#FINALLY SIGNED ITTT

[v-lustale]

[kirammanswifey]

《Bound by Darkness》

Silco

writer's note: i had so many emotions while writing this, it felt too personal. idon't support this kind of relationship in any way and i don't think is right at all, but i must accept that is a dynamic that it has too much to explore, and with silco's personality... it's just makes sense, whatever i hope u guys like it ittt. this little (pretty long) scenarios comes from my arcane imagines, i'll let the link down there for anyone is interested, also i'll be posting a story for each one of those scenarios for this week, tomorrow it's ekko's turn ;)

link:

warnings: smut, toe fetish, humiliation, voyeur and exhibitionist tendencies, toxic relationship, manipulation, silco's kinda a sugar daddy.

You walk slowly between the shadows and artificial lights of the gallery, feeling out of place amid the pretentious laughter and admiring murmurs of the guests. Your heels echo on the marble floor, a rhythm that seems more sincere than any conversation around you. You didn’t come here for the love of art; you came because someone invited you, promising "opportunities." But all you've found are overly sweet champagne glasses and abstract paintings that seem like an elaborate joke.

You stop in front of one particularly absurd piece: a huge red stain on a white canvas, accompanied by a plaque that describes it as "the existential suffering of modernity." You sigh, letting out a murmur you didn’t intend to share:

"Existential suffering? Looks more like someone spilled their expensive wine."

"A sharp observation," replies a deep, calculated voice from behind you. It’s so unexpected that you turn immediately, finding yourself face to face with a tall man dressed impeccably in a dark suit. His perfectly styled hair, piercing green eyes, and a scar crossing his face like a badge of a battle won. He doesn’t smile, but there’s something in his expression that seems... satisfied.

"And who are you? The unofficial art critic of the night?" you ask, crossing your arms as you look him over.

"Something like that," he responds, his voice low, almost intimate. "Though I must admit, I rarely find such accurate comments among these... crowds."

"Oh, really? Well, I wasn’t expecting to meet someone not dazzled by the 'existential suffering' of a stain."

He steps a little closer, barely invading your personal space. His presence is almost suffocating, as if he fills the room with an authority that doesn’t need to be proclaimed. "True art doesn’t need explanation," he says, looking at the painting with disdain. "Only the insecure try to justify it with words."

You laugh, a light chuckle that’s not entirely genuine. "Well, I guess we found something in common. Though I’m not sure that’s a good sign."

"That depends," he replies, his eyes fixed on you as though he’s already made an important decision. "What brought you here? You don’t seem like the type who frequents places like this."

"And you do, I suppose," you retort with a mocking smile. "Let me guess: you're a misunderstood art lover here to find inspiration."

For the first time, a smile, or something resembling it, crosses his face. "Close, but not quite. I’m here for business."

"How convenient. I’m here because someone promised me 'an enriching experience.' So far, all I’ve found are empty glasses and boring conversations."

His eyes gleam with something you can’t quite identify: curiosity, interest, maybe even amusement. "Maybe you’re looking in the wrong places."

"And you? Have you found what you were looking for?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.

He doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he observes you in silence, as though weighing every word he could say. Finally, he replies, "Maybe."

The rest of the night passes in conversations that aren’t superficial but aren’t completely sincere either. You talk about ambition, about how power can be as addictive as it is dangerous. He listens with an intensity that makes you feel exposed, as if every word you say is a thread he’s willing to pull to unravel who you really are.

Eventually, you find yourself with a glass of wine in hand, in a quieter corner of the gallery. He’s beside you, his proximity intimidating, but not unpleasant. "What do you really do? Because you don’t seem like just another businessman," you finally ask.

"And you? What do you really do? Because you don’t seem like just a college student."

His answer leaves you speechless for a moment, but you don’t let him notice. "Touché. Though I must admit, my motives are much... simpler than yours. I need to pay for my university before everything goes to hell."

"Money?" he asks, with a curiosity that seems genuine. "Is that what you're after?"

"No, of course not," you reply with sarcasm. "I’m here for the art, like everyone else."

He lets out a low laugh, barely a sound, but enough to send a chill down your spine. "Maybe we can help each other," he says, his voice almost a whisper.

"Oh yeah? And what do you propose?" you ask, pretending to be uninterested, though the intensity of his gaze makes it hard to keep your composure.

"Simple. I cover your expenses... and you share your time with me."

The proposal is so direct that it leaves you breathless for a moment. You look into his eyes, searching for any sign of a joke, but all you find is seriousness. It’s a deal, a non-verbal contract loaded with implications that you both understand perfectly.

You thought about it for a few minutes. You hadn’t gone there on purpose, you had just gone as a novice artist looking for new opportunities. You wanted to make money through your work, not by being someone’s sex slave. But he wasn’t just anyone, he was different from anyone you had ever met before. He was an older, attractive, cultured man, just your type. In a moment, the proposition didn’t sound so intimidating anymore. Money was money and right now you desperately needed it, besides, you weren’t going to lose anything, on the contrary.

Finally, you smile, leaning in slightly towards him. "I hope you’re clear that my time isn’t cheap."

"Neither is mine," he replies, his tone firm, almost threatening.

The deal is sealed with a raised glass. You both know it’s not just company you’re exchanging; it’s something deeper, darker, and you’re both willing to play.

The night is humid and heavy as you walk toward the restaurant Silco had mentioned. You’d never heard of it before, which is enough to know it belongs to a category inaccessible to most people. The tinted windows and discreet facade offer no clues about what you’ll find inside, but somehow, it seems to fit perfectly with the image of the man who invited you.

As you enter, the air conditioning caresses your skin, and the scent of aged wine and expensive spices envelopes your senses. The place is nearly empty, just a few tables occupied by figures who seem as far removed from your world as Silco himself. He’s already there, seated in a corner with one leg crossed over the other, a glass of whiskey in his hand. His black suit and relaxed posture radiate absolute control, as if this were his domain and you were merely a guest in his world.

“You’re punctual,” he says without standing, his eyes scanning you with an intensity that makes you feel as though he’s dissecting you piece by piece.

“Were you expecting otherwise?” you reply, letting a playful smile tug at your lips as you take a seat across from him.

“No, but it’s always refreshing to confirm someone understands the value of time.”

The waiter appears almost immediately, discreet and efficient, as if he were an extension of Silco’s calculated atmosphere. Silco doesn’t look at the menu; he simply orders a bottle of wine that likely costs more than your monthly rent, then watches you, waiting.

“Are you always this… precise about everything?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as you leaf through the menu, pretending to understand the names of the dishes.

“And are you always looking for answers to questions you already know?” he counters, his words as sharp as a blade.

You hold the menu in your hands, scanning the names of the dishes in French, Italian, and Japanese. You turn it over as if that might help decipher it. In the end, you settle for what seems like a safe choice: “I’ll have the beef carpaccio as a starter and… the lobster risotto as the main course? Assuming it doesn’t blow my budget, of course.”

Silco lets out a low, almost inaudible laugh. “Tonight, you have no budget. Order whatever you want.”

“I’m not used to someone giving me carte blanche,” you murmur, handing the menu to the waiter.

“Then consider tonight an exercise in expanding your horizons.”

The wine arrives shortly after, and as the waiter pours it, you notice how Silco examines every detail: the label on the bottle, the way the liquid flows into the glass, even the waiter’s movements as he steps back. You take a sip and find it surprisingly good, even to your unrefined palate.

“This is… interesting,” you comment, swirling the glass between your fingers.

“Interesting. A safe word,” he replies, leaning forward, his voice reduced to a conspiratorial whisper. “Tell me, is there anything you don’t approach with a layer of caution?”

“I’m not being cautious,” you say, though you both know it’s a lie.

“Of course you are,” he murmurs, his eyes never leaving yours. “But I don’t blame you. It’s a quality many people underestimate.”

The first course arrives: beef carpaccio, thin slices of raw meat dressed with truffle oil, lemon, and a sprinkle of Parmesan. The aroma is as intoxicating as the wine.

“I have to admit, this is new to me,” you say as you pick up your fork and take a bite. The flavor is delicate but full of nuance.

“Fear of the unknown is a weakness,” Silco remarks, slicing a fine strip from his own dish, a foie gras that looks like something out of an art gallery. “Learning to master it is what separates the strong from the rest.”

“And what do you do when the unknown masters you?” you ask, holding his gaze with a hint of defiance.

“That never happens.”

The conversation drifts into broader topics as you share the main course. Your lobster risotto is creamy and perfectly seasoned, while Silco enjoys a wagyu steak paired with a black truffle purée. You talk about ambitions, the cost of success, the sacrifices power demands.

“Have you always known what you wanted?” you ask, leaning forward.

“Since I had the capacity to think for myself,” he replies dryly. “And you? Do you know?”

“More or less. I know what I don’t want, which is a good start, isn’t it?”

“It’s a start, yes,” he concedes, taking a sip of wine. “But the real question is: what are you willing to do to make sure you get it?”

“So many philosophical questions. You’re going to make me feel like I’m in a job interview,” you say, playing with the edge of your glass.

“Maybe you are,” he says, a shadow of a smile curving his lips.

Dessert arrives: a dark chocolate soufflé you share with him. The light texture and bitterness of the cocoa contrast with the sweetness of the dessert wine Silco ordered without even consulting you.

“I didn’t expect you to be the sharing type,” you comment, taking a spoonful.

“I’m not,” he replies, his tone dry. “But I can make exceptions… from time to time.”

When the waiter withdraws for the last time, Silco leans back in his seat, his eyes fixed on you with a burning intensity. “Tell me something,” he says, his voice low and deliberate. “How far are you willing to go for what you want?”

The question catches you off guard, but you don’t let it show. Instead, you hold his gaze, letting a slow, calculated smile spread across your lips. “As far as necessary.”

He nods, as if he expected that answer. “Good. Because the path you’ve chosen isn’t for the weak.”

“And you?” you ask, leaning closer. “How far are you willing to go?”

“I’m already there,” he replies without hesitation, his words carrying a weight you don’t need to fully understand to feel.

The tension between you has become almost unbearable, an invisible thread pulling you toward each other. You don’t know who makes the first move, but suddenly you’re closer to him, the edge of the table disappearing between you.

“This is a game, isn’t it?” you whisper, your lips barely a breath away from his.

“Everything is,” he replies before his lips meet yours.

The kiss is neither soft nor sweet; it’s a clash of wills, a battle for control that neither of you is willing to relinquish. His hand rests on your neck, firm but not aggressive, and the world around you fades, replaced by the intensity of this moment.

Hours later, you stand before a window in his penthouse, the city’s skyline stretching out like a sea of lights. He’s behind you, his presence as tangible as the cold glass beneath your fingers.

“This changes nothing,” you say, breaking the silence.

“Who said it should change anything?” he replies, his tone so calm it almost infuriates you.

You turn to face him, but his expression is unreadable, his face a mask of absolute control. “Just make sure you remember that,” you say, your words as much a challenge as a warning.

“I always do,” he responds, leaning closer with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

And though both of you know you’re playing a dangerous game, neither of you is willing to back down.

He circled around you, devouring you with his gaze. Silco's eyes roamed appreciatively over your curves, the red dress hugging your figure like a second skin. He stepped closer, the heat of his body radiating against your back as he pressed himself against you. His hand reached out, fingers tracing the delicate straps of your dress, toying with them.

"You look... exquisite," he murmured, voice low and smooth like velvet. He leaned in, nose brushing your ear, inhaling deeply. "Love the scent of you. It's intoxicating, just like you."

You almost moaned, but behaved yourself, you didn't wanted him to see you like an easy target. You were going play more, in the dirty meaning, of course.

His other hand rested on your hip, thumb rubbing slow circles through the thin fabric. You could already feel his hard cock against your ass, and it was so fucking magnetic. They way your body responding to his touch. It was almost magical.

Silco's lips curved into a smirk against your neck. "Tell me, my dear... are you wearing anything underneath this dress?" he purred, voice dripping with suggestion.

You smiled, mischievous. He had finally noticed. Although if we put it in a logical context, what was difficult was not to notice. You had chosen that dress especially for this night, it was your hunting dress. It accentuated your figure to perfection, leaving nothing to the imagination. So to tempt your prey you decided to put a hook, and that hook was something as simple as not wearing underwear.

"Why don't you guess?" You whispered, turning around to make eye contact with him. You would show him that you weren't easily intimidated. That he wasn't in the lead in this game of seduction.

His eyes darkened with lust and a hint of danger as they met yours. "Oh, I intend to," he replied, voice a low rumble.

In one swift, fluid motion, Silco spun you around and pinned you against the wall. His hands gripped your wrists, pinning them above your head as he pressed his body flush against yours. The hard lines of his suit-clad body molded to the soft curves of your dress. Was such a sight for sore eyes.

He leaned in, nose brushing the sensitive skin of you neck, inhaling deeply like a hungry man, a hungry man for you. "No lace," he murmured, voice a low rasp. "No silk. Nothing but bare, smooth skin..." His lips brushed the shell of your ear. "And this dress, just begging to be ripped off your delectable body."

One hand released its hold on your wrist to trail slowly down your side, fingers skimming over the red fabric. Silco's touch lingered on the hem of the dress. "Shall I find out if my guess is right, darling?" he breathed, teeth grazing your earlobe.

“I don’t know.” You arched your back like a tired cat, shamelessly rubbing your ass against his boner. “Why don’t you find out for yourself?” There was a challenge in your tone of voice. It was clear and forceful, like your desire for him.

Silco's eyes flashed with hunger at your defiant words. A low growl rumbled in his chest as he slid a hand up your thigh, pushing the hem of your dress gradually higher.

His fingers brushed against the bare skin of your upper thigh, confirming his suspicions. "No panties," he murmured, voice a low rasp. He slid his hand higher, until his fingers grazed the apex of your thighs. "Just as I thought."

And you smiled at him like a total slut. Like you were proud of it. Like you were proud that you walked around and ate in a restaurant without underwear. Living out your fetish fantasy to the limit, and using him in the process. It was perfect in your twisted mind.

And then he claimed your mouth in a searing kiss, plundering your lips with his tongue. He bit at your ower lip, tugging it between his teeth, tempted to rip it apart.

Breaking the kiss, he leaned back to look at you, eyes dark and intense. "Such a naughty girl," he purred. "Teasing me like this. Walking around half-naked." His hand slid further up your thigh, fingers brushing against your bare, slick folds.

"I just wanted to surprise you. Didn't you like it?" You faked a pout, pretending to be hurt in a tender, almost childish way.

Silco chuckled darkly, amused by your bratty behavior. His thumb rubbed slow circles on your lower lip. "Oh, I like your surprise very much," he murmured. "A bit too much, perhaps."

He gripped your chin tighter, forcing you to meet his intense gaze. His eyes raked over your face, lingering on your pouty lips. "The problem is, my dear, surprises like this one have consequences."

To punctuate his point, Silco slid a finger inside your slick folds, feeling your warmth envelop him. A gasp escaped from deep within your throat. It was so unexpected that you had to hold on to his shoulders.

He pumped it slowly, teasingly, watching your reaction. "And the consequences of your surprises are always so... pleasurable."

His hand on your thigh slid up to grip your ass, squeezing the supple flesh. "I should punish you for being such a tease," he growled softly. "For walking around with this pretty little pussy bare and dripping, just begging to be filled."

Damn, why was he so good with words? And with his hands too, he had just one finger in your pussy and it was driving you crazy. The years of experience were evident.

Silco added another finger, pumping them faster, harder. You moaned loudly into his mouth and he couldn't help it. He crashed his lips against yours in a bruising kiss, swallowing your weak gasp. He licked into your mouth, tongue delving deep to taste you. His fingers never stopped their relentless pace, bringing you closer to the edge.

You pulled away, agitated, to take a breath and regain the lead. You took his face in your hand and squeezed hard, with dominance. "Lucky for me, I do enjoy some punishments," You stuck out your tongue to slowly run it along his pronounced Adam's apple until you reached his lips and outlined them delicately with a lot of saliva in between.

Silco approved your actions with a growl. Although, he removed your hand from his face and took yours in return, switching positions. His thin fingers digging into the soft of your flesh.

"Mmm, you're playing with fire, little girl," he murmured, voice a low rasp. His eyes flashed dangerously, but there was a glimmer of admiration in their depths. "You're either very brave or very foolish, taunting me like this."

You didn't give a verbal response, but you did give a physical one. It was enough to just stare at him, blankly. You didn't look away, you didn't lower your eyes for even a second. You weren't going to give in.

He licked his lips. "And I do so love a challenge."

In a flash, Silco had spun you around and walked over to the expensive plush couch, but hadn’t sat down yet. He grabbed you by the hips, creating friction between the two of you. His hands slid down your back, gripping the straps of your dress.

"I'll give you the punishment you're craving," he purred darkly. "I'll fuck you so hard, so thoroughly, that you'll forget everything you know. All you'll remember is the feeling of my cock splitting you open, claiming you."

He leaned in, breath hot against your ear. "And I won't stop until your pretty little cunt is dripping with my cum, until my essence is leaking out of you with every step you take. Until everyone knows who you belong to."

With that, Silco ripped the straps of your dress down, exposing your breasts to the cool air. He latched onto one nipple, sucking and biting the sensitive bud as his hands groped and squeezed the newly exposed flesh.

“Yeah? Wouldn’t you rather see your cum on my feet?” You managed to say between labored breaths, your leg coming up and sliding over his. “Do you think I’m blind or stupid? I’ve noticed your particular interest in my feet ever since I met you. You even noticed today that I had a pedicure done and told me that the pastel blue color I had on from the day of the gallery looked better on me. You have a thing for feet. You’re a fucking pervert. Do you want to fuck my feet? Is that what you want, old man?” You were teasing him, oh, and you were having so much fun.

Silco’s eyes darkened with lust and a hint of anger at your provocation. He took your leg and lifted it up to touch your foot, luckily for both of you, you were pretty flexible so it wasn’t a problem. “Careful, little girl,” he growled. “Keep pushing me and I might just take you up on your offer.”

He leaned in closer, nose brushing against your ankle. "I've imagined bending you over and fucking your pretty little feet. Painting your toenails white with my cum. Marking you as mine in the most degrading ways possible."

His hand slid up your calf, squeezing the firm muscle. "But I want more than that. I want to ruin you completely. Shatter you into a million pieces and put you back together as my perfect little fuck toy."

Silco's voice was a low, dangerous rasp. He nipped at your Achilles tendon. "I want to fuck your every hole until you're a drooling, cock-drunk mess. Until the only thing you understand is the feeling of my dick pounding into you."

He licked a stripe up your sole, tongue swirling around your toes. "So keep taunting me, darling. Push me. Give me a reason to absolutely destroy you." His eyes flashed with sadistic promise. "I'll make all your dirty little fantasies come true. And so many more."

"Stop barking, and do it." You said, like an insolent brat. You finished taking off your dress, now all glorious and naked you sat on the couch, facing him. You raised your legs and showed him your feet in a very suggestive way. "Look at them. They're ready for you."

A wicked grin spreading across his face as he took in the sight of your naked body splayed out on his couch. You were offering to him in a golden plate, with feet and everything. His gaze lingered on your exposed pussy, already glistening with arousal.

He began to slowly removed his suit jacket. His shirt followed, buttons scattering across the floor. Your eyes roamed over his scarred, thin yet muscular chest, the sight of his physique sending a thrill through you. He was definitely a dangerous man with a even more dangerous past. And the scariest part was that you weren't even scared. Not even a little bit.

Silco knelt down in front of you, gripping your ankles. He brought your feet to his mouth, kissing along your arches reverently. "Such beautiful feet," he murmured. "So delicate. So perfect."

He licked between your toes, tongue delving between them, tickling you.

You were trying to stop yourself from laughing. It was so pathetic the way he was degrading himself for you. A powerful, billionaire man was drooling all over your feet like crazy. And all for feet. You had never understood that fetish. Feet weren’t attractive to you at all, they were just feet, and sometimes they smelled bad, and that definitely wasn’t a turn on. But in the end, who were you to judge?

Silco's tongue flicked out, licking a long stripe up your sole. He groaned at the taste of your skin, the texture of your soft feet against his tongue. He suckled on your toes, lips sealing around each one as he savored the flavor.

His hands slid up your calves, gripping your thighs possessively. "Wrap those pretty feet around my cock." he commanded roughly.

He freed his thick, hard length from the confines of his pants. The bulbous head was already leaking with arousal, a bead of precum dripping from the tip. Silco rubbed it teasingly along the arch of your foot, coating your skin with his essence.

"Warm it up for me, darling," he ordered darkly. "Get my cock nice and slick with your spit."

You didn't wait for him to tell you a second time, you got close enough and spat a considerable amount of saliva on his cock. "Come on, fuck them now. I know you crave them." You hummed, rubbing your fingers toes across his face.

With a feral growl, Silco gripped your ankles tightly and positioned the spit-slick head of his cock against the arch of your foot. He rubbed it along the soft skin, coating your foot thoroughly with your own saliva.

"Fuck, you're such a dirty little cock slut," he panted, voice heavy with arousal. "Desperate to have your feet defiled, to be used as a cheap fuck toy."

Cheap. That word hurt your pride. It was as if he was reminding you of your place and position. And indeed, he was.

With a sharp thrust of his hips, Silco forced the head of his cock past your toes, pushing into the tight, slick channel of your foot. He groaned at the exquisite sensation of your silky skin gripping his sensitive flesh.

Pumping his hips, Silco fucked your foot with slow, deliberate strokes. The wet, obscene sounds of flesh slapping against flesh filled the room as he used your eagerly offered appendage to pleasure himself.

"That's it, darling. Take my cock like the foot slut you are," he grunted, picking up the pace of his thrusts. "I'm going to fuck your pretty little feet until they're red and raw. Until you can't walk straight."

"You're really having fun there, old man!" You laughed openly at him, you couldn't help it. You needed to humiliate this powerful man. This man who had called you cheap.

Silco flashed a wicked grin at your teasing laughter, not slowing his frantic pace as he fucked your foot with desperate abandon. "Oh, you have no idea how much I'm enjoying this, you little minx," he growled. "I've wanted to ruin these perfect feet for so long. To claim them. To mark them as mine."

He brought your other foot to his mouth, sucking two of your toes deep inside. He licked and swirled his tongue around them, tasting her them again, before releasing them with a wet pop. "You taste divine, darling. Like sin and temptation wrapped in soft, delicate skin."

"How poetic," Your tongue was covered in sarcasm.

Silco's thrusts became more erratic, his heavy balls slapping against the heel of your foot with each desperate pump of his hips. "Keep laughing, darling. Keep taunting me. It only makes me want to use these feet even more."

He gripped your ankle tightly, pulling your foot further down his thick, pulsing shaft. The head of his cock pushed against the ball of your foot, leaking copious amounts of precum. With a final, brutal thrust, Silco buried himself balls-deep into the tight, slick channel of your foot. His cock throbbed and jerked as he found his release, thick ropes of hot cum erupting from the tip to coat your skin.

"Fuck." he roared, eyes squeezing shut in ecstasy.

You looked at your cum-covered feet with an indifferent grimace.

Silco's eyes flashed dangerously as he sensed your boredom. In seconds, he grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back roughly. He dragged you across the polished marble floor of his penthouse, towards the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the glittering city.

You stumbled and bent over willingly as Silco positioned you onto the crystal of the window. Your naked body now on lewd display for any prying eyes that might look up from the streets below. The transparent windows offered no modesty, no privacy.

Panting harshly, Silco gripped himself and slapped his sensitive, spit-slick cock against your dripping slit. He was hard again. With one brutal thrust, he hilted himself inside you, burying his thick shaft to the balls in your tight, clutching heat. He groaned gutturally at the exquisite sensation.

Your eyes rolled back. Finally, some action.

"That's it, my little whore," he snarled, fingers twisting cruelly in your hair. "Take my cock like the desperate slut you are. I'm going to fuck you right here, where anyone can see what a dirty little cock sleeve you are for me."

Those words echoed through your mind and blew your brain cells off.

“Fuck, you’re lucky I took my pills. You didn’t even put on a fucking condom!” You moaned, taking his cock so well, your boobs grinding against the glass, creating a wonderful friction. Unintentionally, you looked up at the night view. It was wonderful. A paradise of lights and stars. From one second to the next your mind wandered to the possibility that someone was watching them right now, the walls of your pussy contracting at the thought.

Silco smirked cruelly at your breathless words, not slowing his punishing pace as he slammed into you again and again. The windows rattled with each powerful thrust, the night air chilling your sweat-slicked skin. "Lucky indeed," he growled.

He leaned over you, breath hot against your ear as he fucked you harder, deeper. "Imagine it, darling. Someone spotting us through the windows, seeing what a brazen slut you are for my cock. They'd watch as I ruin your tight little cunt, pumping you full of my seed. Watch as it leaks out of you, marking you as my property."

The picture Silco painted for you was too exciting, you had always had that fantasy. Of being watched or watching in sex. Which combined with your exhibitionist tendencies right now was making you lose your mind. Not to mention how well Silco's cock stretched you, it was as if it had been tailor made for you.

Silco's hand released your hair to grip your hip bruisingly, pulling you back onto his pistoning cock. "Maybe it's a group of my men, watching their boss claim his whore. Or perhaps a curious passerby, getting an eyeful of your slutty body bouncing on my dick. It doesn't matter. I want you to imagine them seeing you like this. A filthy little fuck toy, existing only for my pleasure."

He licked a stripe up you neck, tasting the salt of your sweat. "Now be a good girl and scream for me, darling. Let all of the city hear who you belong to. Who makes you feel this good."

And so you screamed. You couldn't takenit anymore. You came between sobbings and incoherent words, spams all over your body. It was magnificent.

Silco felt the way your pussy clenched around his cock as your orgasm crashed over. Your scream of ecstasy echoed through his penthouse, no doubt alerting his men and any curious onlookers outside to the carnal act taking place within.

The feeling of your velvet walls gripping him like a vice only spurred him closer to his own release. He leaned over you, hips grinding against your ass as he buried himself to the hilt inside your quivering cunt. With a guttural groan, Silco found his own peak, his cock pulsing and throbbing as thick ropes of cum painted your inner walls.

He rolled his hips, grinding against you, ensuring every last drop of his essence was seated deep within your fertile womb. Panting harshly, Silco collapsed against your back, pinning you beneath him. He nipped at your shoulder, voice a low rasp. "Such a good girl, milking my cock dry. I think you've earned a reward, my dear."

He reached down, fingers sliding through the mixture of their juices leaking from your fucked-out hole. Bringing his coated fingers to your lips, Silco rubbed them against your mouth. "Clean them off," he commanded. "Taste what a perfect little cumslut you are for me."

And you obeyed. And not because you had to, it was because you wanted to. You two were cut from the same rotten wood.

Silco's eyes darkened with sadistic satisfaction as you eagerly licked his fingers clean, savoring the tangy essence of their combined releases. He could feel your tongue swirling around each digit, lapping up every last drop.

"That's my good girl," he praised darkly, voice a low rumble. He kissed the back of your neck and sat down on the couch, taking out a small black box of imported Italian cigars from a table. He lit one and smoked it while looking at you intensely. Both of you naked and satisfied.

When the room finally falls silent again, filled only with the distant murmur of the city, you step away from the window, letting the night breeze brush your skin. Turning around, you notice something you hadn’t seen before: a collection of musical instruments carefully arranged in a corner of the room. A sleek black grand piano, an impeccably designed harp, and a violin that looks well-used yet lovingly cared for.

“Are you a musician?” you ask, picking up the violin with a mix of curiosity and admiration.

“I was,” he replies, his tone carrying a disinterest that doesn’t match the meticulousness of his collection. “A long time ago.”

Without another word, you position the violin on your shoulder, adjusting the bow with an almost automatic precision. Closing your eyes, you let the melody take shape in your mind before playing the first notes of Tartini’s The Devil’s Trill.

The music fills the room, each note cutting through the silence with an almost painful intensity. It’s both a challenge and a declaration, a metaphor that needs no explanation. You play with a ferocity that seems to pull something from your very soul, and though your eyes remain closed, you can feel Silco’s gaze on you, as heavy as a divine judgment.

When you finish, the bow still trembling slightly in your hands, you open your eyes to find him staring at you. His expression is unreadable, but there’s a spark of something you’ve never seen before: awe.

“I didn’t know you could play,” he says after a long pause, his words soft but carrying the weight only he can convey.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” you reply, carefully returning the violin to its place.

“That makes it all the more interesting,” he murmurs, leaning back into the couch as his eyes follow you with an intensity that seems to strip away every layer you try to keep intact.

Finally, he stands and approaches slowly. His shadow looms larger than it should in the dim room.

“Why that piece?” he asks, his tone calm but edged with something sharper.

“Don’t you know?” you reply, leaving the violin behind. “It’s a piece about ambition. About pacts and obsession.”

“Ah, yes. Giuseppe Tartini said he dreamed of the devil himself playing it. A composition born of the desire to possess the unattainable.” Silco tilts his head, his eyes gleaming with a perverse interest. “Ironic, isn’t it? Sometimes, the most ambitious dreams are the ones that destroy you.”

“I don’t think Tartini saw it that way,” you counter, crossing your arms. “He tried to recreate what he heard in that dream, but he never succeeded. He spent the rest of his life chasing a perfection that only existed in his mind.”

Silco smiles, that subtle, menacing curve of his lips that always leaves you on edge. “Exactly. Isn’t that the true nature of ambition? To chase what you can never have. It’s a curse... and a blessing.”

“And you? Have you chased something you can never have?” you ask, locking eyes with him, daring him to reveal even a sliver of vulnerability.

“I’m not interested in chasing impossibilities,” he replies, though something in his tone tells you he’s not being entirely truthful. “I prefer to negotiate. To make deals.”

“Like Tartini’s pact with the devil?” You let out a brief laugh, devoid of humor. “What happens when the price is too high?”

Silco steps closer, the distance between you reduced to a mere shadow. “There’s always a price, darling. The question is whether you’re willing to pay it.”

“And if I’m not?” you whisper, your words defiant but laced with a tension you can’t deny.

“Then someone else will pay it for you.” His voice is low, barely audible, but the implied threat wraps around the room like a shroud.

The silence that follows is heavy, laden with unspoken meaning. It feels as though the music you just played still echoes somewhere in the dark corners of the room, a reminder that this, this entire relationship, is a dangerous game.

“Do you know why I chose that piece?” you finally say, breaking the silence as you approach the violin again, your fingers trailing over its strings before pulling away. “Because it’s a metaphor.”

“For what, exactly?” he asks, though his tone suggests he already knows.

“For you,” you reply with an enigmatic smile, though your eyes are serious. “For us.”

“A pact with the devil?” His tone is mocking, but there’s something else beneath it, something you can’t quite place.

“A pact we both know we’ll lose,” you clarify. “But we keep playing the melody, over and over.”

Silco chuckles, that low, guttural sound that sends a shiver down your spine. “An interesting comparison. Though, I must say, I’m more curious to see how long the game lasts before one of us breaks the rules.”

“And when that happens,” you murmur, locking eyes with him, “who will pay the price?”

Silco doesn’t answer. Instead, he cups your chin, tilting your face toward him. “Perhaps both of us. Or perhaps neither.”

What happens next isn’t something you’d planned, but neither do you stop it. His mouth finds yours with an intensity that takes your breath away, a mix of possession and defiance that leaves you reeling.

Later, as you stand by the window with the city as a silent witness and the breeze caressing your skin, you realize this is everything he’d promised and more. It’s raw, it’s powerful, it’s inevitable.

And later still, as he sits on the couch with a glass of whiskey in hand, you pick up the violin again. Your fingers glide over the strings with a familiarity that feels ancient, as though this moment was always destined to happen.

As the first notes of The Devil’s Trill fill the air once more, Silco closes his eyes, but you can see the faintest hint of a smile. You don’t need words to understand what he’s thinking: that you are as dangerous as the melody you’re playing. And he wouldn’t want it any other way.

The sound of the violin still seems to linger in the air of the room when you wake the next morning. The first rays of light filter through the vast windows of the penthouse, reflecting off the polished, minimalist surfaces around you. The city below pulses with frenetic energy, but here, at the summit of this luxurious haven, all is still. Silco is not in the bed, but that doesn’t surprise you.

You rise, wrapped in the soft fabric of a shirt that isn’t yours, and find a note on the bedside table. His handwriting is precise, almost artistic, and the words are brief, as always.

“Breakfast on the terrace. We have matters to discuss.”

Your heart beats a little faster, though you’re not sure if it’s from anticipation or the growing sense that you’re playing a game whose ending you can’t predict.

When you reach the terrace, you find him seated in one of the sleek chairs, a cup of black coffee in one hand and a newspaper in the other. He is impeccably dressed, as if there isn’t a single moment in the day when he doesn’t have complete control over his appearance. The view of the city from here is dizzying, a constant reminder of the power he wields over the world he inhabits.

“Did you sleep well?” he asks without lifting his eyes from the newspaper.

“As well as someone who struck a deal with the devil last night,” you reply with a wry smile, taking a seat across from him.

Silco sets the newspaper aside, his eyes meeting yours with that intensity that always seems to disarm you.

“I hope you don’t regret it. Though, if you did, it would only make things more interesting.”

“I’m not one for regrets,” you say, lifting your chin. “What about you?”

“Only when the results fail to meet my expectations,” he answers, and you know it’s a warning disguised as a compliment.

Breakfast is a display of luxury: freshly baked croissants, exotic fruits you can barely identify, and a selection of cheeses and cured meats that seem straight out of a culinary catalog. He drinks coffee; you opt for a fresh juice that tastes as expensive as it looks.

“What’s the matter you wanted to discuss?” you ask, breaking the silence after a while.

Silco leans back in his chair, turning the coffee cup in his fingers.

“I’ve been considering the next phase of our… collaboration.”

“Collaboration? How professional that sounds,” you reply, arching an eyebrow.

“Everything in my life is professional,” he says with a half-smile. “Even the personal.”

“And what does this next phase entail?” you ask, trying not to show too much interest, though curiosity eats at you.

“There’s a gala next week, hosted by some strategic partners,” he explains. “I want you to come with me.”

“As your date?” you ask, knowing perfectly well what his answer will be but enjoying the game.

“More than that,” he responds, leaning toward you. “I want you to be my calling card.”

“And what’s in it for me?” you ask, resting your chin on your hand and looking at him with playful defiance.

“More than what you already have,” he says with a dangerous smile. “Your student loans, for example, could vanish with a single stroke of my pen.”

“That does sound tempting,” you admit, leaning closer to him. “But you know I never give anything without expecting something in return.”

“Of course,” he says, his tone cold as steel. “I wouldn’t be interested otherwise.”

The exchange feels like a chess match—every word carefully calculated, every gesture loaded with meaning. But beneath it all, you can sense something more: a tension, an attraction neither of you seems willing to ignore.

After breakfast, he invites you to explore more of his penthouse. Instead of heading straight to the bedroom, he leads you to a room you’d overlooked before. The door is thick and unassuming, but what lies beyond feels like a private museum.

“This is my personal collection,” he says, opening the door with a theatrical gesture.

You’re met with glass cases holding all manner of exotic objects: ceremonial daggers, tribal masks, ancient jewelry, and archaeological artifacts that look centuries old.

“Every one of these objects has a story,” he says, walking slowly among the cases. “And every story has a price.”

You stop in front of a mask carved from dark wood, adorned with gold and precious stones.

“Where’s this one from?” you ask.

“West Africa,” he answers. “It belonged to a shaman who, according to legend, could speak to the dead. He was executed by his own people when the voices began demanding sacrifices that were too great.”

“Macabre,” you say, but you can’t tear your gaze away from the mask.

“Power always is,” he says with a smile.

He shows you a ceremonial dagger, one of his most prized pieces.

“This dagger was used in a ritual that ended with the fall of an empire,” he says, turning it so you can see how the metal catches the light.

“How do you get these things?” you ask, admiring the detail of the hilt.

“Money,” he answers simply. “And the willingness to cross lines others wouldn’t dare.”

The next stop is his library, an impressive space filled with shelves that reach the ceiling, packed with books whose spines are worn and titles written in languages you don’t recognize.

“Some of these books are centuries old,” he says, running his fingers over the spines as if they were old friends. “Philosophy, history, the occult… everything you need to understand the world and manipulate it.”

“Manipulate it?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Knowledge is power,” he says, looking at you with that intensity that always seems to disarm you. “And power is the only currency that truly matters.”

Finally, he takes you to the bedroom. But instead of diving straight into intimacy, the evening takes an unexpected turn when he leads you to the massive bathtub occupying the most privileged corner of the penthouse.

The water is filled with bubbles, the temperature perfect. Both of you are naked, enjoying the feel of the hot water against your skin as the city lights twinkle through the floor-to-ceiling windows. On a floating tray rests a bowl of perfect grapes and a bottle of the most expensive champagne you’ve ever tasted.

“Do you always live like this?” you ask, taking a grape and bringing it to your lips.

“Not always,” he replies, holding his champagne glass with an air of nonchalance. “But I make an effort to enjoy the pleasures the world has to offer.”

“Makes sense,” you say, leaning back to gaze at the night sky through the glass. “Though I wonder if you actually enjoy anything, or if all this is just a distraction.”

He smiles, a smile full of secrets.

“You’re perceptive. Perhaps too much.”

The conversation moves between banter, innuendos, and dangerous truths as the glasses empty and the grapes disappear. The atmosphere is charged but also unusually calm, as if you’re both in a momentary truce in your endless game of power.

For a brief moment, the world seems to stand still, and though you both know this is just another stage in a larger game, neither of you is willing to break the spell.

Night falls over the city like a dark veil, illuminated only by the flickering lights of the skyscrapers and the distant, pale moon. Silco’s penthouse is a refuge of luxury, distinction, and coldness, but tonight, something else flickers in his eyes. The invitation to the opera is his way of showcasing what he possesses, of showing the world what belongs to him. And you, though you don’t entirely understand it yet, know that being part of this spectacle is more than just a simple evening out.

You stand before the full-length mirror in the room, dressing carefully, aware of what awaits you. The dress is black, hugging your figure, with lace details that caress your skin with a touch of restrained sensuality. The fabric flows to the floor, offering only the slightest glimpse of your heels. The delicate neckline strikes the perfect balance between provocative and elegant, while the long, sheer sleeves add a hint of mystery, as if something lies hidden beneath. Your hair cascades in loose waves over your shoulders, dark and gleaming under the dim light.

Your makeup highlights your features: eyes deeply lined, lips a crimson shade that contrasts with your pale skin. You look like a masterpiece, a muse that Silco has no fear of displaying as his own. And though part of that unsettles you, you also feel powerful, irresistible. The image you project is not just that of an attractive woman but of someone who knows exactly what she’s doing, someone who plays with shadows as much as with light.

When you step into the living room, Silco is waiting for you, standing by a window that offers an impressive view of the city. His gaze lands on you immediately, like a predator spotting its prey. He says nothing, just watches you, as if conducting a meticulous examination, a silent evaluation. For a moment, the air seems to still. It’s a mix of admiration and something darker, indefinable, but undeniably present.

"Stunning," he murmurs, barely audible, before offering his arm for you to take.

The limo that picks you up is luxurious, its interior upholstered in black leather with gold accents that shimmer under the soft lighting. Silco remains silent, but there’s something different about his demeanor. His body is tense, as if anticipating something—or someone—to breach his domain. The ride to the opera feels long, though words are unnecessary. The tension between you rises, like the air is charged with electricity.

When you arrive, the building is an architectural jewel, imposing, made of marble and glass. The lobby is grand, with towering columns reaching for the ceiling, adorned with frescoes and floating chandeliers. The opera, the season’s most anticipated event, is in full swing, and you’re the center of attention—but not in the way you expected. As you make your way to the private box, the eyes of the men can’t help but follow you. Discreetly, but you notice—the glimmer of interest in their gazes, the latent desire to approach you, to speak to you.

Silco notices too.

"Interesting, isn’t it?" he says in a low voice, barely audible amid the orchestra’s first notes. "How some men feel so comfortable admiring what doesn’t belong to them."

He turns you to face him, his face impassive but his expression betraying restrained jealousy. The way his eyes trace over you, how his hand rests lightly on your back like an invisible brand, reminds you of the true meaning of this invitation. It’s a reminder: you’re here with him. But also a warning of what might happen should anyone cross the boundaries he has silently set.

"Isn’t it beautiful?" you ask, your voice tinged with genuine fascination as you gaze at the stage. The soprano, bathed in golden light, sings an aria with such intensity that the air seems to vibrate. But your words aren’t just for him; they’re for yourself, for the magnificence of this place that makes you feel both small and immense at once.

"It’s a spectacle," Silco replies coldly, "but nothing compared to the beauty you’ve brought to this room."

You turn to him, offering a slight smile, playing with the idea of provoking a reaction. But Silco isn’t someone easily manipulated. And as the performance continues, you realize what bothers him most isn’t the opera or the perfection of the event. It’s the fact that others dare to look at you, even indirectly, in ways only he believes he has the right to.

Suddenly, as if the opera’s atmosphere weren’t stifling enough, you decide to break the ice and venture into less superficial territory, something more intellectual.

"It’s curious how opera can be so... disturbing," you begin, casting a critical look toward the soprano who seems to sing not just with her voice but with every fiber of her being, projecting an emotion so intense it hurts. "The passion conveyed in every note—it’s not just technique. It’s raw. Visceral."

Silco studies you for a moment, intrigued by your ability to see beyond the surface. "Visceral?" he repeats, a faint smile playing on his lips. "What we’re witnessing is the distortion of human emotion taken to its limit. Artists like her don’t sing for us. They do it for themselves. To confront their own suffering and turn it into something consumable."

"Perhaps," you reply, analyzing the glint in his eyes, "but I can’t help thinking all that suffering has a darker purpose. Sometimes, the rawest emotions are the most genuine. But do we really seek to understand them, or just consume them?"

Your serene yet thoughtful tone immediately captures his attention. Silco leans back slightly in his seat, his eyes fixed on you as the orchestra carries on, though his mind seems ensnared by your words.

"It’s a reflection of human fragility," he finally says, as if speaking more to himself than to you. "Pain, despair. People pay to witness that vulnerability because we’ve distanced ourselves so much from the genuine that we find solace only in reminders of our worst selves."

Your gaze softens, acknowledging the depth of his words without letting them disarm you. You know what Silco is insinuating: his fascination with human darkness, with imperfection.

"And don’t you think all of that is present in us? In what we do, in what we seek..." you say with a faint, ironic smile. "Or do you believe we can escape our own need for destruction?"

Silco stiffens slightly, the atmosphere between you growing even more charged, almost oppressive. "There is no escape," he responds, his tone grave and piercing. "Only acceptance."

"And I accept what I am," you say, holding his gaze, a challenge in your eyes.

A tense pause stretches between you as the soprano’s voice continues to hang in the air. Silco watches you intensely, a mix of respect and dangerous possession in his gaze. "Perhaps you’re right," he murmurs, his voice low, almost a whisper, as he fixes you with a look that burns more than it illuminates. "Perhaps you accept more than you’re willing to admit."

The opera comes to an end, and while the crowd bursts into fervent applause, for the two of you, everything else fades away. In this space between shadows, the words you’ve shared become a tension even more palpable, a line that cannot be crossed without consequences. The opera’s beauty, with its raw passion, becomes a reflection of what binds you together—and, at the same time, what sets you apart.

Outside, under the starlit sky, the air is fresh and clean. Silco escorts you back to the car, and during the ride home, the silence is heavy, filled with unspoken thoughts.

When you reach the penthouse, the tension that’s been building all night finally erupts. The door closes behind you, and immediately, without words, he turns you toward him, taking your face in his hands, his grip firm. But the look in his eyes is something entirely different. It’s possessive, urgent, as if he’s claiming something he always knew was his, though you’ve never fully given it to him.

"I don’t like when they look at you," he whispers, his lips close to your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "I don’t like when you seek their attention."

It’s a dangerous game, and in that moment, you know you’re trapped. There’s no escape, no alternative. The passion between you morphs into something darker, more controlled, and at the same time, more intense. As if everything he does, everything he gives, is part of a way to mark you, to ensure there’s no doubt in your mind about what you truly are to him.

Before you can react, his lips claim yours in a deep, possessive kiss, and the world outside that room fades away. All that matters now is what’s in front of you. Silco. And the power he holds over you.

The sea stretches out before you like an endless canvas, as vast and deep as the emotions Silco stirs within you. The ocean breeze caresses your skin, carrying away the heavy thoughts you’ve been burdened with over the past week. In this space, everything seems clearer. Yet, despite the stunning scenery, an undercurrent of tension lingers in the air, impossible to ignore.

Your birthday has arrived, and Silco has planned something special, something you never expected. This time, there’s no shadowy gala or opulent halls. Instead, you find yourself in a secluded paradise—a hidden corner of the sea where the elite rarely tread. You’re aboard a private yacht gliding over turquoise waters, far from the city you’ve always known, but close to what is inevitable: Silco.

You’ve dressed more simply than usual, in a flowing white dress that drapes softly over your figure, and a straw hat that partially shields your face, giving you an air of mystery, almost ethereal. The sun beats down mercilessly over the ocean, but the warmth of the daylight is tempered by the cool breeze sweeping over the water. Yet, despite the relaxing atmosphere, the silence between you and Silco carries a weight that’s impossible to ignore.

The yacht is a spectacle of luxury: polished wooden decks, a lounge with glass windows offering panoramic views of the ocean, and a bar that looks like something out of a high-society film. It’s elegant, comfortable, and perfectly isolated—a microcosm where the outside world ceases to exist. And yet, you know you’re not here just to enjoy paradise. Silco watches you, seated in a chair by the railing, his gaze steady, analytical, calculating. Somehow, you know this trip isn’t solely a gift for you.

“This place is perfect, isn’t it?” he says in a calm voice, almost a whisper, as he takes a sip from the wine glass in his hand. “A place where you can think without distractions.”

You look at him, unsure if he’s actually asking you or simply sharing his thoughts. The sunlight casts a special glow over his face, highlighting his sharp features and the piercing gaze that tracks your every movement. The yacht glides further into the water, each passing mile pulling you further away from everything you know.

“It’s beautiful,” you finally reply, but the air remains thick with unspoken tension. “Why here? Why today?”

Silco observes you with a small smile, something he rarely shows. It’s not a smile of contentment but of control, of possession. As if this place, this moment, everything, was orchestrated for you but also for him. And that unsettles you in a strange way.

“It’s your birthday,” he replies, his tone soft but firm. “And while I don’t care for pompous celebrations, I wanted you to have something special. A place where neither of us has to worry about anything but being here.”

You search his eyes for some clue, something to tell you that this is genuine. But you find nothing. Silco has no intention of making things easy for you, and you know it well. Despite the idyllic setting, there’s a palpable distance between the two of you, like an invisible field neither dares to cross.

Shortly after, lunch arrives. A feast prepared for two: fresh lobster, tuna sushi, and an endless selection of wines. The scent of the sea mingles with the aroma of the food, and the sun casts everything in a perfect golden light. But as Silco serves you, his eyes betray something more—something you’ve come to know well: a subtle control over your every action, as though each gesture is part of a scene he meticulously arranged for you.

“Do you like it?” he asks, watching your face as you take a bite. His tone is almost condescending, as though he’s assessing your reaction.

“It’s delicious,” you reply, but the taste is overshadowed by the pressure you feel being here with him. The sun shines too brightly, but his eyes are even more intense, always watchful, always calculating.

“All of this is for you, but it’s also for me,” he says, almost muttering to himself. “It’s easy to give gifts; the hard part is knowing how to thank someone for what they give you. But you’ll see—everything comes with a price.”

Your stomach churns at his words. Despite the dazzling view, the weight of what he’s just said hits harder than the heat of the sun. Silco has gifted you a perfect day, but the price of that perfection is something you can’t help but wonder about. What does he truly want from you? What else is he expecting?

After the meal, Silco approaches you, his gaze never less than piercing, scrutinizing every inch of you. There’s something in the way he looks at you that makes everything once serene feel more complicated, denser. He hands you a small package, his smile teetering on the edge of irony.

“A gift, though you may not be sure you want it,” he says with a low chuckle. “I’ve observed you, and I know what you like. You know I enjoy giving you what belongs to you.”

You open the package carefully, finding inside a diamond necklace—an intricate design that almost seems alive, as though each stone was placed with specific intent. You hold it in your hands, admiring its perfection but also feeling a growing pressure in your chest. The price of this gift isn’t just monetary—it’s emotional.

“It’s beautiful,” you murmur, feeling the weight of every word you say and the discomfort rising within you. The necklace is the final touch to a stage where you already feel trapped.

“Yes, it is,” Silco responds, his tone almost intimate, as though he knows what it truly means to you. “But don’t forget—everything I do has a purpose. Nothing comes without a price.”

Those words land like a blow. You know this isn’t just a necklace he’s given you but a reminder of his power over you, of what he expects from you. He isn’t merely offering you something beautiful—he’s offering an unspoken contract where you are the one who must pay.

The afternoon drifts by as the yacht continues to float aimlessly in the turquoise waters. The sun begins to set on the horizon, painting everything in shades of orange and gold. Silco never stops watching you, as though measuring you, waiting for something within you to react, for something to break. But you remain there in silence, wondering just how far you’ve fallen into his web, just how deeply you’ve allowed his influence to seep under your skin.

As night falls and the sky darkens, Silco moves closer to you, his presence firm and assured. His arm wraps around your waist with a possessiveness you cannot ignore.

“This is a birthday you’ll never forget,” he murmurs near your ear, the implicit promise in his words more terrifying than any celebration. “No matter how many gifts I give you, don’t forget—you’ll always be mine.”

The sound of the water lapping against the yacht, the whisper of the wind—all of it fades as his words echo in your mind. You cannot escape his control, not while you continue accepting his gifts. And deep down, you know you’re already too far gone.

Four months. Four long months since you entered Silco's world. Everything you knew before seems to have vanished. You live with him, in his house, in his space, isolated from your friends, from your family. Everything has changed, and although a part of you knows things weren’t healthy from the beginning, you’ve grown accustomed to this new reality. You’ve become his shadow, his silent company, an ornament accompanying him in his business and his life, without truly being part of anything.

University is the only thing you have left outside his sphere. You only leave to attend classes, as just another obligation. The campus feels like a distant world, and interactions with your classmates are limited to class meetings, while the other students dive into their own lives. You’re just there, doing what’s expected of you, like an automaton. After classes, you quickly return to the penthouse, as if it were a refuge, though deep down you know it’s more of a prison than a home.

Your friends no longer call, your family barely hears from you. And you… you’ve forgotten how to be yourself. Conversations that once felt light now seem distant, as if they were memories from another life. You’re trapped in a cycle with Silco that you don’t know how to break. Everything you do, everything you are now, revolves around him. The arguments, the fights, the manipulations—it all feels like a whirlwind, a maze with no exit.

Tonight feels different. Something in the air is heavy, a tension you can’t ignore. Silco arrives late, his face hardened by business, by stress. You watch him from the couch, the dim light of the lamp illuminating his figure. You know something is about to erupt. The question is, will you be able to endure it?

He approaches, watching you for a moment, his gaze piercing as always. "Where have you been?" he asks, his tone low, almost uncomfortable, but there’s something more there. It’s not a simple question—it’s an accusation disguised as curiosity.

You rise slowly, feeling the weight of his gaze. "I’ve been here, waiting, as always. Doing what you asked of me," you reply, your voice already laced with the frustration you’ve been repressing.

He studies you, his expression unreadable. "Waiting… for what exactly?" The question is provocative, but also charged with a power you can’t ignore. You feel as if you’re standing on a battlefield, unsure if the war is already lost or if there’s still something left to defend.

"I don’t know what you expect from me," you say through clenched teeth, your hands balled into fists at your sides. "Everything I do, everything I am, revolves around you. I don’t know if you like that or if it disgusts you, but I’m tired of you treating me like I’m just an extension of yourself."

The response comes faster than you expect, his voice turning colder. "I’m not treating you as an extension of myself," he says, every word sharp as a blade. "I’m showing you reality. I’m the only thing keeping you here, the only thing giving you purpose."

The words hit you like a whip. They hurt more than you’d like to admit because, deep down, you know there’s some truth to them. "And what am I to you, then?" you ask, your voice breaking slightly despite yourself. "Just another tool? A piece of flesh to satisfy your needs?"

Silco smiles bitterly, a gesture he rarely shows. "Isn’t that what you are, dear? In this world, we’re all tools. The difference is that some of us hold more power than others. And you, without me, are nothing. I’ve given you everything you have; everything you are now is thanks to me."

The air grows heavier, and your hands begin to tremble, but you try to keep calm. The venom in his words wounds you, but not enough to make you crumble. "I don’t need you to remind me. But what you don’t understand, Silco, is that this isn’t what I want. This isn’t who I want to be."

He takes a step closer, his figure darkening the room. "Then what do you want? To run away from all of this? To live a life of lies, like the others? With your friends, with your illusions? That won’t give you what you really need. You know that. Everything I offer you is the truth, without embellishments."

"The truth?" you repeat, struggling to contain the rage boiling inside you. "The truth is you’re suffocating me. You’re manipulating me, dragging me further and further into your world. What you’re giving me isn’t truth—it’s your version of what the truth should be, your control. And I’m tired of being part of it."

The words hang in the air, and for a moment, you wonder if it’s really possible to escape all of this. Silco pauses, his gaze no longer as intense, but his words still cut deep. "You know you can’t escape this, don’t you?" he says softly, as if he knows something you haven’t yet accepted. "You can’t live without me. You have nowhere to go."

The anger begins to bubble over, and it’s as if all the repressed energy explodes at once. "Of course I can! I can leave! I can… I can go and never come back." Your voice trembles, but the decision is clear.

Silco’s laugh echoes through the room, bitter and cold. "And what would you do out there? Where would you go? The world around you has no place for someone like you. Without me, you’re nothing. And you know it."

A heavy silence fills the air as you both stare at each other, weighing every word, every gesture. "I am nothing without you," you say finally, your voice barely a whisper. "But that doesn’t mean I can’t find myself. That doesn’t mean I have to keep being part of your game."

Silco remains silent, watching you as if he’s evaluating something in your words. His expression is hard to read, but for the first time, there’s something in his eyes you can’t identify—something that looks like doubt.

"If you leave, there’s no coming back," he says in a low voice, an implicit threat in his words. "There will be no place for you in my world, and you know it."

And in that moment, something inside you clicks. The decision is made. It no longer matters what he says. "I know," you respond firmly, your heart pounding. "I know. But I’m leaving."

You turn and begin walking towards the door. Silco does nothing, doesn’t move, doesn’t stop you. But his gaze follows you, weighing on you, one last attempt at control.

As you step through the door, the sound of your heels echoing in the hallway is your only companion. The cool night air greets you, and for the first time in a long time, you feel free. At least for a moment, you can breathe.

Thirty long days have passed since you left his side. A month. Thirty days of loneliness, abandonment, and anguish. Broken promises crash against your chest like an echo, and the constant pressure of an uncertain future devours you from within. You try to survive, but each day becomes harder.

Your university life, once your salvation, is now just a chain tying you to a routine that slowly consumes you. You can’t pay your rent. The overdue payments loom like a black shadow, threatening to swallow you whole. The people who once stood by your side now turn their backs on you. Friends, so conventional, so distant, can’t understand what you’ve lost. Your family doesn’t even try. They’ve rejected you, abandoned you. And amidst all this, your studies remain a distant beacon, an unattainable dream you can barely cling to.

You tried finding a job, but you lost everything as quickly as it came. The university demands more of you, and all you have to offer is the anguish of knowing your world is collapsing while they move forward, oblivious to the darkness consuming you. The days stretch endlessly, and the nights become unbearable. Sadness courses through your veins like a dark current, but nothing, nothing hurts more than his absence. The void Silco left is an open wound that cannot heal. The luxurious life you shared with him, the brilliance of his world—you miss it. The darkness within him, that sense of belonging found only in the depths of wickedness, you miss that too. That is the price you pay for leaving.

One day, without thinking, without knowing what drives you, you decide to return. You don’t care if he rejects or humiliates you. The only thing you know is that you can’t go on without him. The city looks dull and cold from the heights, but Silco’s building draws you with a dark, almost magnetic force. Your steps are slow, heavy, each one closer to the truth you’ve been denying. When you reach the door of the penthouse, doubt strikes you, but you don’t stop. You know. You can’t escape him.

Silco is there, waiting for you, as if he knew you would return. As if he knew the absence was only temporary, that nothing could keep you apart for long. His presence fills the air, heavy and dense, as always. And yet, there is something more in his gaze—something dark and satisfied. Silco is not the kind of man who is surprised by others’ decisions because, in his world, he is always in control.

“You had nowhere else to go, did you?” he says in that deep voice that takes your breath away, his tone so full of certainty you can’t respond. “You’ve realized it, as you always do. No one understands you. No one knows what you need, what belongs to you. Only I do.”

His words pierce through you like a knife. You know he’s right—there is nowhere else you can find what he gave you. The void left by his absence is something you cannot fill. No one else understands you. No one else has seen the darkness you both plunge into and embraced it. Silco is everything you are, everything you know.

You move closer to him, wordless, eyes downcast, a silent plea. Silco smiles, his gaze softening for just a moment before growing more intense. He steps toward you, as if advancing over familiar terrain—a battlefield he already knows. He watches you intently, as if he can read every thought in your mind.

“I knew you’d come back,” he murmurs, touching your face with a dangerous softness, a touch devoid of affection but full of possession. “You know, don’t you? You can’t live without me. You never will. You’re too broken to be free, always have been. You can’t stand being away—you know it.”

You nod slowly, unable to speak, unwilling to say anything more. The only truth is that you need to return to him. You cannot escape.

“You’re mine,” he continues as his fingers slide down your neck with palpable possession. “And you know it. No one else does, not even you. But I’ll remind you always, until you die. Because everything you are, everything you have, is mine.”

Before you can process his words, he steps back, and with a disturbingly calm demeanor, he pulls a small case from his pocket. He opens it slowly, revealing a black diamond ring. The jewel gleams with a macabre luster, as if it has a life of its own. He looks at it, then offers it to you. “I gave you everything. Now, I want what’s mine completely.”

The ring, with its dark color and incalculable value, hypnotizes you. You don’t need to think—you can’t think. In that moment, you surrender. You know what it is and what it means, but the idea of being entirely his draws you in with unstoppable force. You accept without hesitation. It feels as natural as breathing.

“Yes,” you whisper, the word flowing from your lips like a sentence, and you feel the world begin to revolve around him again.

He smiles—a cold, satisfied expression—and takes your hand, sliding the ring onto your finger with unsettling precision. “I knew you would. I knew you couldn’t escape. No place is safe enough for you. You’re mine, and you’ll never leave me.”

He moves closer to you, his face mere inches from yours. “Because only we understand what we truly are. No one else has seen the darkness like we have. No one else appreciates it. We deserve this. All we have left is this bond, this darkness. Why fear it when we can embrace it together?”

Your lips brush against his, and the dark passion overtakes you like a flame consuming everything in its path. The kiss is deep, almost destructive. There is no sweetness in it, only savage voracity. In his arms, you finally feel like you belong to something, to someone. You are his. And for the first time, everything feels right.

In that moment, the world shrinks to just the two of you. Nothing else matters—neither the university, nor family, nor friends. Only him and you, immersed in a darkness only you two understand. The ring, the seal of possession, is the final bond tying you together—a reminder of the inevitable.

Silco looks at you, his eyes dark yet filled with a satisfaction you’ve never seen before. “Welcome home,” he says in his deep voice. And for some reason, in this moment, all you can do is nod, surrendering entirely to the shadow that surrounds you, to the darkness that calls you.

[bi-bored]

Mariana from SH&Co

FINALLY FINISHED (and justification in time to hear sherlock say her name AAAAAAAAHHH)

look at this gorgeous woman!

(Also ignore how different the styles are between this one and Sherlock's; I'm gonna redraw his soon b/c this was using a drawing tablet and the other was just using my finger 😑)

*SH&CO Sign of 4 spoiler!

OMG this scene has my heartttt, it took him so long but he did ittt! And I love how every time he mentions one of them by name, they actually take the time to notice that and it's not just smth the listeners notice. Really random but idk it's the sort of tiny thing you'd expect they wouldn't actually comment on.

(And I'm also currently starting a funny little drawing of another scene in this episode ;) cant wait to finish that and show ya'll, tho it might take a week or two)

[sparklesandpudding]

I would like to request another yandere please

Like what you did for Apollo but for Nikola Tesla please

.

.

.

PLEASSSSSSS I BEG OF YOU I NEED ITTT PKEASEEEEE 😭😭😭😭😭

The man has barely any media and I'm pretty sure he will never even get a sub plot but okeaseeeeeee I beggggg I beg on my knees for content of him pleaseeeeeee I begggggg of youuuuuu

Ofc! Nikola Tesla 🔛🔝

Yandere Nikola Tesla × Reader

Tesla's love calculations | by sparkles and pudding (loading...)

Love isn't a good enough word for how I feel. | Tesla's love calculations

- I'd say you were a janitor, who'd always clean up after him and all of the workers mess. You could say you even cleaned up exhausted workers who were incredibly tired after using up their brain power.

- but, not only that, you had a sweet crush on the main man. One who did not care about resting. Always using his brain whenever it came to new ideas that he believed he could create.

- he never noticed you, he was too busy with his work. And had already shown that he didn't really have given for that type of stuff. It's sad, but you had to get over it. You can't force someone to love some nobody like you.

- What you weren't aware of, was the fact that he also felt the same way. He just didn't understand his feelings yet. But that was all until he saw you interact in a little conversation with one of the men there. It just struck his heart with negativity for some reason, and he didn't understand.

- he had to think long and hard before finally realizing it after one of the dudes beside him noticed his jealous gaze, suddenly calling him out and asking if he wanted to be the one talking to you instead. Of course..how could he not have realized it before? He was in love! Or was it even love..?

- his fellow workers caught on after word spread around, obviously not to you, but almost everyone working with the mad scientist. And do not deny it, I KNOW they gossip. They oughta be snickering when they see Tesla eyeing someone out of jealousy that they were talking to you. Oh man, that was some real drama right there.

- if you look closely, he has a few books that he's been reading. About love, and all. Such a sweetheart he was...or not. (I'm sorry for edging y'all so much.)

- he came across one book that talked about the difference of love and obssession, and it really caught his eye. Making him buy it immediately and then reading about it.

- It was a poorly made book. The pages were torn and made of low quality materials. But that didn't stop him. The book perfectly described his feelings towards you, and it came to be such a surprise to him when he saw that ot was a sign of really unhealthy love. He had to read it over and over again, wanting to believe that maybe it was just a misunderstanding. But it wasn't. Whoever wrote it knew very well what they were doing.

- the next day, he avoided talking to you as much as he could. The man only wanted to make inventions, he didn't care about things like love. But oh boy was it so difficult to keep his eyes off you. The prettiest thing he saw and felt, it was undescribable. When you got the idea that he hated you, it ended with you talking to him less. And he did not like that.

- he caught you talking to another guy, a janitor who you've been talking to for the past few weeks now. And I am not kidding when I say that all the workers there saw the bitter look on Tesla's face. You thought it would end there, right? Wrong. A day passes, and you find out that the same guy you talked to, had ended up passing due to getting too close to one of the inventions. In Tesla's defence, he had told the guy not to touch any buttons, but the guy ended up doing so anyway, which is unbelievable. But you had no choice but to listen anyway.

- the real story was that the guy tried to clean the invention, which was made by the dear scientist, who made sure to program it as a bomb. Strong enough to kill anything once it's ready to explode. Tesla knew this, it was his plan all along to get rid of that pest, without putting suspicion on his name. And it worked! Good for him.

- finally, he confessed his love for you. Which you happily agreed to. Because you were just a little dummy who didn't know any better. That's why you were better off with him, cus he was smarter, and knew what was good for you.

- you won't even realize his growing possessiveness, not even when he gave such a bitter face to the people who are around you. Would you believe me if I said that he even thought of lying to you that a life threatening world ending virus was spreading and he had to lock you up forever to keep you safe? Let's be happy that he didn't go through with that. He's not THAT bad.

- he loves having you around whenever he's working on something, just so that when his eyes get tired from looking at the board, he can look back at you and immediately get an energy boost.

- he was such a sweetheart and he loved you so much. It was best of you just didn't know his secret side when it came to you. He barely let's you out. He'd drag you around to show you new things or ideas he came up with, and even asked you if you wanted anything made just for you.

- he won't ever let you out unless it was necessary. Like maybe a fire, or evacuating to somewhere safe.

- Expect him to ask for your opinion on basically anything. Just so that he can interrupt your thoughts from going anywhere near the idea of leaving.

- when you and him do it for the every first time, man was he addicted. It's like anytime he's stressed after work, he immediately gets on you so that you could relieve him. He's nice, don't worry. He's very romantic too.

- I can also believe that he'd make good pickup lines. Like geek typa shit that you wouldn't understand. But that's okay, it's Tesla. Your loving husband.

- Promise him that you'd stay with him forever. Don't ever make him think you'd leave. You know what happened to your friend right? He'll threaten to do stuff like that in the future if there really was no other way to convince you.

___

@gayerthanthegays here you go!! Luv some Nikola Tesla content 😍

[decapitatedrathead]

𐙚..Love Fool.. 𐙚

Zantetsu Tsurugi x gn!reader

♡!A/N!♡: I'm writing after a whole YEAR (since I kinda...like...deleted all of my fics) but hey, a start is best when it's fresh

Hence why I have to start with one of my favorite idiots; Zantetsu

♡!TW!♡: grammar errors? Idk I'm as dumb as him. otherwise none! Just fluff! I tried to keep it gn, plsss tell me if there's an error abt ittt

You never really understood how you got the patience and nerves to put up with him, since...he's been seriously getting on your nerves by how... STUPID he is and can get

But..who wouldn't be when he couldn't understand basic math?

"So, do I just multiple this? Or..."

What did he mean by or ! There's a fricking × sign there...

"....Tsurugi..it's literally just 5×7-0,47. That's all you have to do."

He looked at his paper dumbfounded, then back at his notebook...then back at his paper before finally looking up at you...yeah he definitely didn't understand what you just said......

"Uh..can you say that again in a more....dumbed down way?"

Sometimes you wonder why you agreed to tutor him...

"...Tsu...what's 5×7..?"

He blinks for a few second...then he frowns as he thinks, then hesitantly answers.

"Uh...35...?"

Wow....the moron got something right for once, maybe cause you were about to beat him up the last time you were tutoring him and teaching him basic multiplication.

"Did you REALLY have to think for that long to answer what's 3×7...?"

"Hey!- I'm not good at math ok?-"

He huffed before going, surprisingly, silent...it was quiet for a few seconds before he spoke up again.

"...So what's 35-0,47 then?"

"You're not good at using your brain....and it's 34,53."

It was amusing how he stared at you dumbfounded for a few moments, before he looked at his notebook to check it himself. Surprise, surprise, you were right. Yet he was still dumbfounded by how easily you calculated that..

"H-how...did you do that so fast-?"

"It's grade school math at best, Tsurugi...."

After an overly dramatic groan....he put down his pencil, slouching back in his seat.

"Hey, not everyone can be a brainiac like you, y'know.."

"I'm not a braniac...I also struggle with big equations......"

With a scoff, you simply crossed your arms and looked at him..almost in a judging way

Probably judging how stupid he is

Yet... you wouldn't know how much he liked and adored the way you crossed your arms to look serious...

"....but that's like a...whole new world for you."

He rolled his eyes and lightly slapped your arm in retaliation, pouting like a 4 year old...

"Ha-ha hilarious ...not my responsibility to be good with math, I'm good with football-"

"How will football help in math or English?"

"I...I-"

He was at a loss for words...he didn't have a good comeback for that one. So he let out another frustrated groan before crossing his arms and pouting once more

"...shut up!...not my fault I'm good with sports and not good with words..."

A snort escaped out of your nose...and they way you grinned at him in that smartassed way..

"You're dumb, that's that. And I won't be mellifluous about it."

"I....am not dumb!- I just-"

Surprisingly, he let out another groan, frustrated at himself and the situation.

"And stop using your big words...I have no idea what you're saying-"

"Aaaah right right, I do solemnly apologise for using such a profound vocabulary on my dearest companion."

He put his face in his hands, groaning in frustration again, then took a few seconds to try and process what you just said before looking back up at you with his brows furrowed.

"Now you're just doing it on purpose..."

"Of course I'm doing it on purpose... you're stupid."

His eye..twitched in annoyance. So he leaned forward, resting his arms on the table as he stared at you with a frustrated but firm expression.

"Hey! I am not stupid, I'm just...not as smart when it comes to words and math and stuff...I'm good at football- at least..."

Then he leaned on to the table, his chin propped on his palm..

"..at least that's what I like to think."

That's when you chuckled... stood up, and took your school bag off the library table

"How about we pack up and finish tomorrow..? I don't want your little brain to fry.."

And with a genuine smile....you leaned down and kissed his cheek....

"See ya, Tsurugi...."

He didn't even have time to register that you left after that stunt you pulled

You left him...flabbergasted...brain short-circuiting when he whipped his head in your direction

Just to see you leave the school library...

Sure, he wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but he could admit he was whipped for you

Oh my goodness gracious! Idk why, but it kinda feels nice to be backkk

~Posted on July 3rd, 2024~

[chowdersinterlude]

Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss

you sigh and start to get dress,

Putting on a ‘extra nice’ outfit just in case your man actually DOES come to your job,

But you do have doubts because Ochako IS known for teasing you.. BUT

What if it was true that THE Sero Hanta goes to the coffeehouse YOU work at? your celebrity crush, well.. she kinda said he looks at you

But you never notice because of your headphones blasting HIS music.

Your so deep in thought you don’t even realize your in front of the coffeehouse until you see the neon yellow sign ‘IGN COFFEE’,

“Welp Here we go..”

A sigh leaves your lips as you try to calm your tensed nerves, when you walk in through the doors you hear a faint ‘ding!’ Of the bells on top of the frame

“Y/N!! You took foreverrr” Izuku exaggerates and pulls you into a long needy hug

“Iida was nagging me about you not being on time” he rolls his eyes in annoyance and goes behind the shiny marble counter

“Well what can I say? I’m Tenya’s fav” you let out a confident chuckle and shrug your shoulders

“Yeah sure, the drama queen who’s always late is the boss's favorite?” He glances at you with a sly grin.

You walk behind the counter and pinch his cheek

“I influence you too much don’t I?” You smile and walk toward the wall to tie the olive green apron around your waist

“Did you hear about what Ochako said?” You lean on the counter looking at Izuku

“What? About Sero?”

“Mhm” you glance at his scar-filled hands then back at his emerald green eyes

“Oh yeah! I’ve seen him a couple of times, he’s always staring at you” he wipes the screen of the tablet in front of him

“WHAAAA??? AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME??” You shout angrily whacking him in the back of head

“You would’ve got mad at me if I bothered you while listening to your music” he shrugs,

His words aren’t false butttt THE Sero Hanta looking at you??

That’s a big deal

You squint at him and grit your teeth

“Wait y/n look” izuku nudges you nodding his head toward the door

“Whattt???” You look at the door and your heart DROPS

Sero Hanta, the lead singer of cellophane, in the flesh.

“Happy now? Finally get to see your boyfriend” izuku teases you and waves at the spiky black haired man

“Hey back again?” Izuku grins and turns on the tablet

“Oh so your friend finally doesn’t have her headphones on huh?” Sero’s voice is like a kiss on the lips

Tender and passionate, He’s not even singing and he sounds hot.

“I heard your show is gonna be near here in two days” Izuku is the best wingman ever, he knows what he’s doing, he’s trying to make him ask you to go

“Yeah, Anyways.. can I get my usual?” His raspy voice mutters out

“Mhm… a pastry today? Or is Mina not feeling like it?” Izuku’s puffs out a sigh while his nails continues to tap at the screen

“Ehh? I’ll just get it to make sure”

“Alright $11.35” Izuku sets his gaze on the laid back man

Sero reaches in his pocket, earning an occasional rustle of his keys, and pulls out this leather wallet, as he pulls money out and closes it, you catch a glimpse of the tiny polaroid in a see-through patch

It’s a recent picture,

But with Izuku..

Is Izuku friends with them?

While Izuku goes in the back to prepare his order, you follow him and slide next to Izuku.

“Hey Izu.. are you friends with the members of cellophane?”

Your question makes his shoulders go up

You caught him

“SO YOU ARE?! AND YOU DIDN'T TELL USSS??” You slump on his shoulder

“I just didn’t want you guys to use me for ittt” he strokes your hair with his free hand and walks towards the counter

“But Izuuu” you follow him while he walks to Sero

“Are you guys dating?” Sero tilts his head as he takes the order

“Nope, never” Izuku points at you

“Maybe you should ask her on a date, yknow?” Izuku shoots a cocky smirk at Sero when he watches his face flush red

“Oh c'mon Sero, your always staring at her, why not give her your number?”

Your face is burning watching Sero write down his number on an extra receipt

“Uhm.. text me alright?” Sero shoots a smile at you and walks out

Your eyes are glued to the door as he left

“So? I guess miss y/n has a date?” Izuku snaps his fingers in front of you

“Earth to y/n?”

“You just got THE Sero Hanta’s number, you good?” Izuku waves his hand in front of your eyes

“Yeah yeah I’m gonna.. uhm go home” You untie the apron and storm out the coffeehouse,

Ochako HAS to know about this,,

+ ( Y/N was gonna text Ochako after she texted sero but ended up going to sleep PEACEFULLY and HAPPILY)

+ Sero was too shy and flustered to respond so denki took over on the last part

+ y/n refers to sero as “THE Sero Hanta” because she has the most massive crush on this man and she thinks NOBODY can top him

+ while this cute love story is happening, Kirishima starts to notice a upcoming artist? Who the hell is Tokoyami??

+ Y/N is like a older sister to izuku

+ NEXT CHAP IS GONNA BE LONGER, THIS ONE WAS RUSHED BC I HAD TO SLEEP SORRY LOVES</33

+ y/n didn’t respond to sero’s question the first time cause she was giggling and kicking her feet💕

Taglistt!! : @idkidk32 @babylambdietcoke @soupbowl18 @shifting-taylorsversion

[icypenguin]

☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ It’s not her?

HEY GUYSSSIJHSIHSJOHS im finally uploading heehe ill upload for tomorrow and sunday too :D btw this will take place in modern au! reader is a female (sorry T-T) and i suppose its hurt/comfort so enjoyyy!

note: [f/a]: favourite animal

☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

prom was coming soon, everyone was excited ofcourse. you looked at lyney who was poking his lunch food. he looked lost in thoughts which is very odd. “hey lyney? you okay?” you tried talking to him but he didn’t budge. “lyneyyy?” you tried to call out for him again. but no response. “LYNEYYY!” he finally noticed your calling. “huh- oh” he looked at you with a straight face. “hey.. what’s wrong? you seem.. um idk, worried?” you looked at him with worried eyes. he’s never been like this before. “whaaat?! no way! ofcourse i’m not, i’m the brave and charming lyney!” he added a wink at the end. you chuckled at his response but then back to seriousness. “okay okay quit the joke, what’s wrong?” “nothing’s wrong y/n everything is fine!” he forced a smile on his face. you know you can’t really do anything else so you went with the flow.

“fine.. anyway, have you got someone in mind for prom?”. he placed a finger on his chin “mm i guess so…” a grin was added to his face. you didn’t know how to react, worried, glad, happy, sad, frustrated? “OOO who is ittt?!” you tried to act like you were excited but at the bottom of your heart, you were worried. your heart beated fast for him to say his answer. badum badum badum.. “hmmm… i can’t tell youuu! it’s a suprise ofcourse, just wait~” he winked again and now starting to eat his lunch.

you knew this was going to be his answer so you rolled your eyes and acted like you didn’t care. well, you didn’t want to look like you’re desperate for him because you think he’ll probably make fun of you anyway. well, the thought hurts you. “whatever i don’t care anyway” you tried acting cool and stuff. lyney hearing your response, it hurts him. he thought you’ll well- idk? beg for him to reveal the answer. but he’s not ready to say it anyway.

the bell rang, you both got ready to head to class again. “what do you have next?” you asked while you cleaned up your food. “bwiowogwe-“ “what?” you looked at him, his mouth was full of food. he looked like a chipmunk with nuts full in its mouth. you giggled at him, he always got his ways to make you laugh. “lyney! what do you think you’re doing?” you chuckle again. he tried to chew his food down but ofcourse it was tough so he mixed it with some water (idk if u think thats gross or what but u understand right? thats lyney).

after 3 minutes he finally swallowed all of the food in his mouth. “i have biology next” he answered like nothing happened. you chuckled again and smiled “great! we have the same class. now let’s hurry up!” you both quickly ran into the classroom because you were already late 5 minutes.

there you finally arrived and as you open the door, all eyes were on you both. “lyney, y/n, why are you both late? and together?” miss clorinde crossed her arms as she looked at you both. you looked at eachother blushing a bit. “my foot got stuck and y/n had to help me” lyney covered it up confidently. you went with the flow because is they know the truth its well- silly. “alright, if you’re both late again i’ll make you stand on one leg at the front” she declared, then she made a hand sign for you to sit on your desk.

there’s no desk side-by-side thats empty so you decided to sit next to lynette at the corner. lyney sat next to lumine at the middle. through the class, you kept looking at lyney and lumine as they both were passing notes. now, you’re sure he’s asking her out for prom.

the bell rang and you packed your bags. when you looked around, lyney was already gone. ‘oh he’s probably already with lumine’ you thought. but you noticed that he left his notebook in his desk. you searched for him and spotted him in the school garden… with lumine. he was holding a bouquet and a [f/a] plushie in his other hand. you knew he knows your favourite animal, but why give it to lumine? was he playing with you this whole time? was he just using you? the passing notes made sense then.

tears were starting to form in your eyes. you couldn’t hold it anymore and ran to your dorm. you didn’t care whoever was seeing you. your heart was broken. you went to your dorm and huddled up on your bed, letting all the tears out. you looked to the frame on your bedroom with a picture of you and lyney at a carnival together. you threw the picture on the carpet and cried silently. after some minutes lynette, your dorm mate, came in, “y/n?” she knocked on your door. “w-what?!” you continued crying. you didn’t care if lynette sees you crying, she’s been your bestfriend since you were a kid.

lynette opens the door to your room carefully and saw you huddled up on the bed. “oh y/n.. what happened?” she asked you in a worried tone. “i-i saw lyney asking lumine to prom! i mean.. what was i thinking? it’s obvious that lumine is better, smarter, prettier, sweeter, nicer, lovelier-“ “y/n.” lynette looked at you with a straight look. “lyney is waiting for you” “well- he probably wants to talk to me about lumine accepting him” you choked out a sob. “no.. no he doesn’t. please just see him okay?” she wiped the remaining tears from your face. you didn’t know what could possibly convince you to see him but a piece inside you told you to.

so you standed up, not caring if you look bad. and went to the door and as you open it, lyney is there holding the bouquet and the [f/a] plushie that he was holding infront of lumine. you were confused. “in a garden- wait y/n what’s wrong? have you been crying?” lyney got worried as he saw your puffy eyes. “what are you doing lyney? i saw you asking lumine out for prom..” tears were starting to form in your eyes again, and you hate it. they were starting to drop. “w-what y/n it’s not what it looks like. please dont cry” he tried to comfort you. “what do you like it’s not what it looks like?! you clearly asked lumine to prom and i bet she accepted you!” you were starting to cry again. “n-no wait hear me out! it was just a practice. the person i wanted to ask out to prom i-is you. i wanted to make eveyrhting perfect so i ddi a practice with lumine”. after hearing lyney, your tears stopped. “w-wait.. so you weren’t asking her out?” “no, ofcourse not, she likes that childe guy anyway- now may i do my thing?” you felt relieved to hear this.

you chuckled and nodded. “being clever as ever, sitting in a field with a bee. to the sweetest girl ever, will you go to prom with me?” he smirked at the end. you giggled at this and replied “ofcourse! ofcourse ofcourse ofcourse!” you hugged him vigorously and he gave you the bouquet and plushie. “aww you knew my fav animal!” you looked at the [f/a] plushie and the beautiful bouquet. “ofcourse, i’m a loyal one” he grinned. you blushed a bit and hugged him again. “you’re the best lyney” you gave him a supeise kiss on the cheek, now it was his turn to blush. lynette watching from afar, is delighted by the sight.

☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

thankyou sooo much for reading! im sorry if its too long hehe… ill post tomorrow and sunday as well. advices are accepted, thankyouuu!

[mayisgoingnuts]

hiii its the anon from yesterday who yapped abt alastor being softer to the other hazbins during/after the tickle war, and ive come to provide you with some lee AND ler al content :)

so, after briefly reading thru this blog, i can tell that everyone loves al being SO obvious when hes in a lee mood (me included tbf). so, on top of his shadow being a menace n' him being 10x more touchy/twitchy than usual when he wants to be tickled, id like to give him another tell (that i HOPE?? someone hasn't brought up yet???): his good ole ears/tail!!!

methinks that whenever he's in a lee mood, his ears pin down/to the side whenever someone approaches him, even if they arent planning on tickling him!! yk, a common sign of submission in animals. as for his tail, you couldn't rlly tell unless he had it uncovered, but it'd be face down and 'tucked between his legs', (not ACTUALLY/FULLY bc if he ever caught himself doing that he'd make himself stop immediately out of sheer embarrassment gfajafakags, but he does the closest thing to it)!!! both things he doesnt realize he's doing unless pointed out, and i imagine it as the final push a ler would need to wreck him. like.. imagine someone from the hotel who's been seeing al run around all day, just out the corner of their eye, but theyre able to pick up on him being more twitchy and clingy than usual. plus, his shadow acting up.. and then the pieces all slot into place once they approach him to ask abt it and they see his ears fold back :) they then continue to make those ears flap and that tail wag :)))

AND like i promised, some ler content, still concerning al's ears/tail bc not only am i obsessed with them, methinks they'd also be good tools for him to use as a ler!!! for the cherished moments where al uses direct physical touch instead of magic to tickle his lee, i think it'd be adorable if he brushed his ears/tail against their sensitive spots, especially if he often does so '''accidentally''' after learning about it :) these are the first two scenarios that came to mind that fit what im talking abt, but feel free to imagine your own/smthn different:

ler al and lee husk, with husk having a really sensitive chin/neck!! al keeps pulling him close, making husks attempts at pawing (ha) him off futile by al scrabbling at his ribs and stomach, which eventually leads to al leaning his head forward n' makin' his ears accidentally flap against husks neck/chin, which makes the poor kitty *squeal*. theres like that brief moment of 'oh no' from husk before al leans back in and purposefully wiggles his ears back and forth against husk until hes laughing so hard he cant breathe 🥺🥺🥺 al is teasing him the entire time, much to his chagrin

and, for the tail!! ler al and lee angel dust!!! ive always imagined angel with a sensitive stomach, so al would either have to be holding him down/or against something in this scenario, but just think abt how cute it'd be for the two to be play-fighting but then angel lets out a *yelp* whenever al's tail brushes along his stomach!! angel'd get his own 'oh no' moment where al's suddenly pinning him down, using his hands to tickle angels armpits and ribs while his tail absolutely wrecks his stomach. angel would be making witty comebacks to al's teasing if he had time to breathe :)))

okokok that should be all its past midnight here i need to sleep!!! anyways ajagsfaggaha ty for reading hope you liked ittt :)))))

Anon this isn't a food this isn't a meal YOU GAVE ME A FULL BANQUET!!! GOT ME STIMMING SM ALREADY IN THE BEGINNING

And the scenarios too omggg, I freaking LOVED the unintencional thing of the ears going down, animal features doing silly things when someone is in a lee mood or being tickled is my weak point (Alastor's tail totally wags when he's tickled tho I am SO SURE)

AND HUSK WITH A HYPER TICKLISH NECK TOO IS CHEF KISS!!

[lovezbrownies]

ngl, I kinda wanna see a yandere pop idol now, I think it'll be interesting. I already formed a scenario, lol.

An adored pop idol who is a member of a popular girl group meets her darling at a fan signing event. However, curiously, unlike all the other fans, darling didn't seem like they wanted to be there and just radiated apathy and crippling depression, and they called her by her real name instead of her stage/nickname

"Oh, wow! Are you a student? Judging by that uniform, you must've come here after school! Thank you so much for supporting our music! UwU 🥰"

"Can you stop, please?"

"H-Huh..?"

"Sorry, can you just please sign my book so I can get home already?"

"O-Oh! Sure thing! 🥰would you mind telling me your name?"

"No."

Oomf. Anon. YOURE A GENIUSSSSUSU i love you is that ok I'm sorry

BUT i fucking lovee this idea, I've been wanting to write for a new character and try something new AND THIS IS ITTT

so what im thinking of is like, such a cutie patootie but cucoo in the head ya know? most of my characters are like that but i feel like

she's going to be the "oh my good I'm sooo luckkyy!!! look how cute they are omg" fangirl type of yandere ya know?

I was thinking of either making her a k-pop idol or a pop idol similar to maddison beer or Sabrina carpenter i have to think!

Pop idol who has hundreds of thousands of stans only to stan a nobody like you.. Like she has a shrine dedicated to you she pray over every day like this is A-level type of yandere...

So imagine her shock when she sees you at a fan signing her group's hosting, she damn near faints and begs for you to look in her direction one more time!

And when you line up to her queue? To see her?! She goes fucking crazy, stumbling as she signs whatever shit every other unworthy fan wants her to sign, mumbling and barely replying in anticipation for your turn, only for you to look so... Unhappy to be there? What? Maybe you're just like her! Maybe you wanted this to be one on one! Not with a hundred other people! She can arrange that don't worry! She will have everyone kicked out of the venue if you dare so ask.

Finally come your turn only for you to be so dismissive of her and her presence... Do you... Do you hate her? Do you not remember her from high school? Are you only here to get something signed only to sell it for hundreds on the internet later?

And when she questions you, you reply almost with a hostile tone, "I'm only here to get this signed for my friend, she got sick before she could get to this stupid signing and begged me to do it for her... I don't like you or your company."

Ynadere pop idol goes into shock as you snatch the autographed copy of her photo and zoom to the next booth. You.. You have a friend? A female friend? That you'd do anything for? Even over something you... You hate? Why would you hate her? She hasn't done anything wrong! Sure she may have collaborated with a company that partakes in animal testing but she didn't know that when she signed the contract! And she's only doing that to get paid! You'd do anything for a check!

The next few weeks she obsessed over every minscule detail in your life as she stalks you even worse than before, your underwair now hanging high and mighty at the top of her shrine for you. Of course with her popularity she managed to whisk you away from your life of depression and anxiety to her penthouse! Don't worry darling~ she'll spoil you to the ends of the earth!

I will write more of this like a full fledged fic oomf let me just write something for Grim cuz I miss his muscular twinkie ass

[3-pots-of-soup]

lil zoo keeper au fic:D im not great at writing dialogue and such, so apologies if you cringe + any feedback/constructive criticism is appreciated!!

wc: 663

tw: non

ships: non

Pearl’s day was off to an awful start; first she’d slept through her alarm, making her rush through her morning routine, then discovered her roommate and half brother Grian had drunken the last of the coffee. “This day *cannot* get worse.” Pearl said mid traffic jam.

Her day, could, in fact, get far worse.

She arrived to work thankfully on time and began her trek to the invertebrate house, on the other side of the zoo; she was so excited for the construction on the north entrance to finish.

When Pearl finally entered the invert house she was immediately greeted by loud chirping and a very frantic Mumbo “PEARL PEARL!! THE GRASSHOPPERS GOT OUT!!”

“WHAT DO YOU *MEAN* THE GRASSHOPPERS GOT OUT?!”

“I MEAN THEY HAVE ESCAPED THEIR ENCLOSURE AND. THEY. ARE. *EVERYWHERE*.”

As Pearl took in her surroundings she found that her coworker was right. The grasshoppers were indeed *everywhere*. “The zoo opens in under a half hour what do we do?” She asked in a panic.

“Scoop them up?” Mumbo suggested hesitantly.

“And put them where? It’ll take hours if we do it pick them up and put them back in the tank one by one- hold on how did they even get out in the first place?” Pearl questioned.

“Er, I might have forgotten to close their tank properly after I fed them last night.” Mumbo squeaked out.

Pearl stared at him blankly for a few seconds, then spun on her heel and began walking out of the building “Wait where are you going?” Mumbo asked in a panicked tone “Please Please don’t leave me alone with this disaster!!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back in a few, I’ve got a plan!” And with that Pearl bolted out the door

As quick as she could Pearl ran towards the nearest drink stand “CUPS!” She shouted

“What?” Replied the bewildered employee

“ANIMAL ESCAPE I NEED CUPS WITH LIDS!”

The employee, name badge reading ‘Shelby S.’ responded by quickly grabbing a small stack of plastic cups and a small stack of lids for them “this enough?” She asked

“That’s perfect thank you!” Pearl said grabbing the cups and racing back to the invert house. She returned to a sign on the door in rather poor handwriting that read ‘Building not opem’. When she attempted to open the door she found that it was locked, and when she reached down to grab her keys, she found that the carabiner that normally held them, along with her id, was gone “dammmnn ittt.” She groaned, dragging her words, and began to bang on the doors.

It was only a minute or so until she saw Mumbo race over one hand in a gentle fist, hurriedly opening the door to let her in “what’s in your hand?” Pearl questioned once inside

“A grasshopper.” Her friend replied.

“Here” said Pearl, rolling her eyes and placing a cup in his free hand “you can put a few in here, toss the lid on, and once we have a few cups, we can put them back in their tank all at once.”

“Have I ever mentioned you’re a genius?”

“Yes, but you could certainly do it more often; now let’s get bug catching!” With that the duo spent the next hour or so running about catching grasshoppers.

“I really don’t get why they keep the feeder insects in here and not in houses where they’re used.” Mumbo commented from his spot on the floor

“I agree, but I suppose it makes sense to keep all the colonies in one space, and if they have to be kept in one place, I can see the logic behind putting them with the other bugs, still, sucks *we* have to deal with them.” Pearl said, laughing a bit, “now up you get! We have to open this place up, there’s still like,” Pearl checked her watch and groaned “*eight hours* till closing.”

“Alright, alright” Mumbo sighed, pulling himself up “let’s unlock those doors.”

That’s all i have atm, my plan for the au is to write one-shots for various povs:D might have some shipping here and there (mumscarian my beloved) but it won’t be the focus! Again any/all feed back welcome, and thanks for reading!!!!

-🥘

[after-nine-at-the-oasis]

Aww brushing him :)

YEAHHH he trusts you now :'D that's great :'))

YAYYY no injuries this time 🥳🥳 lol xD

Awww 🥺 that's good but what about Owen :(( D:?

Like the two of them

Ope :o?

Eugh insurance 🙄

Yeahh it sucks :((

Ope?

What do you have cooking Owen?

OOOPE-

AAAAHHHHHHHH YES HE DIIIDDD 🥰🥰

ARE THOSE MY LOVELIESSS :DDD

:OOO A BARN RAISINGGGG :DDDD ❤️❤️😭😭🥰🥰🥰🥳🥳🥰🥰??!

Love that for us :')))

(also I did have a bit of my live reaction in one of the other posts since I was behind lol)

:O

IS THAT

THIS SONGGGG!!!!

BRO I'M ACTUALLY GONNA LOSE IT

AAAAHHHHHHH THOSE ARE THE BABEYS!!!

STOPPPP WAIT I'M ACTUALLY NOT OKAY

UAAAAHHHHHHHHHH 😭😭😭😭😭🥺🥺🥺🥺❤️❤️❤️🥰❤️🥰🥰🥳

AAAAHHHH THIS IS SO SWEEEEET

Look at my lovelies :'DD

Hi everybody 🥰

:O CARLOS SIGHTING?

I think sooo :D

Awww look at them all 🥰🥰

Y'all this song :'DD

AAHHH YES CARLOS SIGHTING 🥰🥰🥳!!

Nice :D

THEY'RE DOING ITTT

Y'ALL THIS IS BOUTTA BE IN ALL THE EDITS :'DDD

ALL THE SERIES EDITS GOTTA INCLUDE THE DRAMATIC BARN RAISING MOMENT 😭😭😭😭😭❤️🥺🥺🥺🥰

We love a dramatic barn raising moment/montage :'DD

UAGH the most family thing a family can do <333

Especially a found family

Anyway :'))

ALSO THEY LOOK SO GOOD :D

AAAAHHHHHHHH WHOOOO NICE JOB GUYS 🥰🥰🥰🥳🥳❤️❤️❤️❤️😭🥺🥰🥰🥰!!!!

I love them so much guys I'm actually not okay <333

The lovelies :'))) 🥺🥺🥰🥰🥰

Aww hey guys :')

I was just thinking it's too bad Tommy and Nancy and Mateo aren't there :')) :'(

Hey girl :'))) :'D 🥰🥺

Is she okay 😬😬

Hmm is Tommy okay?

I'm suspicious but. . .

Should you be hanging up on that phone call honey

Aww lol real

(the supposed to be doing homework)

Real 💀 especially since I was thinking of finally signing into TikTok on this phone to see some of the Lone Star stuff before the season ends lol

Anyhoo

Okayy okayyy

OH GOSH P H E W 😭😭😭😭🥺🥺❤️❤️❤️

That's so amazing Nancy :')))

I'M SO RELIEVED MY GOSH 😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️🥰🥰🥳

Oh thank goodness :'))) :'DD

AWWW the huggg 😭😭😭🥺🥺🥺❤️❤️❤️❤️🥰

Tommyyy I don't like the way you're talking

o.o

Uh oh

CRAPPPP NOOOO

NOOOOOOO TOMMYYY 😭😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️💔💔💔🥺🥺

SHE. BETTER. BE. OKAY.

I'M NOT SPENDING ALL EPISODE WORRYING ABOUT NANCY (and Tommy a bit but like worry about that when we come to it vibe yk) JUST TO SPEND ALL SEASON WORRYING ABOUT TOMMY 😭😭😭🥺🥺💔💔❤️

Idk if they'd fluke it but gosh I hope so xddd

Uaaaaghhhh 😭😭😭💔💔❤️❤️

Oh noooo look at her 😭😭😭🥺🥺

Guys once again Brianna, and Gina, acting their BUTTS OFF my gosh it's absolutely AMAZING

These people are icons just wow <3333

Anyway WHAT THE FREEEAAK 😭😭😭😭😭🥺🥺

I'm not okay guys thanks xdd

Now Nancy's gonna be worrying about her and on calls and stuff but no one else will knowww 😭😭😭🥺💔💔💔💔❤️

Not okay xdd

Amazing episode with some greeaaaat (/gen) moments but 😭😭😭❤️ xd

[hotarutranslations]

Gelato

Evening

📚non-no

📚VoCE

📚Up To Boy

Thank you very much, to everyone who checked out each of these😌🤍

It seems like there were a lot like, I preordered, so it'll arrive soon..!

Please look forward to it~~

This weekend on Saturday there is a concert in Miyagi, and on Sunday we'll be in in Fukuoka at PayPay Dome!

Exciting🌻

For Miyagi, I'm really looking forward to ittt💙

Its 1 performance, how fast…

Lets have fun!

From the east to the west the next day

Being able to stand at PayPay dome, Its an opportunity I'm really really happy about, There is a lot I want to enjoy as well🤍

After the match, there is a bit of time but, Lets probably fire it up! at the mini live!

I'm also looking forward to the circus 🫣🫣lol

Its forecasted to be really warm, Since there is a warning on the homepage, Please take care when coming to the venue…!

Really!

That is, on the day to day…!

No matter where you go can't travel without breaking a sweat… Take precautions towards moisture, salt and sunlight!

At the airport on the day of the Hokkaido performance,

Oda, Nonaka, Maria and I, Bought gelato,

and we had fun taking photos in front of the big HOKKAIDO monument like we're tourists🫶🏻 lol

Really, again,

Going somewhere every weekend.. Its different from traveling because I go to a venue every time but, Even then going to various places,

I think its fun~~🫶🏻

With this,

Until buying the gelato, we were each doing our own thing,

I was in a straight line for the gelato, Nonaka was a little lost finding milk, Oda had stopped to get a crab bento, Maria was heading left for some reason,

lolol

We each had our own thing but, We finally got together for gelato🤭🤍

Don't forget to apply for the autumn tour!

🪩"Morning Musume '24 Concert Tour Autumn WE CAN DANCE!" September 14th~November 25th 34 performances nationwide

🎫FC Advance Reception 〆Deadline July 26th at 5:00PM

Play▶️List

Graduation Announcement Blog🐣🪽

Hello! Station #531 I also talk about my graduation in this video

📺Hello Pro Dance Gakuen Season 11

Every other Thursday at 11:30PM~ Learning Locking from HIYORI-san

📺Sendai Broadcast "Ara Ara Kashiko" Ishida Ayumi Goes~! I appear once a month as part of the AraKashi Family

The previous shows, and makings, are on OX VIDEO STORE!

📺Otoboke POPS

TokyoMX August 17th (Sat) 9:30~10:00PM Ishida, Sakurai, Yumigeta are appearing

Thank you for following.. Instagram💙🩵

💿 August 14th new single✨ "Nandaka Sentimental na Toki no Uta/saiKIYOU"

̗̀📣Cheki Sign Talk Meet Announcement

̗̀📣Limsta

🪩Hello! Project 2024 Summer ALL OF US "Vega" "Altair" From July 13th~September 1st Traveling To 7 Cities Nationwide All Hello! Project groups are performing🔥

⚾️"Hawks SUMMER BOOST" July 28th (Sun) Mizuho PayPay Dome Fukuoka

After the match, we'll be having a live!

🪩"Morning Musume '24 Concert Tour Autumn WE CAN DANCE!" Its Ishida Ayumi's last tour💙 I'm looking forward to seeing you

📚July 20th Release "non-no September" special issues cover is, Morning Musume '24

.💎

Releasing on July 23rd

"Up To Boy vol.341" September Issue I will be on the 7net limited cover page

.💎

📻Morning Musume '24 Morning Jogakuin ~Houkago Meeting~

Airs Every Saturday, On Radio Nihon at 12:00AM~

Past Broadcast Episodes Are Available →Program Details

I visited as a guest🪽 "Sayashi Riho and The Time From Now On" presented by Meiji Bulgarian Yogurt

see you ayumin <3 https://ameblo.jp/morningmusume-10ki/entry-12861161256.html

[deadxlv]

Far Away Soul, White Cold Star 💫

Chapter: 3 “I-I can finally see..the sunlight..”

The glow of sunlight would creep its way through the cracked wave walls.. seeping it's way to pass its warmth onto the faces of the resting two. The sounds of slow passing wind echoed outside with the carpets of the cavern blowing softly- the sunlight rested against the Boys face yet its touch did not wake him. The light flowed into Kÿr who was now feet in the air tail swaying left to right slowly until it reached his face, no facial expression changes before he randomly sprung up and flipping onto his stubbed legs. With a wide extension of his arms he stretched in all directions going in random poses until he yawned falling onto his tush, Kÿr slightly chuckled to himself scratching his head turning to the Boy

  The boy had his head low sniffling and breathing heavy as if hyperventilating- he was snuggled up to the pillar shaking in his boots. Kÿr smiled as he approached- hopping over some small pebbles he broke the night prior, coming over to the boy he held his hand out to touch until something caught his eye. He looked down and quickly noticed a gold glow in the Boys satchel and in a swift snatch he grabbed a piece of folded paper only to stare in confusion, "Wh..is this him when he was younger..? And who's this weird animal guy behind him..?", in an instant the Boy would grab Kÿr by the collar of his white T-shirt lifting him up a bit and Kÿr yelled out spooked.

Boy growling as his blood shot tired eyes glared at Kÿr for doing such a thing to him and trying to take the photo from his bag. Kÿr freaking out would fold the photo back up and hold it out yelling, "Ay! Ay! Ay! Watch it Watch Ittt!! I-I wasn't stealing I Swear!! I- I uH I was making sure everything! Was uHhh.. I was making sure everything was where it was... a-And uh.. the photo fell out! Yeah it Fell Out!-". Kÿr gave a awkward scared smile to the Boy who was very frustrated that his so called new friend would try to do such a thing..but after some understanding the boy dropped Kÿr on the ground.

He hit the ground and tumbled a bit feeling his neck a bit spooked from such a instant grab- he was on edge but this was scary weird.. how is he that fast?! Only to look back and see the Boys blind eye and focusing on it he saw a strange black string pass over the blind eye then disappear behind the eye. He shivered under his skin standing back up walking a bit away saying to himself "D..damnn.. something's a bit off about him but.. I dunno probably he's shaken up after being in the desert alone for so long- yeah! He's.. he's just scared is all..-". Shaking off some dust and sliding his jacket back on..

Grabbing the folded photo from the ground the Boy would stare at it for a moment reminiscing at the contents before shoving it back into his satchel close by to his side and fitted his shirt back on properly glancing over at Kÿr who had his back turned to him the whole time. 'Maybe he was a bit too harsh with him.. but he stole from us- Hmnn..Father wouldn't be so proud we did this..' the boy thought to himself finally wrapping the scarf around his neck and face. Slowly sliding his scimitars back into their sleeves he would approach Kÿr wanting to apologize for his actions, he got on one knee and would tap his shoulder. Kÿr turning around with a more stern but bothered look on his face said, "Yes..?", getting slightly awkward the Boy would try to speak to Kÿr using his unique sign language. He finished looking at the feline-like creature attempting to apologize signing (sign language will be italicized) "I can't fluently say what I feel but I am sorry for hurting you that way..is there a way I can make it up to you?", he finished by bowing his head a bit and holding his hand out with a small look of shame on his face.

Kÿr would watch him sign and would be taken back by how confusing it was to even understand- his eyes scanning every movement and he just couldn't bring himself to understand until he saw the Boy hold his hand out to him. He looked at the bowed child and smiled going over and ruffling the boys brown hair and clasping the others hand before softly tapping his fist against it. The Boy looked a bit off put to the gesture, but Kÿr gave a thumbs up and said, "I call it a Bro-Fist, that's our sign of understanding! We do that and we'll be able to get what we mean and all!" He said putting his two fists together setting an example of the motion, the boy attempting the same but doing it a bit harder. Kÿr jolted and pulled the Boys hands to do it softly, "Woah Woah Woah..Eheh..Not tryna kill each other.. please- do it gently."The Boy stood up properly and made a fist- Kÿr did as well, the two tapped fists and would nod at each other the two sharing a smile.

Hours Later..

    The two would be outside in a never ending sandstorm, which blanketing the desert in its white pearly sands. The Boy was fixing his busted up armor with some black leather-like straps while he gazed out into the abyss of white. Kÿr having his face covered by a hood and bandana would turn in all directions trying to see if anyone or anything was in their proximity only to no avail, saying as he turned to the other, "Were out of luck this time..this sandstorm is screwing up with my senses and I can't pinpoint anything, B-but all I have is this jerky and we might have to move someplace else or deal with- I.. I just don't know.." Kÿr yelled out to the Boy as the storm raged on and loud winds roared in their ears, soon turning out to face the blanketing sandstorm.

Looking around almost aimlessly, The Boy would reach by his side, attached to a strap on his waist he pulled out a brand new makeshift board. It was a long piece of strange wood, secured with dark metal-like rivets, and long enough to fit his needs. Turning around as sand blew all over him he would pick up Kÿr by his tail and sling him onto his shoulder, Kÿr of course yelling out as he didn't see it coming from all the sand, "AY! F- oh.. this view isn't as bad as I'd imagine.. but wh-", is what he said before the Boy jolted forward and began to plow down the dune using the new sandboard. The blazed down the massive sand dune incredible fast causing a sand uplift in their wake, "Oooooh Yeah Baby! Whoooooooooooo!! Get us faster boy faster!! AHAHAA!!", Kÿr said holding on for dear life, yelling out in excitement as his hair blew in all directions wildly and sand screaming out with the wind in their ears.

  Skidding on the side over some rocks the Boy did a flip mid-air grabbing the front of the board and spinning around quickly, Kÿr mumbling in discomfort as he grew dizzy from the spinning until he slammed down on the Boys back harshly after they landed, the Boy glancing back at the feline-like creature with a hearty smile knowing his stunt messed with them. Swaying left to right on the board they would descend one final steep sand dune, the world around them shined from the reflective pearly white sand as they descended into the sandstorm again. Barreling down at high speeds burning the bottom of the board with the sand the Boy exclaimed out in excitement as they went down, Kÿr screaming out in fear that they will splat on the ground. A pause as they slid all the way down and as soon as they made it to the bottom they glided off another dune and whizzed through the air for a while, the two yelling out in glee from this whole experience. The Boy finally having someone to show someone his boarding skills to, and finally not being alone after so long with Kÿr made it so much more worthwhile. After some time they would get into a more rugged section of the desert filled with many cracked rock faces and high rise hills, steep cliffs hanging off each hill that extended above the sandstorms cloud.

 

It was growing closer and closer to the evening as the two stars in the sky began to set on the horizon, stomachs rumbling the two would stop on their journey after traveling hundreds of miles on now just a burnt out piece of wood. The Boy seeing his unusable board and getting slightly upset from the end result, but to make do he would snap it to bite sized pieces so he can use them for fire wood. Seeing there being no way they can make that journey back with what they have in store the two decided to set up camp on a cliff face uncovered by the blowing winds of the sandstorm. Now with some space and breathable air the two relax, The Boy sat back on a boulder, his legs cramped from doing all the work. Kÿr noticing this gave him his flask to drink some remaining water from saying, "Ppshh- still got some sand in my mouth.. eughh.. but, regardless are you okay? We're gonna need to find food at some point it feels like this place is getting emptier each day..-.", Kÿr said looking all around as the new fire they set burned ferociously. The Boy took it and began to drink a hearty amount being absolutely exhausted and without his board they're stuck here. He would nod back as a response fixing his posture, wincing at his legs posture making the recent cramp hurt a bit more.

The two would relax at their new spot as unlike the rest of the terrain this seemingly off set mountain stuck out like a sore thumb against the raging sandstorm, the boys would tell one another small stories amongst themselves. Stories of where they have been and what they have seen- although Kÿr was the one to speak about mostly everything and the boy listened, they were still able to have a long witted conversation about life. The Boy leaned toward stretching his back only to hear a pop, he rubbed his back and had a slight face of discomfort. Kÿr watched and shrugged saying "Felt that man.. if only we'd be in a different world we would be better off, but sadly all we had are these dried meat jerkies I had left over." Tossing one over the Boy sniffed the air for a second only to gaze at the dried meat and take it gobbling it up like a wild animal 'poor guy.. Tomorrow is gonna be a long day- especially to find something to eat and drink, maybe to lift our spirits I can tell him about the tale of when I blew up some flying metal thing in the sky.. he'd probably like it?' Kÿr thought to himself as he finished up his own slice of jerky. Sitting up and getting the Boys attention Kÿr would say aloud over exaggerating his story, the tale of his strange air thing misdemeanor..exalted in confidence in this instance as if no one else was around..

Although a long awaited journey from the small campsite the strange creature lived at, in a attempt to find a better place to live they would find companionship amongst one another. Stars twinkling like diamonds in the sky, the quantity of streaks of light passing on by would only make you watch on in sheer awe of its beauty. Far from Home and separated from all ties it was only them against the world, a strange union and even a stranger bond- even with somber wet footsteps of death sneaking through the fold..you can relax in this moment as the storm begins to die down..

Forgone..like He always used to say..

[claitea]

I JUST FINISHED WATCHING THE 20TH ANNIVERSARY TRAILER WH. THERES SO MUCH. HELLO. WHAT. HI. I'M OVERWHELMED

[dracowars]

Really love your draco ficsss 🤗🤗🤗 i was wondering if you can make one before the war where draco obliviated reader then looks for her after the war aaaa would love to see your take on ittt tag me

remember me | draco malfoy

pairing: draco x reader

word count: 1,8k

summary: where draco obliviates y/n

a/n: while doing research for this one i didn’t even know that when you use obliviate, you can’t reverse it anymore if you’ve used the wand for another spell :o i guess you always learn something new lmao @belladaises i hope you like it! <3

warnings: angst, mentions of blood

universe: harry potter

Footsteps and screams echo through the dark corridors of Hogwarts as Draco finds himself in one of the hallways after apparating there mere seconds ago. Getting to the right place at the right time, he immediately gets hold of some of the Slytherins, including his friends, whom he pulls with him, informing them about his – or rather Lord Voldemort’s – plan. Draco knows what he has to do, but he also knows the consequences his actions will have.

His hands are shaking, and he is having a difficult time to breathe after they walked from one side of the castle to the other, wands drawn and always at the ready in case there are any emergencies or incidents on their way. What Draco did not expect, however, is that he will find you along his way.

With a pained expression on your face, you lean against one of the cold brick walls, about to lose your footing and to fall to the ground when Draco is already at your side and catches you in his arms before you can hit the hard floor. Previously, he quickly ordered Blaise and Goyle to move on without him and wait for him until he is done here. Carefully, Draco sinks to the ground with you and places you close to him in order to be able to take a closer look at you.

“Y/N! Y/N, what happened?”, he asks you with concern in his voice and already reproaches himself internally for not being here to fight by your side. But he knows that he can’t. After all, you are on the opposite sides in this terrible war.

Slowly, you raise your head and do not seem to recognize him at first, until your vision clears, and you look directly into his worried face. You immediately push yourself closer to him, his closeness bringing you some calmness and making you feel protected and safe, although walls are blown up around you while wizards and witches give their lives in the bitter fight for Hogwarts.

“D-Draco? You are here”, you breath out, your voice rough and strained from your previous screams. You had split up into groups to face the Death Eaters, but you were separated from them when a part of the ceiling fell down, several pieces burying you beneath them. The hope that is now reflected in your eyes upon seeing him, here and with you, breaks Draco’s heart. You really think he is on your side.

It is only when you groan in pain that Draco realizes that you are clutching your leg, which is covered in blood.

“Come on, I will get you out of here”, he whispers to you and helps you straighten up, the guilt plaguing him. You are badly injured, and he was not here to prevent you from getting hurt. Carefully, he puts your arm around his shoulder so you can move faster together than if he would carry you. Since it is not anything than safe here right now, Draco hurries to get you out of there as fast as possible.

“It is not as bad as it looks. I promise”, you try to calm him down, but once your foot touches the ground you twitch in insufferable pain and pull your foot back with a hiss, your hand immediately going to your tigh where it hurts the most.

“What happened?”

“I was careless and then a part of the ceiling buried me beneath it.”

The shock on Draco’s face is enormous when he realizes what could have happened, how it could have ended with you laying under masses of bricks with no one knowing. That he could and still can lose you in this bitter war for life and death. Briefly, he carefully inspects your leg – broken – and without any hesitation, he picks you up in his arms and carries you to a safer place. The safest place would probably be where all students, who do not fight, are hiding, but if Draco asked you about it, he would have to pass this very important piece of information on. And thus, he would also leave you to a terrible fate.

“You are safe here. For the time being”, he finally says as he places you at the end of a staircase that no longer leads to where it originally should, and kneels down in front of you, stroking his hand over your cheek lovingly. Shaking, you place your own on top of his and press his palm to your skin to feel its warmth.

“Draco, if we make it to the seventh floor then-“

“Do not tell me. Please”, he almost begs you. His pleading leaves you puzzled and slowly but surely makes you doubt why he is actually here. Gently, Draco takes your hand in his and places a delicate kiss on your knuckles. You sadly watch him until you bring up the courage to ask this one question that burns on your tongue.

“Why are you here, Draco?”

The realization hits you like a train, much more painful than the pain in your leg, when he just looks at you with glassy eyes and fails to give you an answer. Tears well up in your eyes when you notice that you no longer have your loving boyfriend in front of you, but your enemy.

“Why, Draco?”, you ask him desperately, the first tear already finding its way down your cheek, but Draco does not have the heart to look into your eyes, too scared to see the pain and disappointment in them. Sighing, he shakes his head, letting it sink.

“Everything will be fine, I promise”, he manages to say while his heart contracts in pain. Suddenly, he perceives voices that are still far away, but he hears them coming closer. With trembling hands, he reaches for your wand, which is sticking out of your boot as he has made his final decision. Confused, you look back and forth between him and the wand in his hand.

“What are you going to do? D-Draco? You do not have to do this”, you stutter out as he looks directly at you with his gray eyes which seem much darker now. Gray eyes that once shone with so much affection and now only radiate a tremendous coldness that makes you shudder.

“Now listen carefully to what I say, Y/N. You have to promise me that you will not use your wand anymore”, Draco explains to you, but you can only look at him speechlessly while tears run down your cheeks in waterfalls, not knowing what he will do next.

“I am so sorry”, is the last thing he says to you before casting a spell. “Obliviate.”

With these words, Draco pulls any memories you have of him out of your mind. Every shared laughter, every shared grief, he frees you from all of it. He frees you from the burden of ever knowing him.

With one quick movement he puts your wand back in its original place and quickly stands up, watching how your face loses all emotion as you abruptly stop crying over nothing. Before he can regret his decision, he turns away from you and looks into the corridor from which he previously heard the voices. At the other end of the corridor, he discovers Neville Longbottom, who is running through Hogwarts with some students. Clenching his fists, Draco walks in the middle of the corridor, facing them from afar.

“Neville!”, Draco shouts as loud as he can, immediately gaining Neville’s attention, who now comes running towards him with his wand drawn, ready to attack. Draco swiftly runs back to where you still lean against the wall, but just as Neville turns around the corner, Draco disapparates to another part of Hogwarts.

You are safe at last.

════════════

Surrounded by nothing but rubble and ashes, Draco wanders through the last remains of Hogwarts alone. His clothes are torn apart, and his face is soiled – all signs of the bitter fight that took place here before. But now it is over. They lost.

But Draco does not care who won or lost. He chose to switch sides in the end anyway. All he wants now is one more thing: to find you and to make sure you are okay. Every time he trips over a lifeless body on the ground, he looks away in fear that he may recognize your face in one of the corpses. Pressing his hand against his aching left shoulder, he walks into what is left of the Great Hall and a glimmer of hope builds inside of him as he recognizes Neville standing in the middle of it.

Quickening his pace, Draco walks towards him, his gaze fixed on the people he is currently talking to. When Draco gets to them, however, his heart sinks and panic pervades him as he does not see you. You are not here.

Desperately searching for any signs of you, he looks around, his pulse getting faster by the second, until Neville finally taps on his shoulder and points to somewhere behind him. Draco turns around immediately, only to see you limp into the Great Hall with the help of Ginny Weasley, improvised stabilization around your broken leg.

Tears of joy well up in Draco’s eyes and he cannot help but run up to you and close you in a tight hug that almost knocks the both of you off your feet. Draco exhales in relief, clutching his arms around your fragile body, glad to hold you in his arms again, until he notices that you are trying to push him away.

Realization his Draco and he abruptly moves away from you.

“What was that supposed to mean?”, you ask him reproachfully, irritated as to why Draco Malfoy almost suffocated you in a hug.

“I- Well-“, he stutters, but the fact that you actually do not know him anymore is driving an ache through Draco’s chest again. “Where is your wand?”

“Excuse me?”, you huff out, the confusion evident on your face, but Draco quickly reaches for you wand before you can react, which pokes out of your boot, as always. Internally praying that you listened to him and did not use it when he was not by your side, he reverses the Memory Charm and watches a white streak touch your temple, piercing through your skin before vanishing completely.

You blink once, then a few times rapidly, adjusting your eyes to the light and when your gaze falls on Draco, tears well up in your eyes right away.

“Thank God”, Draco sighs in relief and hugs you tightly, but this time you actually return the hug. Weeping, you claw your hands into his shirt, your tears wetting the fabric, whispering what an idiot he had been and that he should never do this to you again. But at this moment nothing else matters.

You survived and found each other again despite the difficulties and obstacles. And from now on nothing and no one will separate you again. Ever.

[alynomali]

Iwaizumi Hajime x Reader  “𝚏𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜”

A/N : Hi hello i just got into tumblr and this is my first time writing a full on one shot in english because english is not my first language ;( so i’m sorry if there’s any error in my writing but i hope you guys can still enjoy the story :D anyway i’m on an iwaizumi hajime brainrot and i know y’all too so let’s just get into ittt ***** 

Genre : Fluff 

Word Count : 5k 

You woke up feeling lightheaded. You brought the back of your palm to feel your forehead that was burning hot hours ago. But after four hours of sleep and taking your medicine, the heat has subsided and was replaced by your normal body temperature. You sighed in relief but you still didn’t want to step up from your comfortable bed. Instead you rolled to the side to grab your phone that was laying on the nightstand, to get some info on school assignment, or any big news that you missed throughout today from your friends because you didn’t manage to go to school. When you turned off airplane mode, tons of messages from your close friend’s group chat rang loudly with multiple  ringing sounds, coming one after another. When the ringing finally stops, you open the group chat and skim through the chat bubbles your friends sent, curious to what they are discussing.

“Oh? They lost?” you murmur to yourself after getting an understatement. Today is the match of your school’s volleyball team against Karasuno High School. From the people who went and saw the match, it was pretty intense and they were neck to neck to one another. But in the end Karasuno won and they only a point difference from Aoba Johsai. The further you read the chats, one caught your attention

 I saw Oikawa toss the ball to Iwaizumi from the right end of the court and Iwaizumi got to spike it perfectly! That was crazyy

 Yeah, but even with that perfect toss and powerful spike, Karasuno managed to get it. Both team are crazyyy

 I saw Iwaizumi-kun cried In the hallway, poor him. He must’ve think that that one spike was important

 Aww no

 You slowly sat up from your bed, while still reading those lines over and over again. “Iwaizumi…” you mumbled to the air. You then checked the clock hanging on your bedroom wall, you saw that it was 7.56PM. ‘He should be home already..’

 You heard a knock on your door, and your mom peeked through. “Oh you’re awake! How are you feeling?”

“Great! My fever is gone”

“If that’s so, can you go to Hajime’s house? His mother and father are working late and he probably hasn’t had dinner, so drop these for him okay?” asked your mother while holding a nicely wrapped box probably filled with food.

 “Uh yeah okay. I’ll get ready”

 It is not a secret. To you, your close friends, and specifically Oikawa Tooru, that you have a crush on Iwaizumi Hajime. This has been going on for a long time, since the beginning of second grade. You got to be in the same class as Iwaizumi. At first you were a bit scared of him due to the somewhat tense atmosphere surrounding him, but turns out, he is the nicest guy you ever met. He spoke in a deep and gruff voice, but there’s so much tenderness in the way he speaks. His arms and hands are big and calloused from playing too much volleyball, but whenever he accidentally touches you, he is always so careful with his grip, or makes sure that he doesn’t touch you in an inappropriate way. His tall figure always towers over your 160 cm figure, but it made you feel secure. And there are many small acts he does to you that always make something in your stomach flip. You know that those are just the way he respects the opposite gender (from your observation), but it still made him so attractive to you. Plus he looks cute and manly although not you can call a worldwide handsome. Also  He probably hid a well toned body underneath the layers of cloth he wears. Before you got too far and deep into your thoughts of that man, you quickly shook your head to focus on your current mission right now. Iwaizumi probably is sulking as hell right now and you want to do something nice for him, or maybe just there to give him reassurance.

 iwaizumi’s house is just seven minutes walk from your house. Before you rang the bell, you noticed that the gate was not locked. “Did he forget to lock it?” you opened the gate and made your way to the also not locked door. You saw his training bag in the hallway entrance, meaning that Iwaizumi is home. But you were glad that there were no signs of robbery. “Iwaizumi?” you called him. The living room and dining room were clean and empty. Not even a slightest sound was heard. “He’s probably in his room”. You climbed up the stairs and saw that the door of his room is slightly open and you could see him inside drying his hair with a towel, back facing you

You knocked on the door and Iwaizumi jumped slightly. “y/n? How did you get in?”. You sighed, “You left the front door and gate open,”. “Oh.., wait here then I’ll go lock it,” Iwaizumi then went downstairs leaving you sitting alone in his room on his study chair. You’ve gone to his bedroom a couple times but this time it feels different. The room is filled with his scent of cologne and shampoo from his shower earlier. You carefully breathe it in and a blush crept to your cheeks, just in time Iwaizumi stepped back in the room “Okay wha- wait, why are your face red?”

You flustered, “What! N-No I’m perfectly fine! Maybe it’s because of my fever earlier, hahahaha.”

Iwaizumi raised a brow, “Okay? Anyway, why are you here?” he asks as he takes a seat on the edge of the bed, keeping his distance from you.

“O-Oh yea, um, my mother made you dinner. She said that your parents will be home late,” you said holding up the wrapped box in your hand.

“I already ate but i guess there’s still space for your mom’s cooking. Say my thanks for her,” you smiled at his words.

“Should I walk you back? It’s dark.”

“What? No, it’s not even 8pm and my house is just seven minutes away.”

“Okay then, thankyou again. Be careful on your way back.”

‘Wait? No no no no, I can’t just go home like this. He’s probably not going to eat his food and be sulking instead,” You stood up. Iwaizumi thought you were going to leave so he grabbed his phone on the nightstand and got comfortable on his bed with his back resting against the headboard. He didn’t sense your figure leaving his room so his eyes left his phone to look at you, “why are you still here? It’s not appropriate for a girl to stay in a boy’s room.”

“You did very well today, Iwaizumi.”

“huh?”

You clutched your fingers, “You did so well in the match today. I’m proud of you. Never think that you lost because of a big mistake. You didn’t make any mistake. You gave your best as you always do. Winning or losing is just a result. What matters is that even if you lost, you still gave all your might in the court. All of your hard work, your sneaky practices at the park in the late afternoon, it’s all worth it. Because you gave it all in the court today. Nothing goes to waste.”

Your voice was stern, but there’s a hint of tenderness in it. Iwaizumi just looked at you dumbfounded . After a while, Iwaizumi gave you a soft smile “Thanks, sorry we didn’t keep our promise to go to nationals.”

“Don’t mind me. That is your promise to yourself.”

“Right.”

After that, you still stood there. Arms crossed on your chest. Iwaizumi eyed you in confusion. “What…? Is there again?”

You then sat on the bed beside him, arms still crossed on your chest, “You’re gonna cry. I’m gonna stay here to accompany you until you’re done.”

“What?! No, I'm fine, you should go home now.”

“I’m not gonna let you be alone until you feel better,” you said sternly

“W-Wha- ugh..” Iwaizumi turned his face to the side, not facing you as he can no longer contain the tears that have been threatening to fall ever since he was greeted by the emptiness of his house. Because of the silence, replays of today’s match became clear in his mind. Every step, every move, every shout of frustration , every cheer of happiness, and the last whistle signaling the end of the game. It was awfully clear, every bit of it, and it made him feel hopeless. Like there’s nothing that he can do. His shoulder began to shake, and you could hear soft sobs. It’s like he’s holding back to scream because you’re there.

You never actually see Iwaizumi cry and now being alone with him is his weakest state flustering you. You did say that you’re gonna accompany him but now you’re confused as to what to do. You stayed silent, just watching him. He still doesn’t face you and his sobs became softer. You don’t like this, he’s holding back so much because you’re there. This is probably supposed to be his time, when he shut his door, turned off the lights, and curled under the blanket. Letting out all of his frustration into anything he can manage. But then you decided to come. You hate to admit it but you ruined his time.

But still, you didn’t want to leave.

So instinctively, you reached out your hand to touch the back of his neck. You can feel Iwaizumi tensed up a little. As he slowly turned his head to finally look at you, you and your hand up further to the back of his head, fingers buried in his soft brunette hair. Iwaizumi’s red and teary eyes looked at you in slight confusion, and you stared back at him with a pang in your heart. Seeing his hurting expression for the first time feels like something stabbed your chest. ‘So this is what it feels like.. when you care so much about someone..’

Without another hesitation, you lean your body towards him and let his head fall on your shoulder. The warmth of his body envelopes you and you can feel the sturdiness of his body. You wrapped both of your arms on his shoulder, trapping him in a hug. Your fingers stayed buried in his hair as you started to give it a soft scratch in an attempt to soothe him. “I said I’ll accompany you. So vent all you want. I’m listening.”

You couldn’t see iwaizumi’s expression. But you could feel his body relaxed to your soft touches and he began to cry loudly, “Damn it! Damn those Karasuno..! I-I too.. I want to go to the nationals too fucking damn it!! I want to go with my friends too… with my juniors.. damnit! Damnit argh!!” you  tighten your grip on him cause you feel like he’s going to burst. But you’re glad that he doesn’t move away from you. He was always so physical about these things, but now he just uses his words and emotions.

After some minutes, the hurtful scream and cry gradually turns into a soft sobbing. Your grip around his shoulder soften as Iwaizumi slowly moves away from you. “S-Sorry for ranting and um.. hugging you,” he sniffed and rubbed away the remaining tears leaking out.

You smile, “Don’t worry, but it feels good doesn’t it?”. He chuckled softly, “yeah.”

You fiddled with your fingers on your lap, “I’m sure everyone is feeling the same as you, Iwaizumi. I’m sorry I barged in into your supposed to be alone time. But I just couldn’t help it, I just can’t go to sleep tonight thinking about how you will have trouble sleeping. The others maybe will, but I won’t let you. Because you’re-- um..” you immediately stopped your words. Because just now you were just about to say the thing. Being alone with him and getting caught up in the mood urges you to, but you reminded yourself that you can’t do that, not when he’s in this state.

“What about me?” Iwaizumi tilted his head to the side, eyeing you in confusion.

You immediately shot up from his bed and gave him a wide smile, “Nothing! Anyway, enjoy your food. I should get going now,” you said while pointing towards the door.

“Uh? Oh yeah okay, I’ll open the gate for you,” you were tailing behind Iwaizumi as the two of you were heading downstairs. Luckily for Iwaizumi, you couldn’t see heat creeping up to his cheeks and he is starting to register what just happened between you two.

‘Nah, she can’t be…. Right?’

                              ~------------------------------------------------~

 The next day, you woke up from the ringing of your smartphone placed on your nightstand. You didn’t bother to look at the caller ID and just answer, “Ugh.. hello?”

“Did you just wake up?” Iwaizumi’s deep and gruff voice from the other line jolts you up from your sleeping position, “I-Iwaizumi??”

“I want to return the lunch box from last night. I had been ringing the bell but no one came out.”

“Ah right sorry. My parents left early to my grandparents house. I’ll be there wait a second”

When you opened the door you were greeted by the sight of Iwaizumi looking nice and neat in a pair of black jeans and a slightly oversized denim jacket over a grey hoodie. Your breath hitch at the sight of him until he starts talking, “Here” he handed the clean lunch box to you, nicely wrapped as well “The food was good, thank you”

“Yeah, you're welcome. Um.. are you going somewhere?” You asked while accepting the lunch box.

“I’m going to see Karasuno and Shiratorizawa match,” he said, putting his hands inside his pocket.

Concern filled your expression, “Are you feeling alright?”

He smiled softly, “Yeah, I can’t stay bummed out for too long.”

“That’s good then!” You beamed with a smile.

“I’ll be going then. When will your parents come back home?”

“Um.. maybe at night. They said they're gonna be there for a while.”

“And why aren’t you coming with them?” he asks again.

“I’m starting to prepare for the college entrance exam,” you said while rubbing the back of your neck .

“Ah, that’s nice. Well then, goodluck on it. Be careful, if anything happens, call me or Oikawa” he said, turning his back towards you. This soft part of Iwaizumi showing that he cares about you always makes your heart flutter and makes you fell deeper for him.

“Y-Yeah.. thank you..” and with that, you closed the door. You sighed as you tried to calm the loud thumping of your heart.

You mumbled, “Maybe.. I can do it today.. he seems to be in  a good mood.”

You looked down towards the ground, thinking hard, “Confession huh…”

                                     ~----------------------------------~

 Later that day, Karasuno vs Shiratorizawa match ended with Karasuno as the winner thus continuing to the national stage. Surprisingly to Iwaizumi he met Oikawa in one of the seats and now they are walking together out of the gymnasium.

“Hey Iwa-chan~, let’s go grab some food. I’m feeling like shit,” Oikawa said with a scowl on his face, his nose scrunched

“Then don’t come to see the match if you’re gonna be like this!”

“Stop being so rude and treat your best friend nicely for once will ya?!” Oikawa said with his arms folded on his chest.

Iwaizumi sighed, didn’t want to deal with Oikawa’s words any further, “Fine let’s go get something to eat,”

“Yay~! Let’s eat at a fast food restaurant!”

Along the way to the nearest fast food restaurant, Iwaizumi’s mind was wandering everywhere. Oikawa started to notice this because his friend had been bumping into stuff during their short walk. Oikawa bumped Iwaizumi’s shoulder to get his attention. He slightly jolted and he glanced at him, “What?”

“Is there something on your mind?”

“Huh? No, why?”

Oikawa sighed, “Really, Iwa-chan. You should be more honest. You almost stepped on a kid back there.”

Iwaizumi only huffed at Oikawa’s words.

“Is it a girl??”

“Can you shut up.”

“A girl it is!” Oikawa beamed, “Who is it? Who is it??”

“No I’m not thinking of that!” Lies. The truth is he was thinking of you. About what happened last night. About how you gave him the warmest hug he ever received. How you convey your words of comfort to him. He may have kept a dumbfounded face at that time but the truth is thousands of butterflies were raging inside his whole body. He didn’t know if it was because he has a thing for you or if it’s because he was flustered because you’re a girl and he is a boy. He never really thought of fawning over somebody. All he thinks about is just studying and volleyball. Yahaba and Kindaichi always prattle about how much they want a girlfriend but he’s never really into those kinds of conversation. But what if he’s finally getting his first ever love story now? He’ll be damned because he’s never prepared himself for these kinds of things, even though he’s almost 19 years old.

So he decides to swallow hard his ego and eyed his gaudy bestfriend intensely, before he forces words out of his mouth “Um.. O-Oikaw—”

“Oh! Is that y/n-chan?” Oikawa suddenly said as he pointed a finger to get Iwaizumi to also look at where you were standing. Oikawa is about to call you when Iwaizumi suddenly blurted out

“W-Wait! Don’t call her!”

Oikawa looked at Iwaizumi confused, but then his lips formed a cheeky grin “Humm?? What’s this?”

Iwaizumi's face turns beet red, “A-Ah! No I-I’m—Um..” Iwaizumi wanted to die instantly at that exact moment because now Oikawa is clearly holding back his laughter. A mischievous grin is plastered on Oikawa’s face as he ignored Iwaizumi and made his way towards you calling out your name, “Y/n-chaann~!”

Iwaizumi gritted his teeth while covering half of his face with his hand “Fuck that shittykawa,”

You were standing on the side, beside the trashcan as you are currently finishing your drink so you can quickly throw it onto the trashcan. Until the familiar voice of Oikawa beamed through the street, making you quickly snap your head to the side to see Oikawa currently walking towards you with Iwaizumi behind him.

“Oikawa! Iwaizumi!”

“Yahoo, what you doing here alone?” asked Oikawa.

“I just came from the bookstore. I’m looking for stuff to help me study,” you answered, throwing your empty drink into the trashcan.

“Me and Iwa-chan are going to eat right now, do you wanna come? Iwa-chan really wants you to come apparently,” Oikawa said wiggling his eyebrows at Iwaizumi.

“HUH?!” Iwaizumi was beating the shit out of Oikawa while you only stood there smiling awkwardly.

“Uhm yeah sure I’ll come.” You answered when they finally calmed down.

“Yay~ okay then let’s goo! And Iwa-chan stop being so jumpy and fidgety will you?”

“I’M NOT! Come on let’s go,” you eyed Iwaizumi worriedly, wondering if you did something wrong. So you reached Iwaizumi's side and asked him “Hey, are you alright?”

“Huh? Oh yeah I’m fine. Don’t worry about it, sorry,” Iwaizumi said as he averted his eyes from you. Iwaizumi is acting weird when you join their walk to the restaurant just now, you didn’t want to think too much into it yet you can feel slight warmth creeping up your cheeks.

“We’re here!” After five minutes the three of them finally arrived at the said fast food restaurant. You offered to find a seat while Iwaizumi and Oikawa went to stand on the line to order. You finally sat yourself down and got yourself comfortable. Unknown to you, Oikawa and Iwaizumi are having their own convo about you.

“Is there something going on between you two?” Oikawa asks.

“…no”

“And I will say this to you over and over again, be honest Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi pondered for a moment before talking in a much quieter tone, “Yesterday.. y/n came to my house.”

Oikawa blinked, “What? Why?”

Iwaizumi grunted, reaching up his hand to rub the back of his neck to somehow ease the heat on his face, “Um.. she actually came to give me food because my parents are home late. And um.. after that…'' Iwaizumi trailed off, hiding his face from Oikawa.

“What! Don’t leave me hanging!” Oikawa then gasps, “Oh my god don’t tell me---!”

Iwaizumi quickly retorts, “No shithead! She just hugged me because she knows that we lost the game yesterday. And um I don’t know how to explain it but at that time, everything feels so intimate and uh- I don’t know…”

“Ohh~ So you’re in love?” Oikawa smirks.

To Oikawa’s surprise Iwaizumi didn’t yell or smack him in the head but only eyed him, “I don’t really know. I mean, I’ve always been so flustered whenever she does something for me. But I don’t know if it’s just because I feel nervous of the opposite sex.”

Oikawa tapped Iwaizumi on the shoulder, “Well my man, it doesn’t matter if you both are the opposite gender. If you don’t feel anything towards her then you will be comfortable in any kind of situation. Don’t worry I got your back, because I know you’re suck at this so I’ll make the chance so you two can have a talk together,” Oikawa said with a wink at the end.

“Ugh.. I can’t believe I’m getting advice from you… you look a hundred times more annoying right now.” Iwaizumi muttered.

“Rude Iwa-chan~!”

Suddenly people around them were silent and started whispering while looking in a certain direction. Oikawa and Iwaizumi stopped their bickering to try and see what’s going on. Not long after, there are two staff coming out from behind the counter to go to a certain table

“Miss, are you alright?”

“We have a change of clothes if you’d like..”

Iwaizumi pushed himself through the people gathering around the scene and saw that it was you. Your outfit was drenched in supposedly a drink, some of the liquid even splat onto the table and on the floor under too, making a mess.

“Y/n!” Iwaizumi goes into full panic as he runs towards you with Oikawa behind.

When they got to your side, Iwaizumi immediately asked, “What happened?! Are you alright?!”

“Yeah.. just now a guy came up to me and tried to ask for my number. I declined it but he just kept pushing me to do so, and I pissed him off so he threw the drink he was holding at me..” you let out a small laugh.

Iwaizumi gritted his teeth and punched his fist onto the table “Where is he now, that jerk!”

“It’s alright Iwaizumi! He already left. I’ll just go and change now, it’s not like things like this never happen anyways,” you gave him a reassuring smile. Iwaizumi looks at you in shock, “I mean for a stranger to hit on me! They are usually never that aggressive. I'll change now okay.” You said standing up from your seat, following the staff to get your change of cloth.

Iwaizumi let out a deep sigh and began to help clean the mess on the table. He shot a glare towards Oikawa who was just standing on the sideline, “What are you doing standing there trashykawa!”

Oikawa only smiled and shrugged, “I just don’t want to ruin your moment. You’d be a good protective boyfriend Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi only grumbled in response.

 After all of that commotion, the three of you still sat down and enjoyed the meal. Even though the staff told you three that the food will be at service, you didn’t think it was necessary so you still have your peaceful lunch with Iwaizumi and Oikawa. The conversation you guys had quickly washed away the tense atmosphere. Oikawa and Iwaizumi talk about the match earlier and how pissed they were that karasuno won. But they seem to be a lot more chill than yesterday so you just laugh it off with them. After that the three of you left the restaurant and walked back to your neighborhood.

You were still talking with Iwaizumi and Oikawa along the way. You seem to not notice but you were talking and smiling towards Iwaizumi more, it has always been like that whenever the three of you hung out. You and Iwaizumi always seem to gravitate towards one another and it’s making Oikawa feel like he’s third wheeling. But he’s not mad though, he finds it cute. Now he’ll just have to give both of them a push.

Oikawa halted his track and cleared his throat, “Guys sorry but I need to go somewhere.”

You and Iwaizumi both stopped talking and stopped your track as well, “Why so sudden, Oikawa?”

“No big deal, I just forgot to buy something my sister asked for. You guys can go home!” Oikawa then lightly put his hand on Iwaizumi’s shoulder, giving him a thumbs up and a big smile, telling him through his head ‘Good luck Iwa-chan!’

 Iwaizumi’s eyes widened, mouth went agape, ‘Now?! Wait, I’m not ready yet!’

“Bye you guys~!” Oikawa sprinted to the other direction, leaving Iwaizumi and you alone. ‘Damn that trashykawaaa….’

“Let’s go, Iwaizumi ,” you said softly. Iwaizumi quickly became flustered, “Uhh.. yeah right.”

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence while continuing the walk. You were looking around as you walked while Iwaizumi on the other hand was in deep thought, thinking of how to use this situation to make his move. His train of thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your sweet voice calling out to him, “Iwaizumi, do you want to drop by the park? There is this small taiyaki stand that I want to try.”

“Sure,” Iwaizumi said with a small smile.

It was a quite chilly day and a gush of wind just so happened to pass through you and Iwaizumi. You didn’t have your long sleeved because it was wet from an earlier accident and was replaced by a short sleeved one provided by the staff from the restaurant. They apologize that they didn’t have a much warmer cloth but you reassure them that it’s fine because your house is close by.

In the midst of trying to keep yourself warm by rubbing the side of your arms, you suddenly felt warmth on your back as a jacket draped over your shoulder. You look to the side to see that Iwaizumi took off his outer jacket and gave it to you, “You look uncomfortable, wear this in the meantime,” Iwaizumi muttered softly, trying to press down his embarrassment.

You felt your cheeks heated up, “T-Thankyou..” you slid your arms into the sleeve to wear his jacket properly. It was obviously too big for you and his scent immediately envelopes you.

The two of you reached the park and your face beamed a smile, “Thank goodness not many people here, the other day the line was quite long so I didn’t get it. Come on, Iwaizumi!” you said as you ran happily towards the stand. He smiled softly at the sight of your small figure on his clothes and followed you.

You both sat on a nearby bench eating your taiyaki, “Ah, it’s warm..” you took a bite and hummed in delight. Iwaizumi's heart flutters upon seeing your cute gestures.

“This really worth 350 yen isn’t it, Iwaizumi---” You looked at Iwaizumi and saw that he’s actually looking at you. You froze and felt your heart beat faster at how Iwaizumi looked at you with such adoreness. You went silent for a few seconds, just looking back at Iwaizumi until you whispered. “Um.. is there something on my face?”

“Yeah.. you’re beautiful,” Iwaizumi said softly with no expression.

“W-What?” you were taken aback.

Iwaizumi sighed and looked down to his hands, he fiddled his fingers as he spoke, “I’m not good at this kind of things.. so um..”

You waited for Iwaizumi to finish as your heart beats faster every second making it hard to breathe.

Iwaizumi grunted and rubbed the back of his neck, “Y-You know how you said that you sometimes.. got hit up by a random guy on the street and um.. I was thinking maybe it’ll be easier to brush them off if you.. you uh.. have a boyfriend…”

Your whole face now is red, “O-Okay..?”

Iwaizumi finally faced you, staring into your eyes, “I-I mean to say—I’ll be your boyfriend!”

You went silent and you only stared at him with your mouth agape.

“I have always been so flustered whenever I’m with you, and without noticing I get jealous when a guy approaches you, like I was so mad earlier when a guy—no, I’ll get mad at whoever did something like that to you. So uh.. I’ll be your boyfriend.. if you’d like… so I can always be there for you..” he trailed off towards the end.

You were so taken aback that you just fell silent. Iwaizumi covered his face from embarrassment, “Argh.. that is such an uncute way of confessing, I’m sorry I don’t---”

Suddenly you let out a laugh, Iwaizumi removed his hand from his face to look at you with a pout, “Don’t laugh at me!”

“Sorry sorry! But you are just so cute. I can’t believe you can be this cute,” you said with a smile still plastered on your face.

Iwaizumi grunted, “S-So.. what’s your answer?”

“Hmm.. but I’m kinda upset that you beat me into confessing..”

Iwaizumi’s head snapped towards you, “Wait what?”

“Last night I actually wanted to confess to you, but I thought that the timing would be bad so I’m thinking when I should do it. But it turns out you confess the day after. So I guess I shouldn’t worry too much about you,” you said giggling.

“Well, I guess you do always made me feel better,”

You both fell silent again. Iwaizumi nervously spoke again, “So.. are you saying yes?”

You smiled, giving him a quick peck on his cheek, “Of course~”

Iwaizumi slumped down on his seat, face already overheated, “I guess I have to get used to this..”

                                       ~-----------------------------------~

a/n : arrgghh i can’t believe i finish this, more iwa-chan fics will be coming soon because he’s a precious man :D