#i’ve always just felt that it would be a hard thing for me to get into if i weren’t high

[kurooh]

PROFESSIONAL ( AT LOVIN’ ) !

⊹₊˚. HAWKS’ BDAY 2024 — after six months of being his press agent’s friend with all kinds of benefits, keigo struggles to find a way to tell you that he can’t keep up his side of the agreement any longer. / or, his heart’s been in it since the very beginning.

word count: 14.3K (um….please read🧎‍♀️)

warnings: 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, friends with benefits -> lovers, angst, unprotected sex, creampies, cunnilingus, drinking (everyone is mid twenties), dirty talk, squirting once, office sex.

xoxo, juno: happy LATE birthday to keigo <33 WOOO first fic of 2025 and it’s the longest one i’ve ever written.. inspired by the weeknd’s kissland! hope you enjoy, love you guys :,) 🩷

“this pussy of yours is pretty fuckin’ greedy, huh?”

“how could i not be when you always fuck me so g-good?” the filthy words rush out of your mouth in a surge of euphoria that has taken over your cognitive functions and renders you clinically cock drunk. in this state, things you’d normally never agree to are suddenly more alluring than a shiny trinket to a nesting bird. sex on the roof of the heroes’ safety commission is outlandish and obscene (you’d used those words when keigo had first brought it up in jest) — but here you are getting plowed by none other than the no. 2 hero of japan.

“aw, dovey,” keigo coos, gloved hand closing around the slope of your neck and tugging you back into his chest, “you’ve always got the best compliments, don’t ya?”

“ah, r-right there!” you gasp, eyes rolling back into your skull as your third orgasm of the half hour boils in your tummy like magma in an explosive volcano. “shit, kei, ‘m gonna cum again..”

“heh, go ahead ‘n let it out for me,” the heel of his other hand digs hard into the plush skin above your pubic bone and the crude slapping of skin against skin grows louder. “c’mon, baby, cum all over this cock. show me how good you feel, yeah?”

“yeah,” you whimper, desperately throwing your ass back onto his cock to get him even deeper, “oh my god, keigo, fuuuck—‘m cumming!”

it nearly sweeps you off your feet, the strength of your blissful orgasm leaving you shaking violently and clenching uncontrollably on keigo’s cock. his teeth sharply sink into his lower lip when he quickly pulls out of you, lamely stroking himself to completion above your ass and spraying strings of ivory onto your skin. your body is slick with sweat and now cum, but the messiness of the situation doesn’t hit you quite yet — you’re busy trying to catch your breath while he hangs his head lowly behind you.

keigo still holds you upright on legs of jelly, lightly beating his wings to help stabilize himself. watchful gold eyes sweep over your body, doing a once over and admiring every inch of you. he’s always considered you as the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, and has always felt lucky to touch you — so why does he feel so damn unfulfilled? it’s probably a form of karma; keigo hasn’t ever had a consistent relationship, all due to his own actions. so many of his old girlfriends had clashed with him over his neglectful habits — his inability to give them time, attention, and effort. all of his relationships began positively, then quickly deteriorated into toxicity he’d grown tired of dealing with.

he’d been single for a year, and went without sex for longer. if he didn’t always have the press looming over his shoulder and scrutinizing each of his damn movements, he would’ve been able to get his dick wet sooner! keigo would certainly never admit it, but the total deprivation has been a good thing, allowing him to reset and understand why those relationships had completely gone downhill. at the time, he’d pettily blamed his girlfriend or the new guy she’d moved on with.

you let out a tired puff of breath and break away from his hold too soon just to look at your phone, which is sitting on top of keigo’s jacket. “so, my lunch break isn’t over just yet. we can hit the sandwich place around the block if you’re up for it?”

god, you’ve got that lazy smile playing on your lips like it always does after he’s made you cum. how is it possible for someone to look so elegant even as she buttons her blouse and wipes cum off her ass with a spare napkin? his brain literally short circuits when you hand him his jacket, plush lips shaping around a word. words. didn’t you just say something? maybe his post nut clarity has faded into obscurity, or he’s lost his hearing from how hard he just came.

“keigo,” you sigh, snapping your fingers in front of his face and briefly contemplating slapping him out of his stupor, “is the light on upstairs?”

a shiver jolts through him despite the fact that the weather’s warm, and his disassociated eyes finally hone in on you, standing right in front of him. “yeah, sorry. what’d you say earlier?”

you shrug on your suit jacket and slip into your heels. “i’m still free. we can grab sandwiches around the block if you’d like.”

so thoughtful. his heart swells happily at the prospect of eating lunch with you. it always does, usually accompanied with a flip in his stomach, whenever he tags along on something you’re doing, whether it’s eating lunch or sorting through lengthy documents after the office closes.

“sounds good. are we walking or flying, dovey?” your favorite sex petname rolls off his tongue naturally, and after months of this arrangement, you’ve stopped correcting him.

“let’s just walk,” you say decisively, wrapping the used napkin in another, “it attracts less press, showbird.”

☆ ☆

still thrumming with the sensations of sex, keigo walks into the restaurant behind you, piping up to place his order and then to swipe his card for the lunch. he dutifully waits at the table while you stand at the counter, glancing at your phone every now and then to alleviate the impatient boredom that accompanies most edible purchases. keigo allows himself a moment of respite, and instead of looking at his phone, he looks at you — particularly the way your clothes hug the slopes and curves of your body, much like he does when he’s coming down from an orgasm.

it was exactly eight months ago when keigo had first laid eyes on you. he knew right then and there that under no circumstances would he allow his old persona to shine through or mess things up between the two of you. for the first two months out of those eight, keigo had befriended you (with much encouragement from his friend mirko, bless her) and spent time getting to know you as a person over friendly lunches and the occasional drink. he’d committed each of your stories to memory and marked your birthday down on the calendar, something he’d never done for anyone else before. the beginning of everything was after one of those rare drinks that had landed you in keigo’s apartment and sitting criss-crossed on his bed, discussing your unlucky love life.

he’d listened with rapture as you pored over the freaks you’d met and gone out with in detail, mistakenly trusting your friends to set you up with someone nice on a blind date. in their defense, you’d drunkenly mumbled, it’s not their fault that there’s so many people catfishing. one inebriated conversation led to another, and you’d happened upon the fact that neither of you hadn’t had any good sex in a very long time. in the morning, you came into work late and sore all over, but also newly enlightened. for the past six months, you’ve successfully maintained a friends with benefits relationship with keigo takami, the no. 2 hero of japan.

“this one’s yours. here’s the receipt,” you push him a tightly wrapped sub sandwich and his tab.

he catches the sandwich after letting it spin on the table like an arrow on a game spinner, then crumples the receipt. “why don’t you believe me when i say i enjoy paying for you, hm?”

you sigh after a bite. “it makes me feel like a sugar baby . . but also, i can pay for myself.”

“so you’re either saying i’m old or rich,” keigo chuckles when you roll your eyes dramatically, “i know you can, but just let me spoil you, dovey.”

you knew it was a losing game the moment you brought it up, cheeks heating a little at the implication of his words. maybe being his baby isn’t that bad. conversation comes to a comfortable standstill as you both dig into your sandwiches, crumbs falling to the table and making a small mess. when you look up to pause and wipe your mouth, a laugh tumbles out before you can stop it.

“what?” keigo asks confusedly, holding his sandwich tightly and going so far as to swivel around backwards in hopes of pinpointing whatever made you laugh. 

you wrap a napkin over your fingers and lean across the table. instinctually, keigo leans in for a kiss, only to be a little more than heartbroken when you swerve to the side and dodge it to instead dab at a streak of mustard across his chin. the sudden intimacy and close proximity cause the apples of his cheeks to turn rosy in embarrassment. “did you just lead me on?” he asks when he notices you giggling at him again, voice taking on a playful and petty tone. “because it totally feels like you did that on purpose.”

“no, keigo,” a wide smile spreads across your face at his usual antics, “you were the one eating so quickly you got mustard all over your face! someone had to clean you up.”

in an instant, his voice drops an octave, becoming low and sultry. “you keep talking like that and i’ll clean you up.”

“i— we’re in public!” you exclaim, a dull ache pulsing between your legs at the thought of him using his tongue on you. 

he shrugs noncommittally, feeling triumphant now that he’s briefly flustered you. “public or not, you know you love it. now eat your sandwich.”

“way ahead of you,” heat floods your cheeks as you pick up the sandwich, feeling dirty because of the slick pooling into your underwear. keigo doesn’t understand how easy it is to get you worked up, whether it’s with his words or the mischievous footsie he keeps playing under the table with you. “if i come across a headline about this conversation, i’m gonna kill you.”

☆ ☆

“late night?” keigo hums, shattering your concentration on the current task. startled and disheveled, you glance up just in time to catch his typical smirk. his gold eyes shamelessly rake up and down your body as if he’s spotted something he wants—no, needs—to claim. however, his raunchy ogling comes to a screeching halt when he hones in on the shadowy dark circles beneath your eyes.

“the latest,” you blow out a peeved breath through pursed lips, doing your utmost to avoid looking out the window. it’s completely dark outside, the sky an inky blanket of night and stars over the city. “i’m fucking swamped.”

it comes out bitterly, and keigo cautiously steps forward, wings twitching nervously behind him. that well-groomed mess of vermilion feathers at his back seems to have a mind of its own, constantly betraying their owner by displaying his emotions so openly. 

“what, you coming to rescue me?” absentmindedly, you swish around your empty coffee mug. not a single drop flies over the edge, the porcelain totally dry as if it was never used.

“c’monnnn, you know i’m always up to rescue you,” he teases playfully, gently tugging the mug out of your grip and setting a reassuring palm down on your hunched shoulders. “i’ll get us some coffee and help you out when i get back.”

“i highly doubt that you’re qualified to deal with PR work, keigo.” a small though rascally smile plays on your lips, corners flicking up as your sour demeanor starts to mellow out. 

he sticks out his tongue and steps out of your office, heading to the kitchen. as his feet quietly pad along the hard carpet, he considers your recent behavior — last week you were fucking around on the roof and then getting sandwiches like it was nobody’s business. keigo was seeing you around the office and outside of it, but the time he’d been spending with you had decreased dramatically over the past few days. the coordinated lunch breaks and escapades were no more, and keigo’s been caught up wondering why. now, the reason for this couldn’t be linked to anything he did or said — still, it’s impossible for him not to overthink.

“god, you’re a lifesaver!” you groan joyously as keigo sets down a full mug of coffee in front of you and away from your laptop and notepad. “thank you for this.”

“slow down, you haven’t even seen the things i can do outside of making coffee.”

you rotate your laptop once he finally takes a seat in front of you, insistently pointing a finger at the various tasks on your metaphorical plate. “if i give you some work, you’ll have to do a lot of proofreading.”

keigo nods, and his eyebrows suddenly pull downwards in a mix of playful confusion and surprise. “wait, is that a virtual shrine dedicated to me?”

“what?” you mutter, squinting your eyes as you frantically look over the computer screen to no avail. “oh, shut up. just start reading while i finish up the rest.”

there’s a pause and a beat of silence as you both settle into your respective assignments.

then, “i actually came to the office because i missed you a little.”

“you what?” you laugh increduously, licking a finger to aid you in flipping through paperclipped pages. his eyes follow you, from the moment your tongue darts out to wet your skin and then flicks through pages you skim to find what you’re looking for.

“well, i haven’t seen you outside of work in a while,” keigo sniffs, tearing his eyes away from you and refocusing on the words on the screen. at the risk of sounding too vulnerable, he throws in something disgustingly horny to save himself. “was just wondering about my fuck buddy.”

fuck. he’s really cringing now, throat instinctually closing up once he feels waves of nausea crashing over him. but you don’t even bat an eye, too busy setting papers aside in different stacks and barely paying attention to him. “oh, yeah. i’m sorry, it’s just that a ton of people have been dumping so much work on me.”

“so that’s why i’m reading a drafted article enshrining endeavor as number one?” he grins, briefly catching your eyes. you’re not quite sure if it’s the exhaustion finally catching up or something else, but your stomach flutters when you automatically meet his gaze. loose papers drift to the floor, falling right past you. 

“yep, that’s why,” you laugh nervously, snatching up the papers so forcefully that they crumple in your grasp. keigo’s always so damn charming, and it affects you more now that you’re so tired. right?

“you want some dinner, dovey?” the affectionate pet name lingers in your mind, echoing loudly until it finally fades into a memory from a while ago. the transition of his affectionate voice into one choked with unadulterated pleasure is seamless, leaving you breathless in an instant. a glance at his wings has you sloppily picturing them fanned out above you and frantically beating the air as keigo ruts his hips into yours . . god, what’s gotten into you? he certainly could.

“i want you,” it slips out before you can stop it or even control it, words laced with a silent desperation only he can detect. “uh, i mean—”

“bold words,” a wolf whistle trills out into the air, reminding you that you’ve now started something you won’t be getting out of easily. “sure you can handle what you’re askin’ for, baby?”

“don’t act like i haven’t countless times before,” you retort, voice a little weaker than you’d like. it’s frustrating, the influence he has over your body — he hasn’t even said anything meaningful and yet heat’s surging to your cheeks while a shiver of excitement ripples through you.

“riiiight. aren’t you the one always saying you can’t handle it? ‘oh, keigo, please! i can’t, i—’”

the endless teasing is just too much — it makes your blood boil, gets your pulse racing, and absolutely does what it was intended to do. your full mug of coffee tips off the edge of the table and spills when you slam the laptop shut, leaping forward to rapidly close the distance between you two. your lips, slightly sticky with coffee, crash onto keigo’s hard, causing your foreheads to knock together too.

it’s a palpable invitation, one that he eagerly accepts without hesitation. his strong hands settle firmly on your hips in an attempt to stop their slight tremble, fingertips pressing into the curve of your waist. he pulls you into his lap and you fall into sync with one another just like always: keigo slips his tongue into your mouth while you tug at his blonde curls. impatience curated by time apart and characterized by frustration has the air in the room sparking with white hot electricity that’s strong enough to cause a power outage — you’re so close to finally scratching that unbearable itch, at least until it comes back tomorrow with much more ferocity.

keigo draws back with a knowing smile, lips curling up. “we should stop, dovey.”

a thin, glossy string of saliva connects your lips to his. you’ve got this desperate, needy look written all over your face, which crumples petulantly as you consider the possibility of being left unsatisfied. something purely horny twists in his chest, alongside his still yearning heart — keigo fucking loves being in control, being the only one who can give you the satisfaction that you so desperately need, but the thought of being something more resurfaces in his mind again.

it always comes to him at the worst times: right now, during a sexual moment, or before he falls asleep and when he opens his eyes to daylight in the morning. it’s eating him up inside, and he’s already too far in to stop — or is he? no, he isn’t! not if he finds a way to extricate himself from the suffocating casualness of this mess and advance whatever’s left into a real relationship, one that’s abundant in love and adoration. the evolution of the relationship hinges on the timing of his love confession, so he’ll definitely plan to wait until you’re not holed up in the office and on his lap looking like you’re about to shed tears.

“i c-can’t,” you gasp breathlessly, heart pounding in your ears, “kei, please— i need you so badly, i’ve been waiting so damn long.” 

and who is he to deny you, when you’re begging so beautifully?

“so you missed me?” keigo murmurs, pressing kisses to the column of your throat and savoring the way you softly gasp. this is his moment. he’s going to slyly frame a question for you, and when you answer it correctly, he’ll spring his confession onto you and then give you what you’ve been dying for.

“god, yes,” a moan rushes out from between your lips, head tipping back to give him easier access. with his nose pressed into your skin, keigo blissfully inhales the faint wisps of your favorite perfume. eight months later and you’re still wearing that scent daily, ever since he complimented you the day he met you. “you know i did, keigo.”

“what’d you miss the most?” he smirks between open mouthed kisses, guiding you straight to the answer with his warm hands that slip under your shirt and languidly caress the small of your back. 

“your cock, t-the way you fuck me,” you groan, unintentionally shattering his plan into pieces; but he doesn’t let it show, chuckling into your neck as he rapidly snatches them up and off the floor. it’s okay, he’s okay. all he has to do is ask a few more questions and offer up some multiple choice answers — in doing so, he’ll have a chance to tell you how he really feels.

“mmmm, is that all?” 

your eyebrows furrow in confusion and you tug him back by the hair, scrutinizing him with eyes clouded by lust and nothing else. a carnation colored flush sits high on his cheekbones, and his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows down a pesky i love you. not now, not here — this isn’t the right moment.

“keigo, why are you questioning me like my boss does?” he blinks, averting his eyes to your glossy neck, shining with his saliva in the dim light. it smells like coffee now, and he’s wondering if it’ll ever get cleaned up, dark liquid overflowing and soaking through the carpet, straight into the floor. he doesn’t want to be like the coffee, forgotten about and lingering in the air since it had fallen off the desk without you having caught it.

keigo knows you — he always has, and it’s too easy to pick up on the unmistakable tension twisted in your question, along with undertones of discomfort and deflection. automatically, he slips back into his typical persona, lips curling into an impish smile while he waggles his eyebrows to emphasize his words. “heh, you’re so impatient. can you blame me for wanting to build things up?”

you visibly relax, plush mouth forming into a pout he wants to kiss away. “i think there’s been plenty of build up. don’t tease me again.”

“yes ma’am,” he replies coolly, lifting his hands into the air in a show of submission. you release his hair and he pulls you into his chest, holding you tightly as he stands up from the chair. it rolls away into a corner, plastic backing hitting the wall with a soft thud just as keigo slams you down on the desk, papers flying every which way. 

“keigo, hah, you haven’t even gotten me naked yet,” you sigh, heat rushing to your face as he sinks to his knees on the hard carpet, his eyes never leaving yours. dexterous, impatient fingers find the clasp of your pants, and he drags them down your legs, along with your sticky panties. 

“i know,” keigo breathes, pulling your thighs over his shoulders and pulling your hips close to his face, “and yet, you’re already fucking soaked for me. aren’t you, baby?”

“yeah, i am,” you whimper, feeling your cunt clench around nothing when he rewards you by spitting onto your clit. “all for you, kei.”

“you’re so cute.” 

you really are, all spread out on the desk, pretty and pliant just for him. there’s not a shred of resistance when he manuvers you closer or teases his fingertips around your quivering hole, ignoring your strained cries for more. dark pupils enlarge against gold irises, and keigo’s wings flutter eagerly as his arousal crashes over him in continuous, steady waves of heat. now that he’s between your legs and focused on his favorite late night snack, the scent of the coffee dissipates along with his thoughts. 

“keigo,” you keen, fingers threading through his tousled curls, “please, just—oh god, stop fuckin’ teasing me.”

a sportive smack! lands on the side of your bare ass, kicking up a few papers when you jolt forward in surprise. “easy, baby. easy,” there’s a low, warning pitch in his voice, and you settle down frustratedly, gnawing on your lower lip. keigo’s never been one to rush when it comes to eating your pussy, even during quickies—you’d be more aggravated if he didn’t always make you cum so damn hard. his face is flushed pink and shining with eagerness as he pushes two fingers inside you, fixated on the way they slide in so easily. 

he experimentally curls them, and a lick of heat washes over his whole body when he watches your face crumple, head tipping back weakly while you tug at his hair. the blond curls are soft between your fingers, giving you something to grab onto when you need to steady yourself. 

“fuckkk,” keigo groans, attaching his rosy lips to your clit and lightly sucking at the swollen, sensitive bud. clumsily, you grind your hips against his mouth, body sweltering as the small office fills with the impolite smacks of his lips and wet squelches of your sloppy cunt. “loosen up for me, baby, you’re too tight.”

a trembly breath leaves your lips as you obediently readjust for him, spreading your legs and trying to relax so he can tug his fingers back. for a moment, he pauses to appreciatively look over his glossy, creamy fingers—he sticks them into his mouth, moaning and squeezing his eyes shut as he puts on a show of swirling his tongue around them like some kind of slut. once he opens his eyes, those piercing gold hues meet your own and he plunges them back inside, making you whimper.

“listen to me, dovey,” keigo murmurs, breath fanning over your wet clit, “i want you cumming hard on my fingers in the next thirty seconds.”

“but—oh,” your voice cracks when he deeply curls his fingers, purposefully interrupting you, “what if it’s not enough? i don’t think i can—”

sharp, pearly teeth lightly graze your clit and make you mewl noisily, the action both a warning and a reward. “yes, you can, dovey,” he utters in a hushed voice, “c’mon, show me you’re a big girl. i’ll be counting for ya.”

with that, keigo dives back in, furiously licking your clit while he roughly curls his fingers into that sweet, spongy spot inside you. it’s probably not serious, but something in your stomach flutters at the thought of disobeying him—if he wants you to cum, you’ll do just that. your hips rock into his tongue, developing a messy rhythm that could possibly rival his own when he’s inside you—he smirks against you, clearly pleased with himself. papers lift into the air, swirling around in a flurry of white as if they’re caught up in a tornado. the source of the miniature storm is his wings, uncontrollably flapping about as he determinedly licks at your clit like a lollipop. 

twenty five. a thin sheen of sweat shines on your forehead, making the skin tacky. absentmindedly, you wonder if it could be possible for him to cum in his pants just from eating you out. he certainly enjoys it enough — whenever he says he’s feeling thirsty or hungry, he’ll end up eating you out for so long you pass out by your seventh orgasm.

twenty. keigo’s absorbed in the smell, sight, and taste of you. nothing’s better than watching you fall apart on him, dewy tears in your eyes as you fight back overstimulation or impatience. but this is new: he’s never demanded you to cum after setting a time limit in place. it occurs to him now that he didn’t think far enough ahead to answer the question you’ll probably end up asking afterwards, something along the lines of ‘what would’ve happened if i didn’t cum?’ . . 

fifteen. with your eyes rolling back into your head as your hips lurch off the desk, a bit of drool pours down your chin. covered in a mixture of sweat, spit, and slick, you’re at a loss for words as keigo’s damn tongue rolls over your clit again and again. perhaps you’re too dazed, but you swear you feel him etch the letters of his name into you with the tip of his tongue.

ten. keigo’s pussydrunk, soaking his boxers with precum as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge. his eyes are dark with lust, and the rosy skin of his cheeks and chin is smeared with that sticky wetness he just can’t get enough of. all of your muscles pull taut like a bowstring, and you sob out his name, pushing his face into you as euphoria hits you from every direction and all at once.

“kei, oh my god, ‘m gonna fucking cum,” within seconds of your frantic gasps, you abruptly gush on his fingers, hard enough to push them out of you — cum squirts from your cunt, getting onto his face when he curiously leans in to lick it away.

you don’t get a second to come down from your high because keigo roughly licks you through it as if he’s severely dehydrated. “mmmph!” you squeal, hips immediately pulling away from him like he’s given you an electric shock. “wai—wait, keigo, it’s way too much!”

he relents, rolling his eyes as if he doesn’t believe you. “fine, fiiiiine. you win this one, dovey.”

“pants off.”

he quirks an eyebrow but starts to undo his belt, letting it fall to the floor with a soft bang. “you’re so fucking greedy, i swear.”

you throw him a glare, wiping sweat off of your forehead as you sit up, slowly hopping off of the desk. 

papers fall all around you, quietly crinkling as they hit the floor and surround the desk in a sloppy circle. your lips press into a thin line as you take the sight in, mildly exasperated by the mess you’ll force him to clean up. “on the desk, keigo. tuck your wings in too.”

he laughs in disbelief, used to calling the shots when it comes to sex, “so demanding, baby.”

you fix him with a serious look, crossing your arms over your chest while papers ride the dying currents of air made by his wings. keigo clears his throat and folds his wings close to his back, “yes ma’am.”

his flushed cock is rock hard, bobbing as he settles onto the desk; it’s fraught with veins and beautifully curved to one side, something you’re endlessly thankful for when he’s inside you. above him, you’re dripping wet and ready to take him deep — keigo shudders when you grip the base of his cock, carefully balancing yourself on the desk so that you can easily sit down on it.

“holy—oh, shit,” he curses, abs clenching beneath his clothing as he forces himself to keep his hips down. if you want to take control, he’ll give it to you — anything you could ever want is immediately yours. bleary gold eyes clear up and hone in on where you’re connected; your pussy swallows his cock whole like it’s nothing, leaving him breathless.

you swallow, gnawing at your lower lip, “i’ve fucking missed this, kei. been s-so long.”

memories from your most favorite escapades rush back to you so quickly your head spins, momentarily distracting you from the task at hand. there’s a beat of silence before keigo grips your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he borderline begs you, “baby, c’mon, fuck me already.”

“don’t tell me what to do,” you breathe, placing your hands in the center of his chest to hold yourself up, “you don’t get to do that right now, keigo.”

“god, you’re gonna kill me.”

maybe you won’t, but your hips will — they start to move until you’re bouncing roughly on his cock, letting his tip bully itself against your cervix. it’s the kind of kiss that only the two of you can understand, filled with affection and an hungry obsession for more.

for what seems to be the hundredth time, this mahogany desk is christened with more sex. skin claps against skin, filling the room with the same applause that echoes in a theater after a successful show; the whole building is empty, and it’s only your window that’s flooded with fluorescent light in the otherwise dark night.

“dovey,” keigo moans, voice cracking on the familiar pet name, “if you keep going like this, i’m—i’m not gonna last much longer.”

you don’t answer, eyes squeezing shut against the burn of exhaustion setting into your muscles. handsy as always, he grabs at your tits, pulling you further on top of him and taking a hardened nipple into your mouth.

the sharp edges of his pearly teeth drag against your skin as he sucks, golden eyes shutting once he hears your whiny moans grow louder. you’re fluid and all too smooth, riding his cock into oblivion while working in these little humps against his pelvis that don’t disturb the rhythm you’ve built up. your clit drags across his skin deliciously—shit, it’s possible that you could cum together.

“haah, baby,” keigo trembles beneath you, wings spreading out and quivering against his will. “i’m so damn close, i want—” it nearly sounds too intimate, but he ignores the voice in the back of his mind and focuses on his impending orgasm that’s fighting its way out of him. “shit, i just want you to cum with me.”

sensitivity creeps up your spine and makes your body ripple with a shudder, “r-rub my clit ‘n i will, kei.”

everything happens so damn fast; it doesn’t take long for your body to respond to his frenetic touch, and you completely fall apart on his cock, triggering his own high. while your cunt desperately grips him like a vice, he’s shooting endless ropes of cum deep against your cervix. ultimately, it was pointless for him to fold up his wings — they’ve fought against him like usual, strewing more papers around the room and knocking objects off of your desk.

“d-don’t move just yet,” he wheezes, holding your hips in place the moment you try to retreat, “just stay here for a second, dovey.”

a mixture of slick and cum is smeared in the wispy beige hair that adorns his pelvis, and he looks at you pleadingly, cheeks a blotchy pink. it’s cute, but not nearly convincing enough for you to stay much longer than half a minute. “c’mon, i’ve got some stuff to finish up.”

begrudgingly, keigo lets you go and winces as you pull off of his cock. it flops lamely against his stomach, cum dribbling down the sides and adding to the creamy ring around the base. he sighs, unsurprised by your eagerness to depart — his thighs are cooling now that you’re no longer sitting on top of them.

“that was good,” you say, voice layered with praise as you stand on the tips of your toes and peck an appreciative kiss to his cheek, “let’s get started on sorting papers, shall we?”

you’re already across the room before he can grab your waist and show you what a real kiss feels like, slipping through his fingers like fine grains of sand each and every time. 

☆ ☆

rules are the stitches in the seams of anything, always there to hold things tightly in place. it’s natural to break a few every now and then, but what if there are some that should be broken? perhaps they tend to hold things back rather than securely in place.

“okinawa’s just beautiful,” keigo says wistfully, reminiscing about white sand beaches and the bird’s eye view of colorful tourist umbrellas dotting the shoreline from above. there’s a small glitch in his memories that adds you to the scene in a bikini, sunbathing on a towel while he convinces you to come swim in the water with him. he hears himself say something impulsive, but he doesn’t regret it. “maybe we can go on a trip there together. i’ll fly us.”

you stir your drink with a straw, watching the alcohol whirl around ice. “ah, i think we should build up to that, keigo. you’re forgetting that i’ve never flown around that far with you before.”

“we could always change that,” he replies, voice suave. “nighttime is the best time to fly.”

“someday i might just take you up on it,” a laugh spills out of your mouth after a gulp of sweetened tequila, and keigo’s face softens. one of the things he loves most about you is the fact that you’re not afraid to be yourself around him, never once hiding a smile or laugh. “anyway, is there anywhere you haven’t traveled?”

“hmm, let me think,” he raises his fingers to his chin and ponders momentarily, although the answer had come to him the moment you’d started to ask the question. “well, there’s your house.”

you shake your head, nudging his wrist with your own. “noooo, i’m talking about other countries and cities. haven’t you flown out of japan?” 

“only to okinawa,” he supplies, wings twitching anxiously. whenever he brings up your home in the city or worse, him going to it, you always clam up or push him away. granted, it was a boundary line you’d marked in the sand when you’d gotten into this reciprocal relationship all those months ago. escapades have taken place everywhere but your home—he could count on one hand the amount of times he’d mentioned doing it at your place, only to end up on a random rooftop or in an empty alleyway. ever the quick learner, keigo learned not to bring it up. but now, when he’s considering all the variables involved when it comes to confessing to you, he can’t help but feel that it’s necessary to see your house at least once.

sweat rolls down his spine and he unconsciously tugs at his fitted shirt, feeling the heatwaves brought on from both the liquor and the crowded atmosphere of the bar. there’s so many people walking behind the two of you, so much noise, so many bodies all in one space — he feels a little trapped.

“i’ve never been,” you say, derailing his train of thought as you drain your third drink of the night and then flag down the bartender for another. “it’s supposed to be a great vacation spot, though.”

he wipes away the sweat from his forehead with his arm and finishes his drink before nodding your way, wings fidgeting behind him. “it really is, dovey. you wanna take off after another drink or two?”

two glasses slide on the counter, the sides dripping with condensation and cold to the touch. it’s nice to feel in his hands, and he feels his nerves calming after a few long sips. “sounds good,” you answer, feeling hot yourself. the edges of everything in the room seem to blur, thanks to the halos circling the dim bar lights. “you might have to carry me out of here, though.”

“oh, i don’t mind,” keigo answers with a smirk that you can hear in his voice before looking up at him, “but only if you promise you’ll hold on tightly.”

“yes, keigo,” you drawl, scooting your barstool a few inches closer to him. he follows your shameless eyes, tracing your weighted stare to the small gold chain around his neck. it makes a tinkling sound when keigo loops a finger beneath it, hazy eyes meeting your own.

“can’t stop staring, can you?”

you automatically roll your eyes and look away, although your heart starts to race with anticipation. it should be an innocent question, but keigo’s words roll off his tongue in a way that is loaded with his unique charm and flirtatiousness. in a matter of seconds, you’re overthinking the question and the certain innuendo behind it; your breaths come in shallow pants that are just barely audible, and a finger slips beneath your chin to tip your head up. 

keigo leans in, lips barely grazing the shell of your ear. “gettin’ all worked up and i haven’t even touched you? that’s a first for you, baby.”

just stop it, you think, yet you’re unable to turn away. damn, he’s got you right where he wants you, and he knows it — keigo shoots you a knowing smile when he notices your thighs unconsciously squeeze together. it’s so hot in this bar, and it only grows hotter in his presence; an uncontrollable shiver races up your spine and you shakily reach for your drink. “stop it, kei.”

your words are shaky, and his wings twitch triumphantly behind him, feathers slightly puffing up. the dewy glass slips right out of your hand and splashes all over your blouse, sticky tequila soaking all the way through to your bra and dampening your chest. keigo stifles a snicker and plucks the glass out of your lap, a little bit of liquid still sloshing around inside it.

“that—that was your fault,” you drop a loose ice cube into the remains of your drink and glare at him angrily as he dabs a handful of napkins against your chest, unabashedly looking over the shrinking fabric. now that it’s all wet, it clings to every inch of your chest and emphasizes the outline of your tits.

“oh, but i wasn’t holding the drink,” keigo clicks his tongue and sends you a wink, sweat shining on his forehead. 

“someone has to foot the bill,” you grouse, sourly blaming him for your now stained blouse and sticky chest. then, it hits you—neither of you are drunk enough to leave the bar. after flagging down the bartender and requesting six shots, you look at keigo competitively. “listen up. whoever finishes the shots first wins and doesn’t have to pay.”

“really, a drinking challenge?” keigo grumbles, knowing you have a better chance of winning. normally, he wouldn’t mind paying for you, but you’ve challenged him and might risk covering the bill you’ve both racked up. his head is fuzzy, but one thought is clear: he won’t let you.

“yes, really,” you shoot back, nose crinkling at the smell of the liquor all on its own in the shot glasses. it’s not sweet and there’s no chaser, but you’re determined to fight your gag reflex as it goes down. “ready?”

“i’m ready,” keigo sighs, lifting a shot glass. 

it ends faster than the alcohol was poured. you’re proud to have won, and keigo doesn’t let on the fact that he assisted you. despite the liquid fire burning your throat, you’re happy—too happy; this is the most drunk that keigo has ever seen you, and he’s in the same boat as you, looking for the oars.

he nearly forgets his card when he struggles to his feet and walks out of the bar with you, right into the not-so-dark nighttime of the city. all of the streetlights are fuzzy and the sounds of racing cars are muffled; this is a different area of the city and it takes a moment for you to register where you are in relation to keigo’s apartment.

“dovey,” he says, cheeks flushed a bright red, “do you wanna go to my place?”

strong, possessive hands find your waist and pull you close, pressing your damp chest against his. those gold eyes of his search your face carefully, as if he’s taking in your features and committing them to memory or looking for something he’s intent on finding. 

your hand settles on his cheek and you pull him forward for a kiss on the busy street, not caring about who sees or writes about it. you’re in your own world, thinking of nothing but keigo and his plush, yearning mouth—he’s got the sense to pull away before it goes further, vaguely gesturing for you to turn around. when you oblige, he wraps his arms around you and under your own, holding you securely against his chest.

“i’ll treat you to a little night flight.”

vermilion wings beat the air powerfully, kicking up dust and litter along the sidewalk as keigo lifts you off the ground and into the sky. you’re shocked and speechless as you look over the city from above, thousands of buildings endlessly illuminated with light and color from the entertainment district. “it’s beautiful up here,” you breathe, feeling a little less drunk now that chill air washes over your face and cools you down. “why didn’t you invite me up here sooner?”

keigo laughs, riding on the wind and becoming one with it. “i did, you just never took me up on it. as to why, i don’t know.”

everything’s so much clearer from up here. the view is impeccable, and the air is fresh, free of the different scents of the city — exhaust fumes, restaurants, cigarettes, the occasional incense store. you’re shivering, a little too cold from the breeze blowing through your damp blouse, but being pressed against keigo’s warm chest makes it more bearable. something prods at the back of your drunken mind, a thought you’ve pushed away each time it arrives.

keigo thinks he’s slick. he thinks you don’t notice his lingering gazes, the odd way he tries to snuggle up to you every time you finish having sex, or the acute tenderness written all over his face every now and then when he’s talking to you.

but you do. you notice it, each and every time—in fact, you know exactly what all of this behavior stems from, but you choose to ignore it. clearly, keigo is in love with you. it’s evident in his actions and body language, yet he hasn’t actually said anything. it’s so damn easy to notice and understand because you feel the same, you’re just better at hiding it. something about the idea of a relationship with the no. 2 pro hero of japan is daunting — not only because you’re his agent or you’ll constantly have to face the public, but because there’s a possibility that transitioning into something more from being friends with benefits may be too dramatic of a change. 

“oh, fuck,” keigo groans, getting lost in the myriad of lights and buildings below. he doesn’t know where the hell his apartment is and isn’t sure if he has the time to fly around for a half hour looking for it.

“what’s wrong?” you ask worriedly, suddenly aware of the fact that your legs are dangling in the air. in order to preserve his pride and sensitive ego, you don’t bring up anything about him dropping you, but your body tenses.

“it’s the shots,” he grouses, speaking quickly, “they’re gonna come back up.”

“where’s your apartment?”

“i don’t know,” keigo answers, and now you can hear him starting to gag as he forces the contents of his stomach back down. “i can’t keep flying around much longer . . sorry to cut this little flight short, baby.”

“it’s okay, just don’t get sick,” you reassure him slowly, trying to pinpoint your own apartment. surprisingly, the building is a minute or two away from you, if he flies fast enough. “keigo, we’ll head to my place. see that dark building right there, near the red billboard?”

he nods, and the waves of nausea evaporate instantly. after months, he’s finally going to see your apartment—he’s now leagues closer to successfully confessing his feelings to you. keigo’s heavy wings slice through the sky as he hurdles toward your apartment; while the speed is steady, the course is not. from below, people watch as something wobbles through the sky, shifting awkwardly from side to side in a way that isn’t at all graceful . . or intimidating.

you assume he really has to throw up, when it’s quite the opposite. “k-keigo, see that balcony with the potted plants? there’s only one pot of flowers.”

“is that yours?” he asks, struggling to control how giddy he is. “i see it.”

☆ ☆

with the solid, familiar ground of the balcony beneath your feet, things around you are a little steadier. still, the alcohol buzzes persistently in your head and makes you giggle over nothing. it’s warmer now that you’re out of the sky, standing close to keigo and surrounded by all of your potted plants. a pleasant tingling sensation courses through your limbs as your body wobbles, adjusting to being out of the air and the new thoughts that rush into your head.

everything’s still a little fuzzy at the edges, a reminder of your tipsiness and disorientation. keigo wraps a supportive arm around your waist when you nearly stumble to the ground, quietly giggling at your own actions and sighing contentedly in his grip. there’s a beat of silence as your body meshes into his, the kind that settles between two people who’ve just shared a long day, and it feels so natural that your mind absently drifts to two pairs of shoes beside one another and two cups of coffee in the mornings—perhaps you didn’t notice the routine you’ve slipped into, one so innate that it makes everything else feel a little less important.

“hey, did i mention how sexy you are when you’re drunk, dovey?” keigo hiccups, wings quivering as he leans on you for some support, struggling to balance just like you are. his knuckles nudge into your side gently, grin widening as if he’s waiting for a reaction from you. the playful edge to his voice falters momentarily, and you exhale through your nose, shaking your head in disbelief.

“ugh, you must’ve had much more than i thought,” you laugh, kicking the doormat up and retrieving the brass key from beneath it to unlock the door. it’s dark out here on the porch and the same inside, leading you to awkwardly jam the key into the lock.

“you always blow me off,” he sighs ruefully, smile dropping as he notices you using the key upside down. “what, do i embarrass you or something?”

“i-it’s not that,” you breathe, tensing the moment his chest presses against your back and his hand envelops yours to help you with the key. goosebumps rise on the tender flesh of your arms first, then all over your chest, beneath your damp blouse. you recover once the lock gives, sliding the heavy glass door open and catching your breath. “kei, you’ve always got something to say to me.”

“you, of all people, have the power to shut me up whenever you want,” keigo teases, following you into your quaint apartment. instead of appreciating the moment, his mind races to find an answer to the million-dollar question: why were you so intent on keeping him out of here? even in total darkness, the place is cozy, shelves adorned with knickknacks and décor that suits you. totally lost in concentration, keigo’s wings bristle and he accidentally knocks something off a shelf, but manages to catch it in his hand. you’re in the middle of saying something, but he doesn’t even notice, his eyes completely lighting up at the sight of the object.

“is this that glass bird i gave you all those months ago?” 

a nervous laugh rushes past your lips and you nod, hand falling away from the light switch. “yeah, i thought it looked nice up there. it’s pretty.”

“wow, baby,” he gingerly puts the figurine back in its place, elated by the possible significance that this little glass bird holds. “if i’d known you liked it that much, i would’ve showered you in gifts.”

in the middle of unbuttoning your blouse, you trip over your own foot, and keigo, ever the hero, catches you as gently as he did the figurine. his fingers splay across your bare side and you blink up at him, faced with another small gap that’s dying to be closed. “i know what i want as a gift,” you utter, voice low and sultry. the words seem to hang in the air like more of a promise than a request.

keigo can smell the liquor on your breath and the temptation that accompanies it—without a second thought, his lips are on yours and he’s pushing forward with alcohol buzzing in his veins. he’s so full of hope, believing the best over what he’s considered a sign of something more; it feels so right to kiss you like this, with his hands spanning your bare waist and tugging gently at your waistband. it doesn’t quite occur to him that he is inebriated and therefore may not be thinking as sharply as he would if he were sober in this situation. 

you shove forward, pushing him hard into a wall and nipping at his lips hungrily. despite being a little bothered by him being in your apartment, you can’t say you’re not interested in fucking on your own bed for once. a shaky gasp leaves you when you pull away for breath, stomach fluttering delightedly at the hardness of his cock pressing into your thigh.

his breath hitches in his throat, hazy mind racing a thousand miles an hour. the question leaves his lips with more urgency than intended. “i—shit, you really want me to take you right here?”

“in the hallway?” you laugh, astonished. “i’d much prefer my bed, it’s easier for you to fuck me as hard as you want.”

desire and lust conducts your actions, has you dropping your blouse to the floor and unclasping your bra next. each article of clothing falls to the floor in a heap, forming a trail leading to the bedroom door. keigo follows your lead, wings jittering with anticipation as he crosses the threshold. billowy curtains blow up and around the window, lifted by the night breeze, and your room is dark, the details barely visible: keigo notices the many pillows on your bed (so that’s why you were on his ass about buying more than just one) and the full length mirror off to the side.

keigo stops to glance at his reflection in the mirror, fraught with the sculpted curves of muscle—each line a testament to years of hard work and dedication. dark hickeys litter his tanned skin, all left behind from the heat of many moments. momentarily, his eyes shift from the glass to you, perched on the bed and waiting for him. his fingers subconsciously graze over one of the marks, just as he recalls one of your rules, a line that had been drawn in the sand early on—no marks, nowhere near your neck or anywhere at all, even if people couldn’t see them. 

it’s a curious little thing, isn’t it? you clearly have no qualms about marking up his body, but you never let him give you some in return—he hasn’t voiced it, not yet. he exhales softly, feeling the ache between his legs flare once you call his name expectantly. it’s like a switch flips, causing his mind to sharpen and his pulse to quicken when he steps toward you.

bathed in opalescent moonlight, you sit back against your makeshift throne of pillows, eyes raking over him shamelessly, as if you’re looking for something else to sink your teeth into. vermilion feathers puff up and shake themselves out as the bed dips beneath his weight. “come here,” he beckons you lowly, with every intention of making you his. “you’re mine, aren’t you?”

now mussed with abundant wrinkles, the bedspread shifts beneath your bodies as keigo slots himself on top of you and hastily kisses down your neck, lightly nipping at the tender skin, just enough to elicit soft moans from you. doubt melts into desire, lacing his ministrations with something more urgent. for six months, keigo has never seen or left a single mark on you, and tonight, that’s about to change—you’ve already broken the biggest rule you had by bringing him to your apartment, so how much further could this go? 

“yeah, ‘m all yours,” you whine, back arching off the bed when he bites at the soft skin of your tits, tongue lapping away the sticky tequila you spilled earlier. it’s so different—he can’t believe he went this long without making any objections. 

things are heating up fast, and that haziness from the liquor creeps up on both of you, blurring your thoughts just enough. his hips chase yours into the bed, and he eagerly grinds his hardened cock against your thighs, all over them. your voice cracks slightly when you try to moan his name, impatient as always. but keigo decides to take his time with you, kissing and biting longer than usual—he’s in no rush, not yet.

it’s intoxicating in every way possible, causing your body to swelter and thrash beneath his own. keigo’s moving fast, delighting in your pleasure and drinking in every reaction unapologetically. fuck, to think you’d denied him and yourself for so long—he should make it up to you somehow, shouldn’t he?

“dovey,” he pants, fingers slipping under the fabric of the panties appreciatively, “you wore my favorites?”

crimson fabric adorns your waistline, threaded with soft lace. for lingerie, it’s pretty comfortable: it doesn’t floss your asshole like a thong or g-string does, something you’d told keigo when you tried it on in the dressing room. he knew he’d be buying it the moment you stepped out with a bright smile on your face. seeing it on you now is surreal, and he nearly creams his boxers at the sight of it, wings conveying his thoughts for him through a tremble.

your hips rise up and off the bed so he can pull away the last bit of fabric that covers your body. “yeah, but it doesn’t matter now,” you titter cheekily, shockwaves of arousal shooting straight between your thighs.

unceremoniously, your legs are thrown open and keigo’s wings flutter in amusement, always the first thing to react to whatever you have to say. “it matters to them,” keigo comments, jerking a thumb back to point at his pesky wings, “fair warning, this place might be a mess by the end of this.”

“so long as you help me deal with it tomorrow, i don’t mind,” your fingers swipe his cooling spit off your chest, and you’re a little startled as you press at a fresh hickey. it’s sticky, skin now sensitive and tingling in a way that’s just right.

fierce as always, keigo doesn’t waste any time diving between your legs, eager to fuck but even more so to eat your pussy. glistening strings of slick stick to the tender skin of your inner thighs, connecting them to each other thinly until he licks it away. “mmm, dovey,” he moans adoringly, and your pulse quickens, “taste so goddamn sweet.”

keigo’s a proud pussy eater, the filthiest and best you’ve ever met. he could be gasping for air with his face covered in your cum and yet, he’d still have something utterly nasty to say. unapologetically nose deep, he slurps loudly at your soaking cunt and pins your antsy legs down over his shoulders. 

“ngh, keigo,” you thrash forward, thighs squeezing his head like a vice while your hips uncontrollably buck into his face. “please don’t stop, don’t fucking stop—”

“keep squirming around like that and i will,” he grunts, one hand pressing you down into the bed while the other pushes between your thighs. those tenacious gold eyes of his are hooded now, gleaming rapturously as he devours everything you have to give him like he’s been starving. loud, sloppy slurps soon fill the room, falling into cadence with your whiny moans; scarlet feathers ruffle in response to his most favorite sounds, and his hips rut carelessly into the mattress, desperately seeking friction.

your head falls back into the downy pillows, jaw dropping slackly as you unsteadily sneak a hand down to your clit, fingers seeking to rub a lustful itch away. keigo’s fingers wrap around your wrist and snatch it away from your pussy, instead guiding your hand to his head in a show of acquiescence. 

“don’t go doing that,” he groans, pulling up for air and pressing a thumb to your swollen clit hard enough to make your eyes roll back into your skull, “use your words instead, dovey.”

you weakly nod his way, and a sudden, swift slap is delivered right to your clit, the force behind it causing you to see stars. a twisted yelp tears from your throat, and you’re doe eyed when you tearfully glance down at him, chest rising and falling rapidly.

“gotta work on using your words, baby,” keigo coos, thumbing away a stray tear from your cheek. “jus’ trying to make you understand that i need you to tell me what you want.”

there’s a dark edge to his voice that makes the apologetic tone he’s taken on seem ingenuine, almost a little mocking. and yet, you let out a sweet moan, leaning into his touch with a hushed, “yeah, kei. i understand.”

still reeling from the tingling impact of the pussy slap, you guide his head back down between your legs and unsteadily grind into his mouth. he greedily drinks you in, smacking his lips like he can’t get enough of your honeyed taste, and unconsciously pulling you closer. his fingers rub tight circles into your throbbing clit, occasionally pinching the bud to elicit a scream or two before letting go.

keigo had always been taught not to play with his food—but when she’s quaking against his face and sobbing out his name over and over, he just can’t help himself. he’s had a perpetual  mean streak that he’s only ever unleashed during sex with you, taking an overwhelming satisfaction in fucking you dumb and then teasing you about it. he notices the way your thighs tense at either side of his head, the way your head falls back whenever he tenses his tongue.

your clammy fingers claw through blonde curls, saccharine moans spilling from your lips with each ravenous push of his tongue through your folds. it’s a push and pull rhythm that is nothing less than addictive, dragging out the air from your lungs and leaving you utterly breathless. 

“g-god, keigo,” you keen loudly, shoving him down without any regard for his ability to breathe, “need you to—i need you to fuck me with your tongue.”

he groans in response, shamelessly humping the bed now that the ache between his legs has become too prominent to ignore. it flares dangerously every time you say his name or look at him with that blissed out expression written all over your face . . fuck, now you’re telling him exactly what you want and pushing him around, something he’s always enjoyed. his tongue slips into your awaiting cunt and pushes deep, tasting even more of you once he finds that puffy, spongy spot inside of you that makes you clench up every damn time. 

your breaths come in rushed, frantic gasps that soften each word. “fuuuck, right there—yeah, t-that’s it,” your voice shakes involuntarily, tight with inevitable euphoria. “kei, you’re gonna make me cum, hah—‘m real close, don’t stop, don’t stop.”

you chant those last words religiously, and keigo’s offended that you’re thinking he’d ever want to. “on my fuckin’ tongue,” he half groans, half begs, not sure if you even hear him at all.

keigo doesn’t dare to stop until you finally come undone on his tongue, shuddering uncontrollably as he licks you through your high, nearly passing out from a severe lack of oxygen. you’ve got him in a beautiful leglock that he regrets breaking out of, but seeing the dazed, drunken look on your face when he comes up erases the thought from his mind. the entire half of his lower face is covered in your cum, and heat floods your face when his pink tongue darts out to clean up his lips, all while holding your lidded gaze.

a few sanguine feathers float around your face, falling from the air like snowflakes and lightly settling on the bed like rose petals. it seems to make the moment warmer, more romantic as if this is your first time with him—in hindsight, it would’ve been nicer to christen the relationship with a bed of rose petals and scented candles scattered around the room. instead, it was something that happened fast and right after conversations about ex partners.

you pout at him as he positions himself on top of you once again, pressing a wet kiss to your mouth. instinctively, you lick away the mixture of spit and slick he leaves on your lips, tasting yourself on your tongue momentarily. it’s bittersweet and a little syrupy . . maybe he really isn’t lying about you tasting like candy. your thoughts fade away when you catch a glimpse of his vibrant wings — you’ve always seen them, but not like this. this time, you’re up close to them, so close you can see the downy barbs and delicate vanes of each individual feather.

“are your wings . . sensitive?” you ask curiously, voice carrying the barest note of reverence as your hand tentatively inches over his shoulder. after each and every covert tryst of yours, you’ve seen keigo smooth out the feathers or greet you in the morning with stimulating news of his freshly scrubbed wings. but this—touching them—feels like crossing an unspoken threshold.

keigo doesn’t answer, his breath catching in his throat. he’d been in the middle of dazedly tugging his boxers down his body when you’d just dropped a miniature bomb on him. this is the first time that he’s been this astonished, features mellowing profoundly. soon, he finds his voice and uses it, words intertwined with an unexpected tenderness: “ . . it’s alright. they’re just a little sensitive, heh. nobody’s ever touched them before.”

as if they understand you’re talking about them, his wings shift toward your fingers, obviously inviting you to touch them. this is certainly new — for the first time, his defiant wings are actually yearning to be touched, even though they get a little choosy when it’s him who’s brushing his hands through the feathers. gingerly, you reach forward and your hand disappears into the mussed feathers, fingertips brushing lightly against the sensitive skin beneath. the apex of his wings is abundant with small, downy feathers that quiver at your touch.

his eyelids flutter shut and he emits a shy moan, swallowing a sudden heart-shaped lump in his throat. courage swells in your chest and you push further, awed by the all-encompassing softness that meets your fingers. you’d expected them to be coarse, rough from years of flying and smelling earthy or musky. the faint scent of mango wafts through the air, stirring up a sense of familiarity and comfort in your chest, reminding you of all the times he’d protectively wrap his wings around your body as if to steady you. 

“they feel so nice,” you murmur, feeling his cock throb against your thigh. it draws you back into the moment, where you’re naked beneath him with anticipatory legs sprawled open. “so . . soft.”

keigo’s buzzing when you experimentally stroke your fingers through the thin feathers, an intimate form of worship that is only understood between the two of you. “you, ah, didn’t expect them to be?”

a wind created by his flapping wings kick up your curtains and make the metal rings clatter on the bar they’re hanging on. “i thought they’d be a little rougher,” you purr, voice smooth and sultry as your legs lift, locking tightly around his waist. his v-line is visibly sharp and hard to the touch like cut marble against the pillowy skin of your thighs, muscles flexing as he guides his cock to your soaked pussy. 

“i’ll show you rough, dovey,” keigo huffs, smearing his cock with your slick and pulling your legs away from his sides. he’s going to fuck you up, and he can’t do it properly in this position—your feet are thrown haphazardly over his shoulders, thighs folded tightly against your chest. he’s painfully hard, leaking sticky precum all over and trembling by the time he pushes the tip of his cock between your folds. your response is immediate; an eager moan slips out of your mouth, hips bucking impatiently onto his cock.

“damn, baby,” his chest heaves tirelessly, skin flushed pink and covered in a thin sheen of sweat, “you’re ready f’me, aren’t you?”

you look up at him with dewy eyes, electricity shooting through your every nerve. “i-if i was made for—ah—anything, it was taking your cock.”

god, you can’t just say shit like that and cluelessly think he won’t actually fall in love with you—he was only asking for a simple ‘yes’, but now he’s got hearts in his eyes as he finally pushes inside you, swallowing down the sudden urge to blow his load this fast. pulsating, gummy walls wrap around him and seem to suck him deeper without him even moving; he weakly presses his head into your shoulder, gasping frantically as he tries to adjust to the grip you’ve got on him.

“f-fuckkk,” he stutters out, regaining his cool composure after a moment despite the room feeling like a sauna, “i’m gonna hold you to that, you better not forget it.”

he’s relentless, going from zero to sixty in a second with no thoughts of slowing down — he’s jackhammering his hips, curved cock ramming right into your sweet spot and french kissing your cervix. you’re dripping wet, slick pouring down your ass and making each thrust slip ‘n slide all the more smoothly; the bed creaks ceaselessly beneath the weight of your bodies, groaning so loudly it occurs to you that it might just break. but that isn’t even a problem, not with keigo, who’d drop a ton of money on something you could just express the slightest bit of interest in.

“h-holy fuck, keigo,” you gasp out, back arching off the bed, “i could—oh my god, i could cum just from this.”

“yeah, dovey?” he grins, voice tight as he quite literally plunges deeper into heaven. “jus’ from my cock?”

sweat beads on your forehead, making your body swelter with endless steam that seems to vaporize any inhibitions you still had after all the drinks. “nghh, w-wait, ‘m gonna cum—”

“wait?” keigo practically barks out a laugh, shaking his head ruefully at you, “there’s no waiting. i want you to cum right on my cock ‘n i’ll fuck you through it, dovey.” 

you nod with mascara infused tears streaming down your face, legs quaking uncontrollably. everything seems to happen at once — a twinge of pain takes root in the backs of your thighs just as the built-up tension inside you snaps into thousands of sparks, finally igniting your long awaited orgasm.

keigo forces himself to keep his eyes open despite the fact that he’s risking an early orgasm, balls clenching at the sight of you: your lips form an o shape as euphoria washes over you, making your body quiver frenetically. he swallows dryly, closely rocking his hips against yours so you don’t push him out. 

“kei,��� is the first thing you sob out when you recover, struggling to catch your breath with every thrust fucking the air out of your lungs. you’re sensitive all over, skin prickling with heat that doesn’t cool even with his wings creating a draft. 

he’s straining tight at the seams, heart pounding in his ears as he thinks of nothing but you.

you, you, you.

with your sweet, glossy-lipped smile in the mornings and the voice of a vixen when you innocently call his name. you’re nothing less than beautiful beneath him, clawing at his shoulders and staring up at him with those glazed over, blissed out eyes while your body molds against his. it’s a shape he knows well, one he’s pictured in his head when he’s all alone, one he’s been dreaming about whenever his eyes close.

his breath catches in his throat. “haah, fuck—dovey, i can’t hold it anymore.”

“right fuckin’ there,” your voice cracks into a squeal, “mhm, jus’ cum inside me.”

“you mean it?” keigo asks dumbly, nearly melting at the wild look you throw him in response.

“yeah, kei—shit, ‘m gonna cum again,” the words rush past your lips, urgent as ever and spurring him on to keep going, “i want you to—i need you to fill me up.”

something sweet flashes behind his gold eyes and he tucks his face into your shoulder, breath coming in frantic pants while he gasps your name. you’re practically in your own world, moaning loudly and dragging his slim hips closer to your own. when his cock starts to twitch deep inside you, the heel of your palm digs into his lower back, forcing his tip right against your cervix. he’s burning hot, utterly lost in you with no way of finding his way out — cum spurts from his cock and the spasms wrack his body, each stripping away a layer of him until he’s left with only his heart in his hands. 

“i fucking love you,” it rushes out and he doesn’t regret it for a second, “god, baby. i love you so much.”

your eyes roll back as your body surrenders to the toe-curling sensation of your third orgasm of the night, euphoria hitting you from all directions and rendering you clinically cock drunk. you muster just enough strength to wipe the salty tears away from your eyes, teeth chattering just the slightest bit as you drag in a gasping breath. 

after a moment, you yawn, stretching out your folded body and nudging at his chest to get him to lay down beside you. “ooh, that was great, kei. there’s no fucking way i’m walking tomorrow.”

coming down is the hardest part.

keigo’s shaken to his core by your flippant response to his confession, but most of all, he’s deeply embarrassed to have said something—no, to have thought something this stupid. finally, he’s getting a taste of karma from all of his failed relationships; he wishes that he could allow himself enough pity to ask the abyss of the universe what he did to deserve this. the heat that had once been sexy dissipates immediately, leaving him as cold as a corpse. he rolls over to the side, letting go of you and staring up at the ceiling, laying on top of wings that don’t even have enough life to twitch. pathetic tears prick at the corners of his marked eyes, and for the first time, he’s happy that the lights are off.

“keigo? did you hear me?”

“sorry, i didn’t. what was it you were saying?” he drags a forearm across his sweaty forehead, overlooking the tender inflection in your voice.

“i just . . i don’t know. that was really good,” he may not hear it, but you do. quickly, you clear your throat and tug up the blankets, inviting him to crawl underneath with you. “goodnight, kei.”

he should bite his tongue, but he doesn’t; this is the last time. “goodnight, dovey.”

☆ ☆

after tossing and turning the whole night, keigo finally decides to end the torture at 5:20 am the next morning. it’s still dark out, and he figures that he can easily slip away under the cover of night. he’s got a mild hangover, but it won’t impair him, not when he’s determined to keep it together until he gets back home.

soberly, he absorbs his surroundings and recalls the memories that have been plaguing him for hours. his body tenses, thick cords of muscle pulling taut as if he’s bracing against the impact of a punch, and like it has countless times before, the scene replays in his head again. his emotional, devoted admission of love was something you’d completely ignored—again and again, you’ve only ever shown an interest in his body.

in his chest, he feels his heart clench horribly as he looks over your sleeping form. you’re curled up in yourself under the warm blankets, turned toward him with a serene look on your face that makes it all the more difficult to slip out from under the sheets and into the cold. like a cat, he silently pads into the hallway and collects his clothes as if he was never there. he’s inches away from the back door he’d been so excited to step through last night when he stops in his tracks, head hanging lowly as pangs of guilt hit him like fists. it’s not right to just leave you like this, not without making an effort to say some kind of goodbye.

keigo hesitates in the hallway, feet seemingly glued to the floor. all he can hear are loud alarm bells—every instinct is begging him to leave, to spare himself the imminent heartbreak of going back in that room to see you. against his better judgment, he eventually tiptoes into your room with every intention of giving you one final kiss. at your bedside, he bends forward and presses his lips to your forehead; the kiss is entirely chaste, the brief touch carrying a blend of quiet grief and the tenderness of a love that was bound to fall through.

like most things in his life, this kiss doesn’t go as planned. there’s a momentary flash of blue and white—he’s managed to give you a strong, accidental static shock with an innocent kiss at 5:22 in the morning. you blearily wake up, squinting up at him in confusion and making out the high collar of his hero jacket.

“good morning, keigo,” you stretch under the blankets and reach for his hand, “what—what time is it?”

“it’s early,” he answers unsurely, sitting down on the foot of the bed. his wings droop, vermilion plumes seemingly inanimate. “y’know what, don’t worry about it. go back to sleep, baby.”

“but where’re you going?” you sit up abruptly, eyes narrowing at his fully clothed body. a glance over the edge of the bed reveals that he’s even got his boots on! 

“i’ve got patrol, silly,” keigo picks the easiest excuse out of an array of choices, and you sniff it out immediately. “i’m a hero, remember?” silence hangs in the air for a moment before you slowly speak up, sounding more confused than anything else. “but saturdays and sundays are your off days.”

keigo pauses, tongue sliding over his teeth as he contemplates what to say now that he’s been caught in his lie. like an idiot, he’s managed to trap himself. you scoff, cognitive functions coming to back to life as the final vestiges of sleep fade away into the ruined morning. did he actually expect you to wake up naked and hungover, all by yourself?

“okay, you caught me. i’ve got some stuff to deal with.”

“this early? c’mon, why’re you in such a rush?”

ultimately, it’s best for the both of you if he pulls away.

keigo’s usual smile drops and he sighs, “i’ve got shit to do, okay?”

it’s this early in the morning, and your blood pressure is already spiking in a way that is most undesirable. “are you fucking kidding me, keigo?”

the way you say his name so angrily, so accusingly—it fucking irks him, causing the corners of his lips to pull downwards into a scowl. he’s not really angry at you, he’s angry at himself for causing this dilemma to begin with, but you don’t know that. how could you really know anything about him aside from the way he likes to fuck?

“why are you getting so damn pissy? i’m going to leave whether you want me to or not, okay?”

stark naked, you exit the safety of the bed and make a beeline to your dresser, where you yank open drawers in search of clothes. keigo stands, watching longingly as you pull on some panties and a bra.

“i’m getting pissy because you wanted to take off so i could wake up naked and alone! you didn’t even say goodbye.”

“i was trying to,” keigo argues back, jumping to his feet, “but you were the one who ruined that for yourself, didn’t you?”

“a kiss isn’t enough!” you snap, now covered in a loose t shirt and pajama shorts. “couldn’t you have just waited a few hours? maybe then you could’ve told me why you were leaving.”

“what the hell? so you’re saying i need a reason to go back to my own house?”

“i don’t see why you think you can lie to me!” your voice raises furiously, words sharp as daggers, “i’m not just your agent, keigo. i know you, i care about you! don’t you get that?”

it’s quickly evolved into a dangerous game of catch, the pressure to be the one to drop the ball growing heavier atop his shoulders with each passing moment. painfully, a vein in his forehead pulses from the headache brought on by the hangover and the memories that follow it. it’s been hours and he can’t seem to shake away the pain that gnaws away at him. he’s so stupid.

“yeah, i know you are,” keigo grits out bitterly, “all i wanted to do was leave.”

“so abruptly?” you press him for answers, flicking on a small lamp so you can see him clearly. deep wrinkles span the entirety of each article of clothing that hangs on his body, but it’s the dark circles under his bloodshot eyes that makes him look unusually sloppy, getting you to pause as you take the sight of him in. concerned for his wellbeing, you soften, body relaxing. “what—keigo, what’s wrong?”

“it’s just the hangover,” he squints defensively, backing away and into a corner, “anyway, you got your goodbye, didn’t you?”

your gentle, worried face falls away. it hurts more than any injury he’s ever gotten, but he has to keep the walls up to protect himself from the pain even though guilt slips in through the cracks like mustard gas. with a pinched sigh, keigo backs away from the wall, wings limply hanging behind him as he prepares to exit your bedroom with no intention of ever coming back.

he’s blindsiding you, lying to you out of nowhere and slipping through your fingers like steam, too elusive for his own good. without a second thought, you close the distance and grab firmly at his wrist, a gesture that would’ve worked once. “i can’t do this anymore,” he mutters without looking over his shoulder, snatching away from you as if he’s been burned. “i just . . i can’t.”

“what’re you—what do you mean, keigo?” he looks out into the distance of the hallway, focusing on a specific floor tile and tracing its grooves so he doesn’t have to see your face. just from your voice, he knows you must be absolutely crushed. for courage, he allows himself a steady inhale before stepping past the threshold and leaving you in the lurch.

“this,” keigo turns, gesturing wildly and spitting out the words as if everything that’s happened in this room is horribly filthy, “it’s bullshit, all of it. i’m done, got that?”

there’s a beat of silence, and keigo stays a second too long.

“keigo, you’re breaking my heart here.”

you’re probably referring to the sex, aren’t you? surely you’re disappointed by the fact that you’ll no longer be fucking the no. 2 hero, petting his wings and calling him by a name few are able to.

“oh, come on,” he looks over you sourly, shaking his head as his eyes span the entirety of your body, “you’re pretty. you’ll find yourself a new fuck buddy, it’s not that big of a deal.”

immediately, he regrets saying it, feeling a rush of nausea in his stomach—he doesn’t want you with anyone else.

you blink back tears, his stare suddenly invasive and hurtful. “i don’t want a new fuck buddy, i want you.”

“tough shit,” keigo grunts, wings drooping further down. the longest feathers now drag along the floor, picking up whatever there is to offer. “i’m done being friends with benefits.”

“i just—all this fucking time, i’ve been wasting my time wanting to be with you,” the words tumble out of you bitterly, filling up the space between you with everything you’ve ever wanted to say, and his ears prick, grasping at a possible implication beneath all of it, “god, to think i was afraid we wouldn’t be able to become something more—all of this was a mistake.”

keigo pauses, heart pounding in his ears and possibly affecting his ability to hear. “you’re . . in love with me?”

“i was,” the correction is swift and choked, reverberating straight to his core and making his body stiffen. it hurts more than anything to hear, carrying a horrible weight, the kind that makes him realize you’ve given up on him.

“then why didn’t you—that doesn’t make any sense,” he gasps, the newfound information hitting him like a freight train, “if you were in love with me, why didn’t you—how couldn’t you have said something?”

“what’re you talking about?” you hiss, harshly rubbing away the tears in your eyes with the back of your hand. keigo’s bewildered now, face devoid of anything but shock and some kind of adoration as he seems to process something inside his head.

he stares at you desperately, struggling for the right words, “fuck, dovey, why didn’t you say anything last night?”

“don’t call me that,” you snap, the petname far too fond for a moment like this one, “why would i possibly have said something last night?”

keigo falters, and his voice cracks as the words rush out like a torrent. “i told you that i—god, i fucking told you i loved you. didn’t you hear me?” 

oh.

oh.

his heart squeezes painfully in his chest when the realization washes over your face, making him realize the gravity of this misunderstanding—you didn’t hear him.

wearily, you take a seat on the edge of the bed. he sees the way your spine curves forward, and bites down hard on his lower lip once the first sob slips out of you. in an instant, keigo’s beside you and pulling you into his arms, shaking all over. he doesn’t know what to say, but his voice breaks with endless regret when he finally comes up with something. “i’m sorry, god, i’m so sorry,” tears race down his cheeks and into your hair as he murmurs despairingly, “i thought you didn’t care, i didn’t know—”

there’s nothing more to say. 

keigo tries anyway, brokenly whispering apologies that fade into the air like smoke. his arms are tight around your body, holding you closely — it’s an unspoken promise to never let you go again. for the very first time, he truly melts into you without the walls in the way or the burden of hidden feelings. when you slowly relax against him and your sobs become quieter, something shifts in the air. vermilion wings, once held down by the weight of everything they’ve been carrying, finally come back to life. wings that have had no other purpose but to protect keigo now extend outwards to protect you too, soft feathers cradling you tenderly in the quiet of the morning. just over the horizon, the sun begins to rise, bathing the city in the light of dawn and new beginnings.

[phosph-ate]

Hide Away

Dr. Phosphorus x GN!Reader

Summary: Dr. Phosphorus has you feeling things. You are sure these feelings are one-sided, but after hiding from your feelings you come to realize that is not true.

CW: Suggestive themes, 18+, dry humping, biting, you get freaky in a closet, rick refers to you as kid, you are immune to dr phosphorus but no other details of how/what you are is given, no beta.

WC: 0.8k

A/N: divider by cafekitsune. this is just a random idea; I wanted to get freaky in a closet with the skeleton thus this was born. I do plan on making maybe a little series for phosphorus x reader... And maybe a p2 for this with maybe a fem and male reader... idk I'm bouncing ideas around right now. Also, side note, I've only ever written reader inserts or character x oc, and this show has me wanting to do character x character fics... anyway, let's goooo!

You were crumbling. Fast.

You watched Dr. Phosphorus from across the room. Your eyes wandered from his face to his ribs, down to his belt. You needed to know what he was like. What he felt like. You needed him.

“Are you okay?” Nina nudged you.

“Uh,” You looked away from the man you were swooning over. You were hot. Everything was so hot. “I just need some fresh air.”

You turned away from Nina and walked down the hall. As you continued, thoughts plagued you. The glances you would share with Phosphorus, the small touches here and there. It was driving you insane. You figured you could not say anything. So you kept your thoughts to yourself.

You, on autopilot, found a closet and quickly entered it. You needed to get your mind off of him, and immediately. Once you realized you were in a fucking closet, you had to think of a gameplan to get to your room. Maybe you could handle the situation yourself.

You sat down, back against the wall, and shut your eyes tight. The only source of light coming into the room was from under the door. Other than that, you sat in the dark. You sucked in air and placed your head in your hands. Your world was spinning, leaving you to not notice the door opening.

“This is your idea of getting some fresh air?” The closet door shut and suddenly it was not completely dark in the room. You could definitely make out Dr. Phosphorus.

“Oh!” You jumped and tried to scoot further back but realized you could not get any closer to the wall. “I was just- I’m thinking!” You ended up snapping at him.

“About…-”

You could not handle it anymore. “About you!” You tried to keep your voice down. You groaned and hugged yourself. “It’s always you…” You huffed. “I want- No, I need to know what it’s like-”

“What do you need to know?” Oh, he was smug.

“Everything!” You stood up and looked at him, really looked at him. “I want to feel you; I want you to touch me! Dr. Phosphorus-”

“Call me Alex.” He corrected you.

Your face was burning now. Your eyes widened and you sucked in air. “Alex,” You were begging, “I need you.”

You thought he was smug before. He stepped towards you and his hands reached for you. “Are you sure?” He sounded like he was trying hard to compose himself. To keep himself from pouncing on you.

You nodded, “I’ve never needed anything more in my entire fucking life.” Your voice was barely above a whisper. Dr. Phosphorus grabbed you. His hands grabbed your hips, and he pulled you close to him. You were pressed against the wall, and he stared at you. At least, you were sure that was what he was doing. “Can I kiss you?” You begged.

“Please.” It was his turn to beg. You kissed him, gently on the cheek. You began to pepper kisses across his face and your eyes shut. You moved slightly, getting a better angle, and Dr. Phosphorus moaned. His grip on you tightened and you rubbed your hips into his. He let out a whine.

It was music to your ears.

“I’ve been thinking about you too.” His voice was husky. “Every time you laugh-” He continued, and you stopped kissing him and your head fell back from pleasure, “-and you lean back, I just want to-” He could not control himself anymore. His hips bucked into yours while you kept grinding against him and his teeth scraped your throat.

An airy noise escaped you and your eyes shut tight. You grabbed his coat and held on, knuckles turning colors from your grip. “Do that again. Please, Alex.” You whined. Dr. Phosphorus obliged. His teeth biting at your exposed skin, dragging from your throat to your collarbone.

Chills ran up your spine and you moaned. A little too loudly.

A fist banged on the closet door and neither of you responded. The door swung open. “What the fuck!?” Rick shouted. You ignored him. You felt too good to care.

Dr. Phosphorus kept grinding against you, his grip on you becoming bruising. And then, suddenly, there was nothing. Dr. Phosphorus was ripped from you and thrown out of the closet. You stood there, shocked and horny.

“We’ll continue this later,” Dr. Phosphorus reassured you.

Rick ran a hand through his hair and groaned. “Not in a fucking closet you won’t!” He snapped. “Come on out, kid.” He motioned for you to leave the closet.

“Can I get some fresh air now?” You looked at Rick in a daze.

“As long as you don’t get caught with him outside.” Rick glared at Dr. Phosphorus.

You nodded. You definitely needed to think. And, if Phosphorus was not pulling your leg about continuing later, you could wait for release.

[mywitchyblog]

hello! I really love your content, and I’ve been following you for quite some time. i think your opinions on various topics are very thoughtful and accurate, so i have a question.

i’ve been noticing a subject (particularly on shiftok😭) where many people express their dislike of others scripting traumatic events into their realities, included to create a more intense backstory for them. for example, scripting that they lost a parent when they were younger or went through psychotic depression as a child.

i’d like to hear your opinion on this. do you think it’s okay to script some kind of trauma or disorder? personally, I don’t see an issue with it since it doesn’t affect my life or anyone else’s, but i’d love to hear your perspective on this topic!

Oh, honey, you just brought up one of my favorite rant-worthy topics. Grab a snack because we’re diving in! 🍵✨

My ✨Personal✨ Take:

First, thank you for the love, darling! It’s always a vibe connecting with someone who actually gets it. 💅 Now, let’s talk trauma scripting, because whew, the discourse around this is hotter than Satan’s sauna.

Here’s the thing: your DR is YOURS. Period. Full stop. You can script a Disney princess life or the tragic backstory of a brooding anti-hero—it’s entirely up to you. If you want to script a life-altering trauma, go off, babe. As long as you understand what you’re doing, it’s valid.

Let’s debunk the idea that “scripting trauma is bad”: In your DR, you’re living that experience. It’s not just words on paper; it becomes your reality. So if scripting something intense—like losing a parent or battling a mental health condition—helps you process, heal, or simply add depth to your DR self, that’s your business. Trauma, when scripted thoughtfully, can even be therapeutic. For some, it’s about reclaiming control over a narrative that felt chaotic or unresolved in their CR.

But let’s be clear: this isn’t playtime. You will feel what you script. The loss, the grief, the psychotic depression? It will be as real in your DR as it is for someone who’s endured it in their CR. So, if you’re scripting trauma for kicks or because you think it’s “dramatic,” you might want to take a hard look at your intentions.

The Fanfic Shifters Rant (Aka I Hate These Hoes):

Now let me pop off on these Shiftok clowns for a second. 😤 You know exactly the ones I’m talking about: the “everything’s just a quirky little fanfic” crew who waltz into shifting spaces treating their DRs like a bad Wattpad draft.

These hoes (yes, HOES) script trauma the way they’d order a pumpkin spice latte—casually, without thinking. “Oh, I’ll just throw in some childhood abandonment and sprinkle in an abusive relationship for ✨character development✨.” Like, are you dumb? Trauma isn’t a fucking aesthetic. It’s not “flavor” for your DR backstory.

When these people romanticize trauma, they trivialize the pain that real survivors experience. And worse? They make the whole shifting community look like a joke. Imagine someone who’s genuinely trying to use their DR to heal from their CR trauma stumbling upon one of these idiots? Embarrassing. I hate these hoes with the fiery passion of a thousand suns. They treat shifting like a sandbox where nothing matters and then complain when they end up spiraling in their DR because “oops, I didn’t realize depression would feel like that.” 🤡

I cannot stress this enough: your DR isn’t a fanfic. It’s your LIFE. You’ll live it, breathe it, feel it—all of it. If you’re not prepared to shoulder the weight of the trauma you’re scripting, don’t do it. And if you’re scripting trauma because you think it’s cute or cool? Stay far, far away from me. You’re not just irresponsible—you’re dangerous.

TL;DR (But Make It Iconic):

Scripting trauma is okay—as long as you’re doing it with intention and understanding the consequences.

Don’t treat trauma like it’s a quirky little accessory for your DR backstory. It’s serious, babe. Respect it.

To the fanfic shifters romanticizing trauma: I hate you hoes. Y’all are the reason people side-eye our entire community. Fix it.

Remember, shifting is about creating your dream life, not trivializing the experiences of others or glorifying pain you’ve never lived. Be mindful, stay informed, and, most importantly, don’t be a clown. 🤡✨

[airybcby]

hi! may i request shidou ryusei with the 🍓 and🍭 <33

ofc!

a shidou ryusei strawberry lollipop :)

જ⁀♡⊹｡° what am i to do ?

♡ a/n — for my more than a married couple event :)

♡ content — shidou ryusei x gn! reader, gn! reader, reader has strong feelings for shidou, set in high school, unrequited love :)

♡ synopsis — shidou ryusei was like a hurricane of chaos, and you weren't sure your feelings would survive the hit.

You should’ve known something was up when Shidou Ryusei's name appeared next to yours on the list of marriage simulation partners.

The universe had a cruel sense of humor, pairing you with the one person you’d spent the past few years trying not to fall for.

But it was Shidou—a human hurricane, all sharp smiles and chaotic energy. You’d been swept up in his orbit long before this simulation ever began, even though you knew better.

For someone like him, love wasn’t a slow burn. It was an explosion. And you were terrified of being caught in the aftermath.

The first day in the shared apartment was like stepping into a storm.

“Yo, partner,” Shidou drawled, leaning casually against the doorframe with a cocky grin. “You ready to play house, or what?”

You rolled your eyes, dragging your suitcase inside. “It’s only for a week, Shidou. Try not to get too comfortable.”

“Oh, I’m plenty comfortable already,” he shot back, tossing his duffel bag onto the couch. “The real question is—are you ready for this?”

He gestured vaguely between the two of you, a wicked glint in his eye.

You didn’t dignify that with a response.

Living with Shidou was...an experience.

He had no concept of personal space, always lounging too close or draping an arm around your shoulders like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Relax,” he’d say whenever you stiffened under his touch. “You act like I bite or something.”

You knew better than to entertain him with a response.

But it wasn’t just the teasing.

It was the quiet moments, too—the rare glimpses of vulnerability that he never let anyone else see.

Like when he’d stay up late after dinner, staring at the city lights through the window, lost in thought. Or when he’d talk about his dream of being the best striker in the world, his voice softer than usual.

Those moments were what made it so hard to keep your feelings in check.

One evening, the two of you were tasked with planning a mock anniversary dinner for the simulation.

Shidou, naturally, insisted on making it “interesting.”

“C’mon,” he said, dragging you into the kitchen. “Let’s cook something fancy. How hard can it be?”

As it turned out, it was very hard.

An hour later, the kitchen was a disaster zone, and Shidou was laughing so hard he could barely stand.

“Okay, okay,” he said between gasps. “So maybe cooking isn’t my thing.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, too, despite the mess.

In moments like this, it was easy to forget that this wasn’t real—that none of this meant anything to him.

As the weeks went on, you found yourself getting more and more tangled in Shidou’s web.

Every playful remark, every fleeting touch—it all felt like something more than it was.

And you hated yourself for it.

Because no matter how much you wanted to believe otherwise, you knew that Shidou wasn’t capable of the kind of love you were looking for.

The breaking point came during one of the program’s mandatory relationship check-ins.

The counselor asked the two of you to describe what you’d learned about each other during the simulation.

You hesitated, unsure of what to say.

But Shidou, as always, didn’t hold back.

“I’ve learned that you’re way too serious,” he said with a grin. “But that’s okay. Someone’s gotta keep me in check, right?”

The room erupted in laughter, and you forced a smile, playing along.

But deep down, his words felt like a slap in the face.

Because while you were falling for him, he was just playing a role.

On the final night of the simulation, the two of you sat on the couch, flipping through the stack of photos from your tasks.

“Not bad,” Shidou said, holding up a picture of the two of you from the anniversary dinner. “We almost look like a real couple.”

“Yeah,” you said quietly, your chest tightening.

He glanced at you, his expression unreadable. “Hey. What’s with the long face? You’re not actually gonna miss me, are you?”

You forced a laugh, brushing it off. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

But the truth was, you didn’t know how to let him go.

As you packed up the next morning, Shidou leaned casually against the doorway, watching you.

“Y’know,” he said, his voice unusually soft, “you’re not half bad at this whole ‘marriage’ thing.”

You looked up at him, your heart aching. “Thanks, I guess.”

For a moment, it felt like he was going to say something else—something important.

But then he smirked, breaking the tension. “Don’t miss me too much, okay? I’ll see you around.”

And just like that, he was gone, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Weeks later, you saw him on TV, scoring the winning goal for his team.

He grinned into the camera, all sharp edges and uncontainable energy, and you couldn’t help but smile, too.

Because even though he’d never been yours, a part of you would always belong to him.

And maybe—just maybe—that was enough.

he is the SILLIEST BILLY!!

i hope you liked it!

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

[yeonmuse]

BLUE HOUR | Day 15

PAIRING lyricist/soloist Joong x stranger reader

WORD COUNT |

GENRE Smut, Escapism

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ‼️

SUMMARY wanting to escape the nuisance of his fame and clear his head Joong goes for a stroll through the sleepless city. What he hadn’t expected was he’d meet someone as daring as you.

MORE | Day 15 of the Groupie Love Series

Fame always came with a price, whether it was those that sold their soul or those that worked all on their own to get there, life was never easy. No matter how you achieved it it never became easy, the stress or anxiety never went away, and privacy the one thing you’d wish to have would slip through the cracks of your fingers.

Hongjoong knew that better than anyone, there had been many days where he wished he hadn’t entered the rock scene, yes he loved the music but the constant attention on him wasn’t exactly something he craved. Tonight was the one night where he had finally found some sort of peace, a heavy silence washed over him as he walked along the beach after what felt like hours upon hours of being on his feet performing. He had been walking for so long that the stars and the mood had begun to take the place of the sun and the clouds, blue hour had fallen upon the city.

“You look like you had a rough day.” Someone's voice draws him out of his inner thoughts, he mentally curses himself for not having realized their presence ahead of time but they had seen them now and it was too late to not acknowledge them.

“A tiring one for sure, this is the first time I’ve gotten peace in the last week.”

“You chose the perfect time then, blue hour, it's always beautiful when you catch it at the right time, there’s something surreal about it.” As he finally turned to fully acknowledge the presence of the woman beside him, he fell silent, she herself was also surreal.

“yn, I come here often around this time, and you are?” She didn’t know him? Though hongjoong was relieved to finally be talking to someone that had no idea who he was, after seeing you he couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed that someone as beautiful as you had no idea who he was.

“Kim Hongjoong.”

“Well hongjoong, there's more to the city than just the beach, if you’re looking for more to see. When life gets tiring and you need something to make you feel anything other than that.”

“If I take your word then how about you show me, lead the way.”

“You’ll let a complete stranger show you around the city?”

“I met completely strangers everyday and trust them with far more.”

“Well the Hongjoong, let me show you my city.”

Hongjoong honestly didn’t know what the fuck he was thinking letting a complete stranger show him around the city, knowing his managers would throw a complete fit but in all honesty he didn’t care in that moment. You were like some sort of beacon of light that attracted him to you, and the longer the night went on the more that attraction grew. He didn’t even know if what he had been doing at that moment was legal nor did he truly care. He watched from down below as you ascended the ladder of the apartment building and he wasn’t too far behind, he found howls staring at your ass as he climbed up behind you, how could he not when it was right there on display before him, that of course didn’t go unnoticed by you.

Once the two of you finally made it to the rooftop, Hongjoong was stunned to say the least, by the view of the city. Though he could easily access a view like this in a penthouse or plane, there was something different about seeing it this way, out in the open. Blue hour was a magical time. His gaze then shifts from the view to you, he wonders how you yourself even knew how to access a view like this, his wondering then turned into admiration as he once again drank in the view of you.

“You’re staring again.”

“Again?”

“You gonna pretend you didn’t stare at my ass the entire climb up here?”

“Can’t exactly resist when it’s in full display in front of me, besides it’s kind of a hard sight to miss.”

“Well which view is better then?” Hongjoong was taken back by your sudden boldness, though he was used to women throwing themself at him or acting desperate, she was the complete opposite, you hadn’t once tried to throw yourself at him, and perhaps that was the reason he found himself attracted to you even more.

“I honestly think I prefer the city.” He responds, simply wanting to tease you though that may have backfired on him in the best way possible.

“You prefer that view over this one?” You respond giving a full spin, stopping with your back facing him. Tension between the two was now building, this night had been turning into something he had absolutely not been expecting, but he didn’t hate it.

“This view is also very tempting.” He responds, his eyes now glued to you, you had him hanging on your every move.

“Tempting? Does it tempt you?” You respond finally turning to face him again.

“Should we head back down? You still have more to show me right?” He wanted to end things here, to change the subject because he knew if they got caught you’d be dragged into the life that he himself was growing tired of, but you were making that hard.

“Tell me then what’s so tempting about me?” He watched as you bent your body over the edge of the building, your arms resting on the concrete balcony.

“Fuck.” He mumbles under his breath at the sight.

“Are you tempted to touch it? Or was your mind going further than just a touch?”

“Yn I shouldn’t-“

“Touch me then, go on.” He fell silent, you were giving him a clear invite and as much as he wanted to refute, the way you looked bent over that balcony made any possible self control leave his body.

“Fuck this.” In less than a few seconds he had his hand around your throat and your body pressed to his as he kissed on your neck.

“Can I? Fuck, please say I can?” Hongjoong wasnt used to this, he had never in his life pleaded to fuck anyone mostly because it usually came easy, but here he was aching to have you, to taste you, hear your moans.

“Yes.”

He wasted no time then and there ripping through the fabric of your jeans , it was then that he had gotten the most satisfying view, your legs spread wide as he had you bent over. Once he lifts your shirt and unlatches your bra he lets out a curse at the way your breasts fall loosely from your lifted shirt. It made for all the more satisfaction once he filled you up from behind. His eyes traced your every curve. From the dip in your back to the curves of your waist, but the main visual was getting to watch the way his cock so easily pushed past your folds until he was completely bottomed out inside of you, your tight grip around him immediately pulling a groan from his lips.

“Fucking hell If you keep clenching so much you’ll be full a lot faster than you should be sweetheart.’’ Hongjoong groans as he rests his hands on your waist and his head falls back. His hand wraps around your throat from behind and the other rest easily on the small of your back.

He gazes down at you, eyes full of hunger, he wanted to ravish you, to make sure every time you walked the next week all you would think about was him and the things he was now doing to you. A complete burst of pleasure overwhelms your body and you’d have sworn you saw stars as Hongjoongs fingers meet your clit, he rubbed rough circles against you as he watched how his entire cock pushed in and out of you. He didn’t miss the way your legs trembled or you’d occasionally fuck back against him which needless to say brought a smirk to his lips.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, you keep sucking me in?’’ His gaze had lingered on you long enough to know that you were reaching your limit, too bad even when you surpassed that limit he wouldn't be done with you.

“Shit just hold out a little longer pretty.” He grunts, his nails digging into the skin of your hips earning a soft cry from you which set a fire in his eyes. As the two of you were reaching your climaxes it seemed his thrusts grew rougher, Each thrust getting less merciful, he pushed into you with feverish movement, and he didn’t let up until your cunt was completely full to the brim with evidence of his doing. The two of you came at the same time, he gave a proud smile at the feeling of your legs trembling under him.

He loved the way you seemed to fall apart completely, that. He now had you leaned against the balcony struggling to catch your breath, your hair a complete mess and makeup ruined, the remnants of this encounter lingering all over your body.

[dollfaceksj]

hhh…

omg.🫣 hi..

its been so so very long. i know. i’m sorry. forgive me plz. <3 how is everyone<33

today is 6th of january, 2024 and i just took my first exam of the semester today i feel nauseous</3

i just wanted to swing by and update everyone on how it’s been and wish everyone a happy new year. 🤍

first off, i want everyone to know that i really, really appreciate your support. thank you so much, from the bottom of my heart. sincerely<3

that aside, as 2023 was coming to a close, i turned off my tumblr notifications because my phone wouldn’t stop buzzing and i was trying not to get distracted from school. (so no, im not ignoring yall !!)

but let’s talk about 2024.

i’m going to be honest to y’all.

2024 was terrible. it was a really, really shitty year for me. a lot of things happened and writing just kept slipping out of my fingertips. yall felt the 2024 drought from me and for that i’m so sorry omg. (my acc was dry as hell and i still gained like 1k+ followers yall r insane thank u sm😭)

everything that could go wrong WENT wrong. like damn i got my ass whooped this year!!! that topped off with school made it really hard to even stay afloat, let alone write

plus i kind of underestimated these classes🫠🫠 like i knew it was gonna be a lot but i didn’t know it would set me back this much. yes i’m stoopid

on the bright side, 2024 changed me as a person SO i’m rlly excited to see how i’ll write and how i’ll express myself differently than i have in the past

as of 2025:

currently i’m going through exams and it’s eating me up but when i’m finally through with these, i really wanna write more. i wanna show y’all what more i have in store and i’m far from being done !!

that being said, i have a few wips in the drafts still, some i have been giving small updates and some i haven’t even touched since first writing them. (currently, 2 ongoing commissions & jimin’s the pink pill version.)

plus… bts year??? like i’m gonna be honest, bts being ‘inactive’ was also so rough on me because i’ve always had them and now it just felt idk. different? stressful? especially stepping into a new life after i decided to go to college at 23. i miss them😭

so, i hope you’re excited like me !! i can’t wait to be back ! not saying im fully back steady on my feet but i wanna try to make a schedule for my daily life and try to fit in writing as much as i want🥲 does anyone know any cute like agenda or calendar apps for that?? lmk plsss

have a good year!! see you soon<3

— 🍀

[semetarydrve]

Extra Credit

╭─────────── · · ୨୧ · · ───────────╮

CW: smut, light corruption kink, teacher x student, blackmail

Pairing: teacher!Remus x student!Reader

WC: 3.8k

AN: already thinking abt a prt 2 where remus gets territorial abt yn if this one does well ill try to post it next week

╰─────────── · · ୨୧ · · ───────────╯

“(y/n)!”

Your head shot up from the absent-minded notes you had managed to jot down, barely legible due to your seemingly never ending exhaustion. You looked up to catch your Defense Against the Dark Arts professors rather disappointed gaze.

“Yes Professor Lupin? I’m sorry I didn’t quiet catch that last part can you repeat the question.” He sighed and shook his head.

“It’s quite alright, you can just speak to me after your last class.” A wave of hushed snickers drifted through the room. Your face flushed in embarrassment and you nodded meekly. “Right, well on that note the deadline for the essay for your quarterly paper is due next week! Feel free to seek help after school tomorrow if you’re struggling.” He finished, people rushing to pack their things. You graciously took the opportunity to pack your things and attempt to slip by your professor in the crowd.

Unfortunately for you he’d been watching carefully, he couldn’t help himself. As the full moon drew closer he couldn’t ignore the thoughts plaguing his brain. His perverse fixation on you was far from new, still able to clearly recall the first day he laid eyes on you. You’d walked in at the tail end of the sea of new faces, quietly finding your seat conveniently at the front of the room. He’d watched inconspicuously, thinking that even under the unflattering cut of your uniform you brought on a deep primal urge to bury his knot deep inside of you.

When you finally passed by his desk he called out for you. With a shaky and apprehensive breath you diverted your path to reach him. He was now sitting at his desk shuffling around papers as students filed out, rolling up the sleeves on his cardigan and button up to expose his scarred arms. You pushed down the rather inappropriate thoughts about him that had plagued your mind since he’d begun teaching at Hogwarts. When the last few people had left the room he beckoned for you to sit in the chair next to his desk.

“Don’t worry this will be quick. First off I want to say (y/n) you have been nothing but an amazing student this year. But the last month or so I’ve noticed a decline in the quality of your work and it’s affecting your marks in my course. Is there something I can help you with?” He inquired. You sighed and shook your head, heart dropping at the idea of your grades being lowered.

“I’m sorry Professor. I’ll do better.” You said softly. His kind hazel eyes found yours and he shook his head.

“No need to apologize. I’m telling you this because I want you to succeed in my course. With just a bit of extra credit you’ll be back on track in no time.” His reassuring gaze made you feel more at ease.

“It’s not just your class I’m struggling with. Because of the workload I have I’ve been having trouble keeping up with everything. Truthfully I’m exhausted.” You sighed. It felt nice to be honest about how hard it was to stay afloat in school. He nodded sympathetically and smiled, placing a warm hand on your knee. This action was innocent enough but just the feeling of the physical boundaries between you being broken for the first time made him twitch in his pants. Now that he was close enough he could let your scent ingrain itself into his memory.

“I understand, I’ve been in your shoes. The last year is always the hardest. Perhaps when we meet after class I could offer some help to steer you in the right direction?” He offered.

“That would be very helpful if that isn’t too much to ask.” You replied, feeling relieved your favorite professor was willing to do that. He thanked you for your time and said he was looking forward to helping you later today.

As the door closed behind you he sighed heavily. He absolutely knew the complications of being involved with a student but never had he met one he was so tempted by. He did his best to keep it completely professional but once in a while he’d find himself staring at you. Dreaming of pinning you down and having his way with you. Even your sense of humor and sly way of thinking drew him in. Sometimes he wondered if you noticed his lingering gaze. His hand absently drifted to his crotch, palming at his growing erection. With a frustrated groan he sat up and ran his hands through his hair, attempting to pull himself together. He situated himself at his desk and began dealing with the mess in front of him, checking the clock during his next periods in anticipation of your return.

Finally class was dismissed for the last time and he sat down in his chair. He’d thought of this opportunity a million times but now that it was happening he was unsure of how he’d actually approach it. When the soft wrapping of your knuckles on his door echoed out, he swallowed the lump that had been building up in his throat thinking about you.

“Come in!” He called out. You quietly closed the door behind you and made your way to the seat he had placed in front of his desk.

“Thank you for offering to see me Professor. I was too nervous to ask on my own.” You said shrugging off your robe and pulling out your embarrassingly sparse notes.

“Nervous for what?” He chuckled. The question was light hearted enough but your face flushed. He spoke with such a sly tone, completely different from his nurturing instructor one. It gave you goosebumps, feeling slightly put off by his gaze. Not only did he sound different but his eyes had also lost their softer nature. Now they focused on you pointedly, slowly raking over every inch of your body. Finally he looked up to catch your eyes and you felt like he could read your discomfort.

“I just figured you were busy with all your other work I didn’t want to be a bother.” You replied trying to fill the silence, your eyes trailed to the two scars running across his face. 'i wonder how he got those?' You thought taking a moment to admire the way they enhanced his rugged look.

“Is there something on my face?” He asked chuckling. You shook your head. “And I could never be bothered by my favorite student.” He added making you smile and put aside the feeling that something was off. Perhaps you were just over thinking it because you did have a bit of a crush on him.

“Well thank you. If you don’t mind I have a few questions actually.” You said moving to pull out today’s notes. He nodded and stood up, circling around the desk and standing behind you. He bent down to get a closer look, his hands resting on the back of the chair. You crossed your legs and leaned slightly to the side to give him a better view of the paper.

“I see there’s more than a few things you forgot to write down today. I guess it would be best to start by covering what you seemed to have missed yeah?” He said gently placing a hand on your shoulder. He peered down at the notes from over you and slowly began massaging you.

“Sorry about that Professor. I just zoned out for a second during the lecture.” You stammered, unable to focus on anything but the sensation of his fingers working over your sore muscles. His right hand found its way to the other shoulder as he planted himself directly behind. The grip was strong and comforting.

“You don’t have to be so formal. You can call me Remus for now. And you what (y/n) I thought of an extra credit assignment that’ll fix your marks.” He said quietly as he leaned down to your ear.

“Just one assignment?” You inquired, trying to ignore the feeling of his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. You felt frozen, mostly confused and a bit afraid, but nonetheless a wet spot marked your panties.

“Mhm. Just one. And you could have it done tonight if you do it right. Does that sound good?” You nodded, unable to speak as you tried to process what was happening. You just knew it felt like saying no wasn’t a wise choice. You were in the last half of your final year, maintaining good marks meant everything. “You’re going to be a good girl and do what I say, and be quiet about it. Do we have an understanding?” He whispered, breath labored as he started to smell you break a sweat.

“Is there no other option? This just doesn’t feel right.” You said shakily, not wanting out right confrontation. He hummed pretending to think about it. His hands left your shoulders and came down to rest flat on the desk before you, effectively trapping you.

“You have two options. You can let me ravish you on this desk…” He started, trailing off.

“Or?” You asked afraid to move or look at him.

“Or you can leave and I’ll slowly but inevitably fail you. Assignments being counted as late, maybe even not turned in at all.” He threatened.

“That’s not fair! I’ll tell the Headmaster.” You protested.

“You could try. But he’s far too busy dealing with Sirius Black on the loose.” Even without being able to see his face you could hear that he was smiling. From your perspective he had a valid point. “So what will it be?”

“Fine.” You said quietly. His mind moved a mile a minute as the very situation he had dreamed about presented itself.

“I knew you’d come around.” He purred. “Now be a good girl and stand up for me.” He stepped back, giving you room.

“Yes Professor.” You said meekly, getting to your feet. For a moment you stood still facing away from him, too nervous to look at him. He gently spun you around by your waist. He looked down at your innocent face and felt his cock throbbing. What a beautiful little plaything you were. He captured your lips in a hungry kiss, your hands instinctively reaching for his bicep. The contact made his body feel hot, thinking about how long he’d been fantasizing about bending you over every surface possible.

"I've wanted to fuck you since the day you pranced into this classroom." He said pulling away breathlessly. Your eyes widened and cheeks flushed.

“Really?” You asked, unable to deny the way his words made your stomach flip. You weren’t used to this kind of attention.

“Yes really.” He said leaning in again for another kiss. He could feel your muscles relax, slowly letting your guard down. Good. "Now be a doll and get on your knees."

“But Professor-“

“Ah ah ah. Remember? You’re going to be good and listen right?”

“I’ve never done that before.” Your words came out small and timid. He couldn’t help but smile.

“You haven’t huh? It’s okay I’ve heard I’m pretty good at teaching others.” He joked. You shook your head and he gently caressed your cheek. “Don’t worry you’ll do great.” He said planting a kiss on your lips and stepping back. You swallowed, now painfully aware of your lack of experience.

“Okay Sir.” You said sinking to your knees. He watched as undid his belt and pants, your hands fumbling. You let out a small gasp as you freed him from his confinements. Bigger than expected was a light way of putting it. You hesitated for a moment, feeling a wave of embarrassment flood your system.

“Go ahead.” Remus commanded, his voice no longer soothing but instead dripping with frustration. He watched as you took the head of his cock in your mouth. He unbuttoned his shirt as you slowly inched him down your throat. He groaned and gripped your head with both hands, pushing you down harder. You gagged and he began thrusting slowly, building up speed making your eyes water. You blinked away the tears making your makeup begin to run down your face.

"Is it too much? Am I fucking your little throat too hard?" He taunted. Your fingers dug into his thighs as you fought his grip. He watched as you struggled, spit dripping down your chin onto the white, now almost sheer, button up. Eyes watery and pleading for mercy. The sight made his hips snap forward, almost cumming right then. "Over the desk. Now." He growled, pulling you to stand by your hair and pushing you onto the desk. Any ounce of self restraint or composure had flown out the window. Now all that mattered was getting to break in his new toy. He yanked your panties down. "Spread your legs." You did as you were told and stepped out of your panties as you opened your legs. He raked his fingers over your hips and thighs giving you goosebumps. Your brain reeled, thighs pressed together for relief from the dripping wetness between your legs and the knot in your stomach. He roughly pried them apart and began lightly tracing his fingers on your inner thigh, inching closer to your clit.

"Please." You cried squirming uncomfortably. He smiled devilishly and removed his hand.

"Please what?" He teased.

"Please touch me." You cried, pushing back against him. He watch in amusement as you begged for his touch, tightening his grip on your flesh and pulling you closer. His cock began slowly sliding between the folds of your pussy, just enough to tease you. The feeling was driving him crazy but now that he had you in front of him he’d savor every moment. Without a word he slipped his cock in carefully. You whimpered and he groaned, shocked by how perfect you felt.

“Now I want you to be very very quiet okay?” He breathed, slowly beginning to rock his hips. You let out a barely coherent ‘okay’ as your focus drifted to adjusting to his size. You reached behind and flipped up your skirt for a better view. He chuckled at your eagerness and gently grabbed the back of your head in one hand and pinned one of your wrists behind you with the other. In one swift motion he started pounding into you, your body pinned in place as he picked up a relentless pace. Without thinking you cried out loudly, immediately regretting your actions as he pulled out.

“Please put it back Remus.” You whined reaching with your free hand to guide him back inside of you. He tightened his grip on your wrist and pushed your face harder into the cool wood surface.

“I told you to be quiet but clearly you can’t.“ He said leaning over you. The adrenaline pumped through you at the feeling of being trapped under him.

“I’m sorry.” You cried, not yet daring to fight against his grip. He released you, stepping back and tucking himself away.

“Don’t be sorry, be better.” He said as you slowly straightened and turned to face him. The look of pure desperation on your face drove him crazy. You closed the distance and placed your hands on his chest.

“I promise I’ll be quiet. Anything you want.” You begged watching his eyes study your face. He actually didn’t have an intentions on stopping this encounter, just curious to see how quick he could have you wrapped around his finger.

"Lay on your back, now.” He watched you scramble to take off your skirt and get onto the desk. He stepped between your legs and you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him in for a kiss. His lips worked in sync with yours as he pushed your legs open. He ripped open your top, buttons scattering as he toyed with your nipples before running his hands down your body. He stopped at your hip and the other hand wandered farther down. He ran two fingers up to your clit, eliciting a needy moan from you. He pulled away from the kiss to put his fingers to his lips.

"You even taste sweet princess." He said as he licked them clean. He held eye contact as he began to rub slow circles on your clit. You jolted at the contact and laid back on the desk. He admired your cunt, small trickles down your legs making him chuckle. “Fuck you’re wet I might have to cum in your tight little hole.” He said slowly pushing into your heat. You moaned at the sensation, your walls gripping his fingers tightly. He leaned down and seized your throat with his free hand. You raised a hand to the one around your neck, using your fingers to indicate you wanted it tighter. He smirked and replaced the wary grip with a tight, more restrictive one. The combination of his fingers in you and around your throat was heavenly. He curled his fingers slightly sending a wave of unexpected pleasure through you. He took note of this and continued the same motion. Your eyes glazed over and you nodded fervently.

“Don’t stop. I’m so close.” You mewled quietly.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d think you’re enjoying this. Maybe I’ll have to keep you to myself.” His words sent you over the edge. Biting your knuckle as the pressure in your lower abdomen built up, your eyes fluttered shut as you came on his fingers. He continued his motions, relishing in the feeling of you tightening around his digits. Your body felt hot and shaky as you rode the high. He slowly withdrew his fingers and cleaned them with an eager tongue. His hum of approval bringing a small smile to your face. You slowly sat up and placed your hands on his exposed chest where his shirt hung open.

“What happened?” You asked studying the scars that peppered his body.

“It’s a long story.” He replied as your eyes found his. He leaned in for a kiss. It was deep and passionate this time. His hand slipped behind you so he could pull you to the edge of the desk. You melted at the feeling of your bodies pressing together. His teeth bit down softly on your lower lip as he pulled away. “You’re doing so good for me.” He murmured against your lips.

“Thank you. I don’t really know what I’m doing.” Your bare cunt brushed against his pants as he leaned into you making you jump. He took notice of this and smirked as he began to slowly rock his hips.

“That’s okay, you’re a quick learner.” He said, trailing kisses down to your neck. His warm breath gave you goosebumps. “ ‘Nd I guess you aren’t as delicate as I thought.” His hand wandered down your stomach, stopping between your legs. Using his fingers he spread your lips causing you to involuntarily push back for more. “Don’t move.” He smirked and moved to bite your earlobe as he moved his fingers to your clit. You breathed deeply, fighting the urge to buck your hips.

“Professor shouldn’t we hurry? I don’t want you to get in trouble.” How sweet. You were worried about keeping your little secret.

“Unfortunately you’re right my love.” You watched excitedly as he made quick work of dropping his trousers. He pulled you in for another slow and tender kiss while lining himself up with your entrance. You both let out a sigh of relief as he used the hand on your lower back to keep you close while he slid in.

“Remus you feel so good.” You said in a hushed voice. He replied with a half hearted ‘my god’, his attention now focused on watching his cock slowly slide in and out. Slick with the taste of you. He almost couldn’t look away but the small whimpers coming from you drew his gaze up.

“You’re so beautiful.” He said breathlessly, speeding up his pace and rubbing your clit. You dropped your head back as he fucked you, your orgasm building quickly until you felt like you were gonna explode. You dug your nails into his shoulders and he watched in awe as profanities fell from your lips and your body began to quiver.

“I think I’m gonna cum.” You said, starting to feel overstimulated by his fingers.

“That’s my girl.” He cooed. “I don’t know if I’ll last much longer myself.” His voice faltered at the end as he felt himself getting closer to his own release. Your nails buried themselves deeper in his shoulders, earning a feral snarl from Remus. He liked when you lost yourself in the feeling of him. You might shape up to be his favorite fucktoy. A few more strokes and you were unraveling before him. You writhed and panted under him, unable to keep quiet. He grunted and withdrew, cum spurting on your lower half.

There was a brief pause as he held you.

“Did I do good, Sir?” You asked dropping your head on his chest.

“Very. But next week I’d like to-”

“Next week? I thought this was just a one time thing.” You said looking up at him confused.

“Did I say that?” He asked slyly. He cupped your chin and titled your face to give you a soft kiss. “But wasn’t this fun?”

“Yes, Sir I had a lot of fun.” You said nodding, fighting the butterflies in your stomach. It felt wrong but you could help but enjoy his presence.

“Good. Then you’ll be here same time next week. Now get dressed. And quickly.” He said beginning to fix his shirt. He watched proudly as you did what you were told. After your skirt was on he helped you put on your robes, pulling the front shut tight now that your shirt was basically useless without its buttons. As you opened your mouth to ask him a question there was a soft knock on his door. He shot you a ‘follow my lead’ glance before walking over to the door as you quickly fixed your hair. Professor McGonagall stepped in the room and looked over at you curiously.

“(y/n).” She said greeting you.

“Hi professor.”

“She was actually just leaving our tutoring session.” Remus said.

“Oh well I hate to interrupt Lupin but Dumbledore has requested to see you in his office.” She said giving him a knowing glance.

“Ah I see. Thank you Minerva.” He said turning his attention to you. “If you don’t mind (y/n), I’m going to step out if you’d like to gather your things. We can pick up where we left off next week.” He said giving you a small smile. You nodded, turning to pick up your parchment and other belongings. Your mind raced, grappling with the situation. As you grabbed the last of your things you turned and said goodbye to your teachers.

“Brilliant student isn’t she?” You heard McGonagall say as you left.

“Oh she’s a gem for sure.” Remus replied with a chuckle.

[snoopdogcone]

How did I miss this one! You know I love Ethan and Tobias and this was *chef's kiss*! I just told @cariantha I'm so happy writers have been sharing old fics and now I'm telling you.

“A girlfriend? A girlfriend!” Charlie’s belly shook when he broke into a hearty laugh. “Oh, God! That’s a good one. A decade he’s been comin’ here, and I’ve never seen the same woman on his arm more than once.”

“Now that’s a damn lie,” Tobias defended. “I brought a few of them here twice. I think one even made it three.”  

Oh, Tobias! His reputation is just bigger than life! 😂😂😂

Sure, he would have thought it was himself not too long ago. In fact, he would have worn it as a badge of honor, but he felt differently now. Now... it stung. Did anyone think that he had the emotional capacity to be anything other than a fuckboy?

And we love to see it.

“Yeah, so once again, you’re the Boy Scout, and I’m some degenerate. You’re not the only one with decency, Ethan, and I’m through letting you believe that you are.

There was some serious things between them!

Ethan gazed at Tobias with a knowing half-smile.

“Sure, but you’re not in love with her.”

Tobias swallowed hard, quietly shaking his head. “We’re friends, Ethan... we’re just friends,” he repeated, but at the moment, he wasn’t sure if he was convincing Ethan or himself. “ And what about you?”

“What do you mean...what about me?”

“Do you still love her?”

“Yes,” Ethan replied. “But not in that way. She matters to me, and she always will. I know I hurt her in the past, and I don’t want to see her hurt again. After everything that happened recently? I suppose I'm a bit overprotective.”

“Yeah... I get that. I get all of that.”

Ethan picked up his glass with a smile. “We always did have more in common than we liked to believe.”

😭😭😭

And the text at the end - perfect. I love this story.

Book: Open Heart (Book 2 Timeline) Characters: Tobias Carrick x Casey - eventually 😊, Ethan Ramsey Rating: Teen Words: 1,900 Series Summary: Can be found here. Chapter Summary: A confused Tobias heads to his old watering hole to relax, but uninvited self-reflection gets in his way. He finally gets it under control when Ethan shows up, and the visit isn't necessarily friendly. How does the night end... and who isn't being truthful. A/N: I had so much fun with this one. I'm really enjoying exploring this point of Tobias & Casey's relationship. Participating in @choicesfebruary2024 - Philia (Friendship), a little Eros (Romantic/Passionate) too. :)

Without Warning Masterlist | Tobias x Casey Masterlist My Full Masterlist

Eight Weeks After Chemical Attack

“Uh-oh, look what the wind blew in!” The stout, grey-haired man behind beamed as if he saw a long-lost friend. “Get over here, you bum! Where the hell have you been?”

The Puddingstone Tavern was to Kenmore what Donahue’s was to Edenbrook, and for nearly a decade, Tobias all but lived there. His signature smirk was firmly in place as he sauntered to the bar like a king returning to his domain.

“Has it been that long, Charlie?” Tobias said, vigorously shaking the man’s hand. “I was here last Tuesday, for Christ’s sake.”

Charlie made a show of pulling the calendar down from the wall and turned to Tobias with a grin.

“Last Tuesday, and if this thing is correct, today is Thursday. So, nine days! You’ve been MIA for nine days, and we didn’t see you for a week before that. We’re used to you being here after every shift. What happened? Was it something I said?”

 “You know I don’t scare easily. It would take much more than you to scare me away.”  

“So then, what’s the story?” Charlie pressed, placing Tobias’s favorite beer in front of him just as a dark-haired waitress with crystal blue eyes passed, eager to insert herself into the conversation.

“Word on the street is Carrick has a girlfriend,” she teased. 

“A girlfriend? A girlfriend!” Charlie’s belly shook when he broke into a hearty laugh. “Oh, God! That’s a good one. A decade he’s been comin’ here, and I’ve never seen the same woman on his arm more than once.”

“Now that’s a damn lie,” Tobias defended. “I brought a few of them here twice. I think one even made it three.”  

“Sure,” Charlie shrugged. “But normally, we'd see you with a different one between their visits. I’d believe you were abducted by aliens before I’d believe you had a girlfriend. A girlfriend,” Charlie was so busy snickering he hadn’t noticed that Tobias was no longer laughing along.

“Yeah...” Tobias smiled sadly, “Could you just imagine?”

Charlie left to tend to another patron, leaving Tobias alone with his thoughts. He couldn't even say why he hadn’t been there? It wasn't Casey. He only saw her once, all right, maybe twice a week. Sure, they texted most nights, but that was no reason to stay away. No matter, he reminded himself, she was not his girlfriend. That much he knew was true. So, it was absurd to think she had anything to do with this.

He tried to shift his focus, but Charlie’s barrelling laughter kept replaying in Tobias’s mind. “A girlfriend? A girlfriend!... I’d believe you were abducted by aliens before I’d believe you had a girlfriend!”  Was it that preposterous an idea? Sure, he would have thought it was himself not too long ago. In fact, he would have worn it as a badge of honor, but he felt differently now. Now... it stung. Did anyone think that he had the emotional capacity to be anything other than a fuckboy?

He closed his eyes and took in a whiff of the stale, familiar air. It felt like home, and he should be comfortable here; but he found himself terribly out of place. Eager for a distraction, he reached over the bar to grab the remote control and put on the Celtics game. That would do it! Leaning back in his chair, he was beginning to feel at ease, but not for very long.

Two basketball quarters and two drinks in, Tobias heard heavy footsteps approaching on the worn wooden floor. He didn’t notice when they stopped behind him, but the baritone voice that followed couldn’t be ignored.

Ethan glanced over Tobias’s shoulder and rolled his eyes. “You always did have shit taste in booze.”

Tobias turned, successfully hiding his astonishment.

“This is a New Belgium Trippel,” Tobias said. "It's one of the best craft beers out there.”

“Exactly. A craft beer.” Ethan motioned for the bartender. “What’s the best Scotch in the house.”

“That would be Johnny Walker Blue.”

“I’ll take that,” Ethan nodded. “Neat.”

Tobias waited until Ethan had his drink in hand before he began a conversation. They’d spoken exactly once since the night of the attack, and while the hatchet was buried, the men were miles away from being friends.

“So, what brings you here,” Tobias asked. “You have something going on at Kenmore?”

“No, I just had it on good counsel that you’d be here tonight.”

Tobias raised a brow. “Spying on me? I don’t know... should I be flattered or frightened, Ramsey."

“You shouldn’t be either.”

“Ah! So, you’ve come to offer me a job?” Tobias snickered. “I knew you’d come begging one day.”

“No,” Ethan chortled. “We’re still awake, Carrick. This isn’t a dream.”

“So, then, why did you come to see me?”

Ethan inhaled deeply, taking a long sip of his drink as he pondered if this had been a good idea. Assuring himself he came for a reason, he continued.

“There’s no use beating around the bush. I’ve heard you and Casey have been spending a lot of time together since the attack."

He may have been able to hide his surprise before, but Tobias made no attempt to hide his expression this time, and he was not pleased.

“Whoa... whoa...whoa... Look, I don’t know if you’re keeping tabs on me or on Casey, but either way it’s fucked up. What either of us does with our time is none of your concern.”

“Actually, it is,” Ethan shot back. “Casey... Casey’s on my team, and her well-being matters to me.”

Tobias raised his beer to his smirking lips. “That’s a little above and beyond for a boss-employee relationship. Wouldn't you say? If we're being honest tonight, you may as well admit that she was much more than a resident to you.”

Ethan’s eyes went wide, the his discomfort was palpable. Somehow, both things left Tobias pleased.

“You... you know...about us," Ethan stammered.

“Look, even if Casey hadn’t told me... it wasn’t exactly a well-guarded secret. You underestimate the Boston hospital grapevine.”

Ethan focused on the back of the bar, his face turning red, though he was unsure if anger or embarrassment was the cause.

“Was." Ethan said sternly. "Whatever Casey and I shared is in the past. But she still matters to me. She’ll never be ‘just’ a teammate.”

“OK,” Tobias shrugged. “And what does any of this have to do with me.”

“I’m aware of your... history... Carrick. I know how much you hurt Casey after you stole Stefanie out from under her. But, for some reason, she still had a soft spot for you. And now... with her being so... fragile... I'm just here to tell you - don't take advantage of that, Tobias. Because if you do, you'll have to deal with me."

Tobias stared at his beer, shaking his head with a wicked chuckle.

“That's rich! That is rich coming from you, given your history. What’s the matter, Ethan? Were you planning on making a move yourself? Trying to get any potential competition out of the way?”

Ethan felt his pulse quickening as his lips formed into a line.  

“She’s coping with PTSD, Carrick. I’d never do such a thing.”

“Yeah, so once again, you’re the Boy Scout, and I’m some degenerate. You’re not the only one with decency, Ethan, and I’m through letting you believe that you are. I don’t owe you any explanation, but nothing is going on between Casey and me. I care about her; I care about her a lot. She’s a friend who is going through hell right now, and I’m doing all I can to help her... not take advantage of her.”

It had been years since he and Tobias had been friends, but Ethan could still tell when there was sincerity in his eyes; he could see and hear its presence now, and that put him at ease. The hurt in Tobias’s eyes and the sincerity in his voice put Ethan at ease.

“Good. That's all I wanted to know."

Both men pretended to focus on the game as an awkward silence fell between them. It was Tobias who eventually broke the standoff; rubbing his chin, he let out a frustrated sigh.

“Ethan, I’m glad things are civil between us again, I really am. But the dirt has barely covered the big hatchet we just buried... and you have to go and do this? Don't you see you're overstepping, man...”

"You're right..." Ethan agreed, looking slightly abashed. "I did overstep... and deep down, I knew that coming in. But honestly, protecting Casey mattered more to me than upsetting you or making a fool of myself. So I did what I felt was best.”

“Protecting her... from me?”

“All right, Carrick... give up the alter boy routine. Can you blame me? If you care about her as much as you say, you would have done the same thing if you were in my shoes.”

Tobias shook his head with a sad smile. “You know, I’m far from perfect. No one is. And I’m not saying I haven’t done some messed up shit in the past, but preying on vulnerable women has never been my style, and you know that."

Ethan diverted his eyes, with a question lingering in his mind that needed to be spoken.

“Why her? You’ve been with god knows how many women. Why is Casey the one you can't let go of?”

“Do you think this is because of you?” Tobias blurted. “Because it’s not... it has nothing to do with you. Casey... she's just incredible. She’s absolutely beautiful, and I’m talking about the inside, not the out. She’s brilliant, funny, and kind, and when you’re with her, she makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world... and I’m not talking about me... she makes everyone feel that way. She sees the best in people when most want to focus on their flaws. She’s kind enough to give a jackass like me a second chance to be her friend...and there’s no way I’m going to blow that.”

Ethan gazed at Tobias with a knowing half-smile.

“Sure, but you’re not in love with her.”

Tobias swallowed hard, quietly shaking his head. “We’re friends, Ethan... we’re just friends,” he repeated, but at the moment, he wasn’t sure if he was convincing Ethan or himself. “ And what about you?”

“What do you mean...what about me?”

“Do you still love her?”

“Yes,” Ethan replied. “But not in that way. She matters to me, and she always will. I know I hurt her in the past, and I don’t want to see her hurt again. After everything that happened recently? I suppose I'm a bit overprotective.”

“Yeah... I get that. I get all of that.”

Ethan picked up his glass with a smile. “We always did have more in common than we liked to believe.”

“Yeah, well, don’t let word get out on the street. I have a reputation to uphold, and I don’t need you tarnishing it.”

“Oh, is that so?” Ethan laughed. “Imagine me tarnishing you?”

Tobias met his eyes, and both men chuckled.

“So,” Ethan said. “Are we... still good?”

Tobias shrugged. “You care about her and want to protect her. I want to do the same, so how can I fault you?”

Ethan nodded uncomfortably.  “Well, I should settle my tab...”

“Why? The night is young, and the Celtics are about to go into the last quarter. Why don’t you stay and watch with me.”

“Really?”

“No,” Tobias rolled his eyes. “Yes, really.”

“All right,” Ethan said, sliding back onto his stool. He motioned for another drink, and when it arrived, he raised it to Tobias.

“Cheers,” Ethan smiled.

“Cheers.”

Both took a long drink, then Tobias turned to his... friend?

“Ethan?”

“Yes?”

“I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

Ethan snorted in reply. “Not if you keep saying shit like that. You're not exactly Bogart, Carrick."

The men remained at the bar for at least another hour without an ounce of tension between them, and though they’d never admit it, that made them both happy. When Tobias returned home, he checked his messages one last time after slipping into bed. A smile he hadn’t felt coming spread across his face the moment he saw her name.

He turned off the light on his nightstand but continued staring at Casey's message for some time. Finally putting the phone down, he made himself comfortable. We're just friends, he repeated to himself. He had promised her, just friends, and that's what they would stay... but he was beginning to realize just how how hard that would be.

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

[evansbby]

my opinion on the Blake lively situation

[silkjade]

i haven’t been here much recently, and i’m sorry i’ve only been negative on the off chance i’ve been online, but let me just say one last piece before the end of this month, so that maybe the next might be better….

[jutsuuu]

girl help I’m experiencing

[fingertipsmp3]

Save me skincare routine. Save me stupidly expensive skincare routine in tiny bottles

[rosicheeks]

😒

[sob-dylan]

the cruelest thing about life is that i quit smoking weed before i could ever watch twin peaks its entirety.

[myfirstandlast]

going through answered asks from when i was 18 wanting to hold myself so tightly

[caffeinewitchcraft]

AITA for telling my boyfriend’s coworkers that he’s lying about his body count?

I (35f) have been dating my boyfriend (32m) for four years. It’s honestly been the best relationship until last Friday when it all went down. I feel like I’m in the right, but now I’m wondering if I overstepped.

For context, my boyfriend has been a professional Slasher for about eight months now. He’s always really admired Cryptids, Monsters, and Nightmares so when his application was finally accepted, he was over the moon even if he was starting in a lower position than he initially applied for.

At his company, being a Slasher requires a lot of travel which we knew when he accepted the position. The end goal is for him to get a promotion to at least regional Nightmare (he wants Cryptid, but that position doesn’t have a lot of turnover) but to get that he needs to be in role for at least 12 months OR meet his goals for three months in a row. Once he promotes, we plan to relocate to his new region and “start talking about our future.”

(Side note: no this isn’t about him not popping the question yet. We are both in agreement that marriage comes after financial stability. I run a small business doing scare consults and, while it’s been growing, I wouldn’t call it stable yet. So neither of us are ready.)

I told him it’s completely normal for it to take a whole year before he’s ready to promote and he really should focus on adjusting to the company before thinking about next steps. I used to work for a competitor (I’ve been retired for five years now) and I know it can be hard to go from only taking the occasional human life to having to take over half a dozen a week. It’s not a light workload, no matter how easy it looks in the movies. One of my best friends Slashes part-time and she still only averages about five lives a week despite having done it for years. Especially these days, it can be really hard to meet quota. Humans are getting smarter, no matter what the Council wants us to think.

Anyway, boyfriend didn’t do as well as he thought he would in his first couple months. Totally understandable, of course, which I told him. I suggested he ask his boss if he could be put on a couple team assignments or even a duo until he got the hang of it. That was our first real fight. He thought I was doubting his ability to kill. He brought up how I told him it would take over a year to promote and how I said that this job wasn’t for everyone (His first assignment ended with a 0% kill rate, but that’s a different story). He said it felt like I didn’t believe in him and he said that if that was the case then maybe we shouldn’t be thinking about marriage so soon.

It got pretty messy after that. I felt like he was forgetting that I’d worked in the same field and, arguably, had a lot more experience (not to brag, but I averaged a 98% kill rate). Also, four years is NOT too soon to talk about marriage. He said I didn’t understand how he needed to focus on his career right now. I told him I thought he was taking Slasher too lightly just because it wasn’t Cryptid. He accused me of not respecting him and then things spiraled from there.

We both said a lot of things we didn’t mean and I’m embarrassed that it turned into a bit of a fang measuring contest. I ended up sleeping under the bed for a few nights until he coaxed me out to apologize.

It was a rough patch, but we talked it out. We agreed that, going forward, I wouldn’t offer advice unless he asked and he would try not to take so much of his frustration home with him. He took a weekend off and we went on a recreational haunting trip in the Montana woods.

Things did get better after that. I tried not to give him consults every time he came back from a work trip. He started bringing me souvenirs like roses and cursed puzzle boxes his work said he could have. It became easier just to hang out with each other and it felt like we were back to normal.

But then, four months ago, he came home super pissed because his boss put him on a PIP. (A performance improvement plan.) Apparently, boyfriend had not been doing better at work, he had just stopped telling me when he had a bad assignment. I saw the paperwork he got (he left it in the dungeon under the house, I didn’t go through his stuff) and he’s been missing quota by a LOT. As a junior Slasher, he was supposed to be executing at least 6 people a week, but he’d been lucky to be maiming half that.

Obviously, I had to talk to him about that. We rent our house and, even though I could have afforded the rent on my own, I didn’t want to jeopardize the investments I was making in my business (I was in the process of hiring an assistant to handle my scheduling). Plus, we agreed from day one that we would be 50/50 on rent and I would take care of the rest of the bills because I earned more. I felt that if his financial situation was in jeopardy, he needed to talk to me about it.

I tried to approach him a bit differently than last time. I asked him if there was anything I could do to help. I told him about my slasher friend and how maybe she could give him advice if he didn’t want any from me. But he said he needed to figure stuff out on his own and that if he couldn’t get himself off the PIP then he would go back to work for his dad’s janitorial company.

I let it go. I was worried but I didn’t want to fight again just after patching the holes from the last blow out. It really bugged me that he thought I didn’t believe in him so I committed to giving him the benefit of the doubt. I said okay and asked him if he needed me to meal prep for both of us that week. He offered me grocery money, but I said it was fine since I’d had to deal with a lot of humans breaking in lately and I still had some leftover in the dungeon.

Fast forward a month. Boyfriend got off the PIP super fast. He worked his way off of it over Spring Break and started taking on a lot of extra assignments. In just four weeks he went to Miami Beach twice, New York City twice, and to three separate summer camps. I missed him and it was hard not having him around but I remembered how he said he needed to focus on his career and I tried not to nag.

It was hard not to nag though. With him gone, all the housework fell on me. We rent a 19th century manor, and its upkeep really does need two people. Doing all the chores plus running my business started to really drain me. Even when he was home, he forgot to banish the ghosts (my chore is to kill all invading humans, and his chore is to banish their ghosts) and he never took out the trash. I think he cleaned blood off the dungeon walls once, but then I had to basically redo it because he missed a lot of spots.

But still, I didn’t say anything because he was doing really well at work and I didn’t want to ruin that for him. Even when Humans started breaking in every week, I didn’t complain even though it interrupted my work day.

Last month though, I did ask him if we could move somewhere that needed less maintenance. There were just way too many Humans breaking in and I didn’t have the time to deal with them anymore. Even if I don’t do all the theatrics I used to as a Cryptid, killing humans through fear still takes a lot of time. He asked me if I didn’t appreciate the free meat, and I said I would appreciate it more if I wasn’t the only butchering it.

He said he didn’t want to move because he was really close to getting promoted to regional Nightmare and he didn’t want to take time off work to move. I was so surprised that I couldn’t hide how surprised I was. He saw and got offended. He asked if I still didn’t believe in him. I said that I did, but it was a huge jump to go from an 8% kill rate to getting promoted.

He got even more mad at me for bringing up his stats and he said that he had nearly 80% kill rate since being put on the PIP. I asked how many humans a week he was slashing and he told me I was being too nosy and that was proof that I didn’t believe in him.

I asked him if we could at least hire a ghoul then to keep the humans out of my office and he said he didn’t want to waste the money that we should be saving for our new house. I asked him what he wanted me to do then? I had to take phone calls for my consulting business and it was really hard to stalk humans all around the house while trying to sound like a professional to my clients.

He asked me to be patient for one more month. He said if he met quota for one more month, his boss said he’d get promoted. So I said fine and let it go.

Fast forward to now, almost a full month later.

Last Friday, I attended the Eldritch Conference. For those not in the scare field, the Eldritch Conference is the most prestigious event in our industry. It’s invitation only and is a chance to network with all the big players in the field. Mothman, the Jersey Devil, Bloody Mary and Bigfoot all spoke this year and both my former company, Grudge Industries, and my boyfriend’s current company, Forgotten Summer Solutions, were invited.

I was surprised to get an invite as a solo contributor to the field. However, my consulting firm has really been doing well and I did land a seasonal contract with the Yeti Co-op which I guess is how they heard about me. Plus, I’ve been a speaker before so I think the organizers knew I would behave myself.

I was planning on telling my boyfriend that I was going, but he was out of town on a co-ed sleepover assignment. He usually doesn’t have his phone on during his assignments, so I didn’t bother calling him. I just figured it’d be nice if we ran into each other at the conference if he made it back in time.

Which brings me to what actually happened (apologies for the long post).

So everything went great for my part of the day. I got to network with a lot of individual businesses and even got to reconnect with Blood Mary who I knew back in my Cryptid days. I told her I was dating a Slasher from Forgotten Summer Solutions and invited her to come with me to check out their booth. I thought it would be fun to grab dinner with her after since I assumed if my boyfriend was there, he’d be going out with coworkers which he often does. Plus, I admit, I was showing off a little. I don’t often get the chance to brag about my Cryptid days.

She agreed and we went over to see if my boyfriend was there.

I introduced myself to the people manning the booth. My boyfriend wasn’t there, but a few Slashers recognized my name and greeted me. They were definitely in awe of Bloody Mary (she came in full uniform) and invited us to look at their displays. They had portfolios for each Slasher on the desk as a sort of preview of what their services looked like.

While Bloody Mary looked through the portfolios, I chatted with my boyfriend’s coworkers. They said they were thrilled to work with him and that, even though he had a really rough start, it was impressive how quickly he started meeting his goals. Something about how they talked about his work kind of didn’t make sense. They were talking like he was killing a dozen humans a week, but he’d told me that he was at 80% on his assignments which typically only offer about ten humans each.

I asked them about it and they said that he’d been Slashing during After Hours which is a new goal supplement program his company launched a few months ago. Basically, anyone can sign up for After Hours and the company counts human kills done in uniform as part of their quota. I asked them if this was available to them while they were on assignment and they said no, it had to be done when they had down time. I asked them how my boyfriend was part of that when he was traveling all the time and they looked confused. One of them said that my boyfriend is still getting one assignment per week and is then supplementing his kill rate with After Hours.

At that point, I was even more confused. It sounded like my boyfriend had been lying to me then, because he told me that he was getting at least two assignments a week. If he was only getting one, then where was he going when he said he was traveling?

Bloody Mary interrupted before I could say anything and asked how their Slashers did their kills. They said that every Slasher at their company is required to use a standard issue weapon (like a machete or axe) for their kills to count. They said their company doesn’t count accidents as part of their quota (like falling or heart attacks).

Bloody Mary pulled me aside and showed me the portfolio she was holding. She said that she was going to give me a chance to explain without them overhearing and showed me the book. She said that a bunch of kills in it looked Cryptid kills. And she said, specifically, it looked like the kills I made when I was a Cryptid. I took the book from her and flipped through it and she was right, they really did look like Cryptid kills. Worse, I recognized a few of the Humans from the past few weeks. They were actually my kills!

Kill stealing is a major taboo in our industry.

I told her I didn’t know anything about this. She looked really relieved at that and said that even though I wasn’t a Cryptid anymore, it would look really bad for me if I was caught helping a Slasher cheat at their job. It could affect my business which she’d only heard good things about.

I’m embarrassed to say that I tried to defend him. He’s new to our industry so I thought it might be a mistake. He might not be trying to cheat, this could be a misunderstanding.

She said she didn’t think so because a mistake would be one or two of my kills mixed in with his, not the entire book.

I counted up how many photos were in the book and, all told, of the 146 kills, at least 100 were mine. I couldn’t really say it was a mistake at that point and I was just staring at his portfolio like an idiot. Bloody Mary asked me what I was going to do because, mistake or not, this looked really bad and could damage my reputation if it got out.

At that moment, another man walked up to booth and asked us if there was a problem. I knew that if I said anything, I would be jeopardizing my boyfriend’s job, but if I didn’t say something, I was jeopardizing my business.

I told my boyfriend’s coworkers that he was lying about his body count. I said I didn’t think that they knew he was doing it, but over half of the kills in his portfolio weren’t his and I suggested they remove it from their display before another Cryptid came by and realized it.

The other man thanked me for bringing this to his attention and asked how we knew. Bloody Mary said that she knew another Cryptid’s kills and I had to tell them that I was that Cryptid, though I was retired now. He asked me if I knew my boyfriend was doing this, and I told him no.

I told him I really didn’t want to get my boyfriend in trouble and suggested that maybe he didn’t know those kills didn’t belong to him because they happened in our house. I was grasping at straws and Blood Mary even looked sad for me. His coworkers looked skeptical but tentatively agreed. The man – who turned out to my boyfriend’s boss – said that they would investigate this thoroughly and apologized personally for his employee’s misconduct.

I was spiraling at that point so I thanked him and said I wasn’t mad, I was just looking out for both of our reputations. He promised to keep it between us and I agreed.

Then I apologized to Bloody Mary because I didn’t feel like eating dinner anymore. She said she understood and wished me well.

I went home and did a quick perimeter search of the property. Sure enough, there were human summoning stones ALL OVER the yard. Which means my boyfriend was intentionally luring humans to our house to get me to kill them so he could take credit. It wasn’t a mistake at all.

My boyfriend came home later that night in his work clothes. As soon he got inside he started yelling. He said he was suspended without pay and that all his hard work was for nothing.

I said I knew he’d been stealing my kills and he almost ruined my reputation. He said they still counted as his kills because he did all the work of luring the humans to our house.

I told him that wasn’t how it worked and he knew it. He said it was the same as setting a trap and I was taking this too seriously. I told him that, as a Slasher, he has to use a weapon to get his kills, not me. He said I was basically the same thing since I had such a high kill rate. I asked him if he was calling me an object.

(My parents exploited me by selling me as a haunted doll through a lot of my childhood and he knows I’m sensitive to being called an object.)

He backpedaled at that point and asked if I didn’t want to buy a house together. He said he was doing it for us and I should’ve understood and not said anything. I told him that when I was a Cryptid I had my pride and would’ve never done this.

He said I needed to tell his boss that he was the one who made all those kills. I said it wasn’t me who recognized them as Cryptid kills and now his boss knew too. He accused me of thinking I’m better than him because I have telekinetic powers and can move through shadows and can possess people, while he’s basically a human himself. I told him of course not and that I worked hard for those powers unlike him.

He got really mad at that and actually charged at me with his machete raised. I don’t think he was going to actually hit me, but I reacted like he was. It was all instinct. I disarmed him and I swear I heard a crack when I grabbed his wrist. I shoved him into the wall.

 He crumpled to the floor and started crying. He said sorry and sort of curled up around his wrist. He said he didn’t ever feel like he was enough for me and he didn’t even know why I was still with him. He called himself a bunch of names and said I would be better off without him.

I sort of awkwardly stood there for a minute. On one hand I wanted to assure him that he was enough and that I loved him, but, on the other, I wasn’t sure I could forgive him. He nearly ruined my reputation, and he embarrassed me in front of Bloody Mary. Plus, I still didn't know where he’d been going all those times he said he was on a business trip and apparently wasn’t.

So I ended up not saying anything. I went to our room and started packing a bag. He followed me. He was still crying as he begged me not to go. He said he would own up to his kill steals at work and he would make it right. He pleaded for me not to leave him and that he would give up slashing.

I told him I needed space to think. He tried to grab me, but I shadow walked out of the house. I heard him screaming from outside and I hurriedly drove away.

Now I’m at my friend’s house and I told her everything. She agreed I did the right thing walking away from him, but when I asked her what I should do she hesitated. She said that my boyfriend wasn’t right to kill steal but, as a fellow Slasher, she understood what he was going through. She said I wouldn’t understand the pressure to meet quota because I was always surpassing mine when I was in the field. She said that a Cryptid could never understand a Slasher.

She also said that nobody would have found out about his kills if I hadn’t brought them to his boss’ attention. She said the only time kills are on display like that is at the Eldritch Conference and by the next one, he’d have had kills of his own. She thinks that if I’d just confronted him at home, he wouldn’t be on suspension.

So now I’m worried that I overreacted when I told my boyfriend’s coworkers that he was lying about his body count.

AITA?

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(I will definitely be posting some of them here in the near future!)

My next supernatural AITA is already up to my patrons!

It's called "AITA for divorcing my vampire husband because he lied about his human job?"

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