” he slapped your other cheek “Out” And with that last word, Mammon blew a load deep inside you.

[gortashs-skidmark]

something nasty bc there’s not enough gorty content.

Gort’s Big Jork

Enver Gortash x Tav (GN) NSFW!! MNDI! 18+ Content!

Description: Gort jorks it to Tav. Using a Scrying Eye spying system seen in the game.

Spoilers for Act 2 and a little 3

Content Warning: Jorkin’ it idk, masturbating (male), tried to make it smutty, spying on tav, he’s an ass man.

!! Gender Neutral Anatomy. No Male or Female parts explicitly mentioned, bc you bitches always make it afab, it’s much hotter and inclusive when it’s GN descriptions !!

Gort needs to fuck. I’ve never ever written fanfiction before but in desperate need of him. If there are errors comment below and I’ll fix them if I know how. Also Gort is kinda gross in this bc if he can’t tie his own shirt or brush his yellow teeth, he’s not gonna care in this.

𐌄𐌍ᕓ𐌄𐌓ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅𐌄𐌍ᕓ𐌄𐌓ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅𐌄𐌍ᕓ𐌄𐌓ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅

This monitorial invention of his, mounted on the wall in front of him, glowed filling the room with a striking blue hue. Flickering as his living cameras moved on the other side. Everything he could see of his plans in-action filled his view. A few, showed a black screens, in turn reflecting his raw image. The Goblin Camp had been struck to its knees and his few scrying eyes along with it.

He stood with his arms crossed, the rest of his body portrayed in a confident relaxed position. He stood behind a cushiony chair. Gortash could sit, but he didn’t have a lot of time to throw away, staring at the blue-ish shade thrown over Moonrise’s walls. Watching his acolytes pick their noses when they thought no one was watching.

He hadn’t expected Tav to make it into Moonrise, much less with the same company as before. Through Duegar guarding the elevator, and hostile Githyanki ripping through anyone who may have the artefact he sought after, who would have guessed? This may prove a problem if they can slash through just anyone.

Gortash took a deep breath, in through his mouth, out through his nose, tipping his head down without his eyes leaving the screen. He studied Tav through his scrying eye monitors, up and down the eye thoughtlessly followed the miscreant.

He couldn’t help but admire them, truly, and foolishly. They had put themselves through the thick of it, and still landed where it hurt Gortash’s plans the most. They made it to the Shadowlands, blessed by Selûne, and dusted by pixies. How utterly lucky. Unravaged by the Shadowfell, and their brains still have enough holes in it to step into Ketheric’s territory.

He felt his breath quicken and his upper lip curl in disgust. Sheer luck on their side. Never on his. His thoughts were upsetting. By Jergal’s Blessing it shouldn’t be this easy. He had to be a genius and a cunt to make it to his place in the world.

His chest rose up and down unsteadily. His loosely folded arms, now gripped the top of the cushioned chair mercilessly. He hadn’t worn his gold threaded attire, instead in a soft set of navy blue pantaloons and a threaded black blouse. Still his forearm held the stone upon a Gauntlet, he never took it off. It was night-time across Wyrm’s Crossing, his home. He didn’t sleep when the sun went down and the stars came up. He couldn’t sleep now, knowing this hero slipped through his fingers like sand.

Gortash would feel no failure. Bane would see no failure. It was his flawed compatriots with ambitious gods who would fall fast. faster. And he would suffer the consequences of their own failure. This hero, broad backed, snatched waist, adorned in dented armor, a raw frazzled state they were in from the journey there. Blood crusted on the side on their face, on their boots, on their back, on their chest, in the hair of their brow. Maddening. Almost carnal lust took over.

No. No no no no no. No.

Gortash was panting now, a bitch in heat he was. His black shirt clung to his back, sweat started to run down his under arms. It was hot in the room. His pantaloons felt three sizes too small. The fabric was irritating and raw. It was dizzying.

He shakily, slowly, defeatedly, sat himself down, his eyes hadn’t left the screen once since Tav arrived. The scrying eye lowly followed them still, the reflection on the screen gave Enver a whopping view of their ass. Their thighs, large enough to crush his head between them. Their gait, clearly guarded, but their ass still bulging back and forth, left leg, right leg, through their pants as they walked.

Enver needed relief, from the heat, the stress, the dizziness, the itching worry in the back of his mind, possibly even from Bane’s trust. He didn’t want to see how his body betrayed him, he didn’t let Tav leave his sights still as his hands moved downwards to the strings of his navy pants hurriedly. His fingers nearly getting caught every time he loosened one side of the strings. He lifted his hips, thumbs tucking into the sides of his hips and pushing down his pants, to above his knees. He didn’t wear underwear, he didn’t need to. Not when he only could catch moments like these to have to himself.

He sat his tush on the seat again, breathing through his mouth. He couldn’t get enough oxygen, uneven breaths. His tongue was starting to feel dry as he pushed the tip of it against the roof of his mouth in concentration. His right hand, slightly obscured by his gold gauntlet and pointed fingers, gripped his half-hard on that was peaking through his foreskin. He held it, just holding it at the base as his mind emptied any thoughts of his next steps in his plans. He only saw Tav.

The veins decorating the underside of his cock pulsed under his fingers. He was getting harder the longer he stared at Tav’s ass. His jaw shifted tensely from side to side. What he wouldn’t do to tie, bend, and break them in his presence at this moment--Their ass shook, they were laughing. At something he didn’t care to bother figuring out. Any limpness in his cock was gone as it erected up right and curved towards his stomach slightly. It was painfully red, contrasting the darker base.

He could imagine their lower back tensing as they laughed. He gave his base a squeeze. A low airy sound pushed out of him. Pre-cum oozed out of his ever-reddening tip. He started to stroke, slow and controlled. From the base, to just before the tip. His breathing slowed, he felt like he had control again but lost it all at the same time. Only in this moment did Tav and his needy cock matter.

Enver slightly lifted his hips, thrusting- rutting into his hold on his member. Curving his hips up by inches and down by inches. Over and over in a slow aching pace. Tav could be attainable. Under the tadpole’s control, he could figure out a way to make them his- his thing.

He stopped his movements, lifted his hand to his mouth, gathered as much spit in his dried mouth as he could muster. A pathetic amount stringing onto his middle and fore finger. He set his hand back down, rubbing it on his cock greedily. He picked his pace again, up and down with his hand, reaching the tip this time.

He released a short huffed sigh, his back twitched- removing his lazy posture from the back of the chair. He was hunched over now, neck angled up to keep his eyes on their body. His eyebrows sewn together, giving a very needy expression towards the screen. Hand picking up the pace, the spit had done a shitty job and dried up too quickly. A tacky feeling left behind in his hand. He once more took as much spit as he could gather in his mouth, he tried, he really did. He removed his eyes from the screen, only a flicker, to spit on his cock. The noise he made from aiming and spitting was pathetic. As fast as he flickered his eyes down, they were back on the screen. The image of his red, bulging veins, irritated dick, precum still headed at the top with unbroken surface tension was burned into his mind to regret later. Or possibly day dream.

His hand didn’t stop pumping. He hummed in desperation, a bit broken. He was getting close and he picked up the pace. He didn’t have the energy to stand up but he didn’t want to cum sitting down, it wasn’t as pleasurable. He stood up and kneeled slowly on the seat, his knees adjusting his pose as he sought most pleasurable. One knee ended up on the chairs base, the other on the arm rest with his hips lifted up right. His dick directed at the screens. One hand gripped the unoccupied arm rest to keep his balance. The chair would leave red indents on his knees after, creaky and sore too.

Wrist tired, eyes widened and daunting the one screen he focused on. His hand focused on his mid to tip area of his cock. Hoping to milk the blood to the tip. Hand thrusting at unattainable speeds were it a real person he fucked into. He whimpered a bit, his eyebrow creasing even more as he let out breathy moans. His whole body quivered with his forearm’s grip and fast movement. His hips jutted forward sensitively as he neared his peak. He tried to keep upright but he lost his balance in the pleasure. He let out gasps and tight moans as he keeled forward. Eyes shut and using his imagination to guide him now.

He was so desperate to release, all that build up. He lifted his eyes once more to his favorite monitor and saw through his purple scrying spy; Tav, who had hunched shoulders and hips positioned forward, pretty veiny hands adorning those hips too. Thumbs dipping into their lower back, and fingers gripping the peak of their hips. Their pelvic bone was prominent, or something to his imagination. They seemed relaxed. They were speaking to some bugbear with trades. A smile on their lightly painted lips, their eyes creating crows feet as they giggled a bit. What he wouldn’t do to see their eyes scrunch up at him and their mouth opening and lips curving from something he did to them.

He couldn’t chase his release any farther. He had chased it to the precipice. His body jerked and his hands kept at it. His cum shot out onto the floor and leaked between his pointer and thumb. His cum was warm, very warm. White flashes and hot cold chills ran through his shoulders and arms as he neared the very end of his orgasm. He nn’ed and mm’ed in a whiny pitch. This was the first time that night he had felt anything close to cold. His pace was slower but still brutal as he milked every white drop he could from the puffy tip. He only ran his fingers to his mid base and tip, the most sensitive area he had. Red and irritated. He could relate to his cock in this moment.

His hips jerked unexpectedly again as he stopped cautiously, slightly overstimulating himself.

He steadied and huffed evenly. Catching his breath, he released a large sigh. His hair draped over his eyes and his side burns clung to his face slightly with sweat. His mouth shut and his lips touched. Breathing through his nose. His hand was sticky, his glove was a mess. Cum seeped between the gold metal and his warm fingers. His drooping member was a mess. He slowly, very slowly, unglued his hand from his dick.

He blinked at the stone floors a couple of times, sighing again. He lifted his head up, looking around him. His neck was stiff and terribly tense from his previous position. He got into the chair, like a normal person. Ass bare against the velvet lined cushion. Looking around for anything he could use to clean up his fingers, at the least.

He stilled as he reached down to pick up a tossed set of destitute clothes from previous prisoners, sitting in a crate beside the wall in front of him. He looked up at the blue lit rectangle where Tav taunted him. Tav was now talking to a devout gnome bent on controlling gnolls through the Absolute, the back of Tav’s thighs and ass still took up much of the screen. It was a relief in some places of his mind that the scrying eye was a one way mirror for him.

Tav is as Tav does.

He just jerked it to some stranger. He was sickened a bit. Though, an important stranger. Ketheric, no matter how immortal, wouldn’t last their stubborn goodwill. Gortash would have a chance to meet them, he was sure of it. Maybe their next meeting shouldn’t be on his mind while he twisted and wrang his fingers from his cum.

This wouldn’t be the last time he saw Tav. He knew it. This wouldn’t be the last time he sought relief in them either.

[pinguwrites]

Black Heart | Chapter One: Evening Cigarettes

Pairing -> Thomas Shelby x fem!poc!reader

Summary -> The year is 1920, and you have no idea how you got here. One moment, you were in your bed, and the next, you were lying in a field of grass, thousands of miles away from home. All you know is that you're in a small town called Birmingham, and you need money. Fortunately, the local gangster is in the market for an accountant, and you're in the market for a job.

Warnings -> swearing, mentions of racism, suicide joke, reader kinda has a dark sense of humor, tommy being a bit of an ass, sorry for the short chapter

REWRITTEN 9/29/23 - CURRENTLY ON HOLD

Word count: 1.8k

Disclaimer: Peaky Blinders characters, plots, quotes, etc. do not belong to me and belong to the rightful owner(s). This is only fanfiction and this is just for fun.

Series Masterlist

There wasn’t much to be said about Birmingham. It was a small city, located somewhere in England, filled with dirty streets and coal-stained men and nothing of any interest at all. For the past few days, you had been walking around the place in an almost dream-like haze, searching for food scraps and pieces of suitable clothing, wondering why the fuck you were here and how.

It’s all those movies you’ve been watching, your mom’s voice rings in your head. Too much fantasy and not enough reality. 

A part of you wondered if you should have listened to her words, if this world you were now a part of was the result of an overactive imagination and a desperate desire to escape reality. Maybe this was some cruel trick the universe decided to play on you, maybe you had passed out and all of this was a sort of long-term coma. Perhaps it was a mass prank and everyone here was just actors — but you thought that to be highly unlikely, given, you know, common sense. 

The only other possibility you could come up with was time travel. Even if it was probable, there were so many questions: Why you? Why this time? 

No, you’d just stick to the most simple and likely answer: you were fucking insane. Right now, in the real world, you were being locked up in some mental facility, strapped to a bed, and being monitored by doctors and nurses. Your mom was in tears, wondering where she had gone wrong with raising her daughter, and you were oblivious, wandering around in the year 1920, with no way to get back.

You kicked a pebble, watching it roll across the dirt ground. While that was the going theory, you still didn’t know what to do. Your instinct to survive was just as strong as any other day, and you were still plagued with hunger, pain, and fear.

So far, you had no proper shelter, no stable source of food and water (though the nearby well and some restaurant scraps were doing just fine for now), and you had nothing acceptable to wear except a dirty gray dress you found in some dumpster-like area. You had actually cleaned the damn thing yesterday, but it still had this nasty stench like foul body odor, and a couple of ripped holes. It was at least better than the clothes you were wearing beforehand — a white, loose, crop top and some fuzzy shorts, which had garnered nothing but stares of disgust and pity when you walked around in them. I’m naked to them, you realized, and that was when you made the endeavor to search for new clothing; as well as the fact that your modern outfit was doing nothing to protect you from the bitter chill. 

Not that this dress was doing any better. You predicted that you would die soon from the weather. Probably in your sleep. While you hadn’t found any shelter, you did find a little corner by the side of an apartment building. That’s where your body would be found, all frozen to death like meat in a fridge. But what else were you supposed to do? It was the best place you had.

You continued walking down the road, kicking that same pebble again. Your toes and fingers were numb and you were sure that you were going to get a cold, though that was the least of your worries.

The sky was a dark gray and it seemed like it was going to rain soon. You looked up from the ground and glanced over the area, a habit you picked up ever since you saw someone getting mugged here. The entire city of Birmingham felt like a small town, with its little businesses and shops along the side of the unpaved road. Occasionally a few people would walk past you. They would either ignore you and mind their own business, or stare at you like you were some exotic specimen. Fucking racist pricks.

You reached into your bag — thank god you had a bag on you when you were transported here — and pulled out your phone. It was dead, but you kept checking it out of habit. Not like you could call anyone even if it was charged, but it would have been nice to spend your last moments watching a good movie or scrolling through old pictures to reminisce about the past. 

Everything else in the bag was just hand sanitizer, a mask from COVID days (oh, God, what if I’m carrying COVID and spread it?), lip balm, and a small pocket knife. All things you were glad to have, but not particularly useful. It would have been nice to have a book on survival in the wilderness, or a lighter. 

You sighed, your breath coming out in a white smoke in the bitter air. You wanted to crawl into a ball and collapse. You wanted your mom to hold you, or your friends to lighten the mood with silly jokes. Why did this have to happen? Why me?

When you arrived at the apartment you were ready to curl up and sleep, but you noticed a flickering sound, and turned around to see a man, leaning against the wall of the opposite building. 

He was handsome, with a gray cap and a dusty black coat on. He seemed to be stopping only for a moment, lighting the cigarette between his fingers before moving on, but he noticed your stare and gave you a cold look.

“You need something?” he asked, in that same, strong British accent you heard everyone around here speak in.

“No.” You shook your head, feeling a little bad for blatantly staring. “My bad.”

The man took a puff of his cigarette. “Do I know you?”

“I don’t think so, I’ve never seen you before.”

His facial expression didn’t change. It was in that same cold stare. “Do you know who I am?”

“Well, I’ve never seen you before,” you repeated yourself, getting a little irritated. Your day was already going bad — scratch that, your whole week had been a fucking roller coaster, and now you had to deal with an arrogant prick who thought he was shit. “Are you some kind of celebrity?”

“You’re American,” he stated, ignoring your question. “Tell me, Miss . . .?”

“[Y/N],” you said.

“Miss [Y/N]. Tell me what a girl like you is doing in Birmingham?”

“I’m not quite sure,” you responded honestly. “What are you doing here?” you asked, not enjoying his attitude. “What’s your name?”

“You’re a cheeky lass, sweetheart.” He grinned a little, amused, like this was all funny to him. “My name is Thomas Shelby. And this is my town.” He paused, his grin dropping. A horrible feeling sunk in your gut. “I ought to know who lives in my town, eh?”

He took a puff of his cigarette. “Come here, sweetheart.” 

You hesitated but walked forward a little, ready to run at a moment’s notice. He had that dumb hairstyle every man here was rocking, but it fit him. It made him look nice.

You didn’t say anything. Neither did he. But then the man called Thomas Shelby offered you a cigarette and asked, “Are you a whore?”

You stood there, stunned, not accepting his offer. “No.”

He looked you up and down again. “How old are you? Twenty-three? Twenty-four?”

“Eighteen.”

He didn’t say anything to that or indicate that he was surprised.

“You have family ‘round here?”

You shook your head, thoughts running wild.

He must be a gangster. Like Al Capone, only British, you thought, feeling nervous. What was he going to do to you? He wouldn’t harm you, would he?

Of course he’s going to harm you. That’s what men like him do.

“Ran away, eh? Nice story.”

“I never said I ran away,” you said, thinking you ought to stop this conversation right now and bolt in the opposite direction out of this town.

“Then what happened?” He walked closer to you. His face was neutral, but you could tell he was suspicious, otherwise he wouldn’t be asking all these questions. “I’m not going to ask again.”

“Good. Now, will you leave me alone?” Your voice dropped to a more quiet tone. “Please?”

Mr. Shelby looked like he was thinking. “This isn’t a safe place for young girls like you,” he finally said. “You shouldn’t be out here,” he gestured to the streets, “alone, with no one to protect you.”

“I’m doing just fine” you retorted, but made an effort to sound as polite as you could. 

“Fine?” He took a look at your clothing. “Yes, very suitable. I’m sure you enjoy being homeless.”

“I’m not homeless,” you defended, even though you were, indeed, homeless. 

Being reminded of your hopeless situation made tears pricked at your eyes, and you felt silly for wanting to cry, especially in front of him, but it was all just so hard. You didn’t feel right getting upset, other people had and were facing worse, but all you could think about was how much you wanted to eat a hot home-cooked meal and a nice bed to sleep in.

“Are you going to cry?” he asked.

“Do you like it when people cry?”

“Not particularly.”

“Then you should leave me alone, because I probably will.”

You averted your eyes, feeling ashamed for admitting that to a random stranger, a stranger who was probably judging you right now, a stranger who was probably a fucking criminal.

Mr. Shelby walked even closer, to the point where you were now just a feet apart. You could see the freckles scattered across his face.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out some paper money, handing it over to you. “You see that building?” He pointed to the one beside you, the one you’d been sleeping behind. “This should be enough to get you a few day’s stay.”

You were stunned, hesitantly taking the pounds and blinking the tears away. “What do you want from me?”

“Nothing.” He shrugged. “Just doing a decent man’s work, sweetheart.” He looked into your eyes. “Last I remember, the landlady of this building is hiring a maid. Ask her about it, tell her that Thomas Shelby referred you here.”

You agreed, not wanting to say anything that would make him change his mind, but you were still wondering why he changed his mind. Did he like it when girls cried? Did it make him feel like a hero? Was he planning to use you later for something? You didn’t know, and no matter how many times you tried to guess, it was useless, because you couldn’t tell what he was thinking. 

“Thank you, sir,” you breathed out, feeling a little bad for your snippiness. 

He nodded his head at you, lingering for a moment before walking in the opposite direction. You watched him until he was out of sight, a warm feeling in your tummy.

You walked into the apartment, finally inside a building for the first time in a while. You told the landlady, an old Asian woman, that Mr. Shelby had referred you to this place and the job. She took the money and eagerly offered you a room to stay, though you noticed a fearful hint in her eyes.

She got you a warm bath, saying that you must tell Mr. Shelby that she was very happy to take you in — subtlety, of course, and lead you to your new room.

You laid down on the bed, taking in the comfort of the sheets. Very quickly, you fell asleep, drifting off into a slumber after a long day.

[froztypine]

There is something that I saw in a fanfiction (smut of course) that I would love to experience…

Some kind of magic flashlight targets me, with both holes just held in a cylindrical tube. Both holes twitching as if they can see you staring at me.

You blow gently against my cunt and while I’m eating in a public place I feel a shiver but think nothing about it. In the privacy of your bedroom but watching me through a protection, you gently touch the outside and petting the labia. I startle and start looking around, trying to find the origin of the touch.

As you keep touching, I keep on being increasingly panicked that I am getting fingered in public, and despite the circumstances I am getting wet. When your fingers finally breach my hole, I quickly cover my mouth to muffle my moan. Trying to avoid any more embarrassment I slap some cash onto the table and rush out, food only half finished.

Driving home frantically while brightly flushed, I keep squirming and when I get home I can’t remember anything about the drive except the edging pleasure. The moment I’m in the bedroom I strip completely, and before I can collapse onto the bed you stick your giant cock inside.

This time I can’t muffle my scream, both in pleasure and pain as I come for the first time around you. The flashlight in your hand starts to squelch as you keep pounding into me. Suddenly it stops, leaving me panting. A gentle kiss touches my asshole, and I suddenly freeze. Nobody has touched there before. A finger starts prodding at me, and I frantically grab the lube and trying to make sure you don’t go in dry, tears in my eyes from the helplessness I feel to stop this from happening.

The first time my asshole got penetrated by your dick it hurt so much, the muscles getting ripped open and some red streaks appear. Yet as the pounding continues, it starts to feel good. My hand reaches down and starts frantically rubbing my clit and three fingers easily fit into my pussy after your dick ruined my hole.

All of the stimulation, both in my pussy and ass makes me constantly moan, and I come for the third time squirting all over my face. You keep on using the flesh light, with inhuman stamina. Even having come three times, I chase the next one until the fourth orgasm is almost painful with overstimulation. And yet you keep going.

Exhausted, I lay all the way back on my pillows and wet sheets, moaning all the while. I completely go limp and just take the rough treatment of my ass, shuddering when you reach up and start pinching at my clit. I groan and start to plead with the invisible force that is fucking me, begging with my horse voice to let me go. My fifth orgasm is hardly noticed, simply a tightening of my ass and pussy and trembling all over. Eventually I pass out from sheer exhaustion.

I wake up, absolutely sticky with my dried squirt juices on my body, face, and hair. I slowly roll out of bed, all my muscles protesting. Stumbling into the shower I watch in fascination as your cum and my blood slowly drip down my thighs and onto the shower floor. Clearly, you’ve kept fucking me while I was asleep, and I unconsciously lick my lips.

You still have the flesh light, will I be at your mercy again? How far will you take it? I can’t help but moan a bit in anticipation of what’s to come.

[chronic-escapixt]

His Rose ~ Part 3

(Kai Parker x Bennett OC fanfiction)

content warnings/tags ~ Dark fiction, CNC, dubcon, yandere, murder, abuse, trauma, innocence kink, dacryphilia, smut, masturbation, size kink, p in v, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, manipulation. Minors DNI

I don't claim ownership of The Vampire Diaries or its characters. All credits go to the rightful owner(s). I only own my original character(s).

Word count: 2.7k

K.P. Masterlist

His voice was silky in a way that sent shivers down her spine yet so sarcastic and humorous that he could make her smile and giggle like an airhead until it was beyond embarrassing. He talked with his hands so she learned to watch them more than his mouth, though he equally performed with his lips. The dark and silver rings he started wearing made them more of a spectacle and she fantasized about how his skilled fingers could pleasure and punish her body. 

Whether they were preparing for the eclipse or handling mundane activities, her mind drifted but she tended to keep her daydreams at bay.

Night was entirely another story.

All she had was her stuffed lamb to keep her company. While lamby was a good listener and offered the softest cuddles, she couldn’t stop thinking about how he would feel in her bed. Some nights she fully got off to the thought of him entering her room when he thinks she’s sleeping, feeling the bed dip under his weight, then the ripping of her nightdress from her skin, his strong arms hiking her legs over his shoulders and using her like a fucktoy for his pleasure like the gangsters and brutes would do to the pure damsels in her favorite novels, consumating a twisted romance built on passion and control. Pushing her face into the pillows she tried to quiet her moans but a few would slip free.

He was not only observant but hungry. He noticed everything, how she reacted to him when they were close, her muffled moans through the thin walls that left him throbbing all night, the way she took extra care to style her curls every morning, put on a little extra mascara, and exclusively dressed in flowy dresses and mini skirts. He knew what she wanted but she was too shy to ask for it so he had fun messing with her, breaking her down with his subtle advances until she was just as starved. He was a wolf and she was a fluffy unsuspecting bunny and as much as he craved her tender flesh, he loved the chase. 

One morning, he found her straining on her tiptoes to reach a jar of jam on a high shelf and came up behind her, grabbing it down with ease while caging her small form threateningly, staying there longer than necessary. The lingering proximity made her curse under her breath. His heat and scent intoxicating, lowering her inhibitions enough that her body betrayed her, arching into him. Brushing against his body for the briefest moment, enough to surprise him, making him intake a sharp breath and stiffen. He struggled to regain his composure as she turned and grabbed the jar from his hands with a rushed, “thank you.” 

She couldn’t slip out from under him before he snatched her wrists and pinned her to the marble counter, his primal growl rumbling in her ears.

“You feel that, kitten?” His hips bucked into her, pressing his hard-on against the groove of her ass. She responded with a gasp. “Don’t tell me you thought you were gonna’ grind your cute little ass on me then leave me all hot n’ bothered..”

She scoffed at him, “maybe I was… It’s not like you’re gonna’ do anything about it.” Her defiant body wriggled against him, in turn he snatched a fistful of her curls eliciting a desperate whine from the back of her throat.

“Such a brat.. m’ gonna’ have to fuck that outta’ you, huh?” He reached down, hiking up her skirt, fondling her mound which had grown damp with his teasing. “Always walking around in these tiny skirts, s’ like you’re begging me to ruin you,” he mused as he freed his cock, sliding her panties aside and finally plunging into her silky heat with one brutal thrust. 

“Hey, Kai… uhh Kai?” She pulled him from his mind-consuming fantasy. 

“… huh?” His throat bobbled.

“Can you grab that flour for me too? I’m making puff pastry for breakfast.” He placed the sack of flour on the counter, not taking his eyes off of her. 

“Do you want some?” With her head tilted to look up at him, doe eyes wide and soft lips forming that adorable pout, she looked way too corruptible. His pants strangled him. 

“I’d like that,” he rasped. 

So she started on the pastry while he slipped away to the bathroom where he rubbed one out to the thought of her pretty lips around his cock. 

Sticks crunched beneath their feet along the forest trail as they walked off their breakfast.

“If you could siphon my magic the whole time, why not do the locator spell yourself?” She asked.

Kai faced her, walking backwards a few paces ahead. “I already knew I could do it and since you’re the one who has to do the spell to get us out of here, I needed to make sure you could use your magic.”

“Could you show me?” Her sweet voice sounding small and slightly uncertain, made him stop in his tracks. She stepped toward him, holding out her hand. “I want you to siphon my magic…. It will come back right?” 

“Uh.. yeah. I’ll just take a little bit.” He reached toward her, but paused with a hesitant glance. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” 

She nodded with conviction, “Yes, I am.” 

He took her hand and concentrated. An orange glow blossomed to the surface of her skin, accompanied by a tingly feeling like tv static or a limb starting to fall asleep. He released a shaky breath before letting go of her. She touched her hand as the feeling faded.

He knelt down and hovered his palm over a patch of soil, uttering a short spell. Moments later, an white petaled wildflower grew up from the little sprout. He plucked it and handed it to her, tiny goosebumps shot up her arm when their fingers brushed each other.

“You’re really good with magic,” she commented.

“Actually, I was going for a rose, but a daisy is cool too, I guess..” He shrugged. He rubbed his lips together as his eyes took in her sultry mouth. Her perfect cupid’s bow and plump lips that looked edible and oh so tempting. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Her brow knit in curiosity.

His eyes flickered down. “I guess I’m kinda nervous.”

“Why?”

“Well- I mean- you’re like- you're really pretty,” he stammered, shifting nervously on his feet.

The butterflies in her stomach flapped their wings all at once, tickling her ribcage and a laugh burst out her mouth making her fluster more. “Thanks...” she whispered shyly.

“Ugh, just’ made it awkward, didn't I? Sorry. I have no filter sometimes…”

“It's okay. You’re really sweet.” She twirled the stem between her fingertips.

As he noticed the sun getting low an idea occurred to him.

“Where are you taking me?” She asked as they cut through heavy brush just off the trail.

“It’s a surprise,” he shot back with a wink.

He brought her to a clearing just before a rocky bluff that overlooked a crystal lake. The view was breathtaking, the orange sunset darkened to shades of red with purple fading in from above.

“Wow Kai, this is the most beautiful view I’ve ever s-” Her words left her when she noticed him stripping down, torso already bare as he discarded his belt. “What are you doing?”

He chuckled in response as he wordlessly rid himself of his cargo pants and stood only in boxer briefs. She tensed when he took quick strides toward her, scanning down his sculpted body with her eyes, snapping up from the prominent outline in his boxers the moment he spoke.

“Are you just gonna stare at me or are you gonna come?” His tone dripping with cockiness. 

“I-I wasn’t st- w-wha- come?!” It was her turn to stumble over her words.

He just shrugged, turned and ran before leaping over the edge. 

“Kai!” she called out.

He burst up to the water’s surface and waved her forward. “Come on, Rose!” 

“I-It’s too… cold,” she lied, hugging herself to sell her faux chills. 

“The water feels fineee,” he sang while floating on his back. 

“I don’t have a bathing suit!” 

“You don’t need one! C’mon, are you really gonna’ make me swim alone?” He pressured her with a pout.

Her weak resolve crumbled. “Okay fine...” 

He smiled to himself as she raised her shirt but stopped when she narrowed her eyes. “Turn around!” she ordered. He raised his hands in surrender before turning and resisting the temptation to peek while she removed her top and skirt and placed them neatly by his pile.

Heights were up there on her list of fears and the edge was at least 20 feet from the water.

“Am I allowed to turn back now?” His voice cut through her anxiety. She took a deep breath, reared back and dove in. 

He spun around when he heard the water splash, slightly impressed that she actually jumped in after him. The water stirred as she came up from the surface, eyes piercing like a siren, wet curls clinging to her body. An invisible tide seemed to draw them impossibly closer without touching. She leaned into his caress when he reached up to cup her cheek, his thumb moving to gently tug on her lower lip. He lifted her chin, moving closer, teasing her by hesitating a hair away from her lips before she eagerly gave into the mounting tension, pressing her mouth to his in a hungry kiss that he eagerly returned with the same fervor.

Their bodies were intertwined on the rocky shore as they greedily tasted each other. Her fingers tangled in the wet hairs at the nape of his neck, their lips becoming languid and sloppy before they parted in need of oxygen. 

“We should head back to the house,” he whispered against her skin.

“Wait, can we stay a little longer? It’s so beautiful out here,” she smiled up at the twilight sky, the atmosphere was perfect, “… and I need you right now.”

He reclaimed her lips and explored her body with his hands, her supple thighs, the soft skin of her waist, and the swell of breast. She knowingly reached back and unclasped her bra, letting the fabric fall before he caressed them, thumbs rubbing and tweaking the perked buds to her delight.

She eyed him carefully when he pulled away and asked, “Are you a virgin?” 

“... no.. I was with someone… once,” she admitted softly. 

“Did he make you cum?” 

“No.”

“Then it doesn’t count,” he stated matter-of-factly, leaving trails of fire in the wake of his fingers on her inner thigh. “Did he ever.. eat you?”

She swallowed as his touch neared her clothed core, “n-no…”

His chuckle warmed her skin, “I can take two of your firsts tonight, if you let me.”

“... yes… please…” She sounded so breathy and needy.

He lowered himself down her body, kissing every square inch of skin along the way before he reached her trembling core. Watching as he stripped her of her panties, the instinct to hide herself neutralized by the grip he kept on her inner thigh, his cold rings biting into her flesh. He studied her delicate flower, the swollen bud darkened with arousal. 

He inhaled her. "Rose, you're fuckin perfect.."

She blushed and whimpered when she felt him delve in with his warm tongue. Heat blossomed in her belly, hips uncontrollably bucked against his mouth. 

“Sit still for me, princess.”

She obliged as best she could, thankful for his anchor-like grip. His tongue moved with deliberate expertise, parting her puffy folds so he could drink her from the source, thrusting in and out, drawing whimpers and slick that he swallowed down like sweet nectar.

Her fingers carded themselves through his damp hair, tugging at the roots, his hum of approval vibrating against her heat. She clenched around his fingers when two slid in knuckle-deep, working her over the edge in quick tandem with his skillful tongue. Her moans spurred him on, so pornographic he would have doubted they escaped her shy little mouth. 

“Please… Kai, I-I’m gonna…” 

Each flick of his tongue and brush of his diligent fingers had her seeing stars, she didn’t want it to end. He built her up gradually until the harsh sucking of her clit toppled her over the edge. It was like music when she arched and released a chorus of moans into the twilight air. Her climax gushed into his mouth messily as he continued slurping her up, her body trembled and whimpered from oversensitivity. 

“Ahh.. mmm, Kai…” she pushed weakly at his shoulder.

He was a sinful vision, reluctantly pulling away to beam up at her with a cheshire grin, jaw glistening with her juices, lips pink and swollen. She was still reeling, curls disheveled and flat, mascara running, chest rising and falling, face red as a cherry as she tried to catch her breath. Kai ruined her so perfectly but he wanted to do so much more. He kissed her, letting her taste her lingering flavor on his lips.

Only a bit of maroon peeked out over the horizon, so they hurried back to the house before it was completely dark. 

Her back barely touched the duvet before he pounced, grabbing at her waist and thighs to position her legs at either side of the bed, sucking on her neck and collarbone, fingers digging into her skin as they roamed likely to leave a mosaic of bruises by morning, but he relished in the little whimpers that escaped when he groped her a little too hard or bit down on the tender skin behind her ear, before soothing it with wet kisses. He impatiently rut his hips into hers, their moans harmonizing at the contact.

“Kaiiii…” she whined, too drunk on him feel ashamed of her neediness, “please…” 

He smiled down at her, satisfied with his work. 

Upon freeing his cock and stepping out of his briefs his member stood tall against his abdomen, already pulsing with need as precum pearled at the flushed tip. She audibly gasped at the sight. 

He grin at this. “ya’ nervous, sweets? Wondering’ how my big cock is gonna’ fit inside you, huh?” he teased her while giving himself a few good pumps.

“Pleaseee.. fuck me already,” she begged, the anticipation made her legs twitch and core clench with need.

He swallowed her desperate pleas, claiming her mouth in a sloppy kiss of clashing tongues while collecting the arousal from her puffy folds with the head of his cock. Her breath hitched as he stretched past her tight resistance. He paid close attention, careful not to get lost in his own pleasure. He did want her to enjoy it too so she’d come back for more. 

“Breathe, baby… I’m only half way- fucking god… you’re so tight…”

She sucked in a full breath as silent tears spilled down her cheeks but he kissed them away, savoring the salty fluid like a treat he earned, one he was determined to taste again.. and again. A broken sob escaped her lips when he sank the rest of the way in, her tight walls pulsing violently as she melded to his length.

“There’s no way you’re not a virgin…” he groaned, muscles straining as he waited for her to adjust. Her tears stopped but eyes still glistened beautifully. Trembling legs wrapped around his waist, his cock so overwhelmingly deep she could feel him in her belly, her core still drawing him deeper begging for more.

“please, I’m ready….” she breathed out.

His thrusts began with a steady rhythm, their moans mingling together with the creaking bed frame. “You’re.. taking me so well,” he croaked, closing his eyes to savor the way her velvet walls swallowed up each thrust, quickly reducing him to a sloppy, moaning mess. He rubbed her tender clit, making her belt out her orgasm before releasing his own. 

Their spent bodies curled up together.

Rose stirred in bed, feeling around for his warmth when her eye popped open and confirmed his absence. Her shower thoughts were filled with the memories of his diligent hands, wicked tongue and massive cock that she felt in the residual aching of her sex. While scrunching conditioner through her hair she wondered why Kai wasn’t there when she woke up, her imagination running wild with the idea that their amazing night together was maybe not so great for him. But Rose tried to think the best, like she did with most things but her doubts nagged at her until she found him in the kitchen, standing over a hot skillet of pancakes. The table set with fresh orange juice, bacon and eggs that she shockingly didn’t smell earlier. 

Kai turned when he heard her come in. 

“Morning,” he greeted with a chaste kiss to her forehead and a bouquet of red roses he pulled from behind. She stared, unsure what to say. Her stunned silence unnerved him so he piped up, “I woke up really early and you were still sleeping so I didn’t want to wake you… and we were running low on food, so I went to the store and I found these roses that reminded me of y-” She interrupted his ramblings with her lips, instantly reassuring him. He smiled against her mouth.

“What was that for?”

“To thank you.”

“Oh… any time, Rosy.” 

“Rosy?” She giggled at the nickname. 

“Well, your face gets all rosy when we’re together,” his breath tickled her ear, “and now I know you blush everywhere else too…”

She poked him in the ribs playfully. “Kaiiii..” she whined as he nipped at her neck. 

Thick smoke started rising from the skillet. “Kai.. Kai! Your pancakes are burning!” 

“Oh shit!”