#someone call ken burns

[vampirehowl]

do you think pbs has a suggestion box for documentaries

[vanoilette]

୨ᰍ sypnosis. beach day w the main four ! — going to the beach with them.

disclaimers. light swearing, suggestive content.

notes. ugh just got swarmed with tons of homework :( + two upcoming ken fics !

eric cartman.

literally like a guard dog.

everytime he sees someone staring at you for two seconds too long he takes it into account, and attacks them with insults. because as he puts it, the view is only for his eyes.

is drooling all over you but hides it, stares holes into the back of your head, and other places.

besides that he treats you as usual, but with his own kind of attention—such as calling you pretty, his queen. etc. [ im sorry i cant help but make cartman a mix of a bastard and simp ]

asked you to put sunscreen on him, mostly just chills on the beach instead of actually swimming.

sort of follows around everywhere you go when hes not sitting down.

falls asleep while hes laying on the beach chair and and gets a sunburn, is crying to you the next day how much it burns.

screams when he sees his skin peels.

back to the actual beach part, he always holds your hand, even when laying down, as long as your beside or near him at least.

is mean to almost everyone there, especially if their “in his way.”

kenny mccormick.

is all over you, never lets you get even a breath of space.

opposite of cartman, and actually begs you to swim with him.

lets be honest, hes putting his face in your chest, no matter how small or big they are, he just loves em’

doesn’t even mind when other people are looking at you, he loves showing you off because he loves showing other people what they can’t get.

swipes drinks off the bar when other people aren’t looking.

if someone flirts with you or him, he makes it very clear that he is not interested, and if your the one being flirted with he is standing right behind you.

although, if your not able enough to stand up for that, he’ll gladly deal with it for you.

he loves swimming but if you offer to lay down with him, he’ll pass on swimming, just the feeling of being with you is much more of a rewarding feeling then feeling the hot sunlight on him and cold waters.

brings a bunch of convenience store snacks so you don’t have to buy any of the ones they serve there.

calls you his belladonna

kyle broflovski.

brings tons of things, a canopy, chairs, snacks, sunscreen, etc.

insists on putting on sunscreen, puts it on you aswell : ]

even if he is a pretty pale guy.

carries you almost everywhere, he treats you especially special because he doesn’t want you to lift a finger or worry your pretty little head.

is in between, hes fine with swimming and chilling, its up to you.

a bit off topic but he loves when you call him pretty boy, it can get him to do anything, just something i wanted to point out.

if you just so happen to praise him for being so helpful, or taking cafe of you the entire day, he acts as if its not that big of a deal. As humbly as possible.

swimming with him is fun because i feel hes a bit competitive with it. he tries to swim all super far away.

remember that episode where the waterpark floods with pee? yeah, thats what terrifies him.

that takes him a while to get in the water.

stan marsh.

frankly; was not his idea to go to the beach, but once he goes he’s running straight to the water.

the type to hold his breath under water just because.

probably falls asleep when he does lay down after all the running and swimming, or shoves food down his throat.

after his nap wakes up with sand in his mouth and freaks the fuck out.

doesn’t even try to hide it, he straight up swipes drinks off the bar and if someone mentions anything—he doesn’t even spare them a glance.

brings one of the digital cameras and takes photos of you two.

got chased by a dog.

forgets that sunscreen exists and gets sunburned terribly.

as soon as he gets home he tapes the photos on his walls.

mostly a chill guy at the beach.

[softshuji]

Mikey's voice is light.

It's tinkly, a little melodic, a little soft, airy- sounding, like a breeze coming through an open window.

You like how it sounds when he speaks, when he laughs, and especially when he says your name, the little 'chin' at the end he hasn't quite dropped despite being well into adulthood.

You like it even now, a thousand miles away, the tinkly breeze of his voice inundated by the crackle of the receiver, and the occasional shuffle as he takes another bite of a snack on hand.

And he always hums between it, changes position in his bed, an occasional "oof" as he turns over and presses the phone to his ear.

He likes your voice but he's not half as good with the words to describe it. He says it's "pretty" that's it - he likes your accent, the way your mouth forms certain words, the lilting foreignness of his name on your tongue, when you elongate "manjiro" to get his attention.

He's never said it mind you, but he thinks you know it already- or at least he hopes you do. You talk a lot with him, and he's surprised by how much he likes listening.

He's never been the type to slow himself down for anyone, take such a vested interest but it's different with you. He likes the wait, the "uhm" you do before you answer a question, the hum that often accompanies your thoughts.

Like now when you're quiet and he can tell that you're thinking, can almost imagine your eyes fixed to a spot with a frown.

'Hey 'jiro, can I ask a question?' you say now and your voice is punctuated by the rhythmic thump of the washing machine in the room adjacent.

It's a nice sound, helps to ground him sometimes. These almost nightly calls where you're letting him into your space even if it isn't physically. A reminder that you're there, that you're always there.

'Mhm? Yeah?' and he takes a bite of steaming hot taiyaki, winces when the steam seems to burn his tongue and you suppress a laugh at how he curses a "shit that's hot" and takes a swig of juice.

It's almost too comfortable at times like this. You could easily get lost in it- moments that never seem to end, the atmosphere punctuated by a tension that never breaks, a siren somewhere that reminds you of how far the two of you are, the lull in the line where the signal breaks.

And it's almost too easy to say, when you whisper a 'What would you do if you were in love with someone?'

And the silence is palpable, terrifyingly loud.

He stops chewing, eyes widening, a hand half halted in the air as he stares at the receiver, a sinking ache that settles in his tummy.

But he's Mikey, he's manjiro. And he's always known what that meant - the type that never lets anything bother him too much- the type that never cries in front of others- the type that has to be the man you need even if you don't feel like you need him.

'Huh?' he says, a little forced, a lump of taiyaki suddenly caught in his throat. 'You in love with someone or something?'

'Maybe I am. And maybe you know them.'

He lifts an eyebrow, the ache snaking towards his ribs. 'I know them?' and then, a sudden burst of noise. 'Is it ken-chin?! Oh you know ken-chin is in love with Emma-'

'No dummy! It's not ken-chin! I know he's with Emma, I'm not that mean that I'd go after your sisters boyfriend y'know.'

And he laughs unexpectedly at your sudden outburst, and it makes the tension a little easier to bear despite what he knows is coming, a rejection and hurt that he's spent a long time preparing for.

'Oh so not ken-chin,' he says and rolls over, propping his chin up in a hand that now discards the taiyaki wrapper on the bedside table. 'So do I get a clue?'

'No,' you say now, your voice broken by the pop-pop of a car exhausting it's engine outside. 'I didn't say I would tell you who it was y'know. But think...a little closer to home maybe.'

'Oh.......'I get it.' A beat. 'You're in love with Emma!'

'No?! When I said closer to home I didn't mean it like that!' You huff in faux annoyance, and he smiles to himself, the tug of his lips instinctual when he senses the irritation in you, and it hurts to prolong this kind of pain, to slowly tug the band-aid.

'Mhm, you could just tell me yknow, maybe I could help set you up.'

And you roll onto your back, stretch out a hand to the window where the moon sits on a branch, the white ivory of it cracked by the grey mist of the clouds.

'I do not trust you as far as I could throw you when it comes to matchmaking me manjiro.'

'Hey!' he says, a familiar pout as he stretches his hand towards the window on his own side, the edge of his white tank top riding up as he shifts onto his back. 'I'm not that bad. You saying I couldn't find someone who treats you like a princess?'

I could.

You giggle, a slip of a laugh despite the brewing tears. 'I don't doubt it, but no, I don't need you to matchmake me. And besides you're getting off topic. I asked what would you do if you were in love with someone....someone you knew.'

And you sigh, a half stifled thing that you hope he doesn't notice, hope is lost somewhere in the end to end encryption. And he pauses in thought, turning it over on his tongue, the familiar ache, the pain that never ends when he speaks to you, a dread that always follows the searing hurt of your smile across his chest. 'Mhm, depends who they were. Someone close?'

'I guess so. We're...best friends. At least I'd like to think so.'

'Excuse me, you have other best friends that aren't me?!'

You stiffen, pull back a little, a dangerously close dip to the truth. 'I didn't - that's not the point!' you huff, hoping it hides enough, hoping you're still elusive. 'Would you tell them?'

And his heart thunders across his ribs, a plummet into his stomach, a redness that spills across the ivory of his skin. He lapses into a silence then, a quietness punctuated by the thwack of the branches on the window.

'Jiro?'

'Huh? Oh yeah sorry, got distracted by something.' And he clears his throat, swallowing the ache, the spiky slice of a knife edge across his chest. 'I would only tell them if I knew they liked me too, if I was sure.'

'And....how would you be sure?' A whisper dripped down the line.

His tongue is heavy, clinging to the roof of his mouth, a weight that's heavy and suffocating. 'I don't know, I don't think you could be without being honest.'

'But being honest means you might be wrong, because what if they don't like you back? Especially as your best friend.'

You muffle the sniffle, time it perfectly with the roll onto your side, the moon now falling and hidden entirely by the trees, a white ring of light that cracks through the branches.

'Yeah....' he says, a trail of a murmur that's soft and silky. 'I guess you don't really know unless you try.'

And he hates that he holds out hope, that he wishes he could hear it even now, knowing what he knows, and hoping to hold on anyway.

'Mhm...yeah you're right.' A crash, a crescendo, an end. 'Anyway, 'Jiro, it's late, I gotta go okay?'

'Yeah, yeah me too,' he says, a disappointment crashing through his bones. 'I'll see you tomorrow yeah?'

'Mhm, goodnight 'Jiro.'

'Goodnight Princess.'

And he holds the phone to his ear long after you're gone, watching the moon fall further down, a hand of his stretched out towards it, knowing somehow somewhere you're doing the same.

Reblogs appreciated

[mrsparrasblog]

You're losing me pt.2

pt. 1 pt.3

TW: mention of rape, unprotected sex, drinking, blood, violence, angst

The liquor on his tongue didn’t even burn anymore; too much was already in his system, trying to wash down the events of this day. You were the love of his life, the woman he wanted to marry, even though he didn’t know how it would be legal for you to marry all of them. And now, he lost you. The worst part? He can't even remember how it happened. He felt so disgusted in himself in so many ways—disgusted for breaking your heart. God, your look, how you tried to keep your tears in check, broke him. And then his whole body felt disgusted; it felt like a layer of dirt he couldn’t wash away. He scrubbed and scrubbed, but it didn’t go away; the shame still lingered. It felt like someone had taken something from him, but it was his own fault. He must have said yes and bought those drinks. It was his own fault, he told himself over and over again. Normally, he would talk about this kind of stuff with you; you always knew what to say. But you hated him.

"‚‘nother on’," he said to the barkeeper. This was probably his sixth. Johnny knew how he could handle alcohol; he was never that pissed before to not remember a thing. And there she was, the medic, sitting down next to him.

"Hey, Johnny," she smiled brightly, like she didn’t have any worry in her life.

"I ken a dinnae whit yesterday happened bit tis ne'er aff tae happen again."

"Come on, you enjoyed it yesterday."

"I dinnae remember yesterday."

"What a shame."

He stood up, throwing some pounds on the table, wanting to leave, but she stopped him. "Come on, Johnny. I'll help you forget, make you feel at peace again."

"No."

"Then please, let me invite you for a drink as an apology," she smiled sweetly, pushing the drink towards me. Wait, how had she a drink prepared if she sat only for a minute next to me?

"No."

"Please, a drink won't kill you."

"I said no."

"Just one sip, Johnny, and I'll make you feel good how she never could."

"How come ye're sae persistent fur me tae dram this drink?"

"You're silly, Johnny. I'm just being nice," she looked panicked - weird.

While many people thought of him as someone who is just a silly guy who isn’t able to think properly, you told him all over again that he was so smart, smarter than all of them, if someone would just give him the chance to show. And right now, his brain implanted a sick thought on him. "Dinnae tell me ye put something in mah drink."

Her eyes widened. "Of course not," she mumbled.

"Don't lie to me," his hand immediately went to her throat , choking the truth out of her.

"Knockout drugs," she whispered. She was fighting for air as I let her go; the men in the pub already stood up trying to save the poor woman from getting abused by a man.

"You raped me." His shock hit deep; he always thought something like that wouldn’t happen to him. He was strong and able to protect himself. He was the guy who killed people, the youngest man in the SAS, the guy who beat up an officer because he touched a civi. But now, he was the victim.

"Have fun proving it. No one will believe that a tiny girl like me raped the big bad soldier," she laughed, and screamed for help. "Help, this man doesn’t take no for an answer," He was kicked out of the pub; his face was bloody from all the beating.

All he wanted was to reach you, ask your advice, be in the comfort of your arms, telling him all over again how he is a good man, how he is worth everything and not a dirty soldier. But you didn’t pick up; he came to the realization quickly; that no one would believe him.

**Soap:** Please tell me we used a condom.

**Medic:** ;)

Fuck.

————————————————————————————————-

4 am and you still couldn’t sleep; your head was full of thoughts. Why were you not good enough? Why did he do it? So, you made a thing your friends would kill you for. Calling John, you weren’t sure if he would pick up, but he did.

"What's wrong, love?" Source of habit, he thought.

"Why did you do this, John?" you sobbed.

"I didn't mean for it to happen; it was an accident."

"Then why didn't you say sorry?"

"Love."

"Don't fucking call me love. You cheated on me, and you didn't say sorry. You didn't run after me, you didn't apologize," your sobs broke his heart.

"I'm sorry; it was an accident."

"An accident is making a typo, not sticking your dick in a whore."

"I—"

"I hate you, John. I hate you so much," and you hung up. This wasn’t what you expected. Why doesn’t he feel guilty? Why are you not good enough? Why didn’t Simon say something? Why didn’t Kyle come here? Of course, you broke up, but why don’t they care?

If you only knew how Kyle was, blood-covered in the hospital, too many rookies in his way. How Simon was trying desperately to find Soap to see he didn't drink himself to death, and then he would come to you, he told him self all over again. And how the captain didn't leave his office, not even for food.

And how Soap went into John's office, trying to explain to him the truth, only to see a disarranged office, hands covered in blood after he tried to pick up the liquor he smashed at his wall. He never saw his captain so vulnerable, and if Soap didn’t know better, he would have sworn he saw tears.

"Captain, I—"

"You did already enough, MacTavish. Let me have at least one day to mourn over the loss of the love of my fucking life."

"Captain—"

"LEAVE," and he did, he crawled into his bed, knowing he lost everything in a day, the love of his life, his best friend Kyle, his captain, his pride, and safety, and not even Ghost was there.

[actuallysaiyan]

There's A Beautiful Girl, And A Handsome Guy(Kenpachi Zaraki x Fem!Reader)

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, possessiveness, jealousy, creampie finish, rough oral sex(male receiving), love bites, choking

word count: 1.5k

pairings: Kenpachi Zaraki x Fem!Reader

summary: Kenpachi doesn't like the way some of these guys look at you, even if you swear you're so deeply in love with him.

a/n: for the wonderful and lovely @yeowangies! Thank you so much for being so kind to me and supportive <3 You deserve the world!

“Come here, now!” 

You shudder as you hear those words. It was almost like a mating call in a way. Your head whips around to see the very intimidating form of your boyfriend, hands on his hips, calling you over. You feel confused as to why he’s got such an angry tone for you, but you know better than to keep him waiting.

So you make your way over to him, and he’s quick to grab you by the wrist. You yelp in surprise and he smirks. He’s got to teach you a lesson you won’t soon forget.

“Don’t lie to me,” he growls in your ear. “I saw you with Ichigo earlier.”

Your face heats up, “Ken, you can’t be serious!”

He pulls you even closer to him, you feel his muscles bulging as he presses his body against yours. “Listen to me, little woman, you belong to me.”

A chill runs down your spine. Kenpachi doesn’t take these sorts of things lightly. He doesn’t really want to see you getting too close and too chummy with others. It irks him, even if it is someone he enjoys fighting with like Ichigo.

“What if it were someone else, huh? How about Abarai-kun? You always had your eyes on him.”

Your cheeks burn even more as he says these things to you. You have no idea where he got these ideas that you’re going to cheat on him, but that was never the intent. In fact, Ichigo had just been asking about Kenpachi when you two were chatting. He wanted to make sure your boyfriend was doing well.

“Ken please…” you whine as he digs his nails into your wrist. “Let me prove to you how much I love you.”

This makes him chuckle darkly. He grabs your wrist even tighter, pulling you towards a more private place. You’re thanking your lucky stars that he’s going to at least give you the decency of some privacy. The first room he’s found, he shoves you inside and slides the door shut behind him.

“On your knees,”

You don’t need to be told twice. You kneel in front of him, your lips already parted in anticipation of what’s going to happen. Kenpachi smirks down at you, happy that you’re so obedient when you want to be. He undoes his pants, allowing the girthy meat of his cock bob up and down as it is released from its confines.

“Fuck I love that look in your eyes,” he praises as his large hand cups your chin. “You show me just how much you love me by the way you look at my cock.”

You can’t help but squeeze your thighs a little. It’s in the way his tone of voice dips down a few octaves, becoming even lower than usually. He’s always like this whenever he gets so aroused, and it’s even more so whenever it’s a powerplay for him.

“Now, now…don’t make me punish you even more. Suck. On. It.”

Your eyes widen when his fingers tangle in your hair and pull you in even closer. Your mouth waters as soon as you wrap your lips around the tip of his cock. He grunts as he pushes it further into your mouth, making you sputter and choke.

“Come on now,” he grunts as he pushes you even further down his cock. “Show me that you’re all mine. This mouth belongs to me, doesn’t it?”

You nod your head, trying to answer him with a mouthful of cock. Kenpachi snickers at your pathetic attempt. His dick throbs at the way you’re so desperate to obey him when you really want to be a good girl for him.

He begins bucking his hips; grunts and growls falling from his lips. Drool and precum begin to bubble and dribble from your lips, sliding down your chin and dripping down onto your kimono. You’re sure it’ll probably end up leaving a stain. But you don’t dare wipe it off; you’ll be wearing those stains as badges.

You gasp for air the minute he pulls you off his cock. There’s an even more dangerous look in his eyes as he pulls you onto your feet. He shoves you against the wall, and he leans in to nip and bite your neck.

“I never want to see anyone getting so close to what belongs to me,” he growls as he uses his knee to part your thighs.

You whine softly, “S-sorry, Ken…didn’t mean to upset you.”

He grips your hair even harder, making you yelp in surprise. He pulls you flush against his chest; his other hand is busy with undoing your pants and pushing your panties to the side. You’ve got about two seconds of realizing what’s happening before Kenpachi is impaling you on his cock.

“K-Ken! Wait! Slow!”

But your pleas and cries fall on deaf ears. He’s snapping his hips hard and fast; like an animal in heat. He needs you more than you’ll ever know. He loves you more than life itself. Kenpachi is often scared of losing you. You’re a young, sweet thing. To anyone, you are the most beautiful flower to bloom. But to him, you are incredibly precious. Something others don’t quite understand, so they think they can swoop in and try to win your heart.

“You’re all mine,” Kenpachi growls as both of his hands steady your hips. He pushes himself into you even further this way.

You barely know what to say as your mind grows blank. The more the fat tip of his cock hits your sweet spot, the more you find yourself having difficulties speaking. You wanted to apologize for what happened earlier, but his cock just bullies inside of you in the best way to keep you dumb.

“Tch,” he grunts softly as one of his hands comes up to wrap the fingers around your neck. “I need to hear you, baby. Tell me you belong to me.”

Your eyes roll back as he squeezes just enough to block your airways. You try sputtering out the words to appease him, but you can’t even bring yourself to say them.

“What was that?” He taps your cheek lightly with his hand as he continues to fuck himself into you. “Come on, baby. Say the words.”

You whine again as your sweet spot is hit dead on. He smirks as he feels your cunt gripping him, and he feels just how desperate you are to cum. He leans in, nipping at your neck once more as he slows his pace just a little.

“I-I…” you manage to choke out before it all turns into moans. “I…”

Kenpachi smirks, “Yes, what about you, baby?”

Your eyes roll back again and you feel drool dribbling down your chin. He keeps hitting that spongy spot so deep inside of you, and you swear you can see stars every time he does. One of his hands slides down your body, slipping between your thighs. You let out a surprised squeal as he begins to rub your clit.

“I belong…” you gasp out, and you can hear him goading you on.

But you’re almost in too deep to even continue that sentence. Flames lick the fire deep in your belly, and you feel your knees buckling as the pleasure grows too much. Pants and whines fall from your lips and you’re begging to cum now.

“Ah, ah, ah…” Kenpachi scolds you. “Gotta say those words. Only good girls get to cum.”

You whine again, begging him to let you have your release. He begins bucking his hips harder and faster, all the while goading you to say what he’s been wanting to hear this entire time.

“Please Ken, lemme cum!”

He shakes his head and then presses his nose to the crook of your neck, “Won’t let you cum until you say you belong to me.”

To show he’s being serious, he begins pulling out of you. You cry out, begging him and pleading for him not to pull out. You’re so close; you’re sure that if he were to stop now, you’d be in pain from not having that climax all day.

“I belong to you!”

And with that, he snaps his hips once more and begins fucking you with reckless abandon. Groans and growls along with words of possession and protectiveness rumble through his broad chest. A few more harsh thrusts and you’re right at the edge.

“Say it again! Say you belong to me!” His voice is gruff but with a pleading tone.

“I b-belong to you!” You cry out, the coil in your stomach just about to snap.

Your vision turns to white as your earth-shattering orgasm begins to hit you. Your knees begin to buckle, but Kenpachi keeps a tight hold on you to keep you steady as he fucks himself into you. 

“Mine,” he growls before biting down onto the junction between your neck and shoulder. “Only mine!”

Shot after shot of his sticky cum begins pumping into you as your own orgasm has pulled him over the edge. He fucks his seed so deep inside of you, you swear he’s trying to get into your womb this way. Slowly, he begins to come down from his high. Then he stops, pulling you flush against his chest once more.

“You know, the punishment will be double this the next time I see some stupid guy close to you like that again.”

[kenananamin]

All I ask, All I want

SHIBUYA SPOILERS... KINDA.

*This story will slightly alter the events during and after Shibuya.

Summary: Nanami makes his way to you after Shibuya in a delirious state and crashes into your apartment with severe injuries. He cannot process his current state and shows you what he was always worried you would see. You question everything you thought you knew about him and you're anxious to ask him for the truth but worried if he'll even survive. post-shibuya angst, worried nanami and reader, angst, pain... i'm sorry. happy ending ~2.7k words

I'm almost there, she's right past this alleyway.

Nanami slowly walks to your apartment and leans on a parked car for support. He can't hold his head up for longer than a few seconds at a time, but he's memorized your neighborhood after patrolling it so often for any curses that might hurt you as a non-sorcerer. I'm almost there, she's waiting for me...

———

You hear your door handle clanking and slowly get up from your bed without making any extra unnecessary noise. You grab your phone and open Nanami's contact just in case you need to call and lower your head to the door's peep hole. You smile as you see the very top of a familiar blonde head and open your door, "Oh gosh, I was about to panic call you until I — "

Nanami crashes into your entryway and you fall back to the floor when you see him. You're in shock and it takes you a moment to realize there was a bleeding man with severe burns in your entryway... and that man was Nanami Kento. Your brain catches up with the scene in front of you and you let out a blood-curling scream as you crawl towards your boyfriend. He's laying flat on the floor by now and the rug underneath him starts to soak up the blood from his shredded and burned skin.

"Nanami! Fuck, what do I do?! Kento!! Oh my god, oh my god," you reach for your phone but pause as you're about to call for an ambulance. Nanami had mentioned weeks ago that you should call his... friend if he ever had an emergency. You didn't understand at the time but Nanami said it was just a precaution he wanted to take early on. You look for the contact and find 'G.S. Emergency'. No answer. You look for the second emergency contact 'K.I. Emergency'. No answer.

You look at Ken who's shallow breathing has filled every corner of your apartment and soul. You place the call on speaker and start to ramble to the operator while hiding the cleaver knife-like object in his hand.

———

You thought something was off when Nanami would look behind the both of you and excuse himself for a second in the middle of your dates. Or when he'd tell you to stand still and close your eyes. Or when he told you to get inside first and you heard light grunting and his fast steps outside your door before he breathlessly entered the apartment.

You thought something was off, but you could have never imagined this. Nanami lay in a hospital bed, wrapped in special bandages, but you guys weren't in a hospital. It was a clean and sterile room, but you could open the large window and see a horizon of lined traditional temples.

You push any other thoughts away and return to your spot next to Nanami and clasp your hands together. You weren't sure who you were praying to this whole time, but you hoped that someone out there, anyone, was listening and taking pity on you.

———

Nanami wakes up and feels like he's floating. He can't feel the bandages he clearly sees on himself and especially — you. You were sitting on a chair near the foot of his bed with your arms crossed on the bed, sleeping peacefully. This must be heaven. There was no other reason why you'd be in this room with him, in Jujutsu Tech. No wonder he felt like he was floating, this was the afterlife that was being blessed upon him to spend another moment with you. Fleeting moment or a permanent heaven, Nanami wanted to touch you again, hear your voice, and look into his favorite pair of eyes.

"y/n," Nanami squeezes out your name from his dry throat. He doesn't have the strength to move his leg and try to shift your arms so he keeps repeating your name and nicknames to wake you up.

You had fallen asleep for the first time in a while but you hear your name very very softly. You open your eyes and see half of Nanami's face moving. You sit up and see him smile, "y/n. Hi baby."

You shove the chair back and stand up to touch what you can of his face while repeatedly pushing the button on the side of the bed, "Hi Ken, don't move too much, ok? You need to rest first."

He lazily smiles, looks at you with a half-closed eye and slowly says, "Thank you for seeing me off. I love you, y/n." Nanami gently closes his eyes right as Shoko comes in and you see him drift off.

"I love you, Kento," you whisper and kiss his knuckles as you feel the tears prickling your eyes again.

———

Nanami was finally awake. He woke up to see you sleeping on a small couch by the window where the sunset lightly reflected off your skin. He thought he was dead and he'd spend the rest of eternity with you in that room and right as he was finding peace and comfort with the idea, his student walked into the room with a tray of food and water.

"Na— Nanamin?" Yuji stared at his teacher and leaned out the door to scream for Shoko to hurry in.

Nanami starts to shush him and his previous thoughts of being in the afterlife shattered. There was relief to know he was alive, but his panic slowly started setting in when he wondered why you were in the room and just how much you knew.

Yuji and Shoko rush in and he can hear questions being asked and hands touching him to check on him, but he interrupts them without looking away from your sleeping figure, "Why is she here?" Nanami looks at them both, "What does she know?"

Yuji sits on the chair that Nanami had seen you in before and quietly starts to explain that he had left Shibuya after fighting Jogo. Nobody knew where Nanami was and some people believed they should look for his body only instead, predicting he'd be dead. Yuji shares that everything was shattered and hectic but they received a call to rush to a local hospital.

Shoko continues as Yuji grabs some new bandages, "Our van got to the hospital at the same time as the ambulance. y/n told them she was your wife to avoid any resistance in going with you and started fighting us when we wanted to take you. That was when I realized that she didn't know anything about us, about this world. She cried and begged to let the hospital take care of you, that only they would know what to do."

Nanami looks over to you and wishes your back was not turned to him so that he could see your face.

"We brought her with us too and let her stay in the room for everything so that she could see we would not hurt you," Shoko pauses in removing Nanami's bandage and whispers, "Nanami, you should tell her. Everything or just something — anything. She has not left the room since we brought you and she won't listen to any explanation from anyone. y/n said she'll wait for you and will only listen to your explanation."

Nanami rubs his eye and begins to wonder how to even start the conversation with you. This, this was exactly what he wanted to prevent. He tried to stay away from you so that you'd never find out about anything he did, he covered his tracks and continued his cover-story of being a salaryman. But even with all his efforts, he was drawn to you like a moth to a flame and was prepared to let himself drown in everything about you.

Nanami glances to his student who's sadly looking at your sleeping figure before turning to nod to Shoko.

"You know Shoko," Nanami takes a deep breath and turns back to you, "she was the only thing on my mind after Jogo. I walked passed some of the most gruesome scenes I have ever seen in my time as a sorcerer, but I could only think about how much longer I had, about how long I could extend my final breaths to see her one last time. I wanted her face to be the last thing I saw."

———

It's nighttime when you stir awake. The couch was too small to comfortably sleep but your exhausted body was willing to pass out anywhere. You shift to look towards the hospital bed to check on Nanami but you find an empty bed with the covers neatly organized. You start to kick your blanket off to hurry out and quietly whisper no, no, no, please, no when you feel a hand on your foot.

You flinch at the touch but squint your eyes to see Nanami sitting on a chair next to the couch and looking out the window. You look over his body to check that he's still wrapped in his bandages. Nanami sees your eyes travel over his body and moves his hand from your foot to pull the robe over his chest to cover what has begun to scar.

Your eyes well up with tears to see him sitting next to you — alive. You move to the edge of the couch closest to Nanami and hold his hand. "Everything," you move one hand to his chest, touching the part he just tried to cover and leaving your hand over his heart to feel the beating. "You tell me everything right now."

Nanami starts from the beginning. He explains what it was like being born to a non-sorcerer family and the fear he would feel as a child when he'd see things no one else could. He describes what it was like to find out there were more like him and being admitted to Jujutsu High. He talks about his classmates, the work that's required, how the curses look and what the process is to exorcise them, a young man named Haibara, a sister school in Kyoto, the levels to the curses and sorcerers, and the weapons sometimes used.

The last part reminds you of the cleaver-like object and you tell Nanami you hid what he was holding. "I wasn't sure what it was, but whatever it was, I felt like nobody else should see it to avoid more questions to the already suspicious scene. The paramedics already thought I was crazy once they got there and saw your body.."

Nanami nods and let's you ask any questions you have about the Jujutsu world. You both lose track of the time and Nanami notices the sky start to turn into different shades of blue with an orange strip on the horizon by the time you ask what you've been holding all night, "Are... will you.... do you have to go back?"

Nanami looks back at you but you're holding his hand with your head down, waiting, perhaps dreading, his answer. "With how things are now, I think I might. I'm not much help right now but with time I ca—"

Your sob interrupts him and you lean your head down further to cry. He tries to scoot closer to you but a sharp pain in his torso stops him. He rubs your hand with his thumb instead and gently shushes you not to cry.

You stand from the couch, right in front of Nanami and start to fall to your knees. He realizes what you are about to do and leans forward to grab your arm to stop you, but you swat his weak grip away and continue into a deep bow.

"y/n, please. Baby, please stand up, please don't."

You cry and let your forehead touch the floor, "Nanami Kento, I am begging you to stop. Please stop being a sorcerer and please leave this world with me. You have taken enough punches and bruises, you don't have to stay in the ring. Tap out and let someone else tap in." Your quiet tears turn into sobs towards the end of your pleading.

You hear Nanami's voice start to shake above you, "Darling, please —"

You interrupt him and sit up to scoot to hold his knees close to your chest, "Tap me in, let me help you, Ken please. Let me protect you, I swear that I will protect you now."

You feel guilty bowing as you are. You are asking this man to leave what he knows, but you don't know what else to do. You have never felt such fear after seeing so much of his body burnt and his breath so shallow. You would bow to anyone for a chance to save his life. You would bow to him and plead him to save himself with this second chance.

"Don't fight anymore. Stay only as a teacher if you want but put that blade away. Don't leave these walls and the protection they offer. This is as much as I will compromise. I do not want you out there regardless of the danger levels. But better yet — please, let me take care of you. Stop fighting and working, follow me out of these halls and I'll do anything for you, I swear it."

Nanami's tears start to fall and he looks down at you gripping at his thighs in desperation.

"Kids..." you continue to ramble, "We can have kids if you want, we can move somewhere far and finally have our kids. You can convert a whole room into your library, you'll have an infinite amount of books and time to yourself to do anything you'd like. I'll make you all your favorite meals and listen to everything you have to say, even open a bakery if you want to try! I'll wear that wedding dress you have a photo saved of on your phone, even do a traditional wedding if you want to. I'll do it all and more, Ken, just please —" You knew your face was drenched and contorting to match your desperate pleas. "I'm begging you, please.."

Nanami reaches out to touch your cheek and a sob escapes his lips. It's the only time you've both cried this way in front of each other.

Yuji is sitting in the hallway by the room door and listens to the desperate rambling. He had been sitting there since he passed by and heard Nanami talking about his adolescence. He knew it wasn't right, but he just wanted to listen to Nanami speak for a while after the overwhelming anxiety of thinking he was dead and possibly not hearing him again.

Yuji stands, steps inside the room and clears his throat, "Nanamin? I — I think she's right. You should go. I can find you if we need help, but we'll be ok," he pauses to walk halfway into the room, "I think you should step out... and maybe have those kids?" the young boy smiles a bit at the thought of young kids running around his usually stoic teacher and calling him dad.

"Nanamin, Jujutsu High will be ok. And you have someone else to worry about now." Yuuji looks down to Nanami's lap where your head is laying on his thighs, weeping and thinking of more ways to beg him. The young boy smiles, "I've got it from here."

Nanami believes his student... and nods. He looks down at the crying woman whose sobs have their whole body shaking. He fights against the sharp pains around his body and leans down as far as he can to hug you. It is not the strong embrace you are used to from Nanami, but a light envelop that warms and calms your deepest fears.

———

Walking out of Jujutsu Tech, Nanami stops and introduces a few of the people he mentioned in his life story to you. He does not introduce you as his girlfriend (which was technically your title at that moment) but as his wife. You widen your eyes the first time he says it but he just smiles down at you and says, "You started using it first, now it's my turn. But I promise to properly ask you soon."

Yuji, Shoko, and Ino follow you both to the bottom of the stairs to say goodbye. You give them your number so that they have another place to reach Nanami and Yuji gladly takes the number with the promise of checking in soon. Nanami lightly pulls you away to finally leave but pauses before taking another step.

You hold Nanami's hand as he looks back to the school one last time. The place that showed him real pain and heartbreak, but also gave him a place to feel like he was making a difference. The place that held so many memories as both a student and teacher. The place that nearly broke him, but gave him the space to heal to return back to you. You rub his hand with both of yours and say, "All I ask is that you are happy, alive, and safe."

Nanami looks back at you with relief covering his features and guilt covering yours while you keep your head down. He gently rubs his thumb on your hand, "All I want is to follow you." You look up and he moves his hand to your face, "I promise, all I want is you."

You nod and lean to kiss him once softly. You wrap your arm around Nanami's torso and he wraps his arm around your shoulders. You motion for him to lean on you as he walks and for the first time in a long long time, he takes the offer to lean on someone else.

Yuji watches from the entrance path of the school as you both turn to leave the premises. He cups his hands around his mouth and yells, "Nanamin, y/n! I'll visit when I can! Read a few mangas for meeee!"

a/n: I saw paramore this summer and their music has been on repeat the whole year. 'all i wanted' is def gonna be in my top wrapped songs and it def reminds me of nanami every. single. time.

[stanfanfiction]

Taste of You - Ken x fem!reader - PART THREE

Edit: multiple parts have been uploaded and can be found on my pinned Masterlist on my profile :)

For anyone who might want to skip the panic attacks/trauma response bit of the story and just enjoy all the smut (which I absolutely understand and would absolutely lose my mind if someone unintentionally got triggered by my story), I have put 🫶s all along the top and the bottom of the section of the story. So it’s super easy to just skip that entire section and enjoy what you had originally come for :)

Warnings: 18+ / V1rgin Ken / slow burn / smut smut smut/ losing virginity / P! In v! / oral (m! Receiving) / fluff / angst / mental health/ panic attack / purse-snatching incident / hard day for the reader / caretaking Ken / shower play / trauma response / ball touching & sucking / size k!nkk / praise K!nk

You hopped in your classmate’s car, slamming the door shut, attempting you not look like you just ravaged by a living doll inside your house.

You classmate saw through your bullshit immediately. Zoey leaned her head back and laughed out loud, and you looked at her, knowing your ruse was up, and laughed, too.

“Is it that obvious?” You asked.

Zoey pulled down the passenger seat visor mirror and opened it for you. That’s when you saw how flushed you were AND the giant hickey forming where your neck and shoulder met. “OH FUCK.”

Zoey laughed again, putting her purse in your lap. “Glad you know you’re having a good time again,” she winked. “My concealer should be in one of my purse pockets.”

You found it and started dabbing it onto the bruise.

“So who’s the blonde?” Zoey asked, nodding towards your condo. You turned to look and saw Ken staring out the window, smiling, waving at you. Oh god.

You smiled and waved back. “Go, please, go now. He’ll come out and want to talk if you don’t.”

Zoey stepped on the gas and you watched Ken disappear in the side view mirror.

“Tell me about your new man,” Zoey coaxed.

“Later,” you giggled. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“Mmm, fiinnee,” Zoey exaggerated.

🫶 🫶 🫶 🫶 🫶 🫶 🫶 🫶 (Beginning of trauma response section)

Class was easy but also torturous. You aced your exam and were out of the classroom within half an hour, and stopped for another coffee at the campus cafe on your way to your next class. You wanted to be back with Ken. You hated how fast he had turned your world upside down, especially dealing with the aftermath of a really scary relationship that you were still slowly working to heal from. You had been in the midst of a mental collapse when Ken showed up in your life. You now wondered how much of an unconscious decision inviting him into your home had been about possibly just not living alone so you felt a bit more safe.

You got through your next class decently easily, considering how boring the lectures were in this one, but kept spacing out for some reason today. Your memories with your ex kept ravaging your mind despite how hard you fought them, and it was difficult to focus on taking class notes. The professor called on you to answer a question and, despite feeling like you knew it, answered incorrectly, and that got into your head, making you feel even worse about, well, everything at the moment. You were so grateful when the professor announced everyone could leave and reminded when next week’s homework assignments were due.

Zoey texted that she had a family emergency and wasn’t able to drive you home as you left the classroom. You sent her your best and told her to let you know how you could help when she needed it. You decided to take the bus, which didn’t drop you off super close to your condo, but it was closer than walking from campus. The bus took ages, as there was a huge traffic jam on the road leading up to the bus stop. When you finally managed to get to the station near your house and got off, a masked man jumped out from around the corner of the building you were walking around with a knife and started ordering you to throw him your bag, approaching you swiftly. You screamed, whipping the heavy book bag into the criminal’s face as hard as you could before turning on your heel and sprinting away. The criminal was knocked down by how hard you had managed to hit him, and thankfully your scream alerted an couple other passerby’s and they started yelling at the guy, who stood as fast as he could and ran in the opposite direction. Once you knew he was definitely out of sight, you slowed your pace a little, finally at the last crosswalk that separated you from your home.

It had rained while you were in class, and as you were able to cross the street, a car zoomed by way over the speed limit and you got doused with a muddy puddle. You stared ahead in disbelief, but grit you teeth and began to walk home a little faster. You hadn’t had a panic attack in awhile, and didn’t want to involve Ken in any of the shit you were suddenly battling again in your head, AND after having just a kinda stupid day. You calmed your breathing as you approached your home, wanting to just shower in peace and hopefully calm down and not worry about anything the rest of the day.

You entered your condo dirty and exhausted. Ken was in the doorway, grinning, like he had been standing there all day. You looked up through wet eyelashes at him to see his demeanor change instantly, walking towards you.

“What happened?” He was so concerned. His hands danced around, trying to figure out what to do, reaching for your book bag then retreating his hand.

“I just….hmmm,” you worked hard to keep your composure. You didn’t want to break down in front of him. “I just need to shower, and, uh, then we can….whatever…”

He heard the defeat in your voice, and he looked so concerned. “How do I help?”

You smiled a little. “There’s nothing you can do, Ken. Just one of those days.” You patted his arm. “I’ll be fine, just need a bit.”

“Oh, okay,” Ken paused, glancing towards the bedroom. “Uh, so, I need you to close your eyes when walking to the bathroom.”

You eyed him. “Why, Ken?”

He seemed distressed. “You’ll see, but later. Can I cover your eyes?”

You were too tired to play games, even though he was being sincere. “I’ll just close my eyes, you can guide me to the bathroom.”

Ken nodded, looking determined. You closed your eyes, offering him your wet hand, and he slowly helped you get into the bathroom, closing the door behind the two of you.

“I can open my eyes now?”

“Yes.”

He stared at you, sad, looking helpless.

“Can I help you get these off?” He reached for your wet clothes.

You gently stopped his hand. “I’m good, Ken. Thank you. I just need a moment alone.”

He looked a little crushed, but nodded, still learning how to navigate this new emotion coming from you.

“Okay, y/n. I’m, uh, I’ll be just outside the door if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Ken.”

You peeled off your wet clothes we he closed the door, shivering from feeling so cold. You turned the shower on to hot, leaning your hands onto the sink counter as you breathed intentionally, still trying not to cry. You needed to cry but felt scared too, but for whatever reason you weren’t sure why. You walked into the hot shower, focusing on enjoying its warmth and began to lather the dirty off of yourself, shampooing your hair, staring towards the floor the whole time.

When you were finally clean, you leaned your head into the wall, slowly allowing yourself to finally leak some tears. Your head spun, and then the sobs came quick and hard. You sank down onto the tile floor, your body heaving, and your wrapped your arms around your legs, hugging yourself as you experienced your release.

You heard the shower door open. Ken stood there, naked, and walked into the shower with you, closing the door. You stared up at him with bloodshot eyes, trembling lips, the shower water falling over your figure. You could see him racking his brain on what to do.

He sat down beside you, the side of frame gently touching your own, as the shower wasn’t big enough to allow you enough space to not be in bodily contact. He copied your stance of hugging your legs, and looked down at the floor.

“I’m not sure what is wrong, but I didn’t want you to be alone.” His voice echoed softly in the tiled room.

You felt safe. It was sudden, it was amazing, and it made your heart ache even more somehow. Shame racked your entire being and you began to sob again, Ken sitting quietly next to you, and his silent company somehow made it easier to experience your pain.

He allowed you as much time as you needed, and when you began to calm down a little, exhausted more than ever, you covered your face with your hands, mortified. You felt Ken’s hand gently touch your forearm.

“What’s wrong?” He asked so tenderly it made you want to cry again.

You shook your head. “I…can’t…”

He waited patiently for you to finish.

“I’m sorry, I can’t talk about it right now,” you said between shaky breaths.

Ken nodded. “That’s okay.” He paused, before asking, “I just want to make sure it’s not something I did to you.”

You looked up at him now, his beautiful face gazing down at yours. You shook your head. “No, Ken. You have only been wonderful to me.”

His anxiety relaxed, and he nodded again. “Whatever it is, I will keep you safe.”

You had no idea why he said that, but maybe somehow his intuition was way more evolved than you realized. A few more tears ran down your face. “Thank you, Ken.”

“I want to help.”

“You are helping.” You sniffed and leaned your head on his shoulder, allowing his calming presence to relax you a little.

🫶 🫶 🫶 🫶 🫶 🫶 🫶 (End of trauma response section)

Ken looked over and saw the bruise he had left on your shoulder area earlier that day. He looked alarmed. “Who did this to you?”

You laughed now, and he startled at that. “You did. When you suck too hard sometimes, you can bruise my skin. We call them hickeys.”

Ken stared. “I…didn’t mean -“

“I know,” you wrapped your arms around his. “It doesn’t hurt, I just have to cover it up when I’m out. Well, I guess I choose to cover it up.”

“Why?”

“It’s kind of an indication that I’m having sex with someone.”

Ken looked confused. “Is that a bad? That people would know?”

You paused, thinking. “I suppose not? It’s just not something a lot of people want others to randomly know, I guess. Hickeys can also be seen as marks of ownership.”

“Ownership?”

“Yeah, like a kink thing. Kind of a, I’ll leave a hickey on you because I want others to know you’re mine.”

Ken’s wheels were spinning. “Kink thing…”

“I’ll explain kinks later, if that’s alright.” You put your chin on his shoulder now, looking up at him.

“Uhh, so, people will see your hickey and assume you are,” he lowered his voice, “mine?”

“Well, not specifically ‘yours,’ as they don’t know who you are, but it could be seen as an indication that someone marks me as a means of calling me their own.”

“Ah.” Ken was working hard to appear nonchalant, but you definitely noticed him processing that information.

Your exhausted state of mind was causing your body to slowly come down from the day, and being this close to Ken, feeling he sensitive he was to wanting to understand you and the world around him was such an easy turn-on. You reached a hand over and placed it on his chest. His pecs swelled when he in-took a sharp breath at your touch.

“You’re so kind to me. Can I return the favor?” You traced your finger down his sternum. A small moan grew from the back of his throat

“You’re sure?” He asked, although suddenly struggling to keep his composure. You LOVED how easily he was turned on by you.

“Mmmhmm. Want to make you feel good.”

“What would you like me to do?”

“What would you like *me* to do?” You repeated back to him, your hand now reaching for his cock, which was already hardening.

“I…don’t…if you are tired -“

“I’m not too tired for you.” You kneeled, turning his face in your hands. “Let me take care of you, my sweet boy.”

That did it. In one swift movement, Ken stood up, bringing you up with him into a standing position. He pressed you into the shower wall, the slight sting of the cold tile awakening all of your senses.

“Gonna make you wet for me,” he said, hooking one of your legs around his waist and holding it there as his now fully hardened cock began rubbing in-between your folds. You moaned loudly at the sparks that exploded in your abdomen.

He reached around with his other hand to grab your butt and you giggled a little when you realized this was his first time really touching you there. He discovered that he could maneuver your hips to move in rhythm with his own this way, and he moaned in awe as he watching your two bodies move together.

His breathing was becoming louder now.

“What do you want, Ken?”

“Just want you,” he shuddered, rubbing into you harder now. You moaned loudly at the way his cock was beautifully massaging your clit. “Just so desperate for you.”

You put your hands on his chest. “Why don’t we take this to bed?” You asked, wanting to be able to pleasure him while he relaxed.

Ken shook his head at first. “Need you now,” he said, hips beginning to buck a little faster, then he slowed his pace, remembering something. “Ohhh, oh yeah. Yes.” He stopped his movement. “Okay, yeah we should go to the bed.”

You cocked your head trying to figure out his change of mind when you recalled he had asked you to close your eyes on the way to the bathroom.

Ken turned off the shower water and stepped out, wrapping you in a towel first so you would stay warm. He hurriedly dried himself off and then tried to help you, which made you laugh, as he only got in the way, but your laugh made him smile, and that felt good to see.

“Okay,” he said, reaching for your hand but then pulling back.

“What’s with the sudden shyness?” You asked.

“Just want you to be happy.”

“I’ll be happy. Can I see now?”

He nodded, then reached back for your hand, which you accepted. He opened the bathroom door and you stepped into the bedroom, and your heart melted.

Ken had put candles on the bedside tables, different colors, all lit, and the bed was covered in fresh rose petals. You looked at him.

“You did this?”

He grinned, pleased to see you liked it. “Yeah. I found this app thing called Pin Interest and uh, looked up things girls like, and I found a picture of something like this. I didn’t know what color you liked best so I got all the colors I could find,” he said, indicating the candles.

You giggled, wanting to correct him that the app was called “Pintrest,” but decided it didn’t really matter. “You went and got all this?”

“Yeah, I took the cash you left for me and went shopping. Although,” he looked confused again, “three different people gave me their phone numbers on the way there and back. I’m not sure what to do with them? Am I supposed to call them about something?”

“Forget the numbers, Ken.” You laughed, and pulled him towards the bed. “Okay, lay down.”

Ken shook his head, and picked you up bridal style. He got onto the bed and placed you in front of him so your back was pressed against his chest and torso, and he reached for a cup on the bedside table.

“You always make this when you seem stressed after class, so I made you some when you got into the shower.” He handed you a cup of your favorite hot tea with a sliver of lemon, just the way you always made it. Had he paid this close attention to you?

You felt like crying again. No one had ever thought about caring for you this way. He wrapped his arms around your waist contentedly as you took a sip.

“It’s perfect, Ken.” You smiled up at him, eyes teary. “*You’re* perfect.”

He looked so happy at you, and reached forward towards your cup. “I just want you to feel loved.” He felt like a wall behind you, secure as you leaned fully back into him, and he rested his chin softly onto your hickey.

“I do,” you wanted to say, but something in you chocked the words down. Instead, you turned to kiss him, and he kissed you back. His kisses were so wonderfully warm and soft. When you two pulled apart, he reached a hand near your cup.

“May I?” He asked.

You didn’t know what he was asking to do but you nodded anyway, and he dipped two fingers into the tea, stirring them around in it for a moment before bringing them up to your lips. Ahhhh, he discovered he really liked his fingers in your mouth. You took them between your lips and sucked on them while Ken watched as his pupils dilated. You licked them for a moment before letting them free, and he looked like he was in a daze.

“Remember how my mouth felt on your cock?’

He nodded, silent.

“Would you like me to do that again?”

“I do. Been thinking about it all day.”

“You’re so patient, you deserve to be rewarded.”

Ken made a soft sound at that, and you decided you’d have to keep praising him the rest of the night, he was so hot when he reacted to it.

You reached over to set your tea down, Ken loosening his grip on you just enough to do so, then tightening it again. You pushed at his arms.

“I need to get up so I can pleasure you,” you purred.

“MMhmm. In a little while.”

You gasped when he hooked his legs underneath yours, ankles wrapping around yours, and opening your legs for him.

“Ken, it’s your turn, remember?”

“Gotta make you wet first,” Ken his fingers back into your mouth, and you knew this was already becoming addictive to him.

“Ken, I promise you, I’m plenty wet,” you said when he pulled his fingers out a moment later.

Ken shook his head. “Don’t want to hurt you,” and with your saliva on his fingers, he began running his fingers up and down your vulva, from opening to clit.

Your head fell back onto his shoulder, and if your eyes had been open you would have seen him gazing adoringly at you. His fingers teased your entrance, dipping in only the tiniest bit before circling it and then going back up to rub on your clit.

“Ken, please,” you begged, your legs shaking a little. “Please let me just pleasure you. I need to. I need to right now.”

“Later.” He pushed two fingers inside of you, curling them right as he entered, and immediately hit your g-spot, causing you to cry out.

“Ken, Ken, Ken…” his name on your lips like a prayer. He was hypnotized by you. You squeezed hard around his fingers as he sped up the pace, holding you in place with his legs. Fucking hell if he wasn’t a virgin you would force him down, ride his face until you collapsed, and then make him fuck you until you lost control over all rhyme and reason.

“Fuck you until you lose what?”

His voice startled you but you couldn’t be bothered to full re-enter reality with the way he was touching you. “What?”

“You were mumbling.”

Oh fuck you couldn’t even trust your thoughts to yourself. You needed to gain back control which would take great difficulty as he swirled his fingers inside you, deeper, feeling every crevice he could find.

“Need you to stop,” you gasped. “Please.”

“Why?” He asked, slowing his pace the tiniest bit.

“Because I want to orgasm on your cock.”

He stopped then and you opened your eyes, watching him contemplate how that would feel.

“The way you squeeze and spasm around my fingers…”

“Yes,” you reached behind you and gripped his throbbing member in your hand, “but around here instead.”

He finally decided to listen and slowly removed his fingers from you. You decided to make him happy and sucked your juices from his fingers, and he shuddered again watching his digits disappear into your mouth. You released them, then looked up at him firmly.

“Now lay back like a good Ken.”

His eyes glazed over a little and he immediately complied, laying down, the rose petals on the bed moving around the two of you as you straddled his hips.

“What would you like first, sweet Ken?”

“Anything you’ll do to me,” he choked out as you rubbed your wet vulva over his cock and ran your fingers down his lower abs, those fucking perfect muscles flexing in time with his spasms.

“Good Ken.” You leaned down and, continuing your slow rubbing on his cock, kissed from his lips, down his neck, to his chest which was heaving with heavy breaths. You smirked at him as the tip of your tongue traced one of his nipples. He grabbed your hips and bucked into you, and you smiled now as you began licking and gently biting him there.

“Ohh! I can’t..fuck, y/n, what….this feels so…” he groaned when you left his nipple for a moment to suck hard on the area of his peck above it, using teeth and staring up at him as he watched you mark him. When you pulled back, the small bruise was already beginning to form, and his eyes shone at you. You realized then maybe marking him for fun might not have been the *best* idea, since he had reacted the strongest to the idea that a hickey represented someone claiming someone else….but you decided you’d figure that out later.

You continued down his abs, licking up and down and he gripped your hair tightly when you reached down to hold his balls.

“Y/N!” He cried, his entire body shaking a little.

“You’re doing so good, Ken. Taking everything I’m giving you so well. You’re handling it all so, so well.”

He regained a little confidence at that but lost everything again when you took his member into your mouth, sucking hard at the tip before lowering your mouth as far to his base as you could. He trembled and made the most wonderful noises you had ever heard, your free hand firmly gripping his base and moving in time with your mouth.

“It’s…..ahhhh! It’s too much,” he gasped shakily, and you paused softly, removing your mouth from him, and climbing back up onto his hips.

“Are you okay, sweet boy? Is it hurting you?”

He stared up at you, and he looked so innocent, so overwhelmed. “I’m trying,” he promised.

“You don’t have to try. This is supposed to feel good.”

“It *does* feel good.” It seemed he wasn’t gaining back any control of his body despite the break from you pleasuring him, and he began to tremble. You took his lips in yours, intentionally moaning into his mouth, and he kissed you back so hard, with so much love, you swear you felt it full your entire being.

“I don’t want to disappoint you,” he whispered, face flushed.

“Why on earth would you disappoint me?” You asked, brushing back a hair from his forehead. He looked so emotional, and then you understood. You had been intimidated and felt oddly shameful and sad your first time, too. You just hadn’t thought that a man could feel the same way, at least it hadn’t crossed your mind until now.

“Everything you are feeling,” you said softly, Ken hanging on your every word, “is normal. But there’s no reason to feel bad about any of this. You’re safe. All of you, all of this, it’s beautiful. It’s special.”

He stared at you, so much trust in his eyes.

“Would you like me to keep going? Or should we stop for awhile?”

He shook his head, running his fingers up and down your back, giving you such a lovely shiver.

“I want everything. I want you.”

“Are you sure?”

He nodded, small, but certain. “Please.”

You smiled at him. You promised yourself you’d be gentle, and you would. You wanted to make this beyond amazing for him. You held his cock, huge in your hand, and thought for a second about how maybe you should have let him finger you a bit longer to stretch you open, but you would definitely make do. You lined him up underneath you, and placed his hands on your hips.

“I know it’s your first time, but I’m going to ruin you for anyone else,” you stated. Ken had no idea what you were talking about but assumed since you were the one saying it that he would love it.

His eyes grew wide as you achingly slowly lowered yourself onto his tip, and his hands gripped your hips so tightly you knew you’d have fresh bruises when this was over. That made you feel so turned on that you lowered yourself further, keeping your eyes on Ken, making sure he was alright with everything as it was happening. He cried out when you fully bottomed out onto his cock, and you moaned loudly as how long and thick he was. You definitely *were* in pain, but FUCK if it wasn’t so incredible and you were soaking up every moment of it.

“You okay, my sweet boy? Are you taking all of this like a good Ken?” You lifted yourself back up, almost letting him fully out of you before lowering yourself back down, having you balance yourself with your hands on his chest because he was causing you so much pleasure but still adjusting to his size. Ken’s head rolled back into the pillows, shuddering, hips twitching underneath you.

You were going to fuck him out of his mind. You began moving a little faster and he spit out the most incredible noises and half-coherent words.

“You are so….ah…bea - I ohhh….tight…you’re so TIGHT…I’m…so good…y/n…it’s, ahh, please, please…”

Your hips moved faster once you were physically able to stand his size, and you panted, focusing on keeping a steady pace as his whole body writhed underneath you.

“Mmmm, you fuck me so well,” you gasped, and he opened his eyes - those gorgeous, blue, being fucked-out-of-his-mind eyes - and looked so proud and happy that he was able to make you feel this good. The fact that he was still so focused on your pleasure when he was literally experiencing intercourse for the first time made you even hotter, and you began bouncing up and down on his cock.

He yelled out in surprise, hands shaking, and you removed them from your hips to your breasts, which he took between his strong fingers and squeezed, your head falling back and you letting out breathy moans.

Ken started getting close to his climax and you could tell, he was becoming even less coherent, and his hands moved around on you, trying to find somewhere to grip but not knowing where to land. You realized he looked a little scared. You leaned forward but didn’t stop your pace while you fucked him.

“Are you okay, my Ken?”

He didn’t answer, just took both of your wrists in his hands. You slowed your pace now, and placed both of your hands on his face. As always, he relaxed a little, his face brightening, and he leaned his cheek into one of your palms.

“Can you help me finish you like this?” He closed his eyes, taking in your scent as your hair fell a little into his face, but he nodded. “Can you put your feet on the bed, bend your knees?”

He complied, and now his cock was buried *deeep* inside of you, both of you moaning loudly in unison.

You kept your hands on his face. “Are you ready, sweet Ken? My good Ken?”

He opened his eyes, completely lost in you.

“Yes, please,” he whispered. You began riding him again and shuddered so hard he had to grip your hips to balance you. He was so fucking deep from this angle you swore he might hit your cervix.

“I’ve got you,” you soothed as you regained some composure and got back into a steady pace. Ken was panting now, every muscle tensed and fucking fuck he was so goddamn strong and chiseled and flawless. He almost yelped when you took a hand back to reach down and press into a spot directly above his cock. You had learned this from a sex magazine ages ago, about how men had a special little “g spot” too to a degree in their groin area there, but had never tried it. Apparently the magazine was telling the truth because Ken seemed to lose all control after that.

He bucked up into you, hard, and you screamed in a mix of pleasure and pain, chanting his name over and over again as you swore your voice would become hoarse from how loud you were having to be to release some of this internal pressure. You felt surrounded by him - his body, his energy, the smell of the rose petals around the two of you mixing with his scent. You were in heaven.

You squeezed your eyes shut as your orgasm hit hard, washing over and over and over again, and if you had been looking you would have seen Ken smiling up at you right before he lost all control himself - feeling you squeeze and spasm around him, hearing you yelling his name over and over again, watching you experience intense pleasure because of him, while on top of him, with him inside you. You were beautiful, so beautiful. He fucked into you fast and hard, chasing his orgasm that exploded his entire being into fireworks, his vision seeing stars as he lost any idea of how he was moving or what was happening around him, only that he felt SO so amazing, and that you were there with him. He sobbed your name as he rode out his pleasure, his body going limp the moment he was through.

You both worked to catch your breath, eyes focusing on each other, and you smiled, exhausted, down at him. He smiled back, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. You were so thankful he didn’t seem scared or embarrassed by it, because you knew that it meant he felt safe.

He whines, visibly unhappy, when you pulled yourself off of him. You laid down next to him on your side, facing him, your body spent. He turned on his side, too, and hooked your leg around his waist, then wrapped his arm around your torso, holding you close. He thrust back up into you completely . You yelped, grasping his strong arm in shock.

“Wanna stay here,” he mumbles, trying to look dominant but his expression being obvious that he was hoping you wouldn’t make him leave. To prove his point, he pushed himself impossibly deeper into you ever so softly, but now it was your turn to see stars, and you felt like you would cry now.

“Please, Ken,” you begged. “I’m really tender right now.”

“I know,” he said, barely moving his hips but still stroking his still rock-hard cock in and out. Goosebumps covered your flesh.

“How are you still able to do this??” Tears actually begun forming now. Your body was telling you it couldn’t take any more but somehow it was, and you couldn’t seem to manage to make yourself push him away no matter how loud you yelled at your body to do so.

“Am I not supposed to be able to do this?” He asked genuinely.

“Most men can’t…ahhhhh…” you faltered, your head falling into his chest as his cock rubbed every inch of the top of your opening, your g-spot getting perfectly stimulated with the rest of your muscle tightening around him.

“Most men can’t what?”

“Do this again so soon,” you choked.

“Mmmmm.” He acknowledged his understanding, then placed a kiss on your forehead. “But I’m not most men.”

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

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[missyandthemisfits]

Tokyo Rev X Apathetic!GNReader

 

Part I of Who The Fuck Really Knows

Manjiro ‘Mikey’ Sano 

He’s a weird one so he is absolutely overjoyed to find you’re generally lacking in enthusiasm, even in the face of what appears to be great danger. 

See, it was raining and Mikey was speeding on his bike and cut a corner insanely fast without slowing down at all, eyes widening as his headlights spotted you suddenly in the darkness. He maneuvers past you in the nick of time but manages to flip his bike – luckily there wasn’t any serious damage, just some scratches here and there, to him and the bike. 

“You alright?” suddenly you were kneeling over his blinking form but he’s still deciphering in his mind what happened. He sits up with ease and glances over your form to make sure you were okay. To his surprise, you blinked back at him, face devoid of any trace of panic or worry. He leaned in a bit.

“I’m alright…you weren’t scared?” You glance at the ground for a bit, humming to yourself. 

“…Yea, kind of.”

“Kind of?” He parrots before bursting out in laughter, doubling over. You wait patiently for him to finish and he smiles at you. 

“What’s funny?” 

“You! I like you, what’s your name?” 

He’s hooked on you like a drug from then on, incredibly entertained by your presence. No one quite understands the connection, not even Draken, but they accept it nonetheless. 

He develops significant feelings pretty early on but he doesn’t really realize those feelings until his entire mood sours at the sight of some rando from Division 2 flirting with you. His brow furrows, his eyes narrow, and his jaw tightens. 

He saunters over, hands in his pockets with a dangerous smile playing on his lips, calling out the squad member’s entire name to get their attention. They glance over before standing in attention for Mikey, who grants the boy a close-eyed smile this time. 

“Beat it.”

You had never seen anyone take off so fast and you and Mikey watch until he’s out of sight. He turns to you with one of his genuine smiles, excited again but you raise a brow. 

“Is something wrong, Mikey? You feeling okay?”

“I am now.” He grabs you hand and tugs gently, grin widening at your blushing face, “C’mon, let’s go get ice cream!” 

“Isn’t it still Winter?”

“I don’t see your point, (Name).” 

Ken ‘Draken’ Ryuguji 

Does he think it’s weird? Maybe a little.

Does it stop him from being a gentleman? Absolutely not. 

He met you in Primary School. You were drawing food in the sand with a stick and what he assumed was a bored expression. He had nothing better to do honestly, so he approached you, hand on his hip. 

“Hey.” You looked up, blinking with a nod.

“Hey.” You kept eye contact for moment longer then returned your gaze to the ground. His sweat-dropped.

“Uh…what are you doing?” he tried again.

“Drawing eggs to go with the bacon.”

“Uh-huh…” Another moment went by. “Are you lonely or something?” You shook your head immediately.

“No. I don’t really get lonely a lot. I actually prefer it like this...” You paused, “You’re okay though.” 

“Um-,” he found himself blushing a bit, “Thanks, I guess?” 

And you were friends from then on. 

You had many girls try and fail to bully you throughout the years he noticed, but you never really responded how they expected, ultimately scaring them off. It was kind of impressive honestly, he’d never seen someone get scared off by well…complete disregard. Well, that some stupid rumor that you were some kind of witch. 

He’d gotten to know you pretty well though, noticing the subtle changes in your nearly absent mood gradually over the years. He inserted the quarter into the machine, grabbing a Strawberry milk for himself and your signature coffee. Making his way over to the bench, he handed you the beverage before flopping back into his seat beside you, arms slung over the back of it as he peered at you fidgeting fingers.

“Tell me what’s bugging you, (Name). Doesn’t do you any good to hide it, you know that.” 

You gripped your drink tighter, eyes burning and threatening to spill fresh tears. 

How did he always know?

Takashi Mitsuya 

Knows you have a hard time not only expressing your emotions but feeling them in what society feels is a “normal capacity” – and couldn’t give a shit about what everyone else had to say about it. You were his dear friend, more than that honestly, but he hadn’t exactly gotten around to confessing-

He’d be lying if he said his nerves didn’t play a part, but he wasn’t scared really. More like…he didn’t want to ruin the dynamic if you didn’t feel the same way. He’d be there for you regardless but the last thing he wanted to do was scare you off or make things awkward. 

It didn’t exactly help that you were in the same class as him, just a few seats away.

You had gotten acquainted through cleaning duty of all things, him being placed on it for being tardy, you being placed on duty because you’d forgotten you homework assignment at home. It was a weeklong punishment but honestly, he wished it had been longer. 

“Kinda sucks we got this gig, huh?” he started with a smile, you blinked over with a shrug.

“Not really. I kind of like cleaning.” He glances back a forth from the desk to your face. You almost sounded sarcastic but he had a feeling you meant what you said, that the tone he registered was just your normal speaking voice.

“Oh yeah? There a reason for that?” He attempted to gauge your reaction to him making conversation and as far as he could tell, you didn’t seem to mind. You nodded.

“My family… isn’t home very often. Doesn’t take that long to do homework, so…I cook and clean a lot. Reading is fun too. Like an escape...” He stopped his movements completely and gave you a sincere look.

“I’m sorry.” You shook your head this time.

“No, it’s alright. I know you didn’t mean to offend. It’s just life, ya know?” You granted him a rare, soft smile - the first one he’d seen from you all semester. Honestly it made his heart skip a beat just to see it, determined from then on to try and make you smile more often. And he’d done a pretty decent job of that he thought.

Sighing, gathering his courage and his keys, he made his way out the front door. He gripped his phone in his pocket before slipping it out and dialing.

“Hey (Name), you busy? I know it’s getting late but would you mind meeting me outside your apartment building? There’s…something I feel you should know.”

[unpredictable-probabilities]

Raisins and Dates

Summary:

A beautiful stranger catches Hob’s eye during a night out at a bar. Spurred on by his cheeky friends and a fair amount of alcohol, Hob makes his way over to court him through the most daring method possible.

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 7,874

Square/Prompt: C3 - Bad Pickup Lines |  @dreamlingbingo

Ship(s): Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Human, First Meeting, Pick-Up Lines, Bad Pick-Up Lines, But they both find it cute so it's okay, Drunkenness, Drunken Shenanigans, Drunken Confessions, Temporary memory loss because of drunkenness, Hangover, Sweet, Sweet/Hot, Domestic, Kissing, Neck Kissing, French Kissing, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Oral Sex, Smut, Eventual Smut, Cuddling & Snuggling

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57613603

—

“Look, I've seen you use pickup lines,” Hob reminded his friends, his words only slurring a bit. It was their first night out in weeks because of conflicting work schedules and they might have gotten a bit enthusiastic at downing shots. “Half of you lot got rejected within seconds of saying them. Pickup lines are…” he furrowed his eyebrows as he tried to remember what adjectives were. “Stupid. The only reason you even attempt them is because that's what people do in bars. But not me. I've seen enough of you crash and burn. I've made up my mind,” he took a drink from his beer bottle. “I'm never gonna use any pickup line.”

It wasn't the most world-changing principle to hold onto, but Hob tended to run his mouth whenever he'd had more than a few drinks, and when his equally drunk friends dared him to get any stranger's phone number with a pickup line, Hob suddenly felt like giving an entire lecture about it.

“You're an idiot, Robbie,” Ken called him by the nickname he knew Hob disliked the most. “You're just saying that ‘cause you know you'll get rejected like the rest of us.”

Frank piped up. “Maybe I'll take you up on that dare, Ken. You think a pickup line would work on that lady in the black shirt?” He nodded over to the bar where a woman with curly hair and a nice smile was talking to a man who had his back to them.

“Oh, honey,” Hal gave Frank a pitying look. “I don't think anything you say would work on someone so out of your league. And it's a tank top, not a shirt.”

“And that guy could be her boyfriend,” Ken pointed with a nacho to the man leaning against the bar.

Hob was about to say something, but whatever it was fled his mind when the man turned around to speak to the bartender.

His face reminded Hob of those Greek statues in museums; lined features on smooth marble, cheekbones so sharp that Hob would willingly risk getting his hand cut if it meant he could touch them.

“I don't think they're dating,” Hob managed to remember what he was about to say, but this time he knew he sounded a bit hopeful.

“Oh?” Hal arched an intrigued eyebrow. “Would you mind confirming for us, darling?”

“Hey,” Frank elbowed Hob. “If you get that bloke’s number with a pickup line, I’ll get the tab for our next three nights out.”

“Now, we’re talking!” Ken piped up.

Hob was barely listening, still staring at the man who had now turned his back again to continue his conversation with the woman. He stood up—to the surprised and slurred cheers of his friends—and made his way over to the bar.

The woman saw him first, meeting his gaze over the man’s shoulder. For a second, Hob was afraid that they really were dating, and the woman was about to drag the man away somewhere else.

But she smiled warmly and said to the man, “I think someone wants to buy you a drink, brother,” nodding in Hob’s direction.

Brother. Hob knew he was already grinning.

The man turned to face him, and Hob’s breath hitched, suddenly realising how close they were to each other. Piercing blue eyes fixed on him, before flicking down to the bottle he still held in his hand.

“I do not think you should buy any more drinks,” the man said, an amused smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“Do you like raisins?” Hob blurted out.

The man looked at him curiously. “I don’t believe they sell raisins here.”

“Well how do you feel about a date?” Hob said cheekily.

The man’s face showed a combination of surprise and confusion, but he wasn’t walking away and Hob was taking that as a win.

The woman laughed good-naturedly behind her brother and patted him on the back. “I think that’s my cue to leave.”

Her brother raised an eyebrow. “You are the one who pestered me to go out tonight, and now you will leave me alone?”

“I'll just be over there by the tables if you need me,” she smiled reassuringly before walking away.

The man turned to Hob again. “Do such lines usually work for you?”

Hob chuckled, leaning against the bar. “Nah. I’ve never even used a pickup line until now. I just heard one of my friends use that one earlier.”

“And did it work?”

“Not at all,” Hob shook his head. “The guy didn’t know that dates were a fruit, and it was just an awkward time with my friend trying to explain the wordplay.”

Amusement twinkled in the man’s eyes, softening his features. “Then why use the same line if it proved ineffective?”

“Had to say something, didn’t I? And we’re having a conversation right now so I’d say it’s effective enough.” Hob grinned and finished the last of his beer, placing the empty bottle on the bar. “Y’know, my friends thought your sister was your girlfriend.” Was that relevant? Hob wasn’t sure, but it was something to say.

The man’s eyebrows lifted. “And that is why you approached me? To settle an argument among your friends?”

“S’no argument,” Hob frowned to try to remember. He hadn’t really been paying attention to the table conversation at the time. “Yeah. I just thought you’re beautiful and I’d regret it for the rest of my life if we never talked,” he chuckled and looked down, sheepishly tugging at his earlobe.

The man had a look of mild surprise on his face. “You are… sincere.”

“What? Well, yeah. Why would I lie about that?” Hob asked in confusion.

“Some people do,” the man gave a half shrug. “It’s why I dislike going to these places,” he muttered, eyeing the crowds.

“Oh,” Hob remembered what this man said about his sister just pestering him to go here tonight. He shifted on his feet uncomfortably. “Um, I can just go back to my friends. If that’s what you want…?”

The man looked at him for a moment, then he opened his mouth to answer—

“Here's your order, sir.” The bartender placed a drink and a small basket of pretzels on the bar. He handed back a credit card.

“Thank you.” The man took the card and turned back to Hob. “Do you like pretzels?”

Hob blinked. He looked at the basket and back at the man. “I— Yeah.”

“Then would you care to join me? I believe we can find a table somewhere.” His eyes seemed to glitter with intent before he gracefully turned and walked away.

Hob could do nothing but follow, determined to find out just what sort of intent the man had in mind.

They sat across from each other at a table, and Hob felt a bit more confident at being invited. “I never caught your name.”

“Finally remembered to ask, didn't you?” the man arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

“Technically, I still haven't asked,” Hob replied with a cheeky grin.

The corner of the man’s mouth twitched up. “Dream.”

“What?” Hob furrowed his eyebrows, unsure if he heard correctly.

“My name is Dream.”

“Uh-huh,” Hob said, playfully skeptical. “Because you look like a dream?”

“I am telling the truth,” the man’s eyes were twinkling with mirth as he took something out of his wallet, then showed it to Hob.

Hob leaned forward and saw that it was an ID card. “You’re a director?”

“For theatre plays, yes.” The man—Dream—put the ID back in his wallet. “The latest production we’ve done was a retelling of Twelfth Night.”

“Ah, Shakespeare.” Hob must have looked unimpressed, because Dream tilted his head curiously.

“You are not fond of The Bard?”

Hob shrugged. “I’ve always just preferred Christian Marlowe. Though I wouldn’t mind having a Dream for a midsummer’s night,” he winked.

Dream’s lips curved into an amused smile. “It is only the 7th of June, weeks away from midsummer.”

“Well I’d love to see you again then,” Hob said easily, endeared by how Dream knew exactly when midsummer would even be.

“I do not tend to have meetings with strangers,” Dream leaned back in his seat with a playful gaze.

“Oh! My name!” Hob suddenly realised. “Right, sorry.” He got his own ID from his pocket and showed it to Dream. “I’m Hob.”

Dream read it with a curious expression. “Your ID says Robert.”

“Yeah, but my friends call me Hob.” He pocketed the ID again.

“And that is what we are?” There were equal parts intrigue and wonder in Dream’s voice.

“If you’d like…?” Hob said, suddenly unsure what Dream wanted out of this interaction.

Then there was that small smile again, and Hob knew he'd do anything to see it more often. “I would. Hob Gadling.”

The way Dream said his name made Hob’s breath catch in his throat. The soft rumble that came out of those pink lips seemed to caress each syllable as if it were something precious.

“So you’re a manager at a coffee shop?” Dream brought a pretzel to his mouth and his tongue darted out to get it.

Hob tried not to stare too much at that and almost succeeded. “Uh, yeah. I came here to meet up with my mates straight from my shift. I’ve switched jobs a lot, though. I’ve been a handyman, mechanic, even managed a flower shop for a few months.”

“I see. And you enjoy this lifestyle?” The evident interest in Dream’s voice made Hob feel heady.

“I do,” Hob nodded sincerely. “I get to meet different sorts of people, and I learn a lot too. There’s so much to see out there, you know?”

Dream stared at him thoughtfully for a few moments. “But?”

“But… what?” Hob furrowed his eyebrows.

“You seem wistful. Do you wish for a job you haven’t tried yet?”

Hob was so taken aback he felt himself sober up a few degrees. He hadn’t expected to be figured out so quickly and easily by someone he just met.

“I apologise,” Dream said with a concerned frown. “I didn’t mean to ask such a personal question.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Hob hurriedly said, willing himself to calm down from whatever facial expression he’d been wearing. “I was just surprised, that’s all. No one’s read me that well before,” he smiled to lighten the mood.

“Perhaps they weren’t interested enough.”

“In my experience?”

“In you.”

Hob felt a warmth in his chest that seemed to reach his ears. He chuckled and glanced down for a moment. “Well, um, I always wanted to be a professor. Got my degree and everything, all that's left is to actually apply but…” he shrugged. “Things were pretty rough a few years ago, and I wasn’t in the right headspace to have a career with that kind of responsibility. So I took on other jobs first, and I guess I just haven’t broken that habit yet.”

Dream nodded. “I see.” He looked like he wanted to say something else, and Hob recognised that curiosity.

Normally he would redirect the conversation; people didn’t like emotional baggage being brought up during what was supposed to just be a night of flirting, but Dream didn’t seem like the type to prefer shallow conversations. And Hob wasn’t either.

“It was a nasty breakup,” Hob said. “I proposed. Turned out that while I was spending weeks looking for the perfect engagement ring, she was planning her breakup speech.” He huffed out a chuckle. “Took a while to pick myself back up.” He reached for a pretzel and ate it just to have something to do. He hadn’t talked about it in a long time, and he wasn’t sure what reaction to expect.

“I was engaged once,” Dream said, making Hob glance at him. “We had moved to Greece for our jobs. Eventually we realised we were too different, and that the engagement was our last desperate attempt to make things work between us. We broke it off, and I moved back here.” He finished the drink in his glass.

“Ah.” Hob searched for the right words to say. “I didn’t mean to remind you of all that, sorry. And now I feel like a sod complaining about what happened to me,” he chuckled lightly. “You had to move countries and you’re still doing really well in your work.”

Dream shook his head. “Comparing our suffering only compounds it,” he said gently. “Better to focus on what we have now. ‘It’s good to touch the earth with your bare feet,’ as my sister would say,” he gave a small smile.

Hob felt himself smile back. “You said she was the one who dragged you out here tonight, right? I’ll have to thank her for this spontaneous date, then.”

Dream made a huff that was almost a chuckle. “A date? I have not even bought you a drink yet.” He raised a hand to call the attention of a passing waiter. “A glass of vermouth, please. Sweet.” He handed over his empty glass to the waiter and turned to Hob. “And for the gentleman…?”

“Oh, uh, a gin and tonic, please,” Hob told the waiter.

“Right away,” the waiter nodded politely and headed to the bar.

“Hey,” Hob turned to Dream. “I was the one who approached you, I’m the one who should buy you a drink, right?” He had been planning to, but Dream invited him to a table and it took priority in his mind.

“Perhaps you could buy me one on our second date,” Dream smirked playfully. “I believe you said midsummer?”

“I don’t think I can wait that long,” Hob said without thinking. He almost said it was just a joke, but the look in Dream’s eyes was far from disapproving.

The waiter arrived with their drinks and placed them on the table. Dream thanked him without breaking eye contact with Hob.

“Perhaps we shouldn’t.” Dream picked up his glass. “Wait that long.” He took a drink, and Hob’s eyes got drawn to the bob of his throat.

“Are we already planning a second date when the first one isn’t even done yet?” Hob grinned.

“Do you object?” Dream raised an eyebrow.

“No,” Hob said, probably louder than necessary. “Just can’t believe my luck, that’s all.”

They talked over their drinks and pretzels, and Dream turned out to be as good of a talker as a listener. Hob enjoyed listening to his deep voice as Dream told him about the process of reimagining the plays at the theatre, and the cat that he had adopted ever since moving back here, a black Main Coon named Sable. Dream spoke of him with such fondness that Hob almost asked to meet him.

Hob told Dream about his varying work experiences, his realisation that he loved learning new things and meeting all sorts of people, and that was why he couldn’t seem to stay in one job for very long. He talked about how he started buying coffee beans and a coffee maker a few weeks into working at the café because he wanted to experiment with his own recipes, and the regulars who always seemed to cheer up whenever they find a misspelling in their names on the cups, and so Hob sometimes misspelled their names on purpose when they looked like they were having a bad day.

Dream listened, and gave those small smiles that Hob was very nearly getting addicted to. They ordered more drinks, and Hob insisted on paying for some, so Dream paid for chips and then nachos. He encouraged Hob to be a professor on his next career change, and for the first time in a long time, Hob actually considered it.

At some point Hob told the story of his first attempt at making his own espresso drink at home, how he had more confidence than skill and ended up spitting out very expensive ingredients. Dream laughed so brightly that Hob sent a quick message in the groupchat with his friends that he wouldn’t be leaving the bar with them tonight. No matter how this night would end for him and Dream, Hob wanted to spend as much time with him as humanly possible.

***

Hob woke up with a pounding headache and a dry mouth. He groaned and moved to roll to his side, then nearly fell off when his body met what felt like a small table instead of the other side of his bed.

He blinked himself to full consciousness and realised he was on a couch. A fluffy black cat was sitting on the armrest at his feet, regarding him with yellow eyes that shone in the dimness of the living room.

I don't have a cat, Hob’s hungover brain managed.

Bits and pieces of the night before flashed in Hob’s mind. Blue eyes sparkling with mirth. A deep chuckle. Rosy pink lips forming a name.

Hob sat up properly and stared at the cat. “Sable…?” he guessed.

The cat's ears perked up and his tail swished once, his eyes still looking at Hob.

I'm in Dream’s house, Hob realised with awe.

He looked around and took in his surroundings.

Thick curtains were drawn at the windows and the lights were off, keeping the room dim, so he wasn’t sure what time it was. The coffee table appeared to have been dragged to be right next to the couch, judging by the tracks on the carpet. On the table was a glass of water with a plastic lid, next to a small packet of painkillers. There was a Post-It note beside it, and Hob leaned over and squinted to read the smooth cursive.

For your headache. -Dream

He felt himself smile, despite the disorientation. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to remember what exactly happened last night.

“How do you plan on going home?” Dream asked as they exited the bar into the cool night air, Hob leaning against him for support because walking properly was a sober man’s game.

“That’s not fair, you know,” Hob frowned as Dream gently propped him up against the wall. “You drank about as much as me, how are you not wobbling?” he pointed an accusatory finger at Dream.

Dream smiled in amusement. “Did you have dinner at all tonight? Chips and nachos do not count.”

Hob tried to recall the last few hours. “S’pose not. We were gonna order food, me and my mates. But then we saw you and then I walked over and…” he gestured vaguely to nothing in particular. “Here we are.”

Dream sighed, but his gaze looked fond. “If I had known you were operating on an empty stomach, I would have ordered more substantial food with our drinks.” He furrowed his eyebrows in concern. “Will you even be able to take a cab in your state?”

“Sure, I can call one.” Hob pulled out his phone and pressed uselessly at the unlock button a few times before realising the battery was drained. “Hm. S’just a brick now.” He tapped it firmly on his palm a few times as if jostling it would do anything.

“I live just a few blocks from here,” Dream said, watching Hob repeatedly attempt to return his phone to his pocket and finally succeeding at the fifth try. “Can I invite you to stay at my place? Just so you won’t have to travel by yourself tonight.”

Hob perked up at that. He straightened up to agree, but in doing so left the support of the wall. “Woah—”

Dream caught him by the waist before he fell face-first onto the pavement. “Careful.”

Hob grabbed Dream’s shoulders to steady himself, and realised Dream’s arms were around him. “You’re really nice,” he said with a dopey grin. “Your serious face is a bit scary at first, but under that you’re really sweet.” He tapped the tip of Dream’s nose with his finger.

Dream was trying to hold back a smile and only partially succeeding. “You’re drunk.”

“And you’re pretty.” Hob leaned forward to emphasise his point, which made Dream stumble a bit backwards.

Dream chuckled and shook his head fondly. “Come along, my car is parked nearby.”

“Oh my god,” Hob whispered, putting a hand to his reddening face. He probably looked so idiotic last night. He had to find Dream so he could apologise profusely and buy him breakfast or something. Was it even time for breakfast yet?

He turned to Sable. “Hey, buddy. Do you know where I can find your human?”

Sable walked in a circle three times before curling up on the armrest, facing away from Hob. Evidently not wanting anything to do with whatever mess Hob had gotten himself into.

“Yeah, I don't blame you,” Hob sighed.

He straightened up on the couch and took a painkiller, gratefully finishing the entire glass of water. He glanced at the smaller couch next to the wall and noticed that a phone was charging. His phone.

Hob smiled. Dream really was sweet. His drunk self had it right.

He stood up, slowly, because his head still hurt with every movement and it somehow felt very rude to disrupt Sable's nap. The cat had an air of sophistication to him much like his owner; Hob wouldn't be surprised if Dream spoke Greek to Sable.

Hob sat on the smaller couch and turned on his phone. After a few seconds, the screen showed that it was past 10 AM. Bit late for breakfast, then. Where was Dream? Hob doubted that he would leave his house with a practical stranger in it.

A series of notifications on his phone drew his attention. Some of them were messages from last night, replies from his friends in the groupchat when Hob said they could leave the bar without him. They were playfully cheering him on and that was that.

Though the next batch of messages was still coming in, arriving one after the other now that Hob’s phone was able to receive them.

Hal: @Hob darling did you make it home safe?

Ken: how was tall pale n handsome

Frank: guys he’s not even seeing the messages 👀

Ken: probably still asleep

Ken: all shagged out

Abel: what’s happening? i don’t join one night out and suddenly hob’s getting laid???

Hal: hopefully 💕

Frank: holy shit did the pickup lines work

Hob chuckled and shook his head. He began to type out a reply that yes he was safe, and no he was not shagged out by any means and only just made a fool of himself.

He was about to hit send when he realised he wasn’t wearing the same shirt he had on last night. In fact, he didn’t recognise these clothes at all. He was pretty sure he didn’t own a white sweater with the design of a black cat on it, and the grey sweatpants he was currently wearing wasn’t his either.

What.

He locked his phone and placed it down beside him. What else happened?

They stumbled into the living room, Dream closing the front door while Hob’s arm was around his shoulders. He switched on the light and got Hob to sit on the couch. It was cooler indoors compared to the warmth of Dream’s car, and Hob made a noise of complaint when Dream made a move to disentangle himself from Hob’s side.

“I shall get you some water,” Dream explained and stood up.

Hob’s brain didn’t process the words and at that moment he only cared that Dream’s warmth was leaving him. He reached out and clumsily pulled Dream back; Dream gave a surprised shout as they both flailed and fell over, Hob landing flat on his back on the couch with Dream on top of him.

Dream’s blue eyes were wide with surprise, his dark hair looking as soft as clouds. Hob wanted to touch but was afraid of ruining it somehow. Clouds weren’t meant to be touched, only admired. Or else they would disappear into mist or raindrops and be gone.

“You’re beautiful,” Hob breathed, his hands resting on Dream’s back.

Dream’s gaze softened and his lips lifted at the corners, and Hob felt his heart race at being so close to that smile. So close.

“As you are,” Dream said quietly, his warm breath caressing Hob’s mouth.

“‘Specially your eyes,” Hob continued. “They light up. When you talk about your cat. And that bloke Shakespeare. What’s so good about ‘im anyway?” he frowned.

Dream chuckled and dipped his head, lightly touching their foreheads together for a moment before looking at Hob again.

“And then I thought…” Hob tried to find the words. It felt important to say them. “I’d do anything for you to look at me like that. With that bright fondness in your eyes.”

Dream’s smile melted off his face, replaced by a look of surprise.

“And then you did,” Hob’s kept speaking quietly, just loud enough for Dream to hear. “When I told you I’d live a hundred more years because there’s so much to live for. I dunno why you looked at me that way when I said it, but you did. And I wanted to kiss you right then.”

Dream swallowed, his eyes dropping to Hob’s mouth.

“I still do,” Hob whispered. He reached up and brushed a lock of hair from Dream’s forehead.

“Hob,” Dream’s tone held a warning, though it was softened by the waver in his voice.

“Dream…” Hob let his hand drop to the side of Dream’s face, his thumb lightly brushing over a pale cheekbone, watching a hint of pink blossom on the skin.

He kept his gentle hold on Dream’s face as they moved closer, their noses touching, their breaths mixing as their parted lips were only a hair’s breadth away—

Hob’s eyes were wide as he sat frozen on the couch. His heart raced and his cheeks flushed at the memory. But… that was it. His memories ended there.

He shut his eyes tight and desperately tried to remember what happened next. If he and Dream kissed then surely, surely, he would remember it? The press of those soft pink lips, the slide of tongue against his own…

He opened his eyes and huffed out a breath in exasperation. Nothing. And he’s wearing Dream’s clothes! If they did shag and he couldn’t remember a second of it, he would never forgive himself. He would swear off drinking forever if it meant he could remember it all.

“Ah, I see you've met Sable.”

Hob’s eyes snapped up to the sound of that voice.

Dream was standing by the other couch and scratching Sable under the chin. Sable was purring appreciatively and leaning into Dream’s touch, and Dream glanced down at the cat with such soft fondness on his face that it calmed Hob’s nerves.

“Would you care to join me in the dining room?” Dream turned to Hob again. “I just finished cooking.” He was wearing a blue apron over a black sweater similar to Hob’s, and black joggers that hung low on his hips.

“I…” Hob had so many questions and no idea how to voice out any of them. “You cooked?” he said instead.

Dream nodded. “Given that it was my fault you didn’t get to eat dinner last night, I thought it only polite to make breakfast for you. Although it’s technically brunch now.”

“Yeah, um…” Hob stood up but wasn’t sure what to say. He still couldn’t remember the entirety of last night—to his eternal regret—and he didn’t know what their dynamic was supposed to be now. “Thanks for charging my phone,” he smiled and gestured to it.

“It’s fortunate that we have the same model,” Dream returned the smile. He gave Sable a few scratches behind the ears before the cat decided to move to where Hob had been sleeping, scratching his claws a few times into the cushions before stretching his body and lying down to continue his nap.

Hob remembered reading somewhere that cats scratched at furniture to leave their scent and mark their territory, and Sable doing that to the place where Hob had been seemed quite telling.

“Shall we head to the dining room while the food is still warm?” Dream asked.

Hob nodded and followed him.

The rest of the house wasn’t nearly as dim as the living room; all the curtains were open and sunlight streamed in, dappling softly on the floor and furniture.

“Oh, should I keep the curtains closed here as well?” Dream must have noticed him staring at the windows.

“What?” Hob turned to him. “No, it’s fine… Wait, you kept the living room dark for me?”

Dream nodded. “Bright light is painful for hangovers. I can draw the curtains here too, if you’d like. Have a seat, please,” he gestured to the dining table before removing his apron and hanging it on a hook in the kitchen.

“No, it’s okay, I don’t mind the sunlight,” Hob said as he sat down.

Dream took a seat across from him, and without the apron Hob could see that his black sweater was dotted with white stars.

“Hob,” Dream’s voice resurfaced in Hob’s memory.

“Dream…” Hob brushed his thumb over a smooth cheekbone.

Dream’s pupils were blown wide, almost covering all the blue of his eyes. They reflected the light, and Hob could imagine the pinpricks of white to be galaxies, and he was more than willing to get lost in them.

Dream’s weight was pressing him down pleasantly on the couch, and Hob’s eyes fluttered shut, his breath held in anticipation as Dream leaned in closer.

“Hob? Are you alright?”

Hob grabbed the pitcher of water and poured himself a glass, gulping everything down. “Mm-hm.”

He kept remembering that moment on the couch, and he could feel his mind dangerously close to filling in the blanks of what could have happened, and he really needed to cool down instead of fantasising about the man in front of him who he may or may not have slept with.

“Did you take the painkiller?”

“Yeah, I did. Thanks for that, by the way,” Hob tried for a smile, but he still couldn’t quite meet Dream’s eyes. He looked around at the food and tried to decide which one to get first.

“I… apologise.”

Hob looked at Dream and saw that his shoulders were tense and drawn up, like he was trying to look formal and hide himself at the same time.

“Is this… too much?” Dream’s gaze was guarded but Hob thought he glimpsed a hint of sadness in them. “You may leave anytime you wish, of course. I just thought… you might want some food.” He glanced down but kept his posture straight. “But if you prefer to go—”

“What? No, Dream—” Hob suddenly felt panicked. Did he just hurt Dream somehow? “I don’t wanna leave. Why would you think that?”

Dream met his eyes and frowned in confusion. “You seem… uncomfortable. I am aware that our agreement was only for you to stay the night, and it is nearly noon now. So I understand if—”

“Dream, it’s not that,” Hob didn’t want him to think those things at all. “I just…” he shifted in his seat. “Why… Why am I wearing your clothes…?” Might as well be direct about it.

Dream’s eyebrows lifted in surprise.

“I don’t remember, I’m sorry,” Hob blurted out. “I— Fuck,” he breathed, running a hand down his face. “I want to remember. God, the first time I wake up with missing memories in someone else’s home and it’s with you of all people. I’m… I’m so sorry, Dream,” he shook his head in remorse.

Dream blinked, his shoulders relaxing. “Hob. Why would you apologise for such a thing?”

“Well I don't want you to think that it didn't mean anything to me,” Hob’s eyes dropped to his plate and he fidgeted with his fork. “Which it did, whatever it was. Whether it was just a— a kiss or— or something else—” he stammered and looked to see Dream’s reaction.

Realisation appeared on Dream's face, and an amused smile slowly graced his lips and brightened his features. “Hob Gadling. If we had slept together, why would you be on the couch and not my bed?”

“I don't know!” Hob said defensively, his cheeks heating up. “Maybe we didn't make it to the bedroom? I don't remember!”

Dream looked down and was really trying hard to fight a smile. The adorable sight of it began to calm Hob a bit, especially when Dream met his eyes again. “I would have taken you to my bed. I'll have you know I'm a gentleman. Unless requested otherwise,” he added in a low voice and smirked.

Hob’s breath hitched. God, this man was going to kill him.

Then something sparked in his mind, a memory that surfaced after Dream's remark about being a gentleman.

Dream’s lips were so close to his that Hob could almost taste them.

Then Dream pulled away and placed a firm hand on Hob’s chest. “Tomorrow,” he said decisively, a slight tremble in his voice.

Hob opened his eyes.

“Tomorrow. If this is still what you want,” Dream explained, then he pulled away entirely and stood up, disappearing from Hob’s field of vision.

Hob blinked repeatedly, still reeling from the whiplash. Dream was going to kiss him, right? What happened?

“For now, you must hydrate or your mouth will feel so parched tomorrow.” Dream had returned, and Hob instinctively sat up at the sound of his voice.

He knocked over the glass that Dream had been handing over to him, spilling the water all over his shirt and trousers.

Hob flinched back and grimaced. “Cold.”

“Oh dear.” Dream picked up the now empty glass that had fallen on the couch and placed it on the coffee table. “I shall get you a change of clothes. Wait here, and please don't touch anything else or you might hurt yourself. Stay here, do you understand?” Dream cupped Hob’s face and gently lifted it to make Hob look at him.

Hob smiled at the feeling of Dream’s hand on his skin, and he nodded. “I'll wait for you.”

Dream smiled fondly and walked away.

“Oh,” Hob said in realisation, the memories coming back to him.

“You remember now?”

“Yeah,” Hob nodded. “You handed me the clothes and I just took off my shirt right there, because somehow it made sense to me to just change in front of you,” he cringed. “And then that was when you left, right?”

“Yes,” Dream said with an amused smile. “I said a hasty good night and retreated to my room before you decided to take off your trousers as well.”

“Yeah I remember that too,” Hob put a hand to his temple, his headache had dulled but the sudden wave of embarrassment seemed to be worsening it. “Can we eat now? I think I'd rather forget about everything again.”

Dream laughed, a soft and bright one that immediately put Hob at ease. “Of course.”

It was a pleasant surprise, how easily they slipped back into comfortable conversation after all the misunderstanding and awkwardness. They finished eating and Hob insisted that he would wash the dishes since Dream already cooked everything.

“Thanks again for letting me crash at your couch,” Hob said as he put the last of the dishes in the drying rack. “I don't think I've gotten that drunk since uni.”

“I just didn't want you waking up at a bus station somewhere,” Dream quipped and finished putting the leftovers in the fridge.

Hob chuckled and leaned back against the counter. “So uh, do you have any plans today? What do you usually do on Saturdays?”

Dream stood beside him and leaned on the counter too, crossing his arms thoughtfully. “It varies. Sometimes I’d go to a restaurant I’d never been to before, or visit my friend who works at the library. Oh, and there’s a museum a short drive away that holds a different art gallery every month. I try to see the new exhibits whenever I can. I had no prior plans for today, though.” He tilted his head slightly to the side. “Do you have anything in mind?”

Hob grinned, he couldn’t help it; Dream wanted to keep spending time with him. “I do, yeah. There’s a park here that recently displayed murals because it’s summer, they got a theme going on and everything. I think the artworks are made by high school and college kids. I’ve passed by it a few times but never really got to see it yet. What do you think?”

Dream’s eyes lit up, and Hob knew he’d take him anywhere just to see that again. “I would gladly see the murals with you. Are they accessible at any time or is there a scheduled exhibit?”

“Let me check. They posted it online.” Hob instinctively reached for his pockets but found them empty. “Oh right, my phone's in the living room.”

“Ah. I would check the schedule myself, but I'm afraid something's wrong with my phone.” Dream took his phone from the counter, then unlocked it and looked down at the screen.

Hob furrowed his eyebrows. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Your phone number's not in it.” Dream held it out to Hob, a smirk playing on his lips.

Hob just stared in surprise for a few seconds before chuckling in disbelief. Of all the people he would have expected to use a pickup line, Dream wasn’t one of them. He wasn’t complaining about receiving it, though.

He took Dream’s phone and began typing in his number. “Couldn’t wait, huh?” he said playfully. “You know I’m not just leaving, love. We’re still going to that park.” The endearment slipped out without Hob intending it to, and he snapped up his gaze to look at Dream’s reaction. Luckily Dream didn’t seem to mind.

“I enjoyed our conversation so much last night that I had forgotten to ask for your phone number. I would not risk it happening again,” Dream said as he took his phone back.

“I’m actually relieved to hear that,” Hob sheepishly tugged at his earlobe. “I’d been a bit worried that I was too knackered last night and might have made such a fool of myself. I enjoyed our time together too, and I’m glad I remember all of it now, even the embarrassing moments.”

“Oh make no mistake, you were undoubtedly knackered last night,” Dream said with fond amusement. “But I never once thought you were a fool.” He pressed something on his phone and Hob heard his ringtone coming from the living room. “And now you have my number as well.”

Hob grinned. “Am I supposed to follow the three-day-rule and wait three days before calling you?”

“Already planning a second date when the first one isn’t even done yet?” Dream repeated Hob’s words from last night.

“And a third, if you've got no objections,” Hob raised his eyebrows playfully.

“Oh?” Dream straightened up and took a step closer. “And what third date activities do you have in mind?” His gaze lowered and slowly climbed back up, scanning Hob’s body until their eyes met again.

Hob felt goosebumps prickle on his skin as if Dream were actually touching him. He wet his lips with his tongue, catching how Dream’s eyes followed the movement. “I've got a few activities in mind, yeah. Though I don't know if I wanna wait until three dates.”

“Is that so?” A smirk pulled at the corner of Dream’s mouth as he took another step closer, his voice dropping to a low rumble. “Tell me, what do you desire?”

Hob swallowed. “You can't just say things like that with that voice.”

“What voice?” Dream took another step and he was near enough now that Hob could see how soft his eyelashes looked.

“Last night, you said something…” Hob reached up and traced with light fingers the star patterns on Dream's sweater, near his neckline, his shoulders, because if he didn't touch Dream in some way he might just implode.

“We both said a great deal of things last night.”

“You said…” Hob lifted his hand to Dream's chin, his thumb sweeping softly just under the bottom lip. “If this is still what I wanted…” he stared into Dream’s eyes, his heart hammering in anticipation.

Dream surged forward and suddenly Hob was pressed back against the counter, Dream’s lips against his.

A surprised—and very pleased—groan slipped out of Hob, his hands flying to cup Dream’s face.

Dream’s hands were on the counter, Hob caged in his arms. And damn if Hob didn't feel a certain way about that.

Hob could have lived forever in this moment, the soft slide of their tongues, the warmth of Dream’s body against his. But Dream’s mouth brushed down his jawline and onto his neck, clever lips and tongue making his blood run hotter.

Hob could only whimper and throw his head back to give Dream more access. He buried his hands in Dream’s hair, soft midnight threading through his fingers. Dream nipped at his sensitive flesh, and Hob’s hips twitched of their own accord.

Dream made a pleased hum and moved his kisses upwards. “My bedroom is nearby, unless you are partial to the couch. I could ask Sable to give us some privacy,” he said teasingly, his breath hot against Hob’s ear.

“Anywhere,” Hob gasped as Dream gently bit his earlobe. “Fuck, you can have me on the dining table.”

Dream chuckled and slid his hands from Hob’s waist to his stomach and up to his chest, fists clenching in the front of Hob's shirt. He pulled away just enough to look at Hob. “Nonsense. Gentleman, remember?” He stepped back and yanked Hob towards the bedroom with a force that was decidedly not gentlemanly.

Dream’s back slammed against the closed door as Hob pressed their lips and bodies together again, the few seconds they were apart becoming too unbearable. Dream managed to turn the knob behind him and they stumbled into the bedroom, only parting long enough to practically tear each other's sweaters off.

Hob fell backwards onto the bed, bringing Dream down with him. They were a tangle of limbs and sighs and groans, then Dream was straddling him, grinding his hips down and driving Hob near delirious with want.

Dream was breathing heavily above him, and Hob wanted more of it. Wanted to see this beautiful creature give in to pleasure.

He reached a hand between them and palmed at the hard bulge tenting Dream’s joggers.

Dream gave a cry of surprise and broke the kiss to gasp, and Hob wasted no time in freeing Dream’s cock from the confines of his clothes. He began a slow stroke, and Dream leaned forward to latch his mouth onto Hob’s neck, lavishing it with attention that sent more heat straight to Hob's groin.

Hob clenched his jaw—even as a moan escaped him—and sped up his hand around Dream’s length, precome slicking the way and causing Dream’s hips to twitch.

“Hob,” Dream breathed against the shell of his ear, and for a second Hob thought he would come just from hearing his name in that voice, with Dream’s hips erratically rolling above his cock through layers of fabric.

“Let go for me, love,” Hob’s voice sounded wrecked to his own ears.

He twisted his hand and Dream came with a whine, burying his face in Hob’s neck and spending all over Hob's hand. His hips were still stuttering when he pressed their foreheads together, his eyelids fluttering as he caught his breath.

Hob slowed his strokes to a stop, his other hand cupping Dream’s face. “Good?” he asked gently, fond and teasing.

Dream pulled away to meet Hob’s gaze, and it was enough to melt Hob’s grin off his face as he saw the intensity in those blue eyes.

Dream shifted to move further backwards, and before Hob knew what was happening, Dream had positioned himself between Hob’s parted legs and pulled down the sweatpants to reveal Hob’s straining cock.

Hob couldn't look away, anticipating Dream’s long fingers wrapped around him, and so he yelped when Dream used his mouth instead, the soft heat enveloping Hob and setting his nerves on fire. Hob’s eyes fell shut, his elbows trembling as he leaned back on the mattress.

Dream worked him slowly, taking him in inch by torturous inch as his tongue swirled in ways that left Hob breathless and squirming and doing his very best not to thrust into Dream’s sinful mouth.

Hob sank further down Dream’s throat, and his arms finally gave out as he felt Dream swallow around him. His head hit the pillow and he clenched his hands into the sheets, a wounded groan reverberating in his chest.

“Dream… Dream… Fuck—” his hips jerked upwards when he felt a light graze of teeth on the underside of his cock. His thighs were trembling, and desperate moans laced with Dream’s name kept slipping past his lips.

Dream hummed around him and moved his hands to stroke the inside of Hob's thighs, all at once soothing and fueling the fire that was very quickly pooling low in Hob’s belly. Dream bobbed his head up and down languidly, and it was all too much and not nearly enough.

“Please,” Hob sobbed. His entire body felt aflame, and he couldn't take another second of it even as he wanted it to last forever.

Dream took him down to the hilt and swallowed repeatedly, his fingernails raking lightly along Hob’s thighs.

Hob arched his back and came with a garbled cry, unable to stop the tremors running through him.

Dream kept swallowing, making Hob thrash his head from side to side as he was flung higher and higher.

Hob must have blacked out for a second, because when he opened his eyes, Dream was looming over him with a satisfied smirk.

“Good?” Dream licked his bottom lip.

Hob was still panting, and it took a few seconds for enough oxygen to get into his brain for him to form words. “I'm so glad we did this today and not last night,” he said breathlessly. “No way in hell I'll forget this.”

Dream huffed out a laugh and nestled himself beside Hob, his face snuggled at the crook of Hob's neck, his hand idly drawing circles on Hob’s chest.

“You can stay the weekend, if you'd like.” Dream's voice was quiet, tinged with hesitance, as if Hob would ever say no to that while of sound mind and body.

Hob regained control of his limbs and wrapped an arm around Dream, turning to face him and pulling him closer. “Sounds perfect, love,” he rested his chin on Dream's hair. “Would give me more than enough time to get you back for what you just put me through.”

Dream chuckled low in his chest. “I would love to see you try, Hob Gadling.”

“Oh, I will.” Hob closed his eyes and let himself get lost in the even rhythm of their breathing, settling into their embrace as if they were always meant to fit in each other's arms.

—

Author's Note:

Thank you to @patchyegg87 for all the help with this fic! <3

—

(Dreamling Bingo Masterpost)

(Masterlist)

[mlm-writer]

Home (Peter Parker x GN!Reader)

Pairing:  Peter Parker (TASM) x Gender Neutral Reader Rating: General Audiences (except for one swear word) Words: 1652 POV: Second Summary: The Big Tober Day 2 - Love Confession Tags: college AU, you're both studying mechanical engineering, Peter is a genius, you're just ken, fluff, kinda cheesy and kissing

It’s always something. You can never have a normal exam week, where you just spend your days in the library surrounded by fellow students, mutually fuelled by caffeine and stress. Supervillain of the week literally burned down the public library and there was an alien spacecraft that crashed into your favourite café. It felt like you still had a million chapters to read and another five thousand words to write for an essay and not to forget that your stupid project partner still has not even opened the Google Slides link you sent them. 

A long sigh, mixed with a frustrated growl left you as you once again couldn’t find a single spot on campus to sit down and study. It was always crowded like this during exam week. If you wanted a good spot, you better come to campus at 6:30am, but who had the energy for that? Fortunately for you, there was a small pebble on the road that led through the fields of yellowed grass between the main building and the main gate. You kicked it as hard as you could, letting all your woes leave you through your foot and into that little rock. It flew forward and - unexpectedly - up. “Oh shit!” You exclaimed as you followed its trajectory with your eyes. It was going straight for someone’s head, but before you could tell the brunet to watch out, he turned around and caught the pebble midair. 

When he was turned around, you recognised him. Out of all people for that pebble to almost hit, it just had to be your crush. “Peter!” You called out to him as you jogged over. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to kick it your way… good catch by the way.” 

Peter held the pebble in his fist and smiled at you; he was so cute when he did that. “Oh hey!” He beamed at you. When you complimented his catch, he hid his hands behind him and avoided eye contact. “Thanks, I got uh… good reflexes.” He cleared his throat and then looked at you. “Already done with studying for the day?”

You let out another frustrated sigh. “Ha! I wish. I came here to study, but it is fuller than a Blackpink concert stadium here. Guess I’ll have to settle for my tiny desk in my shoe-box dorm room.” 

Peter snorted at your comparison. He seemed to want to say something, but he was hesitant about it. “Uh…” You raised your brows at him, awaiting his words. “I just uh… finished my final presentation for the thermodynamics course-”

“Oh how did that go?” “Got an A, but that’s not important-”

“Not important? Bro, you’re kidding, that's great!”

Peter was getting a little red. You liked how humble he was in spite of how smart he was. He was a little awkward, but during presentations, he often had his own flavour of charisma that made you listen instantly. He was good on the eyes too…

“Uhm, thank you… what I wanted to say is uh… I’m going home now to study. My aunt won’t be home until late and you’re free to join me at my dinner table - to study, I mean, but you’re welcome to join for dinner too of course!” 

You kept forgetting Peter still doesn’t live on his own. Sometimes you envied him, sometimes you were happy with your freedom. “Are you sure? That’d be really cool. Studying together is way more fun than on my own anyway. Oh, do you maybe have notes for our material science course that I could borrow?” 

A little later those notes were in front of you as you were seated at Peter’s dinner table. You had never been in his home before, but the Earthy tones and natural lights just made it feel like a home. There was love in the pictures that decorated the place, there was personality in the old books that scattered the house, one of a shelf on the wall, another one next to a vase with flowers, another on the side table by the couch… 

“Here you go!” Peter put a glass of juice next to you. You thanked him with a smile. You did not realise how your warm smile fit right in that room, how it made Peter’s heart leap and his stomach flip upside down. He just sat down across from you like there was nothing going on. 

You managed to concentrate for a good half hour, but after that your eyes drifted up and caught onto a sight that was way better than a schematic drawing of how tension affects different materials. Peter had this cute frown of concentration on his face, a pencil balancing between his lips as he typed something up on his laptop. He abruptly paused and looked straight at you. The change was so sudden; your eyes widened, before you forced them back onto Peter’s notes. Your face felt hot. Peter definitely caught you staring and you had no idea what he thought of it. Did he suspect you fantasised about kissing him whenever he info-dumped on you? Did he know how his smile could light up your whole day? Did he have a clue or was he just that oblivious? Most smart people were.

Suddenly, Peter let his head fall onto the dinner table. “I can’t do this anymore!” He exclaimed. You gave him a worried look, not that he saw it with his face planted in his notes. 

“Wow, I didn’t know even the genius Peter Parker suffered from exam breakdown,” you commented. You genuinely thought Peter thought exams were a breeze. His grades were all exemplary, except that one time he was down with the flu so bad, you didn’t see him for three weeks. 

“That’s not it! I’m-” he lifted his head. He was clearly upset, but as he rose from his seat to walk back and forth along the kitchen counters, he couldn’t put a single sentence together. He had paced the length of his kitchen at least five times, before he spoke up again. “This is so not how I envisioned this going, but I feel like I am gonna burst if I don’t say this now!” He walked over to you and, in an incredible display of strength, turned your chair with you on it to face away from the table. His arms were caging you, holding the back of the old, wooden furniture. “I’m so in love with you and…” He seemed to realise what he said and physically backed up until his back was against the wall. 

You didn’t know what to say. It was hard to believe your ears. You just stared at him in shock as Peter did that thing you adored so much – rattling on like someone who did not prepare enough text to fill up their 30-minutes presentation. “And I don’t need you to feel the same, sorry, that was coming off a little strong, but I mean it. It’s like I’m in pain when I’m around you and I can’t hold you. Wait no that’s cheesy. Is it? I don’t even know, you make me wanna say cheesy stuff!” Peter was suddenly very interested in the couch in the living room, his eyes never leaving it as more words poured uncontrollably from his mouth. “When you look at me all my instincts are telling me you feel the same, but it could be wishful thinking, but I am so sure, but what if I’m wrong, I mean if I AM wrong, then that’s fine, I just…” 

You stood up. Peter immediately shut up, eyes shifting to the floor. He looked like a child caught with his fingers in the cookie jar. You took a deep breath to settle your nerves and then closed the distance quickly, putting one hand on the wall behind Peter. Your classmate froze up and you wanted to relieve him of his nerves, but you had your own that clogged up your throat and wound your vocal cords tight like a scrunchie holding a very heavy ponytail. “Whenever you talk, I never want you to shut up, but when I look at your lips moving, I cannot think about anything but making you shut up with my own.” 

Peter looked up, glistening eyes pulling you in. You were scanning each other’s faces, both scared this was all just some prank or a dream. “I’m going to ruin this moment by talking about material science if you don’t shut me up right now,” he almost whispered. You chuckled and put an arm around him, pulling him against you until your lips met. It was like coming home, like hot chocolate in winter, like a cosy blanket by the window on a rainy day. 

Your lips touched like they were meant to do so from day one. It was your first kiss together and yet it felt like you had been doing this for ages. Your whole body felt like it was going haywire and the look in Peter’s eyes when you parted did not help. Neither of you said anything, kissing in the kitchen over and over again, as if you were memorising each other’s taste, while you should be memorising that schematic you still had open on your laptop. 

When you finally found it in you to take a step back from Peter, you were both smiling giddily at each other. You broke the silence between you two, before Peter did. “All jokes aside, I actually do need you to talk to me about material science. I think I’ll be much more concentrated when you explain it.” 

Peter let out a chuckle. “Ok, but when exams are over, you are buying me dinner.” 

You slowly walked back to your chair. “I’ll even throw in a movie as well,” you replied, suddenly feeling a lot better about your exams. 

—————

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[kenyaru]

STILL HURTS | 02

I MISSED YOU... synopsis | the next day, the ex-couple meets up as planned at the Bean Scene to talk it out. bradley is nervous, but he knows he needs to do this, to be open and break past his shell and keep max in his life; he does love him after all. genre | fluff, making up, lovey-dovey, bradley ooc, mixed-pov (brad/max) pairing | max goof x bradley uppercrust iii (maxley) warnings | L-bombs (a lot srry!), sappy lol, mild cursing word count | 2.05k author's note | hi! thanks SO much for the support on part 1! I'm glad everyone liked it- and here is the awaited sequel. i hope it's not too ooc for Brad, but I feel he would be genuinely apologetic as Max has been the only one to trust him. i'm considering doing a ken sato oneshot or something else; not too sure yet! lmk any requests! enjoy reading! <3

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Once that final text was sent, Bradley’s mind finally felt at ease. The brunette had spent weeks trying to get through to his ex-lover, a multitude of calls and messages to hopefully get a chance to explain himself. But even he didn’t believe in his own words. He knew what he said was wrong- how he acted based on his insecure feelings, how he basically called Max a slur indirectly. Bradley knew now what it was, how it felt to take someone for granted; you never know how much you needed them until they were gone. Bradley had been in a wreck of his own emotions and guilt. Every waking moment was as if his heart was on fire and crumbling, burning at the stake of his own actions and forcing him to replay their argument over and over again in his mind. 

Everything he did reminded him of Max; grabbing coffee at the Bean Scene, the occasional awkward glances at P.J. and Bobby in the library, skating. Skating definitely hurt the most. That was what they bonded over, and doing it alone, that was a new type of pain that Bradely wasn’t ready for. 

He knew Max needed space and was willing to give him that, but a part of him didn’t know how much longer he could wait. He felt anxious with every day gone by that his message was left unread, that Max was so clearly ignoring him in every way possible. Bradley hadn’t seen Max’s beautiful black eyes or his adorable smile in a little over a month and he was losing it. Scrolling through their old photos, opening his contact and hovering over the call button over and over- he was so lost without Max. But, finally, it seemed like all this hell took a pause when Bradely saw Max’s name pop up in his recent messages. Finally, after so long he got a response. He opened it so fast he didn’t even have a chance to process, to let his thoughts overthink and suspect what the other had messaged. 

Bradley responded quickly, putting his phone on the charger and headed into the bathroom to brush his teeth before heading to bed. He wasn’t entirely confident in being ready, but he was sure as hell ready enough to see Max. He just prayed the feelings he felt were reciprocated and that they could move on from this, that Max could understand him. 

—————-

Just as he texted, Bradley was up and awake, at the Bean Scene around 5:45 to order himself and Max’s usual coffee. He knew they would need it. He didn’t even realize he was tapping his leg, running an anxious hand through his hair as he struggled to keep his composure. He was glad no one was here to watch this; to see someone usually so confident crumble at just the thought of someone else’s disappointment in him.

That was Max’s power over him. 

Just as he suspected, Max walked in at around 6:05, he was checking the time as often as he could, so of course he knew the exact moment the ravenette entered the cafe. Max spotted him rather quickly too, making his way over and taking a seat across from Bradley. 

Bradley didn’t know how to start. Should he reach out to him? He really wanted to hug him or hold his hand, but he knew that was too much to ask for right now. The dim lights beamed down on them, creating a calm atmosphere that didn’t help to ease the tension. 

Before he could even process, Max beat him to the first word. 

“Hey.” Max’s voice sounded softer, somehow sadder, like being there was a detriment to his emotions. It broke Bradley’s heart. 

“Hi.” Bradley responded, his voice matching the tone, though his mind was racing. He gently pushed Max’s cup towards him. “Got you your usual.” 

Max gave him a smile, taking the cup in his hands, feeling the warmth spread through his body from the cup. He could smell the slightly sweet aroma from the vanilla latte, his mouth remembering the sweet taste. He took a sip, relishing in it, and feeling his slightly tired mood beginning to lift. Bradley always knew how to get to him; just the right ways to make him feel better. 

But his heart didn’t feel completely at ease, and Bradley could tell that. So, he decided to push past the anxiety and start the conversation. 

“I should have never said that to you.” Bradley started. He didn’t want to start with ‘sorry.’ Even if he knew it would come out easier, it would sound fake, and he meant everything but.

“I let my insecurities get in the way,” He gripped his own coffee cup in his hands, the heat radiating just as Max’s did. “And I said things I didn’t mean. I don’t think you would do that to me, and I’m so, so sorry for accusing you.” 

Bradley could see Max’s eyes, see as he considered what Bradley was saying and was thinking of his own response. 

“Do you know how much it hurts? To hear you accuse me of something like that when my heart has only been for you?” 

Bradley could hear the strain in his voice, how he was already getting emotional. He hated it; hated being the one that caused that, that caused this pain in the person that he was supposed to love. Of course he wouldn’t, of course he wouldn’t know what it felt like. He imagined it to be horrible and offensive. He wouldn’t forgive himself either. 

“I know, that’s why I wanted to talk to you. I..” 

Bradley felt like he couldn’t get his thoughts straight, like Max being there was making this all the more difficult. But he had to do it. He had to show Max that he was being genuine, which he was, and that what he said wasn’t his true feelings. 

“I said that to you because I was..still nervous. I was still scared that you were more interested in picking up girls than dating me. And fuck, I realized how wrong I was.” 

Bradley didn’t know what his expression looked like, but the way Max’s eyes shifted when he looked at him meant something. 

“Angel, I am in love with you. I regretted every moment since then that we couldn’t talk, that you were hurting, that I couldn’t explain myself to you.” 

He knew he sounded pitiful and desperate, but he meant every word. He felt hopeless without Max. He used to hate this feeling; having to rely on someone. But, this wasn’t reliance, this was realization. Love. 

Max didn’t answer for a little, taking another sip of his coffee, contemplating what to say. Bradley hated the silence. 

Finally, Max spoke up. 

“How will I know..you won’t say that again? That you won’t let your insecurities get in the way?” 

Max asked softly, looking down at the lid of his coffee cup. 

“If you were still unsure, why didn’t you just ask me? You know I wouldn't hesitate to reassure you..” 

Max was right, and Bradley knew it too. Max was the type of partner to reassure when needed and try to lift the other up, and Bradley knew that. So why, why, would he say such a thing just because he felt a way? There was no excuse. 

Bradley didn’t answer, he couldn’t. Every response sounded like an excuse. Maybe he wasn’t ready for a relationship. This wasn’t the first time he messed up either; there were a few little arguments here and there, but it felt like this was the big bad. 

Bradley wanted to say something, but before he could, Max was already getting up. He took some money and coins out of his pocket and put it on the table.

“I think I just need some more time. I thought I was ready, but I’m not sure..” 

Before he could think, Bradley got to his feet and took a hold of Max’s arm. What was he doing? What was he planning to say to make Max stay? This was too much, just- 

“Max, I’m sorry. I know I can’t change what I said, and I know I need to work on my personal feelings about myself, but I love you, and I realize now more than ever that you are the only person I would trust with my heart.” 

Max’s breath hitched. He felt his heart beat in his chest as he heard Bradley’s confession. Bradley had trusted him, believed in him rather, and he knew that he would be the one to help him with those complex feelings that were holding him back.

Max was conflicted. He wanted to forgive, to give his love the chance that he deserved, but he knew that there was a chance this could happen again. Maybe that was the exact reason he had to forgive. No one had treated him how Bradley did, romantically at least. Max got the protective treatment from his Dad all the time, but getting it from a lover was a different story. 

It felt great to be pampered and get kissed and be seen as someone greater than himself. He knew Bradley would try for him, especially now that he had confessed it to him semi-publically. 

“Do you mean that?” 

Bradley’s heart jumped as he pulled Max to face him, looking into his dark eyes with a serious expression. 

“Yes, I do. I swear.” 

Ever since the Gammas exiled him, Bradley was sure he wouldn’t be accepted again, would be by himself and have no one by his side. But then Max, the one guy who he caused trouble for, stepped out and gave him that chance. He would never forget it. That was his Heaven on earth. Seeing Max’s beautiful face in the mists of the dark clouds, hearing his words of comfort and acceptance. 

Max gave him a smile. The smile he had missed so much before taking Bradley’s hand in his and returning the expression, but softer. 

“I believe you,” Max said, moving in a little closer before speaking again. “I love you too, but you need to be sure that you will be open and that if you feel those things, you would let me know.” 

Bradley could feel his heart thump loudly in his ears as Max’s calm voice filled his head. He nodded, hesitating before moving, deciding to ask the obvious question. 

“Can I hug you?” 

Max nodded, pulling Bradley in for the hug and holding him close. Finally, he could be in his embrace again. Bradley felt warmth spread all throughout his body as he took in Max’s scent and the way his t-shirt felt against his fingers. It was what he needed, what he desired. He was down bad.

Max lifted his head from Bradley’s shoulder and looked at him once again. 

“I’m sorry for ignoring you. I was just overwhelmed and…” 

Bradley knew that Max was going to spew into apologies; the Goofy in him couldn’t handle Bradley being the only one apologizing. Bradley gave him a smile and gently kissed his lips as a way of stopping his sentence. 

“Angel, I understand. You should be the last one apologizing.” 

Bradley moved his hand to gently caress the others’ cheek, admiring his features. 

“Are you sure we’re okay? Like, we’re still together and everything? I know last time we spoke, we kind of..” 

Max shook his head, debunking any of Bradley’s theories regarding their current relationship. He couldn’t imagine not dating him. 

“Yeah, we are. You even bought me coffee; automatic plus.” 

Bradley chuckled softly at this comment. This is what he missed about Max: their casual banter, and the way something so serious can dissolve into something so sweet. 

“Of course, I know how to get to you.” 

“Am I getting my money back?” Max asked, referring to the change on the table. 

“No, you did that to yourself, love.” 

Max let out a dramatic sigh with a smile, his two front teeth showing as he did. He pulled Bradley in for another hug, holding him close before whispering, 

“You’re such a sap sometimes.” 

Bradley laughed and returned the hug, planting a soft kiss on Max’s cheek. 

“Only for you.”  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[taddymason]

Taddy I know you said that Kaida doesn't refer to Jay as "Dad" like. At all.

BUT I can't stop thinking about a scenerio [that I wanted a write a ficlet about but I don't have the time due to uni work :sob:]

Where after Kaida and Jay are with the Ninja but Jay doesn't have his memories fully back yet.

And Kaida gets caught off guard by the enemy or something and is taken by them as bait. [I know, very unlikely]

And she tries to act cool about it but she is terrified on the inside because shes still just a kid and god Jay is not coming for her.

He got his real family back- he doesn't need her around anymore- shes alone again- shes got abondened again- why should he care about her anymore?

Meanwhile Jay is LIVID.

This is a man who does not remember the honor code of the Ninja.

A man who killed a dragon by himself.

A man who possibly killed way more than a dragon.

A father whos child was taken from him as bait and is in danger.

He's ripping through everything in his path that is between him and his daughter, and the rest of the ninja are terrified as they can only watch the lightning without restrain destroy everything in his path.

Kaida doesn't understand whats going on outside,there are explosions and yells and she can't help but flinch away as someone points a gun at her face.

But then there is a loud crack as the room flashes in the brightest light ever.

And when she opens her eyes back up again, all the men are on the ground twitching in pain.

And Jay is there.

He's sparkier than usual.

And covered in more blood than usual.

And kinda blurry on the edges, his eyes and hands and body burning way brighter with lightning than she ever saw.

[As if he's almost lightning itself]

But he's here.

He came for her.

He didn't leave her.

He didn't leave her.

She can't even say anything before he's suddenly next to her checking her for injuries as his hands shake from the adrenaline and fear of almost losing her.

And she chokes up with tears upon seeing him so scared, terrified of what could have been and lets out a choked up "Dad..."

Suddenly he's hugging her and she can't help but bury her face onto his chest like a baby as shes trying to not to cry, not to be weak, shes picked up and he mumbles a soft "I got you kiddo. Let's get you home." And that's when she breaks down.

And Jay refuses to let go of her during all the way back to the monastery, and if the rest of the ninja see both of them cry at some point none of them say anything.

KEN KEN KEN THIS IS SO GOOD!!!!?!? I LOVE THIS!! THANKS FOR THIS!!! HUSJFBAF

I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCH (Like, Kaida definitely addresses Jay as "dad" in situations like this) THAT I HAD TO WRITE AND DRAW SOMETHING RIGHT AWAY BECAUSE I LOVE TORTURING THESE TWO. Also writing Angry Badass Jay is entertaining

I hope I did justice to this scenario because I wrote this really really quickly so I hope you like it

Home

Words: 2.9k

TW: blood and violence.

When Kaida first wakes up, she is in a room with cold lights and no windows, with unknown people moving back and forth through thick bars. She feels tired, her eyelids are heavy with a sickly feeling, and her palate tastes like moldy cotton.

She tries to remember the name the ninjas had given this thing. She thinks it's called Vengestone. A stone that can disable elemental powers.

She had never seen anything like it and terror floods her veins with ice when she realizes that what they said turned out to be true. She didn't know that there was something capable of suppressing that energy that has been in her blood for years. Uselessly she pulls on the metal on her ankle, looks for a way to break or open the lock with some of the tricks she knew, even tries to see if there are any loose bricks in the wall, and only manages to draw blood from under her nails, adding to what already covers her clothes.

She tries not to get scared. She tries to calm down and breathe even though they look at her like little more than an animal and she has no way to defend herself. She wishes she had her gun in her hands, even the knife she always kept in her boot, but even that had been taken away from her, and all she had left as a weapon was to uselessly insult them.

She tries not to panic, but finds it difficult to control her breathing when she can't see through the walls to those approaching and she feels blind. Everything looks dark and she feels stupidly weak when people approach her and without her powers to see them; they look like corpses.

"They are anyway" she tries to tell herself to calm down. They are if Jay was looking for her.

If he was looking for her. If he hadn't already decided she was a burden. Because she is, she knew it.

As the hours pass, the voice she tries to ignore in the back of her head reminds her that she is essentially a nuisance that he went to too much trouble to care for. She is essentially a girl for whom he only felt sorry, and now with the way things are, he may finally want to take a burden off his shoulders and stop having to worry about her.

She knows that she is the reason why he decided to continue working in a place as miserable as the Administration, the reason why he could not return home for so long, the main reason why he was separated from his family. If he had had his memories from the beginning, he wouldn't have even stayed there in the first place.

It's a burden, and if he had finally realized that he had his real family waiting for him, maybe he wouldn't even bother looking for her.

"How do you feel?" one of them ask her with a smile in his voice. She was pretty sure she's been there for a day already.

“Fucking great.” she spits, crossing her arms to try to look confident. If being a ninja included being captured by crazy people like these, she didn't understand why the bother.

He seem to ignore her mockery as he analyze her carefully. That guy, who must be some kind of leader if the way he's the only one talking is any indication, approaches. “You are the elemental master of spirit, aren't you?”

She stares back at him dryly without even bothering to respond. They had asked her name before and she hadn't even given them that.

The man waits in silence for a few seconds before continuing. “I know all ninjas have pretty interesting powers, the main reason why they are so annoying to us. As far as I heard, kid, you can steal someone's soul, right?”

She shakes her chained foot while frowning. “Why don't you take this shit off me and figure it out yourself?”

He smiles and then steps back, leaving the cell as if the exchange had bored him. "Not yet. We have to keep you alive until your friends come after all.”

And then he leaves, and she is alone. Again.

She rests her head on the wall behind her, trying futilely to keep track of the idiots hovering back and forth with threats that leave her shaking inside, and her hand clutches the yellow pin to her chest.

---

Jay's head is somewhere else during the eternal passage of days in which they search for clues to Kaida's whereabouts. He doesn't sleep or even eat. His concentration is solely on the battlefield and clinging to any possible clue. He is determined and alert, aware enough to be able to duck when necessary and able to dodge when shot.

But that's all. He feels nothing when he uses his powers over and over again against them without holding back his blows. It is like a storm that continues to build up until it explodes and he doesn't take into account who it lets that brutal rain fall on.

And the rest of the team isn't much help.

When they stop him for the fourth time to tell him they need a plan, his patience breaks.

He already has a plan; find his kid.

Lloyd, who Jay had learned that he was a kind of master on the team, harshly reprimands him at the end of an interrogation of one of the stupid bastards responsible for taking Kaida. Once the line of questioning ends with the man writhing on the ground in a haze of burning flesh, everyone looks at him with growing horror and fear.

He has no regrets, neither for this one nor for the others before him or for what is yet to come. If it were up to him, he would pull out what other pain that bastard has left to feel.

The green ninja, however, is unfazed by the anger crackling in his eyes and matches it with a stern glare. "Jay, I understand you're worried, but taking it out on them won't solve anything. You can't do that."

He breathes shakily, his hands, covered in blood that is not his, clenching and opening at his sides with sparks still cutting and hissing through the air.

"You are not my leader." He spits tiredly between his teeth. "Don't tell me what to do. You don't understand anything. If you really think I'm going to spare their lives for some stupid ninja shit I don't know about-"

"Jay, relax." The black ninja, Cole, steps forward, his voice heavy and wobbly. He approaches with his hands outstretched toward him, and he hates the anguish in his words, he hated that they acted like they knew him when he couldn't even remember anything about them. He hates all of this, and can barely speak with the guilt creeping down his throat. This would not have happened if they had not left the Administration. “We understand, we really do.”

Jay turns around, can't help but wave his arms in the air in exasperation, his voice rising to the edge of a shout as he shakes his head. "No, you don't. I don't need your help. If it were up to you, we would still have no fucking clue where she is. It's like you don't even care- “

A hand on his shoulder stops him, cutting off his speech as he flinches, and only then does he realize how much he's hyperventilating. The anger that makes his hands shake is as intense as the fear in his chest, and without a target to aim for so long, one becomes stronger than the other. When he turns around in his stupor, he finds the water ninja staring at him with one hand still on his shoulder.

Nya looks at him with understanding and sympathy, a deep grimace creasing her face even though her eyes otherwise remain calm. Her hand squeezes his shoulder tightly, almost as if she wants to hug him instead, and he hates how much they seem to really know him. He only has a vague idea of what they are supposed to be to him (his friends, his brothers, his yang) and that's it, they're still just strangers.

His real family, all he has left, is far away.

“We'll find her, Jay. I swear. You are not alone in this.” she emphasized firmly, and somehow, like a memory washed away by the tide, something in his chest calms at her words. The others look at him the same way, that anxious, worried look that loosens his jaw as his frown softens.

His hands were still shaking, and the power on his skin had not stopped crackling for even a second since they had begun their search. He pulls away from the touch on his shoulder somewhat abruptly, knowing it's probably not good to touch any of them while he's like this, and the others stare at him expectantly.

He takes a deep breath, barely closing his eyes for a fragment of a second where all he sees is bright white, and when he opens them to look at them, he can almost let himself believe that these people are his family.

"Alright." he chew the words through air that is too harsh and cold. His tongue is filled with the taste of ash and blood. “We know where these bastards' base is. Take us there.”

They all nod and leave, and Jay doesn't let anything stop him from getting to his daughter. His first and only priority.

---

Kaida loses track of time while there. She stops trying to count the minutes that pass and any hope she has left slowly dissolves.

And maybe it was for the best anyway. She knew she was a bait. A small fish to catch a bigger one. It was better that they didn't come for her. There was no reason for him to risk it when he already had his real family with him.

The men here don't linger with her any longer than necessary. They need her alive after all. One breaks her ankle so she doesn't even try to flee. Another hits her head particularly unpleasantly against the wall when she spits in their faces and things get confusing from there. It reminds her too much of Boarding School, and if she closes her eyes, she can practically feel the rivulet of blood running down the side of her face from her left eyebrow.

They seem proud of themselves when they finally manage to force screams of pain through her teeth, even if she doesn't even cry. Don't you dare cry. Don't you ever cry, she said in her mind over and over again.

And she tells herself that's not even the reason she's so terrified. It's not because she was deprived of her powers, or because of the pain that was pounding in her body, or because of whatever stupid plan these sons of bitches had, but because of the fact that she knows deep down that no one is coming for her. She knows she deserves it and that's what leaves her shaking as she stares straight ahead.

They should never have left the Administration, if they had stayed home instead of getting involved in saving the world and that stuff, none of this would have happened.

She feels selfish for thinking about it, but she can't help it.

She wants to go home, but she knows it's not even safe to go back there anymore. She hates how much those ninjas always had the power to take him from her, and now they finally did it.

And suddenly, the guards patrolling next to her cell hastily leave. All the people she can see through the bars share worried looks, frightened murmurs as they run to the left with weapons in their hands. Her heart races and all she can do is wait. She cannot see a single soul behind the walls when they all disappear.

There is an icy silence, one that builds in her cell the moment everyone leaves her alone, but that finally breaks when she begins to hear distant screams in the distance.

She stands suddenly, leaning against the wall, ignoring the pain clawing at her ankle and the damn chain that only makes it worse, and concentrates on listening.

She hears gunshots, hears high-pitched cries slowed by the walls. She's heard those screams before, the kind that come up just before a person's light disappears. She knows that they are coming from very far away, she knows that they are from the direction in which everyone ran, and from one moment to the next, the silence of her prison becomes a cacophony of screams that increases the tension that shakes in her chest.

There is also a growing ringing that pulses in her ears, which sounds too much like a muffled roar. A snake crawls across the ceiling, and when she looks up, she notices how the lights shine full of energy, turning on and off at the pace at which everyone runs desperately. That hum goes down and up constantly while the lights flicker until they finally break, exploding loudly. Glass and darkness hit the hallway.

Kaida can only watch open-mouthed, her mind barely able to comprehend the meaning of it when one of their leaders enters her cage with a gun in hand and a look full of anger.

“What the fuck is going on?” Kaida asks, pressing herself against the wall, hating the way her jaw trembles as the guy approaches her. “Is this also part of your plan, you idiots?”

The mockery comes out weak and raw at the end when she sees how the man removes the safety of the weapon and places it in his hands without hesitation. A knot of anxiety tightens and unravels in her chest until it reaches her mind, and her face pales.

“Looks like your friends are already here, kid. Now you are as useful alive as dead.” The gun is pointed at her face. If she had her powers, in less than a second, she could steal any excuse for soul that this guy had until he was an empty shell, take because that's what she always did. Only she doesn't have them, and the man's index finger is already on the trigger. “Unfortunately for you, I could use getting rid of an elemental master right now.”

The man points the barrel close to her forehead, far enough away that she can't even try to grab the gun from him.

Kaida steps back, her gaze focused somewhere in front of her, and she prepares for the worst with her teeth clenched together.

She's just not prepared for the way the man's body suddenly shakes violently. The grip on his gun loosens and he lets go. Collapsing heavily to the ground with white ribbons that run through his limbs until they fragilely disappear along with all traces of life in his gaze.

There is an echo of thunder behind it that conquers every struggle between silence and screams, and it is only when she looks up from the body at her feet that she finally sees Jay staring at her surprised on the other side of the cell. His hand still raised firmly forward, red and glowing as if snakes of light ran down his arm.

Her vision is blurry, either from the pain in the back of her head or from the held back tears, but it was definitely him. Through the cloudy haze, she can see how his reddish hair is more bristly than usual and the blood that practically covers him from head to toe.

She looks around, behind Jay, she sees completely still bodies scattered on the ground. She's not particularly fazed by it, she's seen worse, they've done worse. But the fact that he did this for her, that he took the risk to do it, leaves her reeling with a thread of breath.

Before she can register it, Jay quickly crosses the distance between them, dropping to his knees beside her so he's level with her. His trembling hands, whose skin over his knuckles she can see are slit and raw, grab her shoulders and he frantically search for any kind of wounds. She barely registers it, barely hears him speaking in panic at a mile a second.

Instead, she was still processing the fact that he was there. That he had come back for her.

“I've got you, kiddo, it's okay now,” she hears him say. His voice sounds more scared and agitated than she's ever heard.

His hands briefly touch her face and only then does she realize she was crying. She doesn't know how long she's been crying.

“Dad-” nothing but sobs come out.

He holds her close, reality finally hitting her as she buries her face against his chest, inhaling as she cries. Her forehead is pressed against that stupid blue gi, staining blood and tears and who knows what else, but she can hear his heart beating, fast but steady, and he's here and he didn't abandon her.

“We're going home,” he murmurs, as shaky as his breathing, and she doesn't care where that is anymore. All she really cares about is that he's here, and that's enough for her.

[thatone-brightstar]

The Bear & The Fox (Carmy Berzatto x Fem!Reader)

Chapter 10: Bared teeth and knuckles red

Words: 4.8 k

Summary: You finally decide to tell Carmy the truth.

a/n: Please read! Same as last time, don't wanna trigger anyone so, trigger warning: mention of suicide attempt in flashbacks. That is all.

Also, only three more chapters left and all I can say is thank you for enjoying this as much as I loved making it. I had never published anything I had written and you have all been so wonderfully nice that it really has boosted my confidence in writing.

Anywaaay, this one's gonna hurt so I apologize in advance and you can totally yell at me in the comments, but just a head's up I WILL CRY IF YOU DO.

Commenting is always appreciated!!

Your toes had grown red and numb as they dangled yards away from the freezing water. Soft sniffs ached in your chest and your grip on the metal grew unsteady with every gentle cry. The dots of the bright city lights blurred together in your watery eyes, but there was nothing but an unknown serenity lapping at your insides. Like the feeling you get from watching bio luminescent tides illuminate a dark beach with every sway. The night was still, only the light patter of a pair of footsteps that you confused with your heartbeat.

“You don’t want to do that.” A deep voice called from your far right and your body jerked towards the noise.

You scoffed at the tall man, too calm for someone who had stumbled into that uncommon situation. “I don’t even fuckin’ know you, dude.” You rolled your eyes and faced the water again.

“True..” He said, placing a cig between his lips and lighting the end. “but I do know that if you jump from this height, you’ll just end up crippled.”

“Well I don’t know how to swim, so I’ll probably just drown.” You answered with the same bitterness.

“Hardcore” He whispered, then slowly walked to rest his elbows a few feet away from you. 

The man took a long drag, the ember showering his strong features in an orange hue. Your eyes flickered from the burning tip to his face, only looking away when he turned towards you.

“You smoke?” He asked and you shrugged lightly. He pulled the beaten packet from inside his jean jacket with measured movements and slowly offered it to you. “How ‘bout one for the road, kid?”

You doubted for a second, then uncurled your frozen fingers from the bar and stretched out your arm to the man. In a flash, one of his hands gripped your wrist while the other circled your waist and hoisted you up and away from the edge. The world swiveled for a short second as you both fell safely against the snow covered path. You thrashed around in his grip, legs and arms swaying violently as a thousand screams were ripped from the deepest parts of your chest. But no matter your attempts, the man maintained a calm composure.

It was only when your screams died down to soft whimpers and your surroundings flashed with red and blue, that the numbness abandoned your body and you finally felt the cold seep through your clothes as you sat alone in the middle of the bridge. It was then that you heard his gentle words echo for hours in your head.

“You’ll thank me one day, kid. I promise.”

“Is it too much purple, Ms. F?” Kenny asked from his end of the small semi circle, pulling you away from the thick waves of your mind.

“Hmm? N-no no, that looks really good, Ken. Great job…” 

Your phone vibrated softly from one of the pockets of your apron, creasing your brow when Syd’s name flashed on the screen. A few indications were given to the kids before excusing yourself a few yards away to answer the call.

“Hey, everything ok-”

“I stabbed Richie.” Syd’s shaky voice interrupted.

“Y-You what?”

“And I walked out. I stabbed Richie and then walked out. I-In that order.”

You were silent for a few seconds, not knowing how to answer accordingly, because what does one say when someone’s confessed to stabbing someone, albeit a shitty someone, but still a someone. 

“H-how… did that happen?” You asked instead.

“Cause your stupid asshole boyfriend went bat shit crazy when I fucked up the to-go’s!” She began rambling about some software update in the system and how she had forgotten to block out the schedule, so by the time they were ready to open, they were already behind on hundreds of orders they hadn’t prepped for.

“Jesus, Syd! And you left them alone with that mess?!” You angrily whispered at your phone.

“You think I don’t know that?! I know I screwed up, okay? But when I tried to figure it out, Carmen got all up in my face and wouldn’t listen! He started fucking yelling at everyone and I was so pissed, and Richie- God Richie- h-he basically stepped into my knife. I know it wasn’t that bad, but I didn’t stay around to check.” She finished.

You heard her shallow breaths on the other end and waited for her to calm down. 

“D’you think I should go back?” She asked, when her voice had stopped shaking.

“Yes… but it’s too late now, it’ll probably piss him off more. Go home, sleep it off and try to solve it with a clear head in the morning.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” She heaved in a heavy sigh that ended with a groan. “You-erh- you gonna tell ‘em… today?”

“I mean, I want to do it less now but… what’s one more bad news to throw into the dumpster fire that is today, right?”

Syd snorted ironically into the mic, her shaky breathes had slowly started to regulate.

“Alright, well call me if you need anything.”

“Yeah, you too.”

You hung up and saved your phone back into your apron. The void in your chest happily feeding itself with the bad news, only growing stronger and wrapping its roots around your ribs. Checking the time made you realize there were still a couple hours left until your shift was up, but it didn’t feel nearly as long as you needed to grow a pair and tell Carmy. 

Usually, you were great at keeping secrets. It came with the territory of being the eldest daughter and having an overprotective single mother. There were so many midnight escapades where you’d go smoke weed with your friends at the park that you’d take to the grave. Or the insignificant containers of lipgloss you'd steal as a teen just for the thrill of it, that now lived untouched at the bottom of your drawer. You always joked that, apart from your family and closest friends, you didn’t really have a conscience to listen to, or anything that could make you feel guilty over most things. Which is why the void that had been living in your stomach for the past weeks felt foreign and uncomfortable with every passing day that you did nothing about it. 

You hadn’t been sleeping either. The moment you felt your body drift away, your mind was clouded by the mirage of tired baggy eyes and a large grizzly bear on the snow padded bridge. The thunderous growl always jerked you awake and with sore lungs and dew over your brow, you’d move from the restraining covers into the small sanctuary in the living room.  The tiredness displayed itself proudly over your face, sitting heavy in the bags it had nursed under your dull eyes, for everyone to see.

It was one of the reasons you had been avoiding Carmy for weeks. No amount of concealer would cover them up and you knew that the moment he spotted your slouched shoulders, he’d know something was wrong. He probably already did. The time between your texts had grown larger, always hiding behind a ‘sorry, been busy’ or ‘fell asleep’. All because you couldn’t bare to tell your boyfriend the truth. You knew you’d have to eventually, the longer it took, the worse his reaction would be once you decided to finally tell him.

‘Today.’ You mumbled to yourself while getting ready, ’I’m gonna do it today.’ But as the day grew older, so did the regret of having to follow through with your own self imposed promise.

**********

The blank canvas sitting expectant in front of you worked perfectly to help you dissociate since the moment you sat down. The blue paint you had been chipping from your nails was long gone, but the repetitive action continued, leaving small streaks of red stinging by the time you washed your hands to leave. You expected to at least have half an explanation by the time you made the short walk to the restaurant, however, your brain seemed to have forgotten any trace of the English dictionary in your vocabulary. Only the simplest words remained and that was not nearly enough to explain the strange situation you found yourself in. 

The lights inside The Beef glowed a menacing white and the silence was so intense, you could even hear the electricity flowing through the fluorescents.

“Yo! We’re closed!” Yelled Richie’s voice from the side room once he heard the bell by the glass door ding, then you saw him slowly move towards you, with a rather noticeable limp. “Short stack! Nice of you to show up after we got our asses beat.”

“Yeah, heard you got it stabbed too…”

He threw a middle finger in your direction and limped past the counter and to the empty back where everyone seemed to have fled after the rough day.

“Mind if I take a look?” You asked him, dropping your bag on one of the tables.

“What, you ain’t gonna take me to dinner first?” Despite the tiredness behind his voice, he still managed to be just as annoying.

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. “Chill, alright? My mom’s a nurse, she taught me a couple stuff.”

“ ‘M fine, Ebra already patched me up, so no need to go all fuckin’ Doogie Howser on me, okay?”

You didn’t have the energy to protest or to even make fun of his old ass reference, so you just raised your hands and mumbled an irritated ‘Fine, I don’t fucking care anyway’ and walked past him to the office.

You saw Carmy hunched over the piles of invoices scattered around his desk, arms tensely resting on the firm wood and wisps of smoke floating in the thin air. You could guess how bad the day had been by the multiple stains on his regularly white shirt and by the strained muscles locked sturdily under the material. You stood frozen by the door, a sudden wave of fear washing over you at the idea that there was no way that this would not end terribly.

You swallowed the dryness that had accumulated in your throat and reached up a shaky hand to knock at the door. His eyes were dark and intense when he turned to you and a heavy breath filled his lungs as he observed you up and down. 

“Hey…” He greeted with a nod, then turned back to the mess of papers.

“I’d -uh- I’d ask how your day’s been but…” You said, pushing yourself deeper in the room and shoving your hands in your back pockets.

Carmy nodded slowly, letting his forehead fall over yours when you reached his side and taking in another deep sigh. “Sydney tell you?”

“Briefly, but yeah…”

“Marcus walked out too.” He said dryly, pulling away and raking his hand through his matted hair.

“What happened?”

“I dunno. I thought everything was finally going better a-and then it’s one thing after the next and I just… I snapped.” He confessed.

Your brows screwed in confusion, “But you’re used to yelling in the kitchen-”

“Yes, but this was different. I don’t know what took over me. I-It was like my mouth and my brain had no filter and all the words just came spewing out. Like I wanted them to feel like shit, like I needed them to feel what I feel every-fuckin’-day here.” He threw himself on the office chair and rested his heated face on his hands.

“Did you mean it?” You asked after a few moments. “What you said to them, did you mean it?”

Carmy dragged his hands down to his mouth, tired eyes fixed on yours, then shook his head ‘no’ slowly.

“Then maybe you can tell them that… Once you’ve all cooled down, of course.”

He was silent, brows knitted together in contemplation. “Ye-yeah no, I know-I will.” He finally said, rubbing his thumb to the inside of his palm and staring at you again. “Hey, uh… C-can I ask you somethin’?” 

Fuck. You didn’t trust your voice to answer, so you just nodded, hands curling tightly around the edge of the desk that hit your back.

“Are we… good? Cause you kinda went all cold turkey on me…” He said with a humorless breath that made the knot in your throat double in size.

“I was kinda hopin’ you didn’t notice that…” You whispered and he slowly stood from his chair to reach out for your hand.

“‘Course I would notice.” He shrugged and took a step closer to you, tilting his head to see your eyes fixated on the file cabinet behind him. “Is everything alright?”

You swallowed hard, it felt like razor blades going down your throat as you tried to figure out what to say or how to start. His thumb grazed softly at your chin, pulling your face up and forcing your worried stare to meet his. Despite the generous bags that decorated his eyes, the look he gave you was swarmed with devotion. As if there were something more weighted behind it that his body couldn’t hold and it was filtering through the cracks. His stare made the guilt inside you grow even larger, roots now too deep to be pulled out. 

In a few seconds of selfishness, you pushed yourself off the desk and closed the little distance between your faces, carefully wrapping your lips around his. He answered back instantly, circling his hard arm around you and pulling you closer to him. You kissed him hard and you kissed him long, because the pessimist in you insisted that it’d be the last time you’d be able to after tonight. It was selfish, yes, but at least you would have a sweet trace of his lips to remember before everything went to shit. 

His grip on you tightened, teeth pulling at your bottom lip with contained insistence. He needed the kiss too. After weeks of not seeing you and the worry that he might have done something wrong to scare you away, having you back in his arms was a surprise ending he did not expect for a hellish day.

But you pulled away too quickly and the way your eyes had begun to water at the corners constricted his chest. He didn’t say anything, instead rubbed his calloused thumb in circles over your tender cheek.

“There’s something I need you to know,” You whispered with a soft sniff that pulled the threatening tears back down. “A-and I’m not sure how you’ll feel about… us, after.”

His frown deepened, pulling away only slightly but it felt like a crater had opened up between you.

“O-kay… What, d’you cheat on me or somethin’?” He joked lightly, trying to lighten the somber mood.

“No, no of course not!” Your answer was rushed. “It’s more complicated than that…”

You took his hand and led him to his chair, then sat cross-legged on one of the short file cabinets that faced him. With a few deep breaths and your heartbeat heavy in your throat, you began.

“Fuck, okay. So before I started working here, I used to work privately.”

“Rich folks in Lincoln, I remember.” He added.

“Yeah, e-except I didn’t really tell you the whole truth…” You gripped your hands together to stop the light trembling and took another hefty breath.

“I was fresh out of culinary school when I got the job. Joyce’s fiancé actually got it for me, one of his co workers had recently widowed and he needed help with the meals for him and his daughter. They’re lawyers, so the  pay was really good. My grandma was a bit sick at the time and we needed the money for her treatments. So I took the job.” Your breath seemed to thin out as the images formed in your head once again.

“Everything was fine for the first few months, y’know I just went in a couple days a week, meal prepped, left dinner then went home. I was the ghost that fed them.” You sneered, eyes fixed on your locked hands and only his bouncing thigh in your view. 

“Then uh, the guy -Isaac– started showing up earlier. He would.. ask about my day and how my grandma was doing while I made dinner for him and his six year old. He even drove me home sometimes, when it was too late or too rainy to take the train. There was a hail storm, around June last year, that closed off everything and I couldn’t go home so he let me stay in the spare room. We got to talking and…” Your eyes wandered over his face for a fraction of a second, but it was enough to see how his jaw had locked tight and he held an inexpressive façade.

“Long story short, he was nice and I was young and stupidly naive, so we started dating. Everything was good for a couple months until… Turns out his wife wasn’t really dead - just… abroad.”  

You finally had the courage to look up at him, slight surprise evident in his raised brows and he leaned back. then took one of his hands to rub around his mouth and chin.

“Shit…” He whispered.

“...Yeah. I, um, I was making dinner one night, some sort of celebration -I can’t really remember for what-, I wasn’t even supposed to be there, but I wanted to surprise him… and they just walked in, like nothing.” The image of your fingers began to blur together under the sheer coat of water covering your eyes. “Isaac told her I was just some girl he tried to help out, but that I became obsessed with him a-and that he had tried to fire me.”

The silence in the small room was deafening. Just your ragged breaths and his barely controlled ones.

“She slapped me. Called me a homewrecker and a whore. And threatened to call the cops on me if I didn’t leave immediately, so… I did.”

Carmy stayed silent, waiting for you to continue, but you needed to take a couple calming breaths before doing so. You hadn’t spoken about this with anyone outside your therapist and it was proving to be harder than you expected.

“He tried calling me weeks after. trying to apologize but I blocked his number and every other number he’s been using to call me since.”

Your shuddering breaths permeated in the small room, as you let him take in the information you had spilled all over the floor. Carmy’s eyes were on you, but looking through you, lost in thought. 

“Is that why you reacted that way when Richie lied about Sugar?” You nodded slowly and something seemed to finally click behind his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me before?” His voice was hoarse and barely controlled.

“I dunno…” You confessed in a breath. “I guess I was scared. I didn’t want you to think the worst of me. I think I’ve just grown so used to dealing with everything on my own that I didn’t want to be a burden to you…”

Carmy stood from his chair and crouched down beside you, hands holding both sides of your face and eyes glazed.

“Look at me-” He whispered and you did. “Please don’t do that shit, okay? Don’t hide from me and close yourself off- I hate that shit. You’ll never be a burden to me, alright? Not now, not ever.”

The guilt in your chest pulled once more and you felt your ribs concave with the pressure and force, a new batch of tears flooded your eyes that distorted the painful image of his saddened face.

“Is that why you’ve been acting so weird lately?” He asked.

You shook your head and bit your bottom lip with force.

“A month after that, my grandma got worse and I couldn’t find another job in the area. She- his wife- told all her friends that I tried to take her husband -which was complete bullshit- so no one would hire me. I was really depressed and it felt like everything was falling apart. I-”

Your chest shook again at the feeling of his thumb rubbing circles on your skin. 

“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to-“

“No, I do.” You argued, sniffing hard. “I-I used to drive Joshua’s car before. I… guess it was my car back then. One night, they called from the hospital to let us know she had passed. -I don’t know what happened- I just got so overwhelmed that I took the keys and ran out the house. I didn’t even bother to take my shoes…” You stuttered, rubbing the sweat from your hands on your jeans. “So I-I was driving barefoot and in shock and it had just snowed so the roads were slippery a-and I’ve never been the best driver-.” You were rambling, too scared to reach the part of your story that really mattered to him.

“I don’t really remember much of that, just… the loud crash and how my vision spotted for a few seconds.” Your brows were furrowed deep in a scowl, eyes fixed on the tattoo on his left bicep but not really there. 

Carmy’s breath had caught in his throat as he hung on your every word.

“I c-crash… on one of the pillars of the state street bridge. But I wasn’t hurt, o-or at least I don’t remember feeling it. I just remember this… pain in my chest -like I had been stabbed- and the snow nipping at my feet when I got out the car.” You bit your tongue as you tried to continue. Like your body was stopping itself from speaking aloud. 

You cleared your throat from the salty taste of iron. “I um… I remember standing in the middle of the bridge. For what felt like hours. Then the idea just popped into my head and it seemed like the most logical thing…” You whispered. “Like it would silence all my thoughts so I just… Fuck, I-I… climbed over the railings and almost threw myself into the water.” You struggled to say, no longer holding back the fresh batch that spilled from your eyes.

“That night on the bridge…um-” You couldn’t think of the right words to use, if there even were any to deliver such shattering information. “There was a man…” His eyes caught on yours and something inside them understood where you were headed, because his hands loosened their grip by your sides.

You shut  your eyes hard, you couldn’t do it with his painful stare burning into you. 

“I-It was Mikey, Carmy… who pulled me from the ledge. Before I could jump.” 

Your cheeks felt cold as he pulled himself away. You opened your eyes to find his hardened gaze frozen on you and he shook his head slowly.

“W-what? No, no he-”

“I’m sorry Bear I-”

“You’re fuckin screwin’ with me, aren’t you?”

He stood to his full height and raked both his hands through his hair. You stayed seated, something about the situation made you feel like a scolded child.

“No! I swear I didn’t know it was him-” You rambled, unlocking yourself from your seated position and taking a step towards him.

“Bullshit!” He shouted, turning to you.

“It’s true!” You shouted back, your voice broke at the end from the force. “I found out from the pictures at your sister’s…”

His jaw was tense as he continued to shake his head. “No-no, that doesn’t make sense… Why would he save you then sho-” He stopped himself before the words even formed in his mouth.

“You think I would know?! It’s been eating me alive for weeks!”

His stare was hard and intense, it made you squirm under it for the longest minute, until he decided to speak.

“When?”

“January…” Your voice was barely a whisper.

“Did he… did he say somethin’ to you?” 

“I cant-”

“What did he say?” He asked again with bared teeth.

“He said ‘You don’t want to do that’.” You answered defeated.

“What else?”

“T-that’s it…”

“Bullshit! What else?!”

“I’m telling you the truth!” You snapped. Angry tears rolled down your cheeks, but he didn’t seem to care.

“So, what?!You came lookin’ for me cause you owe him some kinda favor?! Are you just tryna pay it forward or some shit!?”

You stared at him bewildered, your chest ached from the lack of air and your ribs seemed to crack with his every word.

“What the hell would make you think that?!” You sneered back.

“Or did he tell you to come lookin’ for me?! Didn’t trust his stupid little brother to survive out in the world alone?!”  His expression had grown somber towards you, the eyes you had grown to love now looked at you with nothing but uncontained rage. 

 “Carmy, I’ve been nothing but honest-”

“Oh that’s a load of crap and you know it!” Carmy mocked. “Were you planning on telling me? If it hadn’t been Mikey -if it was someone else who saw you that night- were you gonna tell me?”

Your eyes darted around the room, his gaze too intense to hold. You heard his kitchen shoes squeak as he took a step towards you and the dance felt all too familiar inside your mind.

He whispered your name, painful and slow. “Answer me, please.” He begged and you dragged your tear stained eyes to his bloodshot ones.

You shook your head slowly. He rubbed his hand over his mouth painfully hard and turned his back to you, sniffing loudly into the ceiling.

“Remember what you said to me, the first night you stayed over?” He asked, turning to you. “You said ‘you know I really care about you’ right? And you said that if whatever this was, was gonna work out, then we should  tell each other this kinda stuff, even the ugly. You said that, okay? You.” He took a second to breathe, turning away from you again and taking his hand in his hair. “A-and now you’re telling me all this shit that you had to tell me only cause my brother’s the one that stopped you from-” Carmy stopped himself with a sharp intake. 

“Go ahead.” You sneered. “Finish it.”

“Guess you were right. “ he said instead, Avoiding your eyes. “It only works out when we tell each other this kind of stuff.” You heard a crack deep inside your chest. “And we didn’t so…”

“Carmy, your not being fair-“ 

“No- you don’t get to say that, alright?!” He shouted, “Not when you ask me to be honest with you, but you can’t do the same with me!” Carmy took another step towards you and your reflexes made you take one back.

His shoulders fell slightly and his hardened eyes flickered around you for a few seconds before turning to the desk.

“I don’t have time for this crap…” He whispered with his attention heavy on the pile of unpaid accounts resting tauntingly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked, though the answer you already knew.

“It means-” He sighed shakily. “God, y’know I…” His mouth pressed into a thin line while he argued with himself over what he could admit.  “-I really fuckin’ love you.” Your brows raised in surprise and the words knocked out any trace of oxygen in your cells. “But I have too much on my back already to deal with this shit right now…”

You scanned the blurry floor, then the desk and even the ceiling, anything that could take your attention from the stabbing sensation that you knew too well in your chest. “Okay.” Is all you whispered.

“Everything’s shit and-”

“It’s fine.” You answered a bit more harshly than you intended. “I get it.”

You wrapped your arms around yourself, doing your best to hold in all the pieces together, then walked past his defeated frame - avoiding any sort of contact. Before turning the corner, you stopped yourself, knowing the simple words would eat you from the inside if you didn’t let them out..

“If it's worth anything… I love you too.” You whispered and the tenseness of his back proved he heard you. “Just so you know…”

Your legs numbly carried you to your bag, then out the front door and with the last ounce of energy in you, you dialed the one person you trusted the most.

He picked up at the second ring. “What do you want?”

“Joshua, I’m at the restaurant. Can you please pick me up?” You whispered between tears.

“Shit-” You heard shuffling, the sound of keys then the slam of a door. “Y-yeah, yeah sure. You okay?”

“No…”

“Fuck, okay. I’ll be there in ten.” Your brother answered in a rush. “And Fox?”

“Yeah?”

“...Don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

A humorless laugh fell from your throat. “Okay.” 

Chapter 11.

Taglist: @pearlstiare @teteminne, @beebslebobs, @harrysmatcha, @yum-yahgurt, @pussy-f41ry and that’s it lmao

[verycleverboy]

Almost thirty-four years after Donald Trump took out a full-page ad in New York newspapers calling for the return of the death penalty in the wake of the case of a group of young African-American men branded the “Central Park Five”, and a few days after Trump was charged with thirty-four felony counts, one of the now-Exonerated Five took out a full-page ad of his own. The full text follows:

BRING BACK JUSTICE & FAIRNESS. BUILD A BRIGHTER FUTURE FOR HARLEM!

On May 1, 1989, almost thirty-four years ago, Donald J. Trump spent $85,000 to take out full-page ads in The New York Times, New York Daily News, New York Post and New York Newsday, calling for the execution of the Central Park Five — an act he has never apologized for, even after someone else confessed to and was convicted of the crime, the convictions of all five of us were overturned, and we were renamed the Exonerated Five.

Instead, Mr. Trump has often doubled-down. A few weeks after taking out the ad, he went on CNN and stated: "I hate these people and let's all hate these people because maybe hate is that we need if we're gonna get something done."

Even after our exoneration and acknowledgment by the government that we had been wrongfully convicted, Mr. Trump continued to incite animus against me, my peers and our families. In 2013 — over a decade after our exoneration — Trump called the Ken and Sarah Burns Central Park Five documentary "a one-sided piece of garbage," and when asked how he felt now that we were shown to be innocent, responded: "Innocent of what?"

In 2014, the City of New York finally reached a settlement with the members of the Exonerated Five, awarding at compensation to help us rebuild our lives after so many years were taken from us. But even that acknowledgement from the city wasn't enough for Trump to see five young Black and Latino men as anything other than criminals, saying "settling doesn't mean innocence."

Note, after several decades and an unfortunate and disastrous presidency, we all know exactly who Donald J. Trump is — a man who seeks to deny justice and fairness for others, while claiming only innocence for himself.

Being wrongfully convicted as a teenager was an experience that changed my life drastically. Yet I am honored when people express how deeply they connect with my story.

It matters because, while my experience may have been extreme, I have lived through a form of trauma that many of us experience in some way every day throughout our country. My past is an example of systemic oppression imposed by the injustice system.

But the problems our community faced when my name was splashed across the newspapers a generation ago — inadequate housing, underfunded schools, public safety concerns, and a lack of good jobs — became worse during Donald Trump's time in office.

I am trying to change that, by working with so many other dedicated community members to build a better future for everyone, both here in Harlem and across the country.

Here is my message to you, Mr. Trump: In response to the multiple federal and state criminal investigations that you are facing, you responded by warning of "potential death and destruction," and by posting a photograph of yourself with a baseball bat, next to a photo of Manhattan DA Alvin Bragg. These actions, just like your actions leading up to the January 6 insurrection at the U .S. Capitol, are an attack on our safety.

Thirty-four years ago, your full-page ad stated, in all caps: "CIVIL LIBERTIES END WHEN AN ATTACK ON OUR SAFETY BEGINS."

You were wrong then, and you are wrong now. The civil liberties of all Americans are grounded in the U.S. Constitution, and many of us fight every day to uphold those rights, even in the face of those like you who seek to obliterate them.

Now that you have been indicted and are facing criminal charges, I do not resort to hatred, bias or racism — as you once did.

Even though thirty-four years ago you effectively called for my death and the death of four other innocent children, I wish you no harm.

Rather, I at putting my faith in the judicial system to seek out the truth. I hope that you exercise your civil liberties to the fullest, and that you get what the Exonerated 5 did not get — a presumption of innocence, and a fair trial.

And if the charges are proven and you are found guilty, I hope that you endure whatever penalties are imposed with the same strength and dignity that the Exonerated Five showed as we served our punishment for a crime we did not commit.

--Yusef A. Salaam

[richeeduvie]

pathetic little woo woo man Roman bullying his poor secretary into running messages and reading them aloud to baby throughout the workday like “I want to lick your palms” and “bark I love you ew”

"Oh, Jami-"

"I am so sorry. For what I'm about to do, this is something that I was order to commit to - in my professional opinion, it is highly unprofessional...but Mr. Roy's reason for doing this is because you aren't answering your messages. And I can just say I've done it, he'll ask you about it but you'll just-"

Kendall's eyes shift from left to right. His arms are down straight, fists closed - confusion on the curve of his brows and lips.

You close your eyes.

"I will take it how Roman wanted it delivered."

"...What is this?"

"Sorry, Mr. Roy. Maybe we I should do this-" Jamie pulls out their phone with a tight swallow. "We can do this somewhere more private."

"No. You're gonna do it here because what the fuck?"

"Kendall. It's alright."

Maybe Roman will find unarousing embarrassment at the idea of his big brother listening to the messages he wrote in smug confidence.

"Unless, maybe you shouldn't - it's Roman."

But you know you'll burn if Kendall listens. You'll get small, for some reason. Either way, you lose.

And Kendall doesn't budge. Jamie clears their throat.

"Alright...um - I guess I'll just relay them."

There's a scratch to the throat before it begins. You'll have to find this hot later on.

"Bawd bitch. Bawd business woma-this is multiple messages, not just one run-on statement. Sorry."

Jamie clears their throat again.

"Bawd bitch. Bawd business woman bitch. You're not important, you can be doing anything that makes you ignore me. But business, maybe. Answer the phone so I don't have to do this."

You see Jamie's hands clench. You do burn with Kendall in the room, but you think this gets at him more, this is the Roman you know - whether there's someone in the room or not.

You try not to smile because Kendall isn't.

"I could also just...dot, dot, dot. There's dots, sorry. I could also just come to you, but I'm fun. You bawdish baby. I love you, and I want responses when I tell you I want to lick your palms. I want to, by the way."

Jamie's voice trails off. You feel bad because you think they're more embarrassed than you.

"Then there's a dog emoji and drooling emoji. It ends with another I love you and him calling himself fun."

Kendall crosses his arms.

"That's unacceptable. That's...he can't fuck-fucking...Roman just can't fucking do that."

"Ken, it's okay-"

"No. It's not just about you, even though it is-it's wrong. Jamie, you can report this, this is harassment on your end."

"Mr. Roy-"

"No, this is not okay. It's not even a joke, if it was teasing, it'd be fine. It'd be a waste of time, but fine. This is...not it."

Kendall sputters, anger toned. You have to sigh, not because of that, but because you know Roman's smiling and twiddling his thumbs with every pathetic, perfect muscle a floor below.

[spacerhapsody]

It has recently come to light that my deepest, darkest (Digimon) fandom secret is that I didn’t always ship Taito, and @hazelestelle was kind/curious enough to ask the following question in that shipping ask game:

18. A ship you never thought you would ship but do.

Buckle up, kids, because it’s time for a (long) trip down memory lane.

The year is 2002, and after about a year of exploring the internet via small guestbooks and messaging boards, someone finally pointed me towards the central German anime site. And while I think I had seen a couple of people publishing their own stories online and had written one or two myself, I hadn’t realized before that the concept of fanfic was a whole thing, let alone how much of it there was out there.

I also didn’t know yet that you could properly ship things that aren’t canon. Back then, I thought Yamto and Sora were really cute together (probably I mostly thought Yamato was the coolest person ever and was using Sora to heavily project onto), and apparently so did other people, because I easily found and read quite a few stories about them.

Now what you have to remember is that tags or any kind of useful sorting system just wasn’t a thing back then, which is how I ended up with a sliiightly different story, but I didn’t know that yet.

The fic was labeled with all kinds of warning – but I had absolutely no idea what any of those words meant. I’d only just discovered that Taichi and Yamato were Tai and Matt’s Japanese/actual names and just figured “Taito” and “Yamachi” were other (nick)names for them, and since it was popular to just throw random Japanese words into your fic at the time, and half of the time people didn't even use them right, I didn’t bother to look up what “Shounen-Ai” and “Yaoi” meant.

So I had no idea what I was getting into when I started reading, and after a couple of chapters I might have found it a bit weird that Sora was so little in it, but apparently I’ve also always enjoyed a good slow-burn, so I kept on reading. I don’t even remember when I realized that there was something going on between Yamato and Taichi, but I do remember that I was fascinated, and that I couldn’t stop reading, especially once it became obvious/something actually happened between them.  

(Why do I care so much about queer people, says queer person years before she figures out she’s queer herself, etc.)

Anyways, the story was long (and my internet time limited), so it took days, if not weeks of surreal summer evenings until I was done, but I read the whole thing.

And for whatever reason… I took this as my sign to start shipping Daisuke and Ken (and a variety of DBZ characters). XD

I’ve absolutely no idea why that was what I took away from the whole thing, it’s not even that I disliked the ship (yet), I always kind of understood why people were shipping them, maybe it was simply because Digimon 02 was much more present in my mind than the first season at the time?

But then I started looking for Daisuke/Ken stories (again, without a lot of help from the websites themselves), and it was an absolute nightmare.

You simply couldn’t find anything that didn’t have Yamato/Taichi as the main ship instead, that didn’t feature them as the reason Daisuke and Ken were figuring themselves out, or didn’t have them as the “older, wiser” couple at least one of them went to for advice, and I was steadily growing more and more annoyed by them.

And it was like this for years. I think it got even worse (Adventure, and thus Yamato/Taichi, has always been more popular than any of the 02 characters, and even more so after they lost their momentum).

They just were everywhere, in every goddamn fic, no matter what other pairing you were actually looking for. I was once reading some football RPS, and when the guys in that story were listening to the radio, the host mentioned someone had called in and asked to play the previous song, from Yamato to Taichi (or the other way round) – you can’t even make that shit up.

At this point they just annoyed me so much that I made a point of not shipping them, and I think I’d also reached a point where I was a bit tired of the whole “they’re rivals/always beating each other up, so they obviously are in love” trope.

I also discovered Taichi/Koushiro (which I still think is an amazing ship that at least the German fandom has always been completely sleeping on), so I had even more reason to not ship Yamato/Taichi.

And I honestly think it would always have been this way, but then tri. happened. And hit me with full force. Because they were older, and somewhat calmer/less aggressive around each other, but still very much themselves, and most of all so blatantly obvious.

I was still in denial during most of part 1, but I already knew when Mimi shoved them into a Ferris wheel cabin and declared the group had brought them together that I was fighting a losing battle, and by part 2 with the entire onsen visit and the bickering afterwards, it was over.

Look. I get it. They’re really it. They work so well together, there’s so much there, they’re the blueprint for so many anime ships, they give me way too many feelings. (Help.)

I still don’t really ship them pre!tri., though. Partly probably because of my history with the ship, but also because I like their dynamic so much better now, and because I simply like the idea of people getting together later in life, or at the very least after they’ve at least finished high school.

TL;DR: I never, ever thought I’d fall into Taito hell, and yet here I am, in the year 2k24, absolutely obsessed with them once again. Thank you, Digimon, you’re the gift that keeps on giving.