#I have nothing else to do tonight the day is wasted and ruined

[phantom-does-a-thing]

i love literally just trying to vibe and then the most raw insecurities start to crawl out of the walls like scurrying insects

[redrose10]

Hello ! How you doing ? 😊

For prompt game: a hybrid au, with n° 25. "No strings attached" and n° 27. "You're mine".

Basically, Jungkook is this super popular lion, and kitten reader is his favorite fling, but she wants more and he doesn't.

That is, until she ditches him and starts dating someone else (maybe a bear hybrid Namjoon ?); and he absolutely loses it, ruining her date and making sure she'll take him back: this time for a real relationship, he is pretty much still jealous, so now reader has him trailing behind her at all times.

Have a lovely day, hugs and kisses 🥰

Hi! I really hope this is okay.

< Do You Want Some Ramen? >

Lion Hybrid Jungkook x Female Cat Hybrid Reader

Warnings: Swearing, possessiveness, hints of smut

Hybrid Au

#25 “No strings attached.”

#27 “You’re mine.”

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

Jungkook had his much larger hand firmly wrapped around yours as he lead you through the crowd of people. The holiday season was in full swing meaning people were out and about shopping for gifts, stocking up on groceries, and checking out the city filled with lights and music.

You watched as couples walked around looking much like you and Jungkook only you knew the truth. The two of you were not a couple, not even close. He simply wanted to make sure that your much smaller kitten frame didn’t get separated from him.

The lion hybrid was on a mission to find a new jacket and had asked you to come along and help him pick one out. Of course you knew he also had additional plans which meant you would end up underneath him at some point during the evening.

At first it was great. You guys were friends with benefits with no feelings or commitments to worry about but unfortunately as time went on you started to fall in love with him. Then one evening you found out you weren’t his only girl. You don’t know why it surprised you. He was young, attractive, and wanted by nearly everyone woman that saw him. It should’ve turned you away but it only made you want him more.

So a few weeks ago you confessed. Told him that you wanted to be more than his fuckbuddy. You wanted a relationship. You wanted to feel like something more than his prey.

The laugh that he let out made your heart sink. It seemed like he thought you were a joke, “Y/N…I told you from the start that this was just going to be sex between us. I told you I wanted nothing serious. Just sex, No strings attached.”

You nodded, “I know. I know Jungkook. I just…I don’t know if I want to keep doing this any more. Why keep wasting my time?”

You were surprised when he reached out and cradled your face with his hand. He placed a soft kiss to your lips., “You’re my favorite girl, you know that right? Kitten, you’re my favorite girl, but I’m just not looking for anything serious like that.”

Things between the two of you changed after tha. You started distancing yourself from him more and more. This shopping trip had been the first time you saw him is two weeks which was unusual.

You were just returning from getting some coffee when your ears laid back, your tail angrily swayed behind you. You found him no longer in the dressing room, but talking to one of the sales people at the register. You saw him eyeing her when the two of you walked into the store but you decided to ignore it at the time.

But seeing him leaning up against the counter…smiling and talking up a big game, something about coming over later tonight, made your blood boil. Just this morning he was telling you how much you meant to him and he never wanted to go that long without seeing you ever again and then here he was talking to some Cheetah hybrid seemingly forgetting that you were even there. So you turned and walked out of the store lazily making your way to the mall exit.

Your eyes were teary making your vision blurry. You kept your head down not wanting to draw the attention of anyone which somehow may have been your biggest mistake of the day.

You crashed straight into what felt like a solid wall. Your warm coffee spilled down your chest and onto the floor.

“I am so sorry!”

“Oh my I’m so so sorry. Are you okay?”

You both exclaimed at the same time.

That’s when you looked up to notice the man standing in front of you. He had broad shoulders, a solid chest, and was quite a bit taller than you. Peaking out of his caramel colored hair were two ears which told you he was some kind of a bear hybrid.

“I’m so sorry. My mom always yells at me for walking and reading at the same time. I guess I should start listening.”, he awkwardly chuckled, “Please let me buy you a new a coffee and a new sweater.”

“No it’s really okay. It’s my fault too. I wasn’t looking either. I don’t even like this sweater that much anyways.”, you smiled knowing that was a lie. It had been a birthday gift from Jungkook. He loved you in the color red. But you thought maybe it was a good thing that it was ruined.

“Okay well…at least let me take you out for a decent cup of coffee. There’s this cafe a few blocks away. They have the most incredible chocolate chip muffins.”, he said smiling and giving you a glimpse of his dimples.

You wanted to decline but you could feel your phone vibrating meaning Jungkook had finally realized you were gone and you were reminded about how you were going to try and move on.

“Yeah okay, that’s sounds nice.”, you nodded as he pulled out his phone.

“Oh my name is Namjoon. I guess that would’ve been nice to start with.”, he chuckled.

You typed your contact information into his phone and handed it back to him.

“Y/N, that’s a really pretty name.”

“Th-Thank you.”, you whispered feeling your cheeks heating up.

“I have to get back to work but I’ll call you later.”, he smiled as he walked away.

“Who was that?”, a familiar suddenly annoying voice said from behind you.

“Namjoon.”, you simply shrugged.

“Okay and why were you walking to him?”

“Because I can? Just like you were talking to that woman earlier.”, you spat feeling your irritation growing. Jungkook was silent the rest of the afternoon except for some mumbles any time Namjoon would text you.

You had questioned your outfit choice the entire day. It wasn’t until you had gone on a few dates with Namjoon that you realized that all of your clothes were some shade of red…because that’s what Jungkook liked. You didn’t really have the money to buy something new so you did the best that you could. You just hoped Namjoon would like it because tonight was your third official date.

Your phone rang for the fourth time and it was once again Jungkook. Things had been a little tense between the two of you ever since Namjoon came into the picture. You had ignored the first three calls not wanting him to change your mind or somehow convince you to cancel your date with Namjoon, again. But now you were starting to get a little worried. He was never one to beg for anyone’s attention so the fact that he called you four times in a span of fifteen minutes had you worried that something bad might’ve happened.

You called him back and he answered on the second ring, “Y/N I need your help. Please! How fast can you get here?”

“Umm I can’t. I have a date with Namjoon tonight. Isn’t there anyone else you can call?”

You knew he had a contact list as long as the dictionary of friends and flings that could help him with whatever he needed and you were tired of being the one he always called for nothing in return.

“Please Y/N, I need you kitten. You’re my girl, remember? I really need your help. It’s an emergency.”

If it wasn’t for the very slight crack in his voice you would’ve told him to fuck off and hung up but he hooked you. He never sounded desperate, at least not in that way.

“Okay I’ll be there in fifteen.”, you whispered before quickly hanging up. You called Namjoon and profusely apologized for having to cancel last minute. He said it was okay but then he suggested that maybe the two of you should put a pause on whatever was forming between you both. You didn’t want to but you couldn’t blame him. You could tell he was annoyed and then he which only made you feel worse but you grabbed your bag and headed over to Jungkook’s.

“What’s the big emergency?”, you questioned after he opened the door.

“I’m so glad you’re here Y/N. Come in.”

You followed him into the familiar apartment which was always surprisingly warm and cozy.

“Okay I’m here. Now what is the big emergency?”, you questioned with your annoyance obvious.

“Do you want some ramen?”, he asked innocently. Your mouth dropped open, “Seriously Jungkook? This was the big emergency! No I don’t want to have sex with you.”

He shook his head, “I didn’t call you over for sex. I mean we could…but I made too much ramen and wanted to share with you.”

“No Jungkook! That’s even worse honestly. I had a date tonight. A date with a nice sweet guy who actually seems interested in me and you ruined it.”

“Where are you going?”, he asked as you were walking towards the door.

“To call Namjoon and apologize and see if he’ll let me take him out to dinner.”

“Seriously Y/N? What’s so special about him?”

You rolled your eyes, “I don’t know Kook. Maybe it’s because he asks me about my day. He buys me flowers. He doesn’t expect me to fuck him just to spend a little time together.”

You finally got your hand on the door handle and had just gotten it open when his hand came and slammed it shut. He spun you around so that you were looking at him and he used his arms to cage you in. You had forgotten just how much bigger and stronger he was than you.

“Please don’t go Y/N. I don’t like seeing you with other men. I hate it actually.”

“Oh please. Don’t worry…you’ll have another woman here on her knees in no time.”, you spat feeling angry.

You yelped a little when you felt Jungkook grab ahold of your tail that was angrily thrashing behind you. He ran his fingers over the soft fur as he thought about his next words.

“Y/N…I want…I want to be exclusive with you. I want you to be my girlfriend. I’m sorry it took so long for me to realize that. I guess I was just…I was just fighting my own feelings but seeing you with him. I h-hate it.”, he dropped your tail and placed his hands on either side of you. Leaning close until his face was centimeters from yours, “You’re mine. Not his. You’re mine and only mine.”

You stared up at his big doe eyes. He had always hated them saying they made him look too soft for a lion but they were your favorite part of him.

“What do you say kitten? Will you be mine? Only mine?”

“A few weeks ago I would have been yours in a heartbeat, but now you have to earn the right to call me yours. BEFORE I say yes… you will have to prove to me that you mean that. Prove to me that you want only me.”

You weren’t expecting him to smirk but that’s what you got, right before he grabbed the back of your thighs hoisting you up and pinning you up against the wall like it was nothing., “Oh kitten. I’ll more than prove it.”

[taissasspidergirl]

cigarettes, cigarettes.

a/n: idk why i felt like dishing this out??? and it was so random too like 💀💀 also, melissa is adorable and deserves the best of hugs people 😎‼️ proofread but there might lingering mistakes left. leave feedback if you have any, enjoy reading you already knowww, mdni

w/c: 3.4 k words

warnings: suggestive themes, mentions of a casual affair, swearing, mentions of smoking, love used as a metaphor of addiction and smoking, drinking at a party, overly dramatic writing, attempts at humour, gay yearning. melissa is in love but kind of doesn’t know how to deal with it.

second part will be written. more will be told about the reader’s background, and we’ll have a deeper insight on when they started seeing melissa. let me know if i missed anything else :)

it starts below the cut 🤠

Sitting on the rooftop, your eyes are mindlessly trained on the landscapes drowned by lamplights. A cigarette hangs between your lips and you’re starting to taste the bitter, raw nicotine from how long it has remained unlit. You wish you could bring yourself to inhale the toxins and allow the rot to travel throughout your lungs, consequently tainting your oxygen, but you’ve decided that you do too much of it already, the smell of her lingering fragrance marking your bedsheets being enough to ruin your health. It was a deranging fact considering you weren’t even a smoker. You wanted to find an alternative addiction that would slowly, softly kill you. It’s better to crawl at the hands of death rather than someone. At least that is what you think. Though you were always kind of melodramatic in that way. She’d tell you that whenever you would plead with her to stay with you after your nightly secret meetings.

Looking back at it you feel a little embarrassed. All those wasted words and wasted time. Wanting nothing more but to go back to stop yourself from breathing three words that left a taste of bile at the back of your mouth even after weeks.

Taking the cigarette away from your lips you twirl it around your fingers, the paper now nearly melted off. You don’t want to throw it away, feeling ridiculous that you spent your money on a twelve dollar pack. Lying back to rest on the cold concrete, you carefully place the cigarette on your chest in an almost cradling gesture.

The cold wind blows past your face, the skin of your neck, touching the places that were traced by her lips. Your fingers reach for them and you swear it’s like she never left.

“I didn’t know you smoked.”

A voice startles you, jerking you up. Instinctively you hold the cigarette like you’ve been caught. The act itself is unintentionally amusing, making the redhead bite back a smile.

“I don’t.”

“There’s no harm in it if you were.”

She casually strides up to you. She’s so pretty. She always is but you can swear that at this moment you’d be on your knees apologising to her for something you didn’t even do. And maybe that’s the problem.

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t.”

You stand up, dusting off your pants, wanting to leave. The further you stay the more your brain shifts to your first conflict. Memories of raised voices, of tears, flushed faces and accusing words quickly speed past your membrane.

“Then why is there a box peeking out of your pocket?”

“Why do you care?”

Melissa sighs, crossing her arms. She wonders if whatever you had to drink tonight warranted that behaviour. But she also knew you never really were the drinking type. This only somehow worsens things, knowing that you’re sober and somewhat justifiably annoyed.

Ava’s laugh breaks the tension brewing between you, reminding your surroundings. At Janine’s flat, a get together between colleagues.

“This is useless.”

You make a move to leave but she steps in your way. You almost want to laugh at her boldness.

“We need to talk.”

“We talked already.”

You grit, looking down at your shoes. She is being unfair. Sending you off, ignoring you for days and only talking to you when she needed to. Your friends did catch on to the shift of the atmosphere but couldn’t exactly place it. No one asked any questions either, knowing not to bother Melissa when she was having her pondering moments. It’s not like they could ask you anything either, always finding a sly excuse to get out of the conversation.

“Won’t you just cut the attitude and be serious about this for five minutes—”

“You have no right to tell me what to be serious about, Melissa. Not when you’ve got some questions to ask about yourself.”

You’re right. She knows you are. You have that same look on your face the day you pronounced the same words that felt like an open wound. “Why’d you have to ruin everything?” She asked, not frustratingly cried out. Then again her reasonings were justified. The agreement you had between you was simple. No attachments, no feelings.

With flushed cheeks she looks ahead of you. Her pride not wanting to let you know you aren’t exactly in the wrong, at least not really. Whatever it is, she won’t give you the satisfaction. Much to your great relief. Biting back your tears, you scoff, walking past her. She catches the subtle whiff of your linen scent, instantly bringing back memories of you spending rare mornings in her kitchen. Or evenings of her trying to teach you how to cook Italian food but ended up being distracted by the way you wrapped your arms behind her, placing soft kisses on her neck.

A couple excuses and farewells later you left the party, wishing everyone well and ignored Ava’s slight inquisition in your mood. You waved it off, joking that you’ve had many drinks in you and needed to rest. Which you should have seriously thought of before because Ava being inquisitive Ava knows you don’t really drink, failing at convincing you to slip a few drops of alcohol in the punch at a PTA reunion that one time.

“Something’s off with Romeo.” She points at Jacob and Barbara, who casts a curious look as you leave. He thought about it for a moment before speaking up again.

“I think Romeo is the wrong romantic hero to use here—”

“Can we drop the nerding for a second and gossip…I mean, talk about our colleague?” Ava exasperates.

Usually, Barbara isn’t one for gossip, but she had to admit your behaviour was strange.

“The other day I still saw her class lights on. I presumed it was to catch up on correcting papers but this has been the fifth time in a week.”

“What do you think it is? Heartbreak? Food poisoning?” Ava ponders, already thinking of the bake sale that you participated in, and accepts a plate of visibly raw cookies from a student out of pity.

“Or maybe it’s just stress and fatigue?” He hums, pretending not to know what she was talking about. The truth is, he was aware. At least he had some idea. He saw Melissa in one of your shirts once. Chalking it up to you two having a sleepover he dropped the thought but it was admittedly strange. He tried talking about it to Melissa in a completely innocent curious way, to which she quickly shut him down. He tried asking you, but you would always find a way to slyly change the subject.

“Another theory is either a relationship or a situationship gone wrong. Probably the second one. I haven’t seen that look in a while, that’s someone who needs to get lai—”

Melissa enters after, walking towards Janine and Gregory. She asks for you but they confusedly answer that you left. Right. She knows you did. But a part of her hoped you’d stay. A tiny part.

“Hmm, I don’t know. Digging into her life seems a bit unethical.” Jacob scratches his neck, acting as if he didn’t want to know what was really happening.

“It’s not unethical if we’re preoccupied.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but Ava’s right. We should be rightfully preoccupied.” Barbara supports, earning a slight indignant expression from Ava.

“What do you mean you can’t believe what you’re saying? I’m always right. Almost always.”

“What are we saying?” Janine interrupts, smiling cheerfully at the group. “Oh…is it about the appetisers? Look, I know they’re not exactly homemade but I tried to make it look presentable.”

Melissa is right behind them, peering through the groups' eyes. She catches on to Jacob’s uneasy smile, who grabs an appetiser from a nearby platter to avoid speaking. Ava clears her throat and resumes talking.

“We know they aren’t homemade. Maybe that’s what got our friend sour.”

Ever the sweetest person, Janine’s tone changes at the mention of you. You did look a bit off. She really thought it was the food but you reassured both her and Gregory.

“Thank God because I ate at least ten of those…” mutters Gregory, offering a teasing smile when Janine bats his biceps.

“What got our colleague sour?” Melissa questioned, or rather interrogated. She knew she somehow had to appear clueless if she wanted to avoid having a discussion. The incoming questions were already giving her a migraine. Though the only person she’d trust this issue with is Barbara.

“Now, I am in no way condoning gossip nor peering into personal lives—”

“Oh, just spit it Barb.” Ava eggs on. Barbara sighs and rolls her eyes before turning to Melissa again.

“We think it might be a case of a heartbreak. The opposite of you, actually.”

Ironic.

“Is that what it looks like?” Melissa ponders, trying so hard not to let her voice waver.

“Oh, yeah, speaking of how’s your date going?” Janine smiles, knowing a bit about Melissa’s “mysterious date”, consequently allowing the topic about you to change.

“It’s…it’s going okay. Ish.”

“Are you thinking about going official?” Ava nudges her shoulder, a conspiring smile on her face. “I would like to see who’s giving you that glow. Like where did you find them exactly? Wherever it is, maybe they have more.”

She fights back from blushing, her brain rushing to moments of you taking care of her, your soft praises, how your lips traveled across every inch of her skin.

“That good, huh?” Jacob quips, instantly recognising that look she has. She had it when you left to get coffee and he could’ve sworn she wasn’t just “tired”. She was unabashedly gazing at you. The woman’s eyes widened, wondering if she should shut Jacob up. But that will for sure sell her out.

“Leave the poor woman alone. She’s not who we are talking about at the moment. But you will have to tell me everything soon, won’t you, Melissa?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll tell you everything.”

“In any case, I hope it’s not too bad. I’ve seen that kind of heartbreak before.” Barbara winces at the thought of your solemn face. You were genuinely bright, not too talkative, but still a positive figure at Abbot Elementary.

“Let’s all drink in the honour of our Romeo and hope it’s not that case.” Ava pours drinks for everyone, clearly not using this as an excuse to get everyone to drink.

Melissa stares down at her cup before taking another sip, hoping the cup’s contents will wash down the churning feeling in her stomach.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

The next following weeks went on as usual. You preparing your lessons, marking your students' papers. You think you’ve seen fiery red hair at your door but maybe that’s just your delusion.

Melissa’s week was fairly average like yours. Except that there is an issue. She’s not able to clear her mind out of you. That and you’ve left your shirt at her place. She wondered many times if she should call for you to pick up but has decided that your relationship is already awkward as it is. That and she still hasn’t told her best friend who had her smiling dreamily.

To make matters comedically worse Jacob is somehow connecting the dots. Asking her about the shirt you’ve left. Then about you and if you two talked recently. She tried to answer his questions normally but had a gut feeling that this wasn’t just innocent curiosity.

They were now at the professors' lounge room, having just had a lunch break with everyone except you. You said you needed to catch up on lesson prep and heated your lunch and left.

“Melissa I know it’s none of my business—”

“Damn right it’s not.”

“But I was just wondering—”

“Then stop wondering.” She shrugs, moving to pack her things from the lounge room. She liked to consider herself helpful but right now what she needed was to get home. And definitely not try to text you.

Jacob quickly stops her from leaving, blocking the entrance door.

“Jacob don’t make me start—”

“It’s her, isn’t it?”

She blinks her eyes, eyebrows furrowing.

“Look I know I shouldn’t care and it doesn’t concern me. But I’ve seen the way you two look at each other.”

Before she could even answer the door opens, making them both jump in fright. Barbara looks between them and shoots a conspiratorial glance.

“Gossiping again?”

“No?” Jacob answers as he pretends to dust lint off Melissa's shoulders. “Just catching up on…the weather?” To be fair he was a bad liar.

She shrugs his hand off her shoulder, looking at Barbara. She knows she can’t hide anything from her. What is surprising is that she can’t even hide anything from Jacob. Either he was too observant or she was becoming too transparent.

“Is anyone going to tell me anything?” Barbara raises an eyebrow, taking note of their awkward looks.

“It’s complicated.” Melissa sighs out, massaging her temples.

“I think this is something that you two need to talk about alone…” Jacob temptingly mutters, making a move to leave before the redhead grasps his wrist.

“Oh, no. You’re staying.”

It’s the least he could do for trying to dig into her personal affairs. His face is stricken with fear as Barbara’s confusion deepens.

“You might want to uh…sit down for this one, Barbara. But please don’t blame her for anything, I mean like she said it is complicated—”

“Wait, you knew about this?” Barbara inquisitions, her hand waving between her best friend and the frightened man.

“No, no, no! I mean I had some idea of it, Melissa was oblivious and I sort of figured it out—”

“Jacob. Quiet.” Melissa sits down on a chair, head dropping to her hands, mentally preparing for the incoming headache she’s about to get from all this mess.

“Will someone tell me what is going on? It’s not anything too serious is it?” Barbara takes a maternal tone, concern wavering in her voice at the sight of her friend in distress.

“You know I’ve been seeing someone?”

“Yes…? Did he…or they broke up with you? Sweetheart, I’m so sorry—”

“It’s someone we know.” The redhead speaks between her teeth, shame coursing through her body. She takes a deep breath, looking at Jacob who sends her an encouraging nod.

“You know I will never judge you, right?” Her best friend moves to sit in front of her, taking her hand in hers and lightly squeezing it.

“I know, it’s just…”

“Messy.” Jacob completes, earning an exasperated look from the redhead.

“Yeah.”

“Well I’m here to listen. And not judge. That’s not what we’re here for, right?” She looks up at Jacob, who shakes his head and offers his hand in support, hoping the redhead won’t break his phalanges.

“You know we’re here for you no matter what, Mel.”

The support is surprisingly enough for her to gain a little courage. She has to do it. If not for her then for you. Silence ensues.

“It’s…it’s…well.”

When Barbara hears your name, she swears she thought it was a joke. But at the look of Melissa’s face, she knows she is being completely serious.

“For how long?” The question isn’t meant to be judgmental, but the redhead fears it is.

“Four weeks.”

“That explains everything. You tolerated Jacob’s jokes more than usual.”

“Wait…you aren’t…mad at me?”

“Sweetheart, why would I be? I’m in no place to judge you whatsoever. As long as you’re happy and safe, you are free to live your life and see whoever you want to.”

“O…okay. Thank you.”

“There is no need.”

The pair hug, while Jacob awkwardly clears his throat.

“So does this mean I’m safe and won’t get kicked out?” He shrinks back in his posture as Melissa gets up, Barbara stands with her just in case she needs to hold her back. 

“Everything’s all good.”

“I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay. I think sooner or later you were bound to find out anyway..”

“It is true that I started asking myself a couple of questions when you didn’t have your glow anymore.” Barbara nudges her, smiling at the way she fights back her blush.

“Yeah, well…it’s kinda over now, so…”

“Over? Oh, honey, this isn't over for the two of you. Not until you two had a proper conversation between adults.”

“But she’s–”

“Then tell her you’ll give her all the time she needs. But soon you will need to talk. If she does not understand that, then at least you gave it a chance. Don’t let her run anyway again.”

She knows she’s right. She can’t let this go any further.

“Let who run away?”

Janine walks in a tow with Ava and Gregory. Mr. Johnson, who walked in to look for trash, stayed when he heard something that might make his day interesting.

Melissa looked at everyone before catching your figure in the hallway. You two share a fleeting look before you leave. Everyone follows her gaze before looking back at her. Ava raises her eyebrows and sips her cup of coffee.

“This is messy.”

“Ava, stop–” Janine softly intervenes but Melissa shakes her head.

“No, she’s right. It’s my mess to fix.” She gazes at the empty spot you left, wanting nothing more but to stop you from leaving.

“Are we going to have to play matchmaker?” Ava excitedly whispers to Gregory, who places a hand over her shoulder.

“Looks like it. Or maybe this is something for them to fix themselves.”

“You’re going to have to tell us everything. If you want to, of course. No judgments here.” Ava speakers earnestly, though her voice is edged with curiosity.

“I think this is something for me to talk about later. See you after class.” Melissa smiles at the group one last time, nearly breaking into a grin when Barbara offers her a thumbs up.

She already screwed up once. She wasn’t about to let you go again. Even if you decide to let her go, she has to let you know what she had to say from the beginning. What she wanted to say.

[silentscrying]

🏀 buzzer beater | chapter FIVE.

nba!gojo x manager!reader

summary: you thought you'd gotten rid of arrogant NBA star satoru gojo when he left the curses after your first year in basketball management. but when your contract is up three years later, you find yourself working with him once again as the manager for the sorcerers. as you navigate playoff season alongside long-time friend ieiri shoko and the sorcerers' insufferable star player, you start to realize his sudden departure from the curses may not have been what it seemed, and maybe gojo isn't exactly the person (or player) you thought he was, either.

warnings: language, minor injury, mentions of smoking, obscene amounts of pen-twirling and cryptic conversation. || sfw. 3.3k words. reminder that characters are aged up (bc tiny high schoolers ain't playin' in the NBA in any universe) and megumi & yuji & co. are only a few years younger than gojo.

FUSHIGURO’S PRESS SCHEDULE is wiped for the rest of the Phantoms series before you even get back to the hotel, and you and Nobara have mediated press releases and fielded questions about his condition—and Gojo and Hanami—back and forth for hours. Fushiguro will be out game four, but he’ll be fine, and Gojo has not been suspended from upcoming games. According to Nobara, Twitter is relieved to hear it.

The internet’s also blowing up over Gojo and Hanami’s almost-fight. You scrolled through Twitter for all of five seconds before someone said something along the lines of satoru gojo grab me by the shirt like that fr and you considered deleting the app entirely.

You’re trying to forget about the whole thing, or at least be pissed at Gojo, but there’s a part of you that can’t help but fixate on how protective he was of Megumi. It’s not like Gojo didn’t know the consequences of getting into a fight. Was it just that his need to put Hanami in his place, to stand up for Megumi, outweighed the threat of suspension?

Not wanting to keep Ieiri up (not that she’s sleeping, but on the off chance that her insomnia isn’t raging tonight, you aren’t looking to ruin it), you make yourself at home in the floor lounge area to finish your work for the night. You wrap up the Nike contract and send it over to the rep.

You waste the rest of the night away with the usual post-game rituals of paperwork and emails and calls, and only when you’ve closed your laptop and are about to head back to the room does Gojo poke his head into the common room.

“Hey,” he says, and it feels weirdly simple.

“Hey?”

Gojo takes this as an invitation, dropping into the chair on the opposite side of the table, boneless with the day’s exhaustion. He’s got a nondescript Nike tee and a pair of gray sweats on, and he’s ditched the headband so his white hair is falling haywire over his eyes.

For a second he says nothing, and then he glances at the pen on your notepad and picks it up, twirling it between two fingers. You roll your eyes.

“What’s up, Six?”

“I wanted to thank you for taking care of the Nike contract. And Fushiguro’s press schedule.” He clears his throat, like there’s something else he wants to say, and you wait him out. Without meeting your eyes, he says, “And I’m sorry for losing it on the court today. I know that, uh. Makes things harder for you. And Kugisaki.”

You freeze. It’s an unexpected gratitude. You’re starting to find that the apology, though, isn’t so unexpected. He’s been doing an awful lot of apologizing lately. It’s honestly stopped taking you so off guard. “Uh. Yeah, no problem. Just doing my job.”

“You’re good at it,” he says, pointing your pen at you. “Your job.”

“Thanks.” You laugh a little. “How’s he doing?”

Gojo hums absentmindedly and tosses the pen into the air, catching it with his other hand and resuming twirling it between his fingers. “Better, I think,” he says. “He’s with Yuji. Sleeping. Freaked him out a little, I think.”

Bits of your conversation from the locker room flash through your mind. Gojo’s hesitation, his anger, the questions upon questions building up in the back of your throat, the buzzer interrupting whatever answer you might have received.

“You’ve been… a little off, lately.” You bite your lower lip, debating whether to broach the topic. But his too-bright eyes are already trained on you, inquisitive, and the words are leaving your mouth before you know you’re saying them. “I mean, is it just playoffs? Or is there something else going on?”

He opens his mouth, closes it. You don’t often see Gojo speechless.

“It’s—ah, didn’t mean to worry you, Miss Manager.” He grins, covering up whatever emotion he was about to display with charm, that typical Gojo arrogance.

“Gojo.”

“You don’t have to call me that, you know.” You just look at him, waiting out the deflection. He sighs. Drops the pen back onto the notepad. Taps his fingers on the arm of the chair.

“It’s just San Diego,” he confesses after a moment. “I mean, you know. And Yaga doesn’t want us thinking that far ahead, but I can't help it. I just have this gut feeling they're making it to championships. So if we're really gonna win this thing, it's going to be us against them.”

“Not too late for Manhattan to whoop your ass,” you say, but you’re not serious and he knows it. He cocks a brow and snorts. “What is it about the Curses? Just that they know the way you play? That you’re on bad terms?”

Gojo grimaces. “It’s not necessarily that we parted ways on a bad note. More that Geto’s gonna do some weird psychological shit to trip me out, me and Gu—uh, Fushiguro.”

“Fushiguro.” You tilt your head, examining, searching, and decide to push it just a little. “Earlier, in the locker room—what were you going to say?”

The silence isn’t uncomfortable, but it’s long as Gojo searches for the right words, one hand tapping an anxious rhythm on the tabletop. You flick the pen so that it rolls off the notepad, stopping in front of him. Chuckling, he picks it up and resumes using it to occupy his hands. “You were right. That we didn’t play together in college. I, uh, actually met Megumi before he was in college. He was… like, the best point guard I’d ever fuckin’ seen. Recruited all over the place.” He sighs. “Not by our university, though. Probably—for the best.”

There’s a lot to this story, to this history. You know it the way you know Ieiri’s smoking out the hotel window right now—unseen, but inarguable, and not yours to comment on.

You’ll take what he can give you, for now.

“I was on a scouting trip when I met him. The trip was actually for the other team, but I’d never seen a point guard like that.”

Fair enough. Megumi is genuinely one of the best players you’ve ever seen.

“And I asked him about going D1, and he said he couldn’t.”

Couldn’t. What possible reason could he have behind that? Did he not think he was good enough? “But he did go D1,” you prompt.

“I… guess I kind of did him a favor?”

“What does that—”

“It’s not that I don’t want to tell you,” Gojo blurts, like he wants to talk you down before you can accuse him of something. “It’s just that it’s not my thing to tell, you know what I mean?”

You sigh. “Yeah. I do.”

He drags a hand across his eyes. “I got closer to him than I meant to. Him and his sister, actually. Her name’s Tsumiki.” He smiles softly. “The sweetest girl. And we kept in touch throughout his college career. And then he was drafted here.” He shifts in his chair. “And I was traded here.”

Megumi told you himself that’s not the full story. And you were there when Gojo broke things off with the Curses. It wasn’t some simple trade. But you don’t push. He’s already told you more than you anticipated. You feel like you’re on the cusp of some revelation, some conclusion, but you don’t have all the pieces and you know Gojo won’t—can’t—give them to you.

“I think he feels like he owes me,” Gojo confesses quietly, staring at nothing. “Even though I always tell him he doesn’t owe me shit.” His admission is soft, almost like he doesn’t realize you’re listening.

His gaze snaps back to you.

“It sounds kinda stupid, and I know they’re not that much younger than I am, but they’re like… I don’t know. Family. So when Geto pulled that stupid shit with the Curses, I just—” He drags a palm down his face. “Sorry. I know they were your team too. I don’t mean to… like, try and put ideas in your head about them. It’s fine, seriously.”

Another sorry. You study him for a long moment, him looking more out of his element than you’ve maybe ever seen him, aside from that day with Geto. “Is that why you haven’t told me?” He looks down. “You didn’t want to influence my feelings about the Curses?”

It’s actually such an absurd, but weirdly considerate, line of thinking that you scoff out loud. “You know I left them, right? Same as you.”

“Your contract was up.”

“Gojo, I hated it there,” you say, surprising yourself with your own candor. “They were assholes. It was…” You trail off, wondering whether you should admit it. That it was worse when Gojo left.

You shrug. “This team is better than I could’ve hoped for.” You grin. “But I did not follow you here.”

“Oh, sure you didn’t,” he teases, and whatever unease sat in the air between you before melts away.

He throws the pen up in the air again, and this time it arcs forward. Your hand shoots out to catch it at the same time as his, and you suddenly find yourself staring at Gojo’s hand wrapped around yours, the pen tight in your fist. His hand almost entirely encompasses your own, and his grip is loose enough that you could shake it off if you want to.

He’s warm.

You’re about to say something when you look at his forearm, and realize that the skin has turned a mottled yellow. Before you know what you’re doing, you’re wrenching your hand out of his and grabbing him by the arm, pulling him closer to you, examining the rapidly darkening bruise.

“Did Hanami do this?” And you’re surprised by how angry it makes you. “Jesus, Gojo.”

“It’s fine,” he says softly, and he doesn’t try to pull away. You meet his gaze, strands of white falling into his eyes.

“It’s not.”

Time feels suspended around you, the heat of Gojo’s bruising skin on your palm, his eyes locked onto yours like there’s something worth reading there. You clear your throat. “You’ll just have to kick his fucking ass, then.” You let go of his arm, watch as he pulls it back to his side, drops the pen on the table.

“Guess so.”

“Rest up, Six. Phantoms won’t beat themselves.”

“Won’t they?” Gojo chuckles and rises from the seat, tapping the table in a farewell before taking his leave.

“Gojo?” He stops in his tracks, tilts his head like a confused puppy. It’s almost endearing. “Thanks,” you say. “For telling me, I mean.”

He grins, a surprised little smile. “Thanks for listening.”

When he’s gone, you stare at the place he was sitting, the pen he was twirling in his fingers. Thinking about the person you thought he was, the person he might be.

You’re so goddamn confused.

—

Hanami is starting for the Phantoms. That’s their first mistake.

You’ve seen your team pretty divided on a breadth of issues, from which pizza joint to eat at last night to political stances to play strategies. But the one thing they’re unanimous on is that nobody can hurt Megumi Fushiguro and get away with it.

Toge starts in Megumi’s place, which means Ino subs out pretty quickly so that Toge and Yuta are on the court together. But Ino doesn’t seem to mind, leaning in as he swaps out with Yuta to tell you, “I think they might kill Hanami by the end of the half.”

You should probably oppose murder as a general moral standard, but at the moment you kind of just want to see him get absolutely decimated.

There are a number of players you really haven’t seen angry before, Toge most of all—he’s not a vengeful person, not petty, but now he’s playing like Hanami has always been his rival, like he wants to drive him into the court and kick him while he’s down.

Gojo stays on Hanami’s heels like his giant, leering shadow. He’s making comments out of the corner of his mouth, and you don’t even want to imagine what kind of shit he’s saying. Hanami can barely move around on the court, let alone get a shot in, and you can see his frustration building.

Eventually he gets fed up and shoves his shoulder into Gojo’s chest to get past him with the ball, and the ref fouls him. Gojo grins for the entire duration of the free throw, practically dancing to his place on the court.

You’re trying to hide your grin, and by the look Nobara’s giving you, it’s not working.

She texts faster than anyone you’ve ever seen. Apparently she’s keeping Megumi up to date, because Yuji made him stay at the hotel and said if he turned on the TV with a concussion he’d sing “the concrete jungle wet dream tomato song” the whole flight home.

“Are you doing this in a group chat?” you ask, leaning over her screen. It’s called fushiguNO, and you laugh at loud as you realize it’s only Nobara, Yuji, and Megumi.

“It’s mostly me and Yuji. Fushiguro just lurks and dislikes every text with his name in it,” she says.

Over the course of the first quarter, your guys whoop Hanami’s ass. They’re pulling every trick in the book to make his life hell without getting called. It only works sometimes—Yaga has to tell them to cut back when they start running up fouls, especially Gojo, though there’s really no heat behind his voice. It’s just a practical matter. He wants to see Hanami get his ass beat just as much as the rest of them.

After halftime, the Phantoms coach pulls Hanami and doesn’t put him back on. It feels like even more of a victory than the 79-56 score.

As third quarter starts, most of the usual starters aren’t even on the court—they’re toying with the Phantoms. Kusakabe lets Junpei on the floor for more time than he’s ever gotten. You catch a few Phantoms fans slipping out early. There’s no coming back from this.

Gojo probably hasn’t had this little playing time in years, but he doesn’t seem to mind, at least as long as Hanami’s off the court. The point deficit has gotten so insane he could take a nap on the floor and it wouldn’t matter.

Anyway, the Sorcerers fucking sweep.

They win against Manhattan, four games in a row, and just like that the first round is over. It’s hardly a competition. You watch the Phantoms fans file out of the stadium dejected, their home team knocked out of the playoffs before they could really get going.

Ino grabs you by the arm and tugs you into a sweaty team huddle, a few of the other guys doing the same to Nobara and a very reluctant Ieiri. “Semis!” Hakari shouts, and the rest of the team echoes it, jumping around and putting each other in headlocks and being all-around obnoxious boys. Yuta hugs you and you smile, and then Nobara has Megumi on a video call, and then Yaga herds the team out of the gym with a barely-repressed smile.

“Baltimore!” Gojo hollers, coming to walk alongside you. “Gojo City. What do you think of that, Alley-oop?”

“Charm City,” you correct.

“That’s what I said.” He winks.

You roll your eyes. “I think I’m glad we have a fucking week before we have to fly back up to New England,” you say, but you can’t help grinning back at him. The week will be full of practices and film studies for the team, but you’ll at least have a bit more free time once everything is set up with Baltimore. You might even make it a whole day without seeing Satoru.

Oh, shit.

Shit.

When did you start thinking of him on a first-name basis?

“We swept specifically so you could have some free time,” he lies, and you chuckle.

“Giving yourself an awful lot of credit there.”

“That’s what he does best,” Kento drawls from Gojo’s other side, and then Ieiri catches up to you and shoos the boys off.

“Get your asses changed and out the door,” you call after the guys. “We have a flight to catch!”

The team disappears into the locker room, and you, Ieiri, and Nobara catch a cab back to the hotel. You settle the bill, make sure everyone’s luggage is accounted for, and find yourself doing a headcount on the team jet within two hours—an impressive turnaround, by their standards.

You throw Yaga a thumbs-up and head to your seat beside Ieiri, tugging your laptop from your bag to work on the short flight home.

You do not envy anyone who has to fly with a concussion.

Megumi spends most of the flight home with his face tucked into Yuji’s shoulder, headphones on and nose scrunched against the air pressure, and Yuji doesn’t stop rubbing reassuring circles on his shoulder the entire time. Yeah, you’re pretty fucking sure there’s something going on there.

Beside you, Ieiri is way too invested in a sudoku puzzle while you work furiously on your laptop, scribbling notes in the margins of your planner and reading up on the Wolverines.

After an hour or so, Ieiri gets up to go to the bathroom. You’re considering sprawling yourself over her vacant seat when Gojo slides into it instead.

“Well, excuse you.” You close your laptop before he gets any ideas about messing with your work, turning to him expectantly. “What?”

He sticks his bottom lip out in a pout. ���I can’t spend time with my super lonely manager?”

“Ieiri left two seconds ago.”

“A long time to be in solitary confinement,” he says solemnly, leaning back and making himself at home in Ieiri’s seat. “Whatcha doin’?”

“I was working, until someone decided he needed attention.”

“Working on what?”

Resigned to the conversation, you maneuver yourself so you’re leaning against the window, one foot up on your seat. “Stuff for Baltimore.”

“Ah. Don't even worry about Baltimore. Non-issue. We'll win."

"So humble," you mutter. You glance at the printed bracket clipped into your planner, noting how the rest of the Eastern Conference is shaping up. "Well, they're higher seeded than you. Watch yourself."

Gojo waves his hand like this is irrelevant. "We got 'em. And then we'll play the Samurai, and it'll be great."

You do really want to play the Savannah Samurai. They've already won three games in their own series. Technically, you won't know if they sweep until tonight, but there's really no world in which they lose to the eighth seed. You played with their manager in college, Ieiri's friends with their trainer, and there are a bunch of connections among the players, too—trades, college teammates, even family ties.

"Hey, you know how Itadori’s half-brother plays for Savannah?” You nod. “Well. According to Yuji, he says their trainer is very not thrilled about the possibility seeing me again. Which is absurd, I think. I am an angel walking God’s green earth.”

“You’re annoying.”

“And so charming.” He nods, like you’re the one who said it and he’s just agreeing. “Just giving you a heads up that Utahime hates me. So you can defend my honor in the conference finals.”

“Bold of you to assume we don’t have a secret Anti-Gojo society already.” You’re well aware Iori Utahime isn’t Gojo’s biggest fan. You know they went to high school together, and you’re honestly just impressed she hasn’t killed him yet.

Gojo gasps. “You wouldn’t.”

“She would,” Ieiri says, standing beside Gojo with arms crossed and brows raised. “I don’t recall inviting you.” She glances over Gojo’s head at you. “Do you?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Shokooo,” Gojo protests, but she jerks a thumb over her shoulder and he sighs dramatically and vacates her seat. He grins at you. “Don’t miss me too much.”

You scoff as he retreats back to his own seat, probably to bother Kento. Ieiri sits down beside you and gives you a weird look.

“What?”

She just smirks and goes back to her sudoku.

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@shutuppeter @mikikkoo @reactwithjan

[doe-writes-stuff]

A/N - My first foray into the wonderful world of Matthew 'Manwhore' Murdock. Thank you in advance for giving my stuff a try if you do happen to continue on!

CONTENT WARNINGS: Strong language

You didn't think walking home from your terrible date would lead to you defending an unconscious vigilante from a couple of teens with too much curiosity for their own good, but...well, this was Hell's Kitchen. What else did you expect?

I should have worn my goddamn sneakers.

Hollow clicks measured your path along the pavement. Sharp, determined steps. No matter how many times you tried adjusting your feet in the 3 inch open-toed heels adorning them, the pain wouldn't go away. Serves you right for not breaking them in for a few days before your date. Now, with no ride back home and a reluctance to waste money on a cab when you could simply walk the 5 blocks it would take to get you there—cabbies were charging out the ass nowadays—you were cursed to suffer the consequences of your lack of forethought.

Not a great place to be at two in the fucking morning.

The alternative of removing them entirely and going nearly barefoot across the sidewalk wasn't all that appealing. For one, your pantyhose would be swiftly ruined. Not to mention the possibility of stepping directly onto a used heroin needle or the uneaten remains of someone's discarded dinner along the way. No thanks. You'd risk the bastard of a blister and not even complain about it in the morning.

Not too much, at least.

Skipping your short cocktail dress in favor of something a bit more conservative saved you from the awkward form-fitted waddle it would have forced you into. The strappy little piece would have been wasted anyway on the lackadaisical, stoner thrift shop owner who'd shared a few drinks with you at the bar only a few minutes prior. Something told you it still wouldn't have kept his eyes from wandering to your red-headed, busty bartender countless times over the course of the night.

"Expectations weren't high to begin with." You remind yourself in a mutter, adjusting the purse strap a bit higher up on your shoulder, crossing another street and doing a routine sweep around to look out for any cars or people in your general vicinity. You coughed against the faint stench of stale cooking oil and car exhaust that always seemed to permeate this street corner.

Wincing past the pain radiating from the back of your heel, you take notice of a few boys who'd jay-walked over the street to now be several dozen feet in front of you, heading the same direction. They talked amongst themselves, their conversation too far or too quiet for you to hear. Hands in their pockets, they looked around frequently. Suspicious.

Teenagers, judging by their fashion choices. Likely out and about looking for trouble after sneaking out of the house. Despite the likelihood they weren't out for the most innocent of reasons, they weren't much of a concern. Nothing indicated they'd noticed you or, if they had, even cared about your presence. Still, should they decide to turn around and make your night a little too interesting, you figured your heels could be good for one thing: swinging with reckless abandon with their pointy ends facing them. If the threat of your heels didn't convince them to leave you alone, the can of pepper spray in your bag should be more effective.

But as luck would have it, they held no interest in you whatsoever. In fact, something turned the boys' heads towards an alley as they passed by up ahead. So much so, in fact, that they stopped completely and stared at whatever it is they saw, pointing and gesturing frantically. A frown wrinkled your face as they briefly conversed, before hurrying out of sight into the alley.

Just keep on walking, I really don't need this tonight, you thought bitterly, hoping despite all logic that they weren't about to commit a crime or do something equally nefarious that would require intervention. Home was only a few more blocks away, so close and yet just out of your grasp.

Curiosity begrudgingly gets the better of you. And maybe you were being too hasty in assuming the worst out of these boys. Perhaps they'd just seen a cat and were stopping to help the poor thing. Wishful thinking, but hey, if you manifested hard enough, maybe God would grace you with some peace tonight.

However, any thoughts of peace flew out the window as you stepped past the edge of the warehouse beside the alley and glanced in the direction the boys had gone. Because despite the hazy darkness of the wee morning hours, the building's side door was brightly lit with a security light, the back of the alley awash in pale yellow as a result.

And within that sickly illumination, you saw a figure prone on the ground, surrounded by the two boys standing beside them, looking down.

Alarm rose through you at the sight. You hadn't heard a scuffle, or any cries of pain, or anything to remotely hint that they'd just assaulted this person, but honestly you didn't know what else to think. And despite knowing that calling the police would likely be the wisest choice for your health in this situation, you doubted they'd arrive in time to prevent this person from straight up getting mugged or hurt further.

Seconds ticked by. You weren't stupid enough to so casually dive into danger like this, but you liked to believe that someone would do the same if ever you found yourself in a similar position. Besides, it didn't sit right with you to let a couple teen punks give Hell's Kitchen a worse reputation than it already had. This was your home too, damnit.

Scrabbling in your purse for the can of pepper spray you'd purchased for self defense, you throw caution and self-preservation to the wind and hurry as fast as you can down the alley towards them. The nerves in your feet protest with as much negative feedback as you thought they could possibly inflict, but the seriousness of what you were seeing gave you the strength to ignore them for now.

The closer you get, the more you can identify, like the way one of them toes at the individual's leg with a few gentle kicks, as if testing their awareness. The other teen pulls his phone out and seemingly snaps a picture. Snippets of their conversation can now be heard.

"-dare you to do it."

"Shouldn't we call the cops?"

"Fuck no! If you're gonna a pussy, I'll do it." You caught one of them saying with a laugh, crouching down to reach for the person's face.

"Hey!" You call with as much authority as you can muster, finally gaining a grip on your mace and lifting it from your purse to point at them. Their heads whip around to face you. "Take a step back! You two think hurtin' people is funny or somethin'?"

"What? This wasn't us!" The one who'd crouched beside the unconscious man says, standing in a rush and holding up his hands defensively. He looked no older than 15, if you had to guess, face full of acne and the sad beginnings of what you thought was his attempt at growing facial hair.

"Chill, lady. He was like that when we found him, and he's passed out. Can't hurt us." The other leaps to defend, gesturing wildly at the person still laying prone on the ground. A man who, you now realize in alarm, is dressed exactly like a certain vigilante rumored to be hunting the streets of Hell's Kitchen. The adrenaline that fueled your little interruption was now backed by a wave of chilled awe and apprehension.

What had you just gotten yourself into?

Before the revelation of who you had stumbled upon could fully hit you in force, one of the teens steps away and continues babbling. "It's the fucking dude on the news."

"All the more reason to stay the hell away from him, then." You say, swallowing past the rising feeling of regret coursing through your head, unable to help catching glances at the man that felt more a myth than reality. "A couple of kids like you shouldn't be poking around people or places like that."

"He was just laying here, and we wanted to look. I mean, come on, no way you don't wanna know who he is, right? Everyone does." He seems to plead with you to agree with him, young face torn between his burning curiosity and the opening at the top of your mace can. "The guy's been all anyone ever talks about around here."

"He's knocked out, so he wouldn't even know. Just a peek, that's all." The other one adds, crouching next to him as if to reach for the mask again, but he just shakes his head and looks at you. "We were gonna call the cops after. Maybe there's a reward for catching the guy, you know?"

The boys smile in that charming way boys in high school think they are, but you find yourself taking a quick step forward, startling them enough to get them both on their feet and stepping away from the masked man.

"The only thing you're gonna do is go the fuck home. Now." The warning comes out through gritted teeth, irritation clearly showing through and doing what you'd hoped it would. It felt a little extreme to be threatening teenagers, but they'd seriously do something stupid if you didn't get your point across. "Or try something, and see what a face full of mace feels like. After that I'm getting the cops involved, and I'll bet explaining that one to your parents is gonna be a delight."

"Fuck, ok, relax." Acne face says in a rush, rounding you and stepping past his friend to go back the way they'd come. Hands still, up, he looks at you like you were the gum he'd just stepped in. "We'll leave. Damn."

Thankfully without any further convincing, the two boys head off towards the entrance of the alley, muttering what you thought to be 'crazy bitch' under their breaths and glancing back at you and the vigilante. Eyes on them until they disappeared around the corner, you let out the air from your lungs that had been held there too long, eyes closing as the moment passed.

And here I thought a shitty date was the worst thing that could happen tonight...

Once the light-headedness had mostly dissipated, you slowly look down at the infamous Man in the Black Mask just a few inches from your feet.

Being up-close to the guy that had been giving the criminals lurking in the shadows pause for weeks on end was a rather surreal experience. Things like this didn't happen to you. Never. Your life was boring and dull and now you were standing over the unconscious man and wondering what the fuck you were supposed to do next.

A momentary flicker of fear slid down your spine, recalling rumors of the guy's brutality. A few pictures of the criminals the cops had picked up off the streets after a run-in with the Man in the Black Mask had circulated the internet. They hadn't been pretty, to say the least. Your hand toyed with the can of pepper spray, debating.

For the supposed boogeyman in the darkness, he looked like...just a normal guy. There was distinct muscle tone under all that black fabric, but he was certainly no body builder. Nothing a bit of dedication at the gym wouldn't give someone. Rough stubble framed his chin and in the yellow glow of the security light, what looked to be dried blood stained a streak from his nose down to his lip. He'd been in a fight sometime tonight.

The suit looked homemade, you noticed. Curious, but...made sense. There wasn't exactly a retail store for vigilantes, yet somehow it struck you that this guy had essentially put on an athletic shirt with zero combat protection, tied a cotton mask to his face, and then proceeded to beat the bad guys up night after night. You'd seen nerds at conventions with more detailed fits than him.

How'd he even see out of that thing anyway?

He still hadn't moved in all this time. Perhaps you should have been more nervous of him suddenly waking up and attacking you, but something told you that he wouldn't. Blind hope, perhaps, but still, something.

Slowly, the fear lowered just enough for you to crouch and, after much debate with yourself if this was really the smartest thing to be doing, you placed a gentle hand against the man's chest. Warmth. A subtle rise and fall had you relieved that he was breathing, if not conscious. Alive.

The cops didn't like him, and as a law-abiding citizen, neither should you. Hell, there could be some law against helping a vigilante out in the first place. Aiding and abetting? Were you risking a charge by chasing off those teens?

Something didn't feel right about allowing his identity to be exposed. He was doing good for Hell's Kitchen. Your coworker's sister's fiancé was saved from getting mugged according to Kathy which, in all honesty, should be taken with a grain of salt. But on the off chance he was doing more help than hurt in your community, you didn't see a reason to make his life harder than it was already.

...did this make you an accomplice? Ugh.

A glance up at the alleyway where you'd come from reminded you that anyone else could walk by and see this guy just laying here in the light. And the next one might not be as harmless as a teen looking to satisfy their curiosity. You weren't sure how he'd come to be here in the first place, but surely he hadn't intended to pass out where just anyone could walk up and lift up the mask. The briefest idea to lift the mask yourself and see who he was disappeared almost as quickly as it had come. Clearly he wore one for his own safety or maybe just to intimidate the bad guys, and if what you knew about him was true, he was out here for the right reasons. The last thing you'd do was get in his way of helping.

Another glance around at the small alley reveals a darkened corner that was out of sight from the sidewalk. It wasn't too far, and you doubted you'd be able to do much more than drag him that distance anyway. With a resolute sigh, you put your pepper spray back in your purse and shift to grab both of his arms by the wrist, attempting to pull him out of the light towards the wall to lean him against.

The moment you try moving him, you realize you'd underestimated how much effort this was going to take. Especially in heels and a dress. A curse escapes under your breath.

"Jesus..." You huff out a breath, shifting your grip once more to better accommodate his dead weight.

Your feet, which had previously been in pain in your heels, were screaming at you with torturous malice. Another couple tugs gave little by way of results.

"Now would be a great time to wake up and help me out here. Teamwork makes the dream work or whatever..." Unfortunately, he remained silent and unconscious.

You rethought your whole idea the longer you continued to try dragging him over to the wall, feeling the couple drinks you'd had less than half an hour ago the more you exerted energy, but you had already gained a little ground. Only a few more yards to go.

Finally figuring out that you'd have more leverage by lifting him from beneath his armpits, you managed to reach under him and pull with much more ease that way.

"Maybe lay off the protein and pick a salad some time." You gripe through tight lips.

The sack of potatoes that was the Man in the Black Mask still gave you a ton of trouble, but at least you were gaining by several feet with each pull rather than inches. This position also gave you a nose-full of the smell of sweat, washed cotton, and the faintest hint of the guy's preferred cologne, you thought. Really not the best combination of aromas but, in all honesty, still better than your date's pungent musky scent that you were half-convinced he'd bathed in prior to meeting you.

With one last frustrated grunt, you manage to prop his back up against the wall, settling him into a semi-comfortable sitting position. You panted, out of breath, stepping back to examine him one last time, smoothing down your dress.

He seemed steady enough, and hopefully no one else would come down this way looking for anything. It was all you could do for him, especially given your feet would likely fall off or catch fire at the rate you were going in these heels. Hissing in pain, you step back and remembered there were still 2 more blocks to walk before you got home.

With one last look at the vigilante, you shook your head and sighed. "Just...don't get killed, ok? Hell's Kitchen is safer with you in it."

A subtle shift in his stature and a low groan at the back of his throat alerts you to his growing awareness. Without the adrenaline to keep you from enacting on your flight response at the impending awakening of the vigilante, you swear under your breath and get the hell out of the alley, hoping he was still too out of it to notice your swift departure.

With any luck, he'd be too disoriented to figure out what had happened. Heels clicking in a mad fury down the sidewalk, you forced the man in the mask out of your mind with great effort, already calculating the number of painkillers you'd have to take to be able to walk tomorrow.

Flickers of awareness. Not enough to fully rouse him at the time, but a small iota of stimulus enough for Matt to remember once he awakened. As he roused, his back propped up against the roughness of brick and the tell-tale alleyway stench of trash and rust filling his nose, he couldn't help but mull over what he could recall.

A woman's sharp voice. Sensations of movement around and above him. Something had touched him. And again, a woman's voice, this time fainter and quiet, but close.

Don't get killed, ok?

It was difficult to tell what he'd truly heard and what was his mind conjuring what it wanted to.

Ignoring the many aches and pain in his body as he stood from his seat against the wall, Matt noticed more and more things seemingly out of place. Two similar male scents. The subtlest hint of sharp spice in the air—pepper spray. Not strong enough to have been used, but at least present nearby.

Coming back to his senses was quick, though not as fast as he would have liked. By morning, the taste of brewing coffee was so strong in the air of Hell's Kitchen that there was nowhere he could go to avoid it. The blatant lack of it, coupled with the low foot-traffic on the sidewalk around the corner meant he hadn't been out for long. It was still early, before the rest of the city awakened in full force. A small relief.

Speaking of foot-traffic...one set of steps was growing more distance with a noticeable haste—clicking of cheap, hardened rubber. Heels, probably. A woman?

Sweetness clung to him. Another soft inhale brought the scent of perfume into his nostrils, a mix of citrus and floral. It clung to his clothing pleasantly. His head tilted, putting together what he knew and the vague words that he thought he recalled.

Almost out of reflex, he lifted a hand to his make-shift mask, feeling that it was in the same place he'd left it before. Nothing felt out of place, nor as if it had been removed and replaced by someone else. To his knowledge, his identity hadn't been compromised. Still, that left him with many questions.

He couldn't recall losing consciousness in the position he'd awakened in. You...you'd moved him over to the wall? Defended him, perhaps, if the clues were adding up like he thought they were.

The sound of your retreat was still audible from this distance, his anonymous protector no doubt hurrying home. Beneath the mask, Matt's brow raised with interest.

Who were you?

A/N -I guess I'm just testing the waters of Matt's characterization with this one and seeing how I wanna play with this world. If you'd like to see more, please let me know <3

[ghuleh-witch]

Make You Sing

Fandom: Ghost Rating: Explict Warnings: NSFW, 18+, unprotected sex, p in v sex, exhibitionism (kinda), confessional sex Relationships: Papa Emeritus IV/Copia x Female!Reader Characters: Papa Emeritus IV, Female!Reader, unnamed Sibling of Sin Additional Tags: no use of y/n, soft!dom Copia Words: 1121 Summary: Between your busy schedules, you and Copia make time to see each other, but that time is interrupted when a Sibling of Sin steps into the confessional.

Ao3

Your nails were digging into the wooden back of the chair as your head was pulled back, making your back arch. “Fuck,” you moaned loudly as Copia held a fistful of your hair. “Papa.”

“As much as I love those sweet noises, you need to keep it down, dolcezza,” Copia replied as he pounded into you. The hand that wasn’t pulling your hair was gripping your hip, pulling your hips back onto his cock. “Don’t want anyone to hear us, si?”

You and Copia hadn’t had a lot of time to spend together lately. Between his duties as Papa and preparing for a tour and your own work in the ministry, your time together was stretched thin forcing you to find little moments of free time throughout the day to spend together. Tonight Copia was holding confession, and as soon as the last person in line left, you came out of your hiding spot in the shadows and stepped into his side of the booth. It was late and Copia’s window for confession would be ending soon. No one else would be stopping in to confess their sins. 

When his hand came around to touch your clit, you all but whimpered in need. “Let them hear,” you breathed, your mouth falling open in a silent moan as his fingers teased your clit. His hand let go of your hair and pulled you closer to him. “I–aaaaah—want them to know you’re ruining me.”

“Ragazza birichina,” he purred in your ear. He pressed a kiss to your neck as his thrusts slowed to a torturous speed. 

“So close,” you panted softly as his lips peppered your neck with kisses and gentle nips. You teetered on the edge of your climax and were just about to shatter when the sound of heels could be heard approaching the confessional. 

You both froze upon hearing the door to the other side of the booth open and close and someone sitting down in the chair on the other side of the wall. The mesh between the booths was thick enough that the sibling couldn’t see either of you and you couldn’t see the sibling.

“Bless me, Papa, for I have sinned. It has been fourteen days since my last confession,” came the voice of one of one of your fellow siblings. “I have lusted, I was greedy, and I was envious.” 

One of Copia’s gloved hands came up to your mouth and covered it as he slowly pushed into you, careful to not make the chair you were balanced on creak. You felt his lips quirk upward into a smirk and knew he was turning this into a game. 

“For these sins, I am not sorry,” the sibling finished. 

Copia wasted no time stepping back into his role as Papa despite his cock buried deep inside of you. “Did you feel guilt while you were experiencing these sins?” Copia asked, keeping his voice level and neutral as he usually did in confession. A hand came and rested on your hip, keeping you still on his cock. He knew it would make you squirm. 

“A little,” the sibling confessed. “When I was lusting after my married friend…I want her so badly, but she’s happily married. I can’t help it though. I’m so jealous that her partner gets to have her every day and night and I just want her all to myself. I know they’re both polyamorous, but I still feel wrong for trying to come between them. I just…I don’t know…I don’t want to feel guilt for having the feelings I do and I don’t know what to do about this whole situation.”

“All those feelings you have a valid,” Copia said as he thrust deep into you again. You wanted to whimper into his hand but fought to keep silent. “There is nothing wrong with feeling guilt either. You are human and being human is complex and confusing.”

There was a sigh from the other side of the dark mesh screen. “What should I do, Papa?”

“Have you talked to your friend? Communication is key, after all.  It does not do to bottle up all these feelings.” Copia said, as the hand that wasn’t covering your mouth moved from your hip to your front and then between your legs. He dragged a single finger up your slit before stopping at your clit. You couldn’t help but tremble as you fought back any noise that was threatening to escape. 

“I’m afraid that if I tell her I’ll ruin my friendship,” the sibling said. “Even though I have a feeling maybe she feels the same for me too…”

“Perhaps it would be best to bring up your feelings to your friend and talk it through with her. You will never know if she feels the same or not if it’s never discussed. Don’t live with the regret of never knowing,” Copia responded as his fingers teased your clit.

“You’re right,” the sibling said. “I should talk to her. The worst that can happen is that my feelings aren’t returned and she’s not interested, right?”

“Right. And if she is truly your friend, your friendship won’t be ruined. Sure things might be, eh, awkward for a bit but you two will work through it.” He thrust into you slowly again and this time, the feeling was too intense. A muffled moan sounded against the leather of his glove and Copia quickly started to fake cough to cover up the sound.

“Are you okay, Papa?” The sibling asked.

“Mi dispiace. I seem to be coming down with a cold,” Copia lied, his fingers putting pressure on your clit as though in punishment. “Speak to your friend and discuss how you feel. Life is too short to be left wanting and wondering.”

“Thank you, Papa,” the sibling replied, their chair scrapping on the floor as they stood.

“Go and sin freely,” Copia said, making the sign of the inverted cross to the mesh-covered window.

The door on the other side of the confessional opened and you could hear the sibling walking away. When all was silent again, Copia released his hand from your mouth and pressed his lips to the side of your neck.

“Couldn’t help yourself, could you?” He questioned, his teeth grazing your skin.

“Sorry,” you panted. “It just came out.” 

He hummed in response before the slow, agonizing pace of his thrusts turned punishing. “You’re lucky confession is over and you can be as loud as you want now,” he growled into your ear. “And I’m going to make you sing, cara.” 

And he did make you sing—your voice echoing off the rafters of the chapel as he brought you to orgasm.

Translations dolcezza-sweetness Ragazza birichina-naughty girl Mi dispiace-I'm sorry cara-dear/darling

[faneliansficaloh]

A Lifetime of Happiness

(Chapter 1) (Chapter 2) This is Chapter 3

---------

13 October, 1817

Dear Penelope,

I recommend living in a temperate climate near the ocean very much. There is nothing quite as restoring to one’s soul than a clear night sky filled with stars while the ocean regales us with its gentle, soothing song. The coming and going of the sea washes away worries, aches and sorrows and leaves nothing but peace in the mind. I became so entranced tonight that I lost track of time completely. It is past midnight now, but I needed to ensure I wouldn’t lose these words; I already feel them abandoning me as my mind succumbs to sleep.

15October

I have been meaning to complete this letter, for it seems a waste to send such a short paragraph across the world, only to satisfy the need I have for you to read it. But I have found that I am so satisfied with it that I have been afraid to ruin it with something much more prosaic. Surely this comes as no surprise to you, who knows so well how impatient I can be to share my sentiments.

Maybe one day I will finally start cultivating patience and restraint, but I must admit defeat now, as I am being called away for the second time since the previous sentence to resolve a dispute. I will let you know at a later time what this one was about, the one not five minutes ago was over an orange.

Yours, Colin.

P.S. They were fighting over a biscuit box. The box, not the biscuits.

1813 - The Duchess of Hastings ball

It would not do to have them simply attend the ball if the Featheringtons would be snubbed all evening, so it was clear that Benedict and Colin were following marching orders when they danced with them. Even the Duke himself had danced with Penelope, and Lady Danbury was spotted being friendly with Lady Featherington, which was nothing short of a miracle that could only be attributed to her love for the Bridgertons.

Penelope was now in the more familiar sidelines, watching the couples dance. Marina looked beautiful in her blue dress, as she danced with the Duke of Hastings. Madam DelaCroix was really a genius, for it was difficult to tell her advance state of pregnancy unless you knew to look for it and they could always admit to a pregnancy, not just one that had started much earlier than the couple’s marriage.

“Pen, good evening.” His greeting was soft and tentative.

“Good evening, Colin.” She wondered if she would ever stop feeling that rapid swell of emotion when he approached her, when he called her Pen with that affectionate, soft tone that she had fancied he reserved just for her.

“Phillipa looks very happy with Mr. Finch” He said, trying to start a conversation, as Penelope seemed immersed in thought. There had been no beaming smile greeting him, just a faint pull on the corners of her lips.

“They do seem to make a very good couple, don’t they?” She smiled softly as she assessed them.

This was a good topic, there was a smile. “I wouldn’t know. What makes you say so?”

“They both look very much at ease with each other and they both look happier when they’re together. See how he looks at her like every word out of her mouth is important? And she is equally receptive” She was genuinely happy for her sister.

He turned to look at the couple, as he had been looking at her speak “You are right, Mr. Finch looks very happy as well.” He paused for a bit as he reflected on it and then seemed to remember something “Should we dance, Pen?” He said dutifully, or at least she thought him to be fulfilling his Featherington dance quota.

“Oh, Colin it is not necessary” She shook her head slightly and averted her eyes to the floor after he had tried to look at her eyes directly.

“Are you refusing a dance with a gentleman?” He said playfully, but there was genuine surprise underneath.

Her smile seemed forced and she was not looking at him as she responded “Can we just say that I am tired?”

“Are you?” He started to fear there was something else causing her to refuse.

“I am tired” It was true, in a sense.

“Alright.” He stayed in place beside her and after considering it briefly he said “I’ve decided to follow your advice, Pen, about Marina.”

“Oh. I’m glad Colin, for the both of you” She made a very brief pause but could not find the will to continue the conversation. “Excuse me.” She walked away rather quickly, without giving him a chance to say anything else and did not stop until she reached the lemonade table and picked one up.

“Good evening, Miss Featherington!” Penelope was caught completely off guard by Lady Danbury. With all the attention she and her family were getting that evening, she had not been as observant as she usually was. She could feel Lady Danbury’s eyes appraising her “Tonight seems to be going perfectly, don’t you think?”

Amongst all the details of Colin’s “situation” that Lady Bridgerton had confided to her, Lady Danbury had been most stricken with the involvement of the younger Featherington girl. She had gone entirely against her own family to try to salvage the situation, and apparently the only reason why she delayed was an absurd faith that she would be able to convince her cousin to stop the scheme, it was an intriguing mixture of courage and naivete.

“Lady Danbury!” She curtsied, nervously “yes, it’s been a splendid evening!”

“You’re a very graceful dancer, I’m glad to see you’ve been on the dance floor repeatedly this evening”

“You flatter me, Lady Danbury. But the Bridgertons have all been very kind.”

“Nonsense, I am not to be accused of flattery, you should know better. But I will allow that this is your very first season out and you still have much to learn. You are very close to them, aren’t you? The Bridgertons I mean”

“Indeed, I am fortunate to be their friend, mostly through Miss Eloise”

“And you’re now more strongly connected to them, through Mr. Colin Bridgerton now that he’s married to your cousin, I assume” The raised eyebrow and the lopsided, expectant smile were not unnoticed by Penelope.

“I suppose it could appear so.” Penelope understood, perhaps better than her own mother, that the so-called connection was a feeble one. If anything she felt her friendship to the Bridgertons had been irremediably tarnished by it. Marina was not a favourite with any Bridgerton at the moment and she was not that close a relation of the Featheringtons at that, so even if she were in their good graces, the connection was not that strong. “Colin was actually the first of them that I met, by chance, so our friendship pre-dates our recent connection. I’ve known them all longer than I have Marina, in fact.” Penelope knew she must be careful. Lady Danbury was known for being astute and having a sharp edge. The old Lady gave her a through, assessing look.

“You are very different to your sisters, well to the rest of your family at large, Miss Featherington. It pleases me.” She found her response sensible and particularly had liked how the girl seemed to cherish the friendship more than any possible advantage at being connected to an important family, like her mother had.

“That is very direct!” She looked at Lady Danbury with a surprised but delighted smile.

“At my age I have no time for going around things, I simply say what I have to say. And you should take it as a compliment.”

“Oh, I absolutely do take it as a compliment. And I must say I admire your frankness. It must be so freeing to be able to speak one’s mind in public, without fear of causing offence or retribution.”

“Oh, make no mistake, words always have consequences, dear, it is learning what consequences you’re willing to accept for them that really frees you.”

“So you must first get to know yourself fully” Penelope said, more thinking out loud than continuing the conversation.

“Indeed. It is harder that you’d think, but I have had plenty of time to learn” She said with a boastful smile. “I shall leave you, I see some feathers that require some ruffling.”

Penelope decided that night would be a turning point. She needed to dust herself up, make adjustments in her thoughts, redirect her feelings and carry on. She looked at her mother and her sisters who seemed to be enjoying themselves without a care, it truly felt like things were moving in a better direction for her and everyone she loved. For the first time in what seemed a lifetime already, she allowed herself the thought that she could one day be truly happy after all this mess.

Later that night her hopeful optimism had increased after Eloise had unknowingly saved her from the Queen’s attempt to discover Whistledown’s author. It had given her hope, however unfunded it was, that her best friend might soon forgive her for having lied about the woman who was with child in her household, and for not coming forward earlier to prevent her brother’s entrapment. Eloise was unaware of the connection between Lady Whistledown and Penelope, of course, but optimism and hope are never the same as certainties, and as such, require no real justification beyond the feeling of them.

Then the rain started, warm but relentless, and brought with it the grim news of her father’s passing, washing away her optimism, which was instead replaced by pain and an uncertainty of the acutest kind.

Chapter 4

[bunnyluvs-blog]

The 1 (Bangchan x reader)

Heavy angst ‼️‼️ lots of tears, asshole! Bangchan

I made this bc of my own relationship issues so I know it's a lil iffy but please enjoy

Hurt. Tears. A shadow. Thats what you were reduced to at this point. Your boyfriend Bangchan whos a one of a kind idol, who used to come home every night, kiss you good morning, play with your hair when you were having a bad day. The one who always took such good care of you. The one who you truly thought could never hurt you. He promised he would never hurt you. So why were you a mess, on the couch of your shared apartment. Most nights you wouldn't even stay up to wait for Bangchan to come home. You knew his job was hard but now these days it seemed loving you was twice as hard. You just sat there the clock reaching 4am. No call no text no nothing from him all day. You sent him good morning text and all you would get was read popped up under your text. You weren't even worth responding too. You couldn't stop the tears from falling at this point. You tried so hard to defend him to yourself. That he has a life outside of you but at this point you werent in his life at all.

You passed out on a couch. Now it was 9am, your body didn't really let you sleep after your tear fest last night. You looked around the apartment. A cup next to the sink, the bed sheets messed up, and his clothes in a corner of the bedroom. He was home. And he didn't even notice you were gone. He didn't miss your warmth or cuddles or light kisses on his face. He didn't miss you like you had so badly missed him. You couldn't ruin yourself anymore, you couldn't do this, all the restless nights hoping he's eating and taking care of himself. And he couldn't even care if you were home or not. You had given 2 whole years of your life to this man, what a waste. You text him a whole essay on how you felt ending it with the words "Lets break up" and you sent it. You were shaking. Even if you wanted what was best for you you still loved him. He wasn't a bad man but he just wasn't your man anymore. You tried everything you could to get your mind off of it. Putting your phone on do not disturb and mindlessly watching stranger things all the way through.

You've set up your bed for the night on the couch and your stuffed animals to keep you semi happy. That's when he came home. The man who didn't even check his phone today. The one who didn't even read your message of you pouring your heart out. "Hey babe, w-whats all of this? It isn't movie night is it?" He says, confused. The first words you've gotten in weeks, real words, not an im sorry or I love you or something fucking cheesy like all your friends tell you their boyfriends do. "Oh I'm just sleeping out here tonight until I can find a place to move too.." you said, Chan raised an eyebrow. "Move too? What are you talking about" It hit you, it hit you like a fucking brick. He didn't even check his phone. "Check your phone" that's all you said before you put on some shoes, grabbed your phone and wallet and left. He didn't even go after you. Not that you were expecting him to but a small bit of you hoped he did. You just walked. Your normal route you did when you wanted some air in the middle of the day. The world looks so different at night. You've never really seen it before before now. Nights became a blur, maybe you could learn to like them more.

You heard panting along with your name, it was Chan. A baseball cap, black shirt, and sweats. "Y/n love please i head no idea you were feeling this way" he panted trying to catch his breath. "Look this comeback has just been twice as hard as anything else we've done and they're just asking more of me and I know that isn't an excuse but I would never truly try to ignore you, i love you baby I really do, please dont leave me I can't live without you, i know I'm a shitty boyfriend and I know I'm not giving you what you need but please, let me change, for us" he was begging, pleading. He wanted to change, and if people set their mind to something they can do anything right? Truth is you really didn't want to let him go. "Promise to never hurt me again..?" You asked, voice shaky, your holding back your own tears from falling. He nodded and let out a soft please before you hugged him, just sobbing into his shirt. He took you home and tucked you into bed after a shower and some medicine from the headache you got after sobbing.

It's been 2 months since then. And things have been going ok..ish. Things were perfect for a month. Until he fell back into the same habit. With no comeback to plan for at the moment you couldn't help but be confused on why this was happening again. You prayed and prayed that he would change and pull though, and you really though tonight would be the night. It was your 3 year anniversary. You couldn't be more excited. You got a new black dress and pretty earring that he bought you for your birthday a year ago. You guys had dinner planned at a restaurant you both wanted to try. Dinner was at 8 and you were ready at 6:30. You felt so pretty. You knew you were pretty. You walked into the restaurant around 7:30. You watching the couples smile and enjoy eachother before the staff sat you. You waited for a bit then until 8 hit the clock. You played with the end of your dress. You ordered a semi cheap wine for you and Chan. 30 minutes, 1 hour, 2 hours, 2 hours and 30 minutes later you gave up.

You called an Uber to take you home, walking up the steps to your apartment. Opening the door, putting down your keys and kicking off your heels. You hear the tv on and your heart drops. He was home. You looked around to see if there was any sign of a happy anniversary or a gift or something that would make you feel like he still cared. He must have heard the keys and a few sniffles because he was facing you. "Oh hi honey? Woah hey why are you crying? Where have you been? What happened" he got up walking over to you trying to give you a hug when you moved away from him. He looked at you confused. "Do you even know what day it is today Chris?" He pulled out his phone to see June 28th. The same date you two made it official. Oh how everything seemed so perfect back then. You could remember it like yesterday. Small talk, the big question, the giggles and cuddles, how happy you felt. It was all gone now.

"Love I promise I just forgot I'm sorry I'm such an idiot" he said grabbing your hands. Looking at you with those big brown eyes, how you could get lost in them. "It wont happen again" that's when you broke, you were tired of giving him chances to redeem himself. "Your right it won't, because we're over" He froze, mouth slightly opened "You clearly dont care about me anymore Chris and I can't go on pretending like you do to make myself feel better" You sighed and walked past hime, going to pack a bag. "Wait wait hun lets talk about this" he said going after you. "We have, we have at least every 6 months and nothing changes, im tired of being last place in your heart" you angrily said shoving whatever you felt was right into your bag. "I wish I was what you wanted" you said before leaving. You couldn't face him. You didnt want you. You know yourself better then this. You knew if your friend was dating someone like Chris you would tell them to break up and they can do so much better. It was time for you to do better for yourself for once.

[ofaflower]

𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐄 (𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍) - 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐄́

The following are lyric based starters from Rosé's debut full length studio album, rosie. Mature subjects implied within, so please use with caution. Feel free to change pronoun usage as needed. Minor edits may appear to sound more natural for dialogue.

NUMBER ONE GIRL.

tell me that i'm special

tell me i look pretty

say what i'm dying to hear

i'm dying to hear you

tell me that i'm relevant

tell me that i got a big heart, and back it up with evidence

i need it and i don't know why

isn't it lonely?

i'd do anything to make you want me

i'd give it all up if you told me that i'd be the number one girl in your eyes

so, what's it going to take for you to want me?

i'm going real big places

even through all the phases, tell me you'd accept me

i'm dying to hear you tell me that you need me

tell me that i'm loved

tell me that i'm worth it and that i'm enough

3 AM.

i just saw a red flag, gonna pretend i didn't see that

is it really, really that bad that i need you really, really that bad?

so, can we keep this story rolling?

nothing's really perfect like that

i just want it to be you when it's three a.m. and i'm losing myself in my mind again

the world can roll it's eyes but it's no use cause i want it to be you

even when i'm putting you through hell, say I'm not like nobody else

you're everything i need and it's so dumb

even when you're putting me through hell, you're not like anyone else

TWO YEARS.

how'd it all fall apart?

you were right here in my arms but now you're invisible

the heartbreak's physical

got a place, moved away somewhere with a different code, different state

it still feels miserable, god - it's so chemical

all that i know is i can't let you ho

it's been two years and you're still not gone

it doesn't make sense that i can't move on

i try, i try, i try, i try but this love never dies

been two years since you've been in my bee

even had a funeral for you in my head

another night, another vice

i'll always hate the fact that you ruined everybody after you

i'm always coming back to you

maybe i'm just sick and this is how it's going to be

this is all i know and i know it's not you, it's me

TOXIC TIL THE END.

call us what we are, toxic from the start

can't pretend that i was in the dark

when you met my friends, didn't even try with them

i should've known then you were jealous and possessive

so manipulating, that it's honestly impressive that you had me participating

i said i never want to see your face

i couldn't wait to see it again

we were toxic till the end

when i said it was over, you heard 'baby, can you pull me closer'

his favorite game is chess, who would ever guess when your playing with the pieces in my chest?

Saying "don't leave", you stole that line from me

i can forgive you for a lot of things, for not giving me back my tiffany rings

i'll never forgive you for one thing my dear, you wasted my prettiest years

DRINKS OR COFFEE.

this was boring, til i heard your name and now i'm staying for you

is this just me starting to see you in a different light?

i know we can't say what we mean, but i'm happy that you're here tonight

i'm feeling so good at a bad party

we don't have to talk, i know that you want me

gotta keep it nice, we cannot be naughty

we could drinks or we could coffee

is it so wrong that i've been thinking about you all day, yesterday and tomorrow?

is it so wrong that i've been bending the truth all day, yesterday and tomorrow?

i know we can't say what we mean, but you know what i mean it right?

drinks or coffee - just call me, yeah?

APT.

[ your name ]'s favourite random game, game start!

kissy face, kissy face, sent to your phone but i'm trying to kiss your lips for real

come give me something i can feel

don't you want me like i want you baby? don't you need me like i need you now?

sleep tomorrow but tonight go crazy

all you have to do is just meet me at the apartment

turn this apartment into a club

i'm talking drink, dance, smoke, freak, party all night

hey, so now you know the game, are you ready - cause i'm coming to getcha

hold on, hold on, i'm on my way

GAMEBOY.

if crying was fun, i'd be having the time of my life

if loving you was a jump, i probably would have died hundreds of times

i gave you my favourite memories

i hate the way i let you inside just so you could take it for granted

two years, and now i understand it

you'll always be a gameboy but these days i don't wanna play, boy

say what you wanna say, you're never going to change

you'll only ever be a heartbreak

you got a little too good acting like a good guy and i bought it for a minute but this isn't what you made it look like

you got a cute face and that kept me entertained

the way you say my name, i won't lie, it felt amazing

you took my love for granted, and it took me two years to understand it

shame on me, should've known better but i let you play me, whatever

somethings just aren't meant to be, kinda like you and me

i thought you'd love me forever, i should've known that you'd never

STAY A LITTLE LONGER.

take a little longer to pack your bags, you're moving too fast

make me wanna hate you, so i don't have to miss you - make a mistake, so someone's to blame

i can't stand these four walls without you inside them, build us a castlle than leave me in silence

what if i tangled some rope around your feet, into the ocean cause i'm in too deep?

please won't you stay, stay a little longer, babe?

don't walk away when i'm here calling your name

i'm fragile, i'm speechless, don't leave me in pieces - already having enough trouble breathing

walk a little slower, stand a little closer so i can convince you the minute i kiss you

speak a little softer so i don't have to answer

NOT THE SAME.

say what you want to say, but you know you're talking in circles

tell me lies, like we're okay, promise til' your face turns purple that you're gonna love me, that one day you're gonna love me right

shame on me for trusting you once, for trusting you twice

we had only and nothing but time, but somethings just change overnight

i don't know who you think you're kidding babe, cause you're not the same

we had good days and light on our side, but you fucked up and you know that i'm right

pick it up, come and drop your keys - get your stuff

find a new heart to confide in

did letting me down get tiring?

i keep on walking through all the memories i had with you, and i don't miss it - the way you broke me, love

oh, what a shame - nothing's the same

all of my love and you put it to waste

you can keep pointing your finger, but i thought it'd be us - go figure

CALL IT THE END.

we're at a crossroad, and we don't know which way to go

part of me lost home, and part of me just can't let you go

we said we'd cross those bridges when they came, now it's time to give it a name

let me know, do i call you my ex or do i call you my boyfriend?

do i call you a lover or call you a friend?

should i call you the one or the one who got away, someone i have to forget?

do i call you every night you're gone, or never call you again?

do we have a future, or do we call it the end?

we were a moment and you were my one true oasis but now all those oceans are falling down on our faces

so, if we don't see it through, i'm a better me because of you

are we lovers or friends, is this as good as it gets?

TOO BAD FOR US.

and it crept up on us, in the way that it does and the moment disappeared

in the desert of us, all our tears turn to dust - now the roses don't grow here

i guess that love does what it wants, and that's just too bad for us

was it all just slight of hand, another trick that fate played on us again?

two heads in the sand, i hear you talking but i just can't understand

caught in no man's land between the wires, coming under friendly fire - can't go forward but can't go back again

flying high with both eyes closed, almost touched the sun but i guess we got too close

now i'm dancing on my own, but the music's not as good when you're alone

we wanna talk but we don't wanna listen

we play pretend but we both know what's missing

if love burns too bright it burns out in a minute, at least that's what i tell myself

DANCE ALL NIGHT

two little birds came and sat on the ledge and they asked if i'm doing okay

one of them asked me if there was anything i would change, and i didn't know what to say but i would dance all night

i would not obsess over all the little things i regret, instead i'd dance all night

dance all night, i'll be there for you tomorrow

you can dry your eyes, we'll laugh away the sorrow

when the morning comes just promise me you'll stay forever young

VAMPIREHOLLIE (BONUS TRACK).

stupid words, lot of back jokes, angel hearts and a cute name, hate that i can remember every evil thing that you say

preying on my weakness, do you even care?

now i'm stuck with this feeling and it's so unfair

why am i letting you win? let you get under my skin?

every tear that i let fall, you can claim them all

tell me, is there something i've missed?

can't take this anymore

i can't let you break me like this

two a.m. in my hotel, on my phone and the walls start caving in

you took a clean shot to the one thing i hold close

i should be stronger than this, shouldn't let your words hit like a bullet and i hate that i did

[hopelesswrites]

Eddie x Harrington!Reader Part 2

very wattpad of me, but its not proofed sorry

Part 1

-

Family video that day became a safe haven for you. Curled up behind the counter between the two pairs of legs belonging to your brother and his best friend/shared braincell.

You had explained the situation, minus some details, not wanting to admit to your crush on Eddie Munson to Steve The King Harrington himself. He was one of those kids once, tormenting Eddie, he could easily find fuel enough to do it to you too.

You knew Steve had mutual friends with Eddie and a small association with him that created a layer of respect between the two, but that still didn’t change the way you know your brother disapproved of the boy.

“I just don’t understand why you would waste time defending Munson to begin with” Steve shrugged before aiming and tossing another screwed up ball of paper into the stationed bin behind the counter.

“Eddies always creating a scene, let him embarrass himself.” Robin chimed in. Although the girl was in the same year as you, you rarely saw her at school. She was often in the performing arts block away from the crowds, so generally missed out on Eddies own theatrics in the cafeteria.

“This time Jason was cruel; I was fed up” You answered.

“Eddies a big boy, he can look out for himself”.

You knew this, of course you knew this, Eddie was 2 years your senior, he was a grown man technically. That still didn’t change the way you felt, no one else understood the energy Eddie gave off to you, he was vulnerable, and you had grown a want to protect him.

“You sure there’s nothing else going on?” Robin asked, a hint of accusation behind her tone.

You only glared back, refusing to air out your secrets to the pair.

You tensed at the sound of the bell chiming above the door signally someone had entered, followed by Steves defeated voice. “No, out!”

The person made a noise to speak but Steve cut them off, “You still haven’t returned Gremlins from a month ago, you’re not getting anything”

“I’m not here for a movie jackass” Dustin Hendersons distinct voice responded. “I’m here for your sister”.

At that, Steve looked down at you. “Munson looking for her?”

“All over town”.

“If he’s going to laugh in my face for defending him, I don’t want to see him” You yelled out from behind the counter.

There was a beat of silence, “He’s shy”.

Steve scoffed, “Munson? Shy? That’s a joke”.

Dustin made another noise of annoyance, “He’s different around her dude, gets all red in the face and shuts down, its pathetic to watch, and completely ruined hellfire today, so they need to talk it out, kiss it out, whatever it takes to get Eddie back to normal”.

Heat had risen up to you face now as the air around you thickened, Steve wasn’t the type of brother to talk about this stuff with, he always got awkward and said the wrong things, even with his heart in the right place.

You dug your knuckles into the flesh of your eyelids, hoping the pressure would cause you to pass out, all it did was make you dizzy.

“Meet Eddie outside the auto repair shop please, he’s working with his uncle tonight” Dustin’s voice seemed louder, you realised he was peering over the counter at you.

You wouldn’t have been able to guess a month ago that this whole ‘rebelling’ move you made would lead you standing outside the towns mechanic anxiously deciding whether to go in or just turn around and forget the whole ordeal altogether, phone up Chrissy and tell her you had been feeling unwell recently and majorly wronged your judgement on the boy.

The decision was made for you when a tall older man walked out, a cigarette between his lips and a lighter at the ready before noticing your presence.

“Got a breakdown?” He gruffly spoke, lighting the cigarette and taking a drag, waiting for your answer.

“Is Eddie here?” You asked quietly, not trusting your own voice.

“He’s busy at the moment” the man dismissed you.

“Its about school, it won’t take a minute”.

The older man you can only guess is Eddies uncle nods his head and gestures inside the building. There you found that familiar head of hair leaning over an open hood, locks of hair swishing around as Eddie nodded along to a song on the radio. Before you could say anything Eddie was swinging around, wrench in hand only just missing your face.

“Woah, fuck I’m so sorry I didn’t see you there” Eddie stepped back, hitting the car with his hip.

“No sorry I was In the way” You replied flustered.

“No, never, you’re okay” Eddies tone softened, registering who had creeped up behind him.

“Dustin sent me, I just want to apologise for causing a scene today, the last thing you need is more attention, I should just mind my own business-“

“Hey” Eddies gentle voice snapped you out of you rambling, “No need to apologise, I should be thanking you, that was very brave of you to stand up to Jason like that, and that right swing was impressive” Eddies big brown eyes beamed down on you, his eye contact a stark difference from the shy glances he’s offered you these past weeks.

“I should also apologise for not defending you, I was just in shock is all”

You looked at Eddie confused, “in shock about what?”

“That you cared enough to stand up for me” Eddie shuffled on his feet, eye contact quickly over a he fiddled with the tool in his hand. “Guess I didn’t think a guy like me was worthy of your time”

Realisation struck. Of course he felt like that, you were a Harrington! It was in the name. This made you sad, and even more determined to continue hat you originally started, breaking free from the damn stereotype that came with your name.

“I thought you’d have gotten the hint by now” You answered sheepishly

Eddie perked up.

“Ive been trying to get your attention for weeks, asking for a pen? Eddie, I’m a straight A student, I would never go to class without a pen”

Eddie chuckled, “You could have forgotten”

There was a cough at the door, you both turning around to look at Eddies uncle. “I think the rest of the conversation can wait for tomorrow” He said sternly.

You nodded at the man, “Of course, ill head off”

You went to leave but were caught by Eddies grip on your elbow, “Do you wanna go out on Friday maybe?” It was rushed and awkward, Eddies uncle still watching over you and that same blush creeped back onto Eddies face.

“Like a date?”

Eddie nodded shyly, hair falling in his face conveniently to shield him.

“See you on Friday Munson.”

[blight-illusions]

Dear Edric {One Shot}

Starts June 15th, End June 19th

Immediately after Prom Edric is summoned back home and the time spent is really not great.

Triggers: Child Abuse

Dear Edric,

We’re happy to congratulate you on your graduation. After three years away from home the Illusion coven has lifted the ban on you and your sister and you are welcomed to come back.

However with the fall of your sister your new task is to take over the family business.

We look forward to seeing you soon.

Sincerely,

Your Parents.

_________

I’ll be there after Prom. I’ve agreed to take Kleo Schreiber to Prom and I can not ruin the Blight name by not going now.

-Edric

________

Edric wasn’t about to put off the trip back home any longer. Staying the extra couple weeks to go to prom was long enough and while no other letters came he knew his parents were seething.

He had spent years away from them but he didn’t forget the fear that he had standing in front of them. 

The train ride, the flight, had Edric pulling at his tongue ring, biting off the nail polish that had been freshly applied for prom.

By the time he had gotten home he barely had any nail polish on and he was sure his tongue was bleeding from the piercing. 

But he had no time to waste, even heading straight home Odalia was taping her heels waiting for him.

“Did you expect us to wait any longer? If you are to be responsible for this business nothing else is important. Be mindful before you make commitments that would ruin our family name.” Odalia huffed waving him off.

“Go now, Alador is waiting at the factory you will go straight there.” Odalia tsked, “Carry your stuff with you. So eager to see your Father you headed straight there.” She turned on her heel heading back into and slamming the door shut in his face.

Edric sighed but this was the least of his concerns carrying a duffle bag a little longer, he wasn’t expecting to eat until the end of the day at this rate until he fulfilled whatever goal Odalia wanted him to accomplish.

And so he worked at the factory, hands buried in mud and clay to get used to the materials. Told the moment something he did wrong which was often. He wasn’t an abomination speciality. He didn’t understand intricacies. 

“I do not know what your Mothers aims to gain having you take over the business. You would ruin it the same as any other. You think you can accomplish this with a talent of illusions?” The taunts were plentiful as the day progressed.

After dealing with the abominations they moved him to the paperwork, to the accounting, the ideas the R&D.

“You’re lucky you even have the Blight name you would be useless without it. - More useless than you already are.”

The moment he stopped to even rest his eyes, to try and lesson the headache forming more books slammed down on the table.

“Continue reading. If you think you’re smart enough to rest you’re not.”

The comments only got worse when Odalia visited and saw his lack of progress. (Three books read vs the eight that were given.)

“At this rate I hope you don’t expect to head home tonight. We expect so much more from you if expect to take over the business. IF you do not want to ruin the Blight name. The whole reason you’re so late.”

“Yes Mother.” 

It was 3am before Edric stopped working, his own notes as thick as the books he was reading himself. 

If he fell asleep now, if he didn’t wake up before his parents got back he would be in for a lot worse.

Pushing himself up Edric abandoned the books, opening the door slowly to make sure no one else was around before heading into the night.

He didn’t have long, maybe three hours at most when he headed out, no plan, no one he could see. No one he could turn to. Not here. Not anywhere.

Heading to the looking glass ruins, Edric sought out a certain grave resting his hand on his friend’s grave as he closed his eyes.

Until a small squeak was heard. Looking around Edric glanced at the small bat as it flew at him.

“Hello there. Are you attacking me or?” Edirc questioned grabbing the creature by it’s legs. “Plus why are you out here? Abandoned?”

The Bat squeaked and flapped his wings wildly until Edric let him go and the palisman nuzzled into his shoulder.

“Well at least there was one good thing about coming back home. You’re as lonely as me huh?”

Another squeak.

“I shouldn’t be lonely but sometimes I look at where all of us are. Amity failed, she fell from her perfect child status and yet everyone loves her still. Her friends fight for her. I have Phineas but am I only cursed to only have one person to trust me outside of my family.” Edric mused scratching under it’s chin.

“It’s stupid I know. I get so bothered by people just living their lives but it’s only recently that I’ve really felt like I could live mine. And now- now I’m supposed to come back and learn to run this company? Today was horrible and it’s the first day back. I’m going to have to speedrun being their perfect kid.” Edric shuddered at the thought.

All those training exercises him and his sisters went through as a child. Stuck out in the boiling rain, training until they could stand until they could see stars.

The words, the manipulations.

Edric couldn’t do it. 

He couldn’t not again.

And in two hours with no sleep and no food he would have to.

Maybe if he could just rest for an hour or two. Edric sat down closing his eyes. “Wake me up in two hours.” Edric mumbled to his new little bat friend.

Edric awoke to the bat biting his nose launching up he let out a yelp as he grabbed the bat and pulled him off. 

“Excuse you!” Edric got ready to scold him before glancing at the rising sun.

“Oh shit!” Scrambling up Edric took off for the factory. He was so screwed.

The Bat flew beside him as he booked it back.

Rushing into the factory he slide to a stop infront of Alador.

“Do you think this is a joke? We are giving you a chance to prove you are worthy of the Blight name and yet you goof off. These notes aren’t nearly as detailed enough. Did you retain anything from yesterday?” The lecture continued and continue and Edric listened to every word. 

Not because he wanted to.

But because he knew the repercussions.

Eventually Edric was let go with nothing else than all his notes burned and the promise of another meal taken away.

But Alador hadn’t noticed the little bat and as Edric flopped back down for a long day taking notes the bat curled up and turned to wood sleeping underneath the table. And so although he wasn’t alone he wasn’t really alone.

The next few days passed all the same.

Long hours, words of not affirmation and missed meals when he got an email.

“I’ll have to go back for my graduation. For image sake you know.” Edric stated softly, his usual confidence a little more meak.

“Yes I suppose so. For image sake at the very least. Continue to make connections to the Schreiber girl. She and her family will be useful at some point.”

Edric nodded, if he had his way he wasn’t coming back. He couldn’t.

He just needed to figure out how to not come back.

[the-firebird69]

Have a couple more announcements as time to get some rest

-our son was kind of trapped in here today. John remillard gave him trouble and it's because he is fixing a hole where he was trying to get in and we did have him looking and we looked in and people looked in and it looks okay and we can see it very openly candles it doesn't look bad and the vent stack is kind of leaking it's not good and it's sealed in now and the boot will go over it and we had a lot of trouble with John or even Lord today a lot of problems with him all over town in here and he should not be on the job he tried to screw it up three or four times we don't want him here and we want people to hire for something else send them somewhere else we don't want to working here and we don't want to working there our son a lot of people don't and I guess you guys are going to use them for stress to try and get here and the sooner empire is sick of you we're sick of you let him talk it's John remillard himself is very sick of you you ruined his fortune and his armies and you suck bags and everyone's going to die because of what you did and start a fight with them the trumps and you start to fight with the pseudo empire and he knows it's you BJ and that's what happens and it was still sick of you are you constant demands and you're whining droning it's terrible but he had to rest and it was kind of tough and he rested just kind of sat there now we have some more news

-we think that you constantly changing him and bothering him his cause so much damage you should know but you still have a lot of the populace it's still at 30% when you were at 55% and you don't notice a change cuz that's way too many you say and you're sick really really sick pigs and you don't notice about work because you don't like to work and you have weapons and stuff so sucks to be you you're stupid 2.5% out of 8%. It's nothing to sneeze about and bja and Trump used to make up 20% out of that 25% that's missing you think they'd slow down that's a lot it's mostly these assholes and it does not count the clothes who still number and about 17% on top of the population it's crazy this way too many idiots.

-we have major major attacks planned because we have to and some hefty stuff is going to come out and lay it away and you're going to be surprised it will lay you to waste and you'll be surprised and blame all sorts of things it's coming up pretty quick from this constant torment

-we also have a lot of stuff going on in the way of projects large large construction projects and for real on Earth on the surface in the middle areas and outside and if you got and your horse s*** and your Ricky dick s*** your assinine behavior you warlock has created an atmosphere of hatred of you that hasn't been present for a long time. Her son and daughter are upset it's terrible I know what it's like you're horrible horrible idiots you need to leave so we can help you leave we have things for you to do and for real eight more percent it's not a huge number the islands but well

-additional to the evacuation of Florida there's an evacuation of the mainland areas to the islands of all the warlock including pseudo empire they have some islands and they're going tonight and tomorrow and this whole week and so on tonight but that's significant and about 80% of it is Mac morlock excluding the student empire pseudo so that would be another percent 3.5% out of the eight pieces to 4.5% off Island plan on attacking the pseudo empire weather is your percent goes ahead or not and that would be another 1% down to 3.5%. has potentially that number by tomorrow morning laser bases and bunkers around the max our targeted.

I'm saying this because you act invincible and you know the odds and you know you're shrinking just want to see why

-today was a good day in town John remillard got fired from 5:00 jobs in punta Gorda that's five and he was laid off from 10 others and that's a lot and those jobs were ranking jobs and he is going to try and fire at PGA tomorrow from Port Charlotte but bja plants to fire him and from the sheriff and PD and so on but the evacuation will bring them only to 14.5 which is half of what they were last year and they're still going to have a lot of people for the most part in this area they're not going to the rings unless they're going to attack so they're going to wait we think the attack will be held off they're getting some things it might even be for almost a week to be a lot of annoying phone calls

-things are getting Jarred loose in Massachusetts Timmy is fighting and very hard and for his life against the trumpsters right now he's redoubling his efforts and tripling his efforts every hour and laying them to waste finding them and hitting and removing them is very fast and very rough. We anticipate within the next couple days it might move and with that John remillard will be too confident and he will try his death race and the move in westborough and a few other things and eventually he will lose and get strapped to Brad so someone knows what they're saying

-additionally to these battles and really wars and there's a big war developing in the Mojave and the Grand canyon area up near Utah and it's gigantic and they want to know what's down there they have sensors that are going nuts they have strange things and some really big stuff they're seeing what looks like men Frozen in the Earth. And women but really bulky it's hard to tell their women and it's going on now.

-there's some questions coming out of the very important and they're pretty good sized. He says if I'm living here my poops are not going to make it

-we have other things happening and they're important but we're going to post

Thor Freya

Olympus

Zues Hera

[councillor-roland]

Oh, this was bad. This was very, very bad so much so that it was distracting Roland from the absolute disaster that the dinner had been. Not that it had been much of a dinner when they hadn't even gotten around to eating before chaos erupted. It had only been a matter of time before that happened, though, Roland had really expected nothing less. All of that paled in comparison to this sudden realisation. It didn't stop him from pulling Rhys against him, though, or noticing how right it felt when the other man's arms were around him. "You should always listen to me." He responded, almost absently. Roland wound his arms around Rhys in return, almost too tightly because...because he couldn't do this. As much as he wanted it, as much as it felt right, as much as the thought of even a single day without Rhys was painful...he couldn't let this happen. Rhys was mortal, he clearly had no interest in eternity, and even if he had a witch's extended lifespan it would end eventually. Roland would not, could not do that to himself, not after he'd barely survived losing Alix. In spite of the maelstrom of his thoughts and emotions, he still paid attention to what Rhys was saying. "You wanted to keep the peace. It was admirable, if misguided." His voice betrayed nothing of what was going on underneath, his tone fond as usual. He might've said something else to distract both of them when a sudden downpour drenched them. Roland blinked before his attention was drawn to Seth storming out of the restaurant, the vampire's eyes narrowed as Seth fired insults at them. Compared to the cambion's they weren't that bad but still uncalled for.

Roland was about to fire back a scathing retort when he caught Rhys' quiet apology and looked at him to ask what he was apologizing for...only to find himself in the familiar surroundings of his suite. He blinked and frowned a little since that had clearly been a lot of magic quickly and Rhys didn't look comfortable. He let the witch pull away, though, even if his instinct was to pull him closer and comfort him. An instinct, he reminded himself, he would need to start suppressing and quickly. "Rhys..." The tone was both concerned and mildly disapproving. The witch knew Roland had a vested interest in his well being and never liked seeing him push himself too far as it seemed he may have done now. He let out a breath and shook his head at the apology. It was hardly Rhys' fault. He'd gone there in good faith and been attacked mercilessly for it. Reviewing the insults still made Roland's blood boil a little and his fists clench. He tried to focus on what Rhys was saying instead. "Don't waste any time making excuses for that cambion. He's not worth it." He wasn't worth anything and in spite of all of these things he was realising he still fully intended on ruining him even if....even if he wasn't with Rhys. The topic turned to Seth and Roland shook his head. "I expected better of him given your high opinion of him. It will take some doing to put him back in my good graces." Not that it would matter...after tonight. Roland could give them tonight, at least. They both likely needed it. Just the thought was painful but he knew he would have to distance himself from Rhys, cut himself off quickly and totally because then maybe...maybe it wouldn't be true. Maybe it just felt like love but it was familiarity and once it was removed and he got through the withdrawaal...maybe he would be safe.

Roland was a little surprised when Rhys asked about him, focusing back in on the conversation instead of being lost in himself. Damn. Clearly Rhys could sense that he was....going through something. He'd have to try and spin it so that it seemed like it was just his anger about the whole situation. "I'm incensed by what he said to you. He'd be lucky to be mud on your boots and yet he dares insult you like that?" Roland shook his head, that all having the benefit of being true, his ire roused again and real. Hopefully that would cover everything else. "You don't deserve it. What he said and whatever else has been said that's worse. You're better than all of that." Roland closed the distance between them again, cupping Rhys' face and kissing him, like he was using the action to soothe them both. Maybe he was and maybe he was also trying to get in as many kisses and touches as he could before...before he cut it all off. He kissed him a little harder at that thought, an edge of desperation to the action that he couldn't seem to help.

continued from here.

It was entirely plausible that it could’ve gone worse. It hadn’t gone well, that much was abundantly clear, but knowing that it could have been worse helped to placate some of Rhys’ concerns. Roland’s response to Shade’s targeted character assassination had been a sight to behold and was partially why Rhys hadn’t bothered to say much more than he had – after what had been dished out, what more was there to say? Once they were both outside, Rhys finally granted himself the privilege of releasing the exhausted sigh he’d been restraining since they’d stepped inside. There was something off about Roland’s emotional state and though it was likely easier to pin it entirely on the disagreements that had occurred only moments prior, a brief inspection of the councilman’s aura and, consequently, emotional well-being, quickly informed him there was more to the picture. He leaned almost instinctively into Roland’s embrace, coming to a halt to bury his face against Roland’s neck with a muffled noise of tired exasperation. “Should’ve listened to you,” he mumbled solemnly, wrapping his arms tightly around Roland’s waist to keep him as close as he physically could now that they were in a slightly calmer environment and he could just about think straight again. “We never should’ve shown up. Don’t know why I thought that might work.” He remained in place for a short while, simply pleased to have some sense of normality return after the vibrant display indoors. As he pulled back to straighten up, he’d been moments away from addressing the gradually growing issue of Roland’s emotional discomfort when it seemed as if the heavens themselves opened up and unleashed a torrent of rain, followed by the sound of the restaurant’s door flying open and Seth’s voice accompanying it which quickly redirected his immediate attention. He sneered at the younger witch’s remarks, his disapproval painfully explicit. Hadn’t enough been said by now? Was the desperate need to have the last word really that important? He didn’t rise to the bait as it was offered, merely content with letting his expression speak volumes for him instead. 

The second the last word left the younger witch, Rhys focused all of his attention and strength on not fucking up, tightening his grip around Roland and murmuring a quiet apology before he pushed his conjuration magic to its limits to teleport them both back to Roland’s suite to escape the side effects of Seth’s ire. A sharp exhale of discomfort left him once they were indoors and he untangled himself from Roland to catch his breath, trying to shake off the toll of pushing himself a little too far too quickly in record time. “I’m sorry about that. All of that,” he said after a few moments of silence, straightening himself up to look not quite as exhausted as he felt. “Next time I try to drag you into something like that again, feel free to remind me of this night. Seems like trying to keep the peace was a fucking awful idea. Should’ve known from the start that Dempsey’s incapable of being even halfway decent at the best of times. As for Seth…” Rhys clicked his tongue in disappointment and cut his gaze to the floor, seemingly lost for words for a moment. “Please don’t take on board anything he said. Tensions were high. I’ll… talk to him at some point. Try and get things ironed out. More importantly, though…” Hesitantly, he glanced back up to hold Roland’s gaze. “Are you okay? Don’t bullshit me. Something’s bothering you. I can see it. Is it just ‘cause of what went down in there? If so, you don’t have to hold onto it. It’s fine. I’ve had a lot worse hurled my way than the little display Shade put on.”

@councillor-roland

[torotauri]

The Perfect Gift - Happy Sana Day (18+) | Sana Minatozaki [TWICE]

Warning Sexual Content (18+) Read At Your Own Risk

Happy Sana Day

1237 Words - Just a quickie on Sana’s Birthday

***

Thursday nights are nothing special. Despite it being a pretty special day, you have been busy with work, trying to finish all the task before the end of the year. This means that you have been staying in the office for a lot of times, coming home late. However, this Thursday you had to leave the office on time. 

It was your girlfriend Sana Minatozaki’s birthday.

As the clock struck 5pm, you switched off your computer and left the office immediately. Rushing to the nearest shopping mall to pick up a bracelet that you think your girlfriend might like. You were too busy to pick up a birthday gift for her so there weren’t much options on what you could give her on her special day. You just hope she would like the bracelet you just bought. Picking up the birthday cake on your way home, you wasted no time and headed straight back home. Sana always wanted to be treated like a princess on her birthday. She even booked today off work so she could fully enjoy the day.

Rushing home, you opened the door and saw your girlfriend Sana just sitting there watching TV doing her own thing as you walked in the door.

“Happy birthday babe” as you approached her and gave her a peck on her cheeks.

No response, you decided to pull out your present to see if that would get a response from her.

“Happy birthday babe” you repeated and pulled out your present.

Sana gave a little bit of a response as she looked over to see what you got her for her present. Opening the gift like an excited child on Christmas, she quickly unwrapped the box to find a Pandora bracelet.

“So did you like the gift babe?” you asked.

Sana smirked.

“It’s a nice bracelet, but I think I want something else for my birthday” Sana smirked as she responded to your question.

“But it’s quite late now, all the shops are shut already. I’ll return it and get you something else tomorrow” you responded stubbornly still not getting what Sana really wanted.

Putting the bracelet away, Sana pulled you closer to her as her hands roam towards your crotch area.

“It’s not something you can buy babe, but it’s something only you can give me” Sana smirked as her hands rubbed your clothed cock slowly getting you hard.

You leaned in on Sana slowly kissing her lips, as you initiated the make out session. Sana reciprocated the kiss and slowly starting to make out with you. You roamed your hands underneath her hoodie as you started to fondling with her boobs. Somehow, you managed to unclip her bra whilst making out with her which caused Sana to stop the make out session.

Both of you didn’t speak, you just looked at each other with lust. 

Sana then proceeds to take her hoodie off and you did the same, stripping down until you were naked. Laying Sana down on the sofa, you slowly unbuttoned her jeans, taking them off her ankles and pulling down her panties as well. Both of you were naked at this point.

“Come on babe, give me the present I wanted” Sana said in a seductive tone.

You lined up your cock on her entrance and slowly thrusted your hips forward as you entered Sana for the first time tonight both moaning at the pleasure.

“Fff-ffuck baby” Sana moaned out.

Giving Sana slow but steady thrusts, you continued looking into her beautiful eyes as you fucked her slowly, not wanting to ruin her. She doesn’t deserve a rough pounding. She deserves to be loved, even during sex.

You continued thrusting Sana at a steady pace in missionary position as you both enjoyed the pleasure. The TV was still on, but the noises were already covered by Sana’s moaning.

“Ah ah yeah babeeeeee yeah kimochiii” Sana moaned out.

Her moans were loud but cute as you continued to pound her. Looking into her lustful eyes, you leaned down and made out with her as you muffled her moans. 

Sana was tight, like she always was. It always felt like you were taking her virginity every time you were fucking her. Her pussy was tight, but it wrapped your cock perfectly, giving you the highest possible amount of pleasure as you fucked her.

As you continued to fuck Sana’s pussy, making love to her, Sana was getting wetter and tighter as the pleasure increased. You know what’s coming, Sana was close to reaching her peak. You decided to increase your pace to give her what she wanted. 

“Yeah yeah ah ah fuccckkkkk babyyyy. I’m closeeeee gonna cummmmm” Sana moaned and screamed out as she finally reached her orgasm. 

Sana’s orgasm was loud and wet as she coated your cock with her juices whilst she screamed out as she shuddered riding out her orgasm on your cock. You decided to stop for a little bit as you looked into her lustful eyes just as she comes down on her peak.

“Give me what I really want baby” Sana said breathing heavily still yet to fully recover from her orgasm.

Getting the green light, you continued pounding Sana, making love to your beautiful girlfriend trying your best to catch your own orgasm.

“I know you are close, cum babe” Sana said in between moans.

You just responded by increasing your thrusting, all the way until you felt a tingling sensation in your core. You knew what was going to come very soon, you were getting close, breathing heavier and thrusts are no longer in a rhythm anymore.

“I’m close babe, where do you want me to cum” you asked Sana whilst breathing heavily slowing down your thrust.

“Cum in me babe, give me one final gift” Sana blurted out in between her moans.

With that, you thrusted in and out of Sana’s tight pussy like your life depended on it. For the first time, the room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping on top of the moans that both of you were producing.

You were trying so hard to chase your orgasm until it finally arrived.

“Oh god fuckkkk Sana I’m cumminggg” you groaned out as you finally reached your peak.

Spurts and spurts of thick white semen erupted out of your cock and shot directly into Sana’s pussy, filling her up as each shot was matched with a groan by you. Sana can only lay there with her eyes closed feeling her pussy being filled with warm cum, finally getting the present she really wanted. 

Once your orgasm died down, you pulled out of Sana as you saw little bit of your cum leaked out of her pussy. Most of your cum was trapped inside her tight pussy. As you laid beside Sana on the sofa, Sana used her fingers to collect whatever cum leaked out of her pussy and tasted it.

“Mmmm tasty” as Sana licked her cum coated finger.

“Was that what you wanted?” you asked as you breathed heavily trying to catch your breath after that orgasm you just had.

“Hehe, the real present will come 10 months later” Sana said as she rubbed her tummy.

You laughed at the prospect of starting a family with your girlfriend as you kissed the top of her head and cuddled on the sofa.......

[tired-biscuit]

Confident

Pairing: Kiba/fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ mdni, fem!reader // modern au. very soft, very insecure virgin!kiba. praise kink. mentions of a breeding kink. soft, cuddly and fluffy sexy time.

Word count: 7.1k

Summary: Having the house entirely to yourself is considered a cherished rarity. So, when your parents finally leave you in the safe hands of your loving boyfriend, under the pretense that you'll be doing nothing but watching movies, it's no surprise that you're about to use the chance in your favour.

IT'S nearly eight o'clock when Kiba shows up at your front door for your stay-at-home date.

Your boisterous boyfriend is nothing but eager smiles and happy chatter as he steps inside the hallway of your house when you push the door open wider for him. 

Tiny droplets of water drip from his otherwise dark grey jacket that's currently saturated into an inky shade of black. You can hear the irregular pitter-patter whenever they land on the wooden floorboards. He's creating a puddle just by standing there.

Kiba is completely soaked from being caught in the unannounced downpour that's currently raging on the other side of the door you've just closed. He looks like a lost puppy; drenched to the bone like that, but doesn't seem to mind it, apparently.

The ends of his tousled hair are clinging to his flushed face before he shakes his head and runs a hand through the wet, chestnut curls in attempt of pulling them back from his forehead. It doesn't really help, but points for effort?

You chuckle when he shoves the plastic grocery bag full of snacks into your hand before he crouches down to untie his shoes. He's telling you all about his day as he kicks the heavy boots off; happily running his mouth on how he had just bought a new game on his Nintendo Switch and had indeed spent - more so wasted - the entire day by playing it.

"So, anyway," Kiba says as he stands up to his full height again, "I was thinkin' we could play it? It's got a two-player mode, I've checked. Oh, and I also downloaded a couple of movies to a USB, if you wanna watch something instead."

He's towering over your bearing inside the narrow hallway as he stares down at you with shiny, keen eyes of amber. The dimple inside his rosy cheek deepens when one corner of his mouth tugs to the side. He's smiling somewhat expectantly now; showing you his pretty teeth.

You, on the other hand, can't stop staring at him. He's just so fucking cute whenever he gets excited over something as simple as video games. Over the course of your relationship, you've come to learn that Kiba's otherwise wild flurry of joy is often easily appeased.

It makes you wonder if the same fact stands in a different, more intimate setting.

The truth is: you want to ruin that exact sweet, brutish purity that surrounds your boyfriend in that moment. To spoil it entirely by taking his virginity and making him yours completely and in every single aspect. The desire to grab it and brand it with your name is thrilling. You've been thinking about it ever since he had told you that he had never been touched before.

And tonight - with your home rid of your nosy parents and riotous siblings for at least a couple more hours - it seems to be the perfect time to accomplish that very task. If he lets you, that is.

You've talked about it before. Just nothing definite yet.

"Well," the thought coaxes you to trail off in answer, prolonging the last letter into a slightly higher pitch, "I was thinking we could do something else, actually."

"Yeah?" Kiba is unzipping his jacket now, revealing the forest green sweater underneath. You try not to ogle at the way the thick cotton tightens around his strong biceps when he drapes the jacket over the hanger to dry. Goddamn, he's so fit, tall - bulky. Your mouth is nearly watering from how good the muted colour compliments his golden skin tone. "What is it that you wanna do, babe?"

He doesn't seem upset that you've just sneakily shut down his offer of playing the stupid game or watching the action movies he likes. Just curious.

His quizzical look makes your teeth sink into your bottom lip. You repress the urge to tell him that you indeed want to do him. That you've been wanting to do him for a long while, actually.

Christ, you're so touch-deprived that it's sad in a way. But it's not like it's Kiba's fault. Your rowdy boyfriend has been nothing but a sweetheart during the entirety of your relationship; crushing you in tight bear hugs and kissing you senseless for the last three months you've been together.

He's practically spoiled you rotten with never-ending affections, however the problem is that they aren't enough. Never have been.

You're greedy. Corrupt. You want to take everything he has to offer and place your own mark upon it. Until he's completely yours and yours alone. Some may call it possessive, but you're just madly in love.

"Babe," Kiba repeats slowly, quirking one dark brow when you don't reply. The chill of his lips nudges you back to life when they press against your cheek in a doting peck, "You doin' all ri-... Mmph!"

Before you can convince yourself to do otherwise, your head whips to the side in one quick motion. Kiba's little gasp of surprise is cut off as you trap his mouth into a proper kiss before he can even finish uttering the word out completely. 

His plush lips are still cold from the wind that's howling outside, but they're fast to warm up the moment the tip of your tongue darts out to stroke one tenderly. It's like you're pouring liquid sunshine right into his mouth.

Kiba isn't entirely sure what's going on with you all of a sudden, but he still allows you to kiss him even more deeply by opening his mouth a fraction wider and fluttering his thick eyelashes shut. He likes it whenever you kiss him first. It makes him feel appreciated. Wanted.

So he complies.

Your tongue forces its way inside now - gliding over every crevice and each flat surface of his front teeth. You trace the roof of his mouth. Taste the echo of sugar the watermelon chewing gum has left behind. He's always been fond of chewing that specific flavour that you don't even particularly like, but it surprisingly doesn't bother you if you taste it from his saliva alone.

He can feel your fingernails scraping the front of his thick sweater as you make out with him with passion in the form of a blazing fire of which he has indeed caught mellow flickers and sparks of in these past few weeks. 

The unfamiliar sensation is making his heart swell up to the point where his ribcage feels too small to contain it. He wants to back up to find some stability, but only ends up being pushed against the door by you instead.

He's bigger than you; stronger. But this is unfamiliar territory you're forcing him to trek on. It makes him feel small, both in body and spirit.

Your hands are running up and down his broad chest, thoroughly feeling the erratic heartbeat and shaky breaths before you reach up and cup his face. Even his skin is tight and cold from the lousy weather outside, as well as in contrast to your otherwise warm palms. The icy sensation only spikes the thrill you feel somewhere deep within you.

A quiet groan rumbles inside the back of his throat when your nimble digits shoot up and tangle into the hair on the nape of his neck. His entire body is growing hot underneath the somewhat indecent touch. The adrenaline to course his veins is making his temperature rise all too quickly for it to be considered healthy. 

Along with something else, it seems.

You feel the persistent, hard outline of his now-waking cock. The surge of hot blood makes Kiba's pants tighten to an unbearable degree as it pokes against your thigh when you press yourself further against him. He nearly shudders when your hand dips down to trace the ridge of him. He's so sensitive that it hurts.

His entire body turns rigid as soon as you let out a gasping, tiny noise of eager satisfaction, which he's never heard you make before. Kiba doesn't pull away when you apply more pressure to feel him out better. He just stands there; gears turning in the speed of light and practically beginning to smolder from how hard he's trying to focus as you continue to own his mouth with your own.

Goodness, he's big as far as you can tell from just running your fingers over the bulge. The newly-discovered knowledge makes you even more excited than you already are. You've sexted a bit, but he's never sent you pictures or videos. You've had nothing but your imagination and porn to satisfy your demanding and growing needs on lonely nights when he wasn't around to take care of you.

Until now, that is. Now, you have him right where you want him.

"Baby," Kiba breathes in-between one especially feverish kiss, his lips long since swollen and red from the intensity, "your mom and dad-"

"Aren't gonna be home in at least a few more hours," you cut him off in an instant. The smacking pop! to echo between your lips when they part from his own makes him blush as you add softly, "so don't you worry, babe. We're completely alone."

His brows knit tightly together when you unleash your love upon his panting mouth once more. He's silent for a moment, however the hushed, muffled compliance allows relief to wash over you as he finally utters a meek, "Mm'kay."

You just want him so bad.

And it seems that he wants you just as much.

Kiba leans down; looming over your shorter frame so that you can kiss him more deeply again. The thin, glistening strings of saliva between your mouths break and connect with every ardent brush of lip as you nearly try to devour him with each stroke your tongue gives. It's just you and him inside the dimly-lit hallway, but the space feels way too crammed to breathe properly. Not that you're trying to, anyway.

You've kissed him before, though never like this. He isn't completely sure if he's reacting properly as he caresses your cheek with his big, rough hand and angles your head to the side so that he can kiss you better, but he prays that it's the right thing to do.

Your breathing staggers in the back of your throat when he lets out another hushed groan as you fondle him. He bucks his hips forward; avidly pushing further into your hand to feel your touch more precisely as his own squeezes your jaw so harshly that it aches. 

You make that cute, little noise as soon as your fingers tighten around the denim of his pants, forcing him to push forward again. It's the act of pure instinct. He doesn't know how to control it.

Kiba feels like a feral, roaring animal that's been set loose and allowed to sink its fangs into anything it desires as you stroke him over the layers of clothes he's wearing. The hormones to flood his brain make him unable to think straight like a proper human. He's more beast than man in that moment.

Your voice is more of a coo than anything else when you look him in the glazed, dark eyes and ask, "Wanna go to my room?"

Kiba seems completely dazed as he replies with a slow, breathless, "Mhmm, yeah."

He follows you to your bedroom without a single complaint; drenched jacket and grocery bag full of snacks long since forgotten by the feeling of your tongue roaming the inside of his mouth. He's got way better and more important things on his mind than to think about food and movies.

The anticipation of whatever is about to happen is going to eat him alive. It makes his head hurt.

A hushed grunt slips out when your palms press against his chest and push him until the back of his knees hit the edge of your bed. He falls back, rigid spine hitting the mattress, but before he can even take a single breath, you're already on him; straddling his lap and pressing both delicate palms on each side of his head.

Your boyfriend stares up at you with honey eyes wide open, tender bottom lip trembling slightly as he feels you sit down on the part that is currently his most sensitive one. He sucks in a sharp breath through gritted teeth when you roll your hips against him; hissing lowly as your clothed pussy makes contact for the first time with his dick.

The tiny pyjama shorts you're wearing are so flimsy that the way his zipper rubs against you feels straight up euphoric. Your panties are getting drenched just by the mere idea of getting filled up to the brim by your loving significant other. 

The arousal you feel only makes your senses heighten when he traces his hands up your bare thighs carefully. Goosebumps form over the bare skin he touches. You're not entirely sure if he understands just how fucking attracted you are to him.

Kiba stops when he reaches your hips, nervous fingers twitching around the cotton of your t-shirt. He squeezes the curves hesitantly. It's riveting.

He's clearly lost; unsure about what to do now. It only makes you grind against him again because you're hungry for the friction, absolutely starved for it, actually.

"Babe," Kiba whines quietly at the sensation, face blooming bright pink from how good it feels, "god-goddamn."

He's going to cum inside his pants if you keep torturing him like this. It's like heaven and hell in one.

"What do you wanna do to me, Kiba," you whisper, kissing the edge of his jaw, "touch me? Fuck me, maybe? Do you wanna make me moan your name out?"

Your lewd words make his blush deepen to a worrisome shade. He wants to go all the way, that he's sure of. He's wanted it for a while, but never knew how to initiate it properly, and thus never really attempted to take that step to make it happen. 

Kiba is complex, after all. A person far too prideful to admit his incompetence; rather shoving it far away behind a facade of arrogance than facing it properly.

He hates being embarrassed. Despises being made fun of. He's sensitive and tender underneath all that hard exterior that he wears every day like a knight's armour, and should be treated delicately, carefully as such. His otherwise immense confidence sometimes thins out like it's made of precious porcelain. 

It shatters just as easily, if handled too harshly by a person he cares about. And he cares about you - a lot, in fact. 

So, as he looks up at your warm smile and lustful eyes, he can't stop worrying about what'll happen if he doesn't perform the way you want him to. Sure, he knows that you love him and that he's scored the sweetest, most supportive girlfriend he could ever wish for, but what if he loses all of that because he doesn't know how to satisfy you? Will you be mad at him? Disappointed, even?

What if...? What if, what if, what if?

He's got insecurities - loads of them. He's just very clever at hiding them.

And yes, Kiba understands that you're not shallow enough to provoke them into showing themselves and later pointing them out with a judgemental index finger - of course he does, however he doesn't want to be just average, like he's been with pretty much everything else in his life.

He wants none of that stupid, insignificant rivalry that's been haunting him ever since he was a little kid as he keeps trying to stand out and prove that he's the best. None of that sticky feeling of disappointment that he gets whenever he compares himself to other people and realizes that there will always be others who are better than him - even to this day, at the age of nineteen.

So, all Kiba wants; is to be enough for once. To be your personal number one - your very favourite. 

Luckily for him, he has you to help him achieve that, and he realizes it by just the way you're looking at him now: so tenderly and sweetly - with such profound love and affection, that simply refuses to yield to his apparent hesitancy. 

You'll take care of him and spoil him, until he'll start seeing stars, but will still feel like he's the one in charge of placing them on the night sky in the first place. You'll make sure that his pride remains untouched. You'll make him feel good, and teach him how to make you feel just as good, too. Shape him and sculpt him into something worthy enough of all your love.

It's time he pushed past this obstacle. To offer himself to you completely, and show you all of his layers - even the raw and vulnerable ones that he doesn't particularly like about himself. It's time that he allowed for someone else to take the reins and lead the way.

"I-I want-..." He breathes in deeply, blinking profusely up at you. His face is burning so intensely that it tingles as he murmurs, "I want you. But I don't know how, you know that I've never-... I've never... Mm."

He clamps his lips shut because his pride won't let him admit what he's told you over text two months ago; the vivid redness that takes over his entire face bright and hot to the touch. 

A faint glimmer of merriment shines in your eyes at his answer as you stare at him softly. "You want me to help you out?"

Kiba looks up, the amber within his eyes recoiling at how kind and cautious you are with him. How hard you're trying to make him feel comfortable enough. And it's that first step that he takes in revealing his fragile heart that makes your own sing when he takes your offered, helping hand and says, "Yeah... I'd like that."

"Okay," you say, placing a soft kiss upon his awaiting mouth, "I'll help you."

The smile you gift him makes his pulse pound right behind his ears. You're just so wonderful and he's so madly in love with you. He can't help it.

He sighs when he feels your fingers hook around the hem of his green sweater, so that you can hike it up. "All right." His eyes flicker all over the room before he adds a quiet: "Thank you."

"No worries, baby."

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you focus on the tan, rippling muscles of his abs that gradually come into view with every inch of his sweater being pushed farther up. You've seen him shirtless before in the summer, but it means something more intimate this time around. Might be because you're the one to actually undress him. To touch him.

"You're such a pretty boy, Kiba," you utter, reaching his ribs, "my pretty boy."

Your nails trace the outline of firm muscles. His toned stomach flexes underneath the ticklish touch; recoiling and spasming as he's trying to catch his breath. He's grunting every time you touch him. Everything feels so intense.

"So fit and strong."

Kiba looks like he's on the verge of passing out from how insecure and small he feels at the doting compliments you keep throwing his way. The warmth of his cheek nearly sears your skin when you kiss it before nudging him to lift both of his arms so that you can tug off the sweater and the t-shirt that he's wearing underneath.

You toss his clothes onto the floor without a second thought as soon as you're done, your hands finding home on his tight body again; exploring every inch of his firm torso. He's growing so hot underneath you that you're somewhat surprised that there isn't any actual steam spiraling from his sun-kissed skin.

His jaw clicks into place when you trail your touch down his sides and trace a single, straight line along his waist with the tip of your index finger. Your eyes keep flicking between his face and his abs, which he clenches everytime your digit strikes him. He's so responsive that you can barely contain yourself.

You watch him carefully as your fingers curl around his belt buckle. He jumps a bit at the sudden touch. "You doin' okay so far?"

He seems to be completely zoning out as he stares up at you with amber eyes that are so glossy that you're wondering how you can't see your own reflection in them yet. He glides his tongue along his front teeth when he spurts out a quick, "Yes."

"Yeah, handsome?" Your smirk is playfully teasing as you tap your nail against the titanium buckle of his belt a couple of times, "Are you gonna let me see what's hiding underneath here, now?"

He looses a sheepish chuckle at the compliment before smiling feebly. "Yeah."

"Good." You flick the tip of his nose quickly to make him relax, "'Cause I'm really curious to see what you look like."

He sounds so on edge and nervous when he hums, "Mhmmm."

You undo the belt buckle as he pushes upwards, resting his weight on his elbows so that he can see you better. His face is just so goddamn red as he fixes his gaze on your expert hands that are now undoing the button and zipper of his pants. He's nearly frowning from how intensely he's focusing. 

Your voice is soft like a purr of a kitten, "Are you all right with me taking these off?"

He confirms it with a short nod of his head and a quiet, "Yes."

Currently, he reminds you nothing of his usually loud, boisterous self. There isn't a trace of that wild, untamed spirit that you're used to seeing around him. Only bashful timidness and alert, doe-like eyes that follow every single movement that you make inside your dark bedroom.

His breath hitches when you tug his pants down and rest your hand over the bulge that's set up a pretty decent tent inside his black boxer briefs. He winces when the tip of your finger hooks underneath the thick, burgundy waistband. Outright flinches when you pull it back lightly and make it snap against his stomach.

You're messing around. It makes his cock twitch with anticipation.

"Babe," he utters softly, pushing his hips upwards to get the message across. He doesn't say anything else.

"No teasing?"

"No."

You stifle your chuckle by pressing your lips upon his own again. He tries to pull you in for a deeper kiss, but you're already moving by spreading lovely affections over his sharp jawline and his neck, paying special care to his pulse point and sweet spot. His breathing quickens by the time you're kissing his collarbone; is turning shallow when you're paving a path of steady kisses down his chest.

By the time the tip of your nose is brushing against the soft, dark hair that covers his belly, his eyes shoot wide open like he's absolutely petrified for what's to happen next. His hand rests on your cheek with surprising harshness as he stops you from moving downwards any further; forcing you to look up at him by hooking two thick digits underneath your chin.

"Hmm?" The look you give him as your eyes connect with his own could best be described as puzzled. "Don't want me to go down on you?"

He's shaking his head quickly in answer, attempting to stop the irksome burning he feels on his entire face. "Not now."

Curiosity makes your voice lilt as you question, "Why?"

"I don't-..." He ponders for a moment, groaning quietly when you touch him again. You try not to smile at the small damp spot of pre-cum that soaks the front of his boxers now. His body is literally begging for you to sit on his dick already, but you need to listen to what he has to say first: "It'll be over much too fast if you do that. I, uh... I don't wanna cum too soon."

You quirk a brow at the worrisome expression he's portraying now, albeit respect his wishes as you climb back up to straddle him again. The grin you offer him now is bright and affable before your fingers curl around the hem of your t-shirt. You tug it over your head in one smooth motion, exposing the bare skin that's been hiding underneath. 

You're not wearing a bra. Kiba's pupils visibly dilate at the sight of your bare chest. He legitimately looks like he's taking pictures with eyes that might just pop out of their sockets any second now.

Unlike him, you're not shy or hesitant at all to show some skin. It only makes the red on his face grow more ferocious as you attempt to soothe him, "I don't care if you cum quick, Kiba. There's nothing wrong with that, and besides, maybe I'm just really good at sucking dick and it's not you that's the problem. Ever thought of that?"

A hint of that hot-headed Inuzuka stubbornness flashes through him as he bites out, "Well, I do care."

He tries not to think that you've done this sort of thing with other men before. Now is not the time to brood and feel jealous of ex-boyfriends from your past. The only thing that matters is the now, and that he's here to spend it with you. Not them.

You stare at him for a moment. Study his bashful, somewhat troubled expression before giggling at the tight furrow of his brow. He's clearly irked. "Okay. Whatever you say."

Kiba sighs at your compliance, his jaw slackening into something a bit more relaxed. "Thanks."

"Anytime, grumpy."

"Hah! Funny."

You flash him another comforting smile. "Your turn now."

"Hmm? O-Oh-...!" Kiba winces again when your fingers tug on the waistband for a second time without any warning. You wait a short moment before you start to tug it down; start to ogle. He doesn't stop you. Just watches with eyes that blink far too much every couple of seconds.

"Stop staring," he mumbles unsurely as you're halfway done exposing him to your wondering gaze at long last.

"I'm not staring," you reply, eyeing every inch to come into view, "just looking."

He grumbles, his shoulders tense and hard. Even his neck feels stiff as he watches your hands do the work of undressing him completely. "Are too."

"Hush."

Kiba can hear the small, albeit sharp inhale you suck into your aching lungs when his cock finally pushes free from the last tight layer of clothing that now joins the rest of your clothes. It slaps against his stomach; hard, hot, throbbing and ready. You're outright gawking at him now, disrespectfully leering at the protruding vein and his sheer size.

He's big and girthy. Thick. As soon as he learns how to use all of that properly, he'll be able to destroy you with a cock like that. Will be able to make you cry and beg as your insides get pounded and literally turned over everytime he'll slam into you. You just know that everything is going to hurt in the best way possible when you teach him how your body works and what it likes.

"What are you thin-thinking about...?" He stumbles on his words when your fingers wrap around his dick carefully. Your hand looks dainty in the most ludicrous way as you give him a light squeeze and stroke. It's almost funny.

Kiba's teeth feel on edge as the pleasure hits him like a truck speeding down the highway would have done. The way you're palming him feels different than when he does it alone. It's a lot to take in. Everything is more sensitive. Better. It makes pure heat buzz over his skin and his anxiety-dripping nerves.

You give him another stroke as you say, "You want the truth?"

He just nods in answer, because he can't say anything else. His bottom lip is nearly trembling from just a mere handjob. He can't stay still. Can't focus. It feels like his brain is melting inside his very skull and evaporating into thin air. He's practically brain-dead.

He can barely keep his eyes open, goddammit.

"The truth is that I want to sit on it," you mumble, pumping slowly, "like, right now. Sorry if that doesn't sound all that romantic. I'm trying my best."

Kiba wants this so bad that he doesn't give a shit about fucking romance. His body is yearning for sex, and is begging him to persuade you into letting him feel the slick warmth he's always been curious about. To experience it wrap around his most tender part, so that you're able to spoil it with love. 

He wants to see how your cute pussy looks like. Yes, you've sent him pictures. Many. And he knows that he hasn't been fair in not sending any back, but he's always been far too deep in his head about his appearance and where your opinion on it stands to be able to tap that dreadful 'Send' button.

So, he hopes he can make up for it with this. In granting you your wish that you unknowingly share with him. He's far too dazed to receive much foreplay and far too clumsy to give it because of said daze.

"Fuck, just do it." He bites his bottom lip, chewing on the tender flesh as he screws his eyes shut, "Just sit on my dick, al-already...!"

You want to laugh at how needy he sounds and looks, however you're smarter than that. Instead, you hide the smile that's pushing through as you turn away to grab the bottle of lube which you keep inside your nightstand drawer. Sure, you may be absolutely drenched just from his heavy breathing and the cute, little noises he's making, but no foreplay and his immense size don't sound like a great combo in that moment.

You'd prefer being able to sit down on a chair normally after this, after all.

Getting rid of your pyjama shorts and panties rather unceremoniously; you throw the last of your clothes on top of the pile that has messily gathered on the floor right next to your bed. Kiba curses quietly at the cool, slippery sensation the lube gives him as you pour it over his throbbing hardness; his eyes glued to your naked body the entire time.

You tease him now, "You're the one who's staring now."

"Sorry, you're just-... You're really pretty," he says softly, his fingers gently stroking your hip, "gorgeous."

It's your turn to blush now. His words are so sincere and fueled with emotion that your heart flutters in the same pace his own hammers when you raise your hips slightly and align yourself with him at long last. 

You can see a muscle in his cheek spasm when you lower yourself on the first inch. "Ah, babe...! Prote-"

"I'm on the pill, Kiba." You kiss the tip of his nose playfully, "Don't worry. You won't be fucking a baby into me anytime soon."

The words send a wildfire raging through his veins as he looks up at you with slightly parted, bruised lips. He's heaving now, grunting and cursing in the most hoarse voice you've ever heard him own. It's even deeper and raspier than the one he has on most mornings. 

"I'd-" He stops himself for a second when you slide further down his cock. His brain feels like it's short-circuiting as he grits out, "I'd like to, though... Someday."

"Yeah?" Your smirk is cunning as you grip his broad shoulders; nails sinking into smooth, sun-kissed skin, "You'd like to make me round with your kid?"

Shadows haunt his amber eyes. He looks more animal than human as you keep egging him on. "Fuck yes. Wanna fuck a kid into you, pretty... My kid. Wanna do it so bad."

You're suspecting that you might have a boyfriend with a breeding kink in the making on your hands, because now you can feel him shoving his hips up from the mattress lightly as he's trying to fill you up at a faster pace. The ache that appears as he spreads your tight, unstimulated walls apart is nearly making your eyes roll into the back of your head.

"Fuckin' hell," he spurts out as he pants, "so-... so tight."

"Does it feel good, baby?"

Your kisses are as distracting as your hands, which are currently busy roaming Kiba's heaving chest and neck. He can barely concentrate with every loving swipe and caress that you give to his body that's practically buzzing with electricity. The overstimulation is wonderful, but torturous at the same time.

"Yeah." His voice is fragile and shakes like rattling glass as he answers your question, finally. Kiba takes a sharp, shuddering breath whenever you ease yourself down onto him; every movement of your bare hips careful, but nevertheless carnal when they meet his own.

You can see his fingers curl around the crisp, white bed sheet now. He's gripping it so harshly that his knuckles are turning the exact same colour as the cotton, no matter how tan his golden skin is otherwise. He's clearly overwhelmed; lying on top of your bed like this, watching you make that first bounce on his cock for the first time ever.

Your smile is more of a feline-like sneer than anything else when you look down at your boyfriend's handsome face that's now red as a stop sign and coated in a layer of thick, hot sweat. The sugar to lace your tone is sweet and immensely soothing when you coo, "You wanna cum, Kiba?"

His dark irises are unable to stay fixed on you for longer than two seconds, at best. He's looking at everything and nothing in particular simultaneously, drawing a small, teasing chuckle out of you.

Shit. You're trying not to laugh; to keep it together for his sake, but his pupils are blown wide and are in the size of dinner plates that you keep inside your kitchen cabinet. He looks like he's just seen God. Isn't far from joining him up in the Heavens, either.

And for good reason, too. The surge of heat to wash over his entire body is making Kiba feel incredibly dizzy. Sex feels much warmer than what he'd imagined it'd be like. It's tighter. Slicker.

It's so much better.

"Ye-Yes... No. It's just-... I..." His pink upper lip visibly quivers when you roll your hips against him in response to his indecisiveness. He's trying his best to not squeeze his eyes shut from the sensation and to withhold the orgasm that's threatening to come much too soon for his liking. His heart is climbing up his throat when he grits out, "Fuck...! Christ almighty, babe... Please."

The second tinkling snigger to leave your mouth is as gentle as the sound of wind chimes being brushed by the faintest summer breeze. You just can't help yourself.

But you listen to his plea as you stop your lewd movements for a moment; easing yourself down on him completely and sighing at the pleasant feeling of fullness his cock gives you as it snuggles deep within your drenched warmth. He's so big that the stretch is slightly uncomfortable when you're sitting completely still, but it's nothing you can't endure. For now.

He's whimpering at the pleasure, brow furrowed so intensely that it makes you kiss the small 'v' in-between his dark eyebrows to try and smooth it down. What a joy it is to see him this helpless. Come to think of it, he's been arrogant and self-absorbed for far too long in your relationship. It's time that you wore the big boy pants.

"Not yet, okay?" Your murmur is muffled as you press a kiss onto his salt-coated forehead. His chestnut hair is ruffled and messy, and is literally damp from how much he's sweating. Poor man. "Try to keep it together for me, baby. Yeah?"

"Okay," is all he says, even though he's bucking his hips upward, trying to push even deeper inside of you on instinct, "fuckin' hell, okay, okay, okay...!"

So eager.

You ravage him slowly; thoroughly. He warns you whenever it feels too good so that you can slow down and wait until he calms down enough to continue. He's vocal and responsive and everything you've expected him to be. It is absolutely wonderful.

Kiba thinks you're a wonderful teacher. You whisper praises into his ear, kiss him a lot, and assure him that he's doing a splendid job. He lives for your compliments as you lead his touch over the curve of your hips and up to your ribcage; all until he reaches your tits, which are practically aching to experience his rough affection.

Your hands hover over his bigger ones as you coax him into fondling you. You apply pressure to his knuckles, making him squeeze your sensitive breasts. When the tips of his calloused fingers trace the peaked nipples, you let out a soft, shuddering gasp. 

Kiba is staring up at the face you're making in absolute awe. He isn't sure if it's the lube or your arousal that's beginning to drip between you, but he can't bring himself to care. It soaks the bed sheet; makes him stare. He can see the ring of milky, creamy slick gleaming on his cock whenever you move your hips up before slamming them right back down.

God, he feels like he's in heaven. Your pussy is practically eating him right up. He wants this to last forever.

Though, all good things must come to an end, sadly. Even this one. 

He can barely breathe when you quicken your pace and kiss him so hard that your teeth clash against his own. Kiba can feel the feeble, albeit gradual tightening of your walls as you moan into his mouth, cursing the most obscene things he's ever heard you say while your tongue dominates his own.

The movement of your hips and the lewd, squelching noises are making his entire body jolt and hum with lightning - right down to the hollow of his bones. His skin feels too tight to contain the sticky, hot pressure that's beggining to climb within his lower stomach. His cock is twitching as it hits a rather gushy, soft spot somewhere deep inside you.

You're doing it on purpose. You just feel so powerful; riding him like this.

"Oh, fuck. So good. It feels so fu-fucking good." He's squeezing his eyes shut before he forces them open again, pushing and writhing against you like a waking beast. He tries to burrow himself as deep as possible into your wonderfully addicting warmth. You can't even pull your hips up anymore, because he's slamming you right back down, forcing you to stay on his cock.

"Stay there," he tells you.

And you can't help but obey.

He doesn't realize how strong he actually is as he does it; especially when he's needy like this. Oh, he is going to fucking wreck you without even knowing it. You can already tell that your skin will bruise after you're done.

His arms wrap around you now, broad hand pulling the hair from your face so that he can see you better. He tugs on it right at the roots, making your eyes water. Sweat is dripping down his temple as he keeps staring up at you, his pupils overtaking most of his honey irises. 

"Cum for me, Kiba, c'mon... Fill me up. I wanna be full with it. Just your cum, baby." The entire room smells like sex and heat. You're on the verge of bursting and fading into true, utter bliss. You just need that tiny extra push from him. Just that sweet cherry on top. "Need you to do it for me, baby... So bad. Please."

His skin pulls taut at the words and indecent pleas. Kiba's hips follow instinct as they keep rutting - harsh and quick, fucking you in mind-blowing thrusts. You're both melting into each other, moaning into each other's mouths when he starts slamming home for the both of you; abusing that sweet spot within you as he kisses your cervix.

"Gonna-... Gonna cum, babe. Real soon."

"Mhmmm, that's it, baby. You're such a good boy. So good at fucking me."

The praise is his undoing, as well as the way how tightly your sweet pussy clenches around him. Just a few more jerky, mind-numbing thrusts, and Kiba is filling you up right to the brim with his warm, sticky seed; painting your walls completely white. 

Pop! - your lips part as his head tips back on the mattress from the buzzing euphoria to hit him in tremendous, ferocious heatwaves. He shoves his dick inside you as far as it'll go, cum still spurting out in gentle, toe-curling ropes deep within. 

He's busted a circuit inside that nervous brain of his. He doesn't know how to function anymore. It's the best damn orgasm he's ever had. It makes him feel all warm, tingly and numb. He's completely powerless as he rides the high.

You follow as soon as it happens, bliss contorting your features; making you cry out his name in a high-pitched whine that makes his ears hurt, but his heart race. His arms tighten around you as he keeps you down on his cock, keeping you steady even though he can barely do it himself. Your pussy is practically milking him dry. He feels like he's losing brain cells.

Every breath he takes is ragged. "Fuck, I love you so much."

"I love you too. So much, baby. God, I can't breathe."

It takes you minutes to calm down enough so that you can slide off of him. Your skin is hot and covered in sweat, but he doesn't mind it at all as you hook your leg over his middle and nuzzle your face into his chest. Your warm breath tickles his naked skin. It's pleasant.

The tips of his fingers stroke your bare spine. He can feel your mixed relief dripping and sticking to his thigh as it leaks out of your poor pussy when you curl yourself around him. It's messy and sticky, but he catches himself enjoying the fact that it's there. You've both made it happen.

Long moments pass before he breaks the silence with a whisper, "Was it good?"

"Oh, it was amazing," you sigh, nudging your cheek against his chest so that you can hear his rapid heartbeat better, "I can't wait to do it again. And again. And, you guessed it, again."

Kiba can barely contain the smile that's forcing itself onto his face.

He's never felt more confident.

[fyodoro]

hello! can you do akito and toya [separately] with a male reader whos their singing partner, and after a good performance one day they just..confess.

like theyre just like “great concert!” “I am in love with you.”

Thanks in advance, take your time!

If Not You, Than Who?

Featuring Akito Shinonome and Toya Aoyagi

Jazzyyyy hi ty for requesting, I hope you like this cause this idea was rlly fun to write…

CW) swearing in Akito’s part, kissing smooch smooch, Toya is an awkward lover boy

Akito Shinonome

Akito could only dream of the day he could pour his heart out to you. For as long as he’s been your partner, he’d always get that warm bubbly feeling in his chest. It made him nauseous. He absolutely despised it. But he knew it would never go away; even if he were to confess it would only feel worse.

So he buried these feelings deep down. All he wants is to continue singing with you, no one else. If you were to reject him- then what would become of you two? Akito didn’t want too think of it, not risk it. ‘It’s for the best’ he’d think, despite knowing how big of a lie it was.

Of course his pining only got worse the more time he spent with you, probably at it’s absolute peak the day of the performance. Adrenaline coursed through Akito’s veins, not going unnoticed by you or the crowd. His voice boomed louder than ever, just loud enough to keep the crowd hyped and engaged. He felt lighter than ever, freely moving on the stage with out disrupting his or your’s singing. It was… entrancing too you.

The performance goes amazing, perfect even! You & Akito walked off stage receiving many compliments and positive feedback from the live-house staff. You gave him a light snack on the back with a huge grin.

“That was one of our bests yet, don’t ya think ‘Kito? You sounded amazing up there- oh and how well your voiced synced with mine! The crowd loved it!”

If Akito wasn’t feeling just as hyped as you were, he would have died on the spot. The nickname and all the compliments in just a few words from you would have been too much. For some reason, that only made the adrenaline increase.

“Yeah, that was amazing! And- fuck, (Name), I love you!”

He couldn’t stop himself, not now. And for some reason, he didn’t feel any embarrassment, in fact- he felt proud. And your reaction was only making him feel even more proud. You stared at him for a few seconds, letting his words sink in. If he loves you, then…

You placed your lips on Akito’s, who didn’t waste a moment to kiss back. It just felt right. Like a huge weight was lifted off his shoulders, he practically melted. You both pulled away , looking back at each other before chuckling.

“In case that didn’t make it go through your thick skull, I love you too, Akito.”

Toya Aoyagi

It’s not like Toya to be so upfront about his emotions, simply disliking displaying them on his face. Although he’d like too, it just doesn’t feel right to him. Because of this, Toya feels twice as much on the inside, in his heart. Which is why it didn’t take him too long to understand his infatuation with you.

You’d always be his singing partner, even if he had Akito, you were always going to be his partner. So Toya didn’t see a problem with confessing to you. Even if you rejected him, he could move on, he always does. The problem was finding the right time to confess. Somehow, any appealing moment to confess is quickly interrupted or ruined, slightly pissing him off over time.

The performance set for tonight wasn’t expected to be anything too major, just a simple performance at a live-house to get your names out there more. It was gonna be quick and go, nothing more nothing less. So why was he so pumped? Noticeably as well, which was certainly new.

On stage, his voice sang smoother than ever before, syncing up perfectly with your voice. The crowd loved it- cheers booming through the live-house as well as an exciting atmosphere. You both side-eyed each other, giving small smirks to one another. ‘This is going amazing’ you both thought in unison.

The live ended at the best moment, with the crowd still hyped but settled and the atmosphere making anyone forget about any sort of exhaustion they may have had. You waved at staff members while Toya smiled at them as they gave you two thumbs up and “nice job!”’s. Finally, you and Toya were alone together, not getting your ear drums blown out by any crowd or music.

“Toya, that was so good! How did we get the crowd so hyped like that? We barley had any high expectations for this! You did incredible.”

He wasn’t sure what to say in response, but he still knew it was now or never.

“We did great, didn’t we? And (Name), I know this may sound sudden, but I love you.”

He rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment, avoiding your gaze in fear of rejection. He tried to play it off cool, but the pink settling on his cheeks gave him away. You felt stunned, but none the less happy he finally said it.

Pulling him in by the waist, you softly but passionately kissed him. Toya was shocked, not even able to process this moment. He wish he kissed you back as you pulled away- but he was simply too stunned to do so.

“Toya, that means “I love you too.” And it’s ok to blink y’know?”

“Y-yeah.. sorry- can we do that again? So I can kiss you back this time of course…”