#(...who was acting more like Don Hard-to-Get)

[abearinthewoods]

This is what radical feminists do when you don't agree that 100% of men jerk off to rape.

@radfemih8men Care to fucking explain yourself? (edit: she did, in the comments. long story, she confirmed it and thinks two wrongs make a right)

>mentions the darknet. 100% needs to have her hard drive check out.

Anyways, report this convo to the police, saying this kind of thing to a 13 year old is actually a sex offense PURELY ON ITS OWN in a lot of places.

[micrathene-w]

Checklist Challenge 7

I feel like I should subtitle this one "The Hunt for Don!"

Since Mr Lothario didn't show up at any of the gyms (or anywhere else Alexa had visited), we had to venture to the Caliente household and hope for the best. Luckily -and unluckily - everyone was home. So she finally got the meet the infamous Don... but they couldn't just speed-run through to doing the deed, as Alexa wasn't about to incur the wrath of all three Caliente women.

For the moment, she settled for an introduction, then added him on Social Bunny and sent a couple of flirty messages there. After a little more fishing and Practicing Speech to get that Charisma up, she headed back to the Rattlesnake Juice Bar and called Don to see if he'd join her.

He agreed, showed up on the lot, walked up to the door - then immediately turned around and dipped out. 😒

Saturday, Alexa hit her goal for the Side Hustle simoleons.

Since maxed Handiness comes into play later, these funds went to buying a woodworking table. Once she builds up a stock of little statues, a sales table can be the next purchase so she can sell those, her excess honey from the bee box, and collectibles.

(This is also about the point where her "Outdoorsy" Lifestyle started working against us. Even though the woodworking table is outside in the yard, apparently anything on her home lot counts as indoors; she kept getting Bored moodlets from "being stuck inside" even when there was rain falling on her little blonde pixel head.)

Saturday morning followed the usual routine: tend garden, eat grilled cheese, pop over to The Realm to see what tomes, crystals & ingredients are on offer for the day, then switch out between several different skills so she doesn't get too bored of any one.

In the evening just because The Watcher was feeling grudgy, she tried to spend time with Don again, this time heading to the bar in Evergreen Harbor. (Hey, Dumpster Woohoo is on the list too, and Don was being trash anyway, so...)

This time he at least walked inside the building - and even had a couple of interactions with Alexa. Then he walked back outside, coughed dramatically, and vanished again.

[I vented to @whyhellosims about this, then wondered if maybe Neighborhood Stories or MCCC had shoe-horned him into an evening job, and that's why he kept leaving. She suggested the "invite to hang out at current lot" might be buggy at the moment, and to try Travel With instead.]

SO to try to dodge both possible issues, Alexa skipped her first chance at the Flea Market, and at around lunchtime on Sunday invited Don to Travel With her to the Salty Paws Saloon after a quick switch of their regular garbage can for a dumpster.

Lo and behold, the bartender knew how to make Cupid Juice - a nice little boost to the mood I had not expected but certainly wouldn't complain about! And with that help, finally...

The two-fer was accomplished! ...and now Alexa can dip out on Don, never to be seen again lol.

[the-melancholic-human]

I am still pissed off that i wrote something super cute about single mom reader and simon, and tumblr didn’t save it in my drafts

But more on the topic of nobleman simon riley with the young cute wife he got himself from the village to calm me down:

Simon never thought of himself as someone who would enjoy the little moments of life, when he looked at a sunset he would simply see that, a sunset, nothing more, but his wife, no no no she’s the polar opposite

When she picks fresh tomatoes from their garden and drops them into her skirt, she’s laughing out loud, her cheeks rosy pink from the summer heat and the pure joy that seems to run in her veins. She holds up the tomatoes to simon, yelling out his name to get his attention, and simon is just sitting on a chair reading a book trying to not think about all the dirt under his wife’s nails and how damp the garden walls smell during the humid summers, but his wife, oh no she’s running around grabbing tomatoes from the bushes, while she hums a melody quietly

“Mr riley!! Look at this one! It’s so red!”

“ ‘s jus’ a tomato, woman, please keep y’voice down”

And when her skirt is full of tomatoes she runs back to simon, dropping all of the red bulbs of freshness right onto his cleaned and steamed pants

“I got you all of these! Aren’t you happy??”

“ y’skirt is absolutely filthy, ‘s it so hard to jus’ act a bit more timid?”

She shakes her head, laughing at his comment, as she grabs one of the tomatoes from simon’s lap and rubs off the dirt on her dress, and takes a bite

“I think you should losen up a bit you know? Take that stick out of where the sun don’t shine”

She laughs at her own joke, simon on the other hand scrunches up his nose at the rude string of words that his so called wife just spat out at him

But you know

Even though he gets angry at his wife for rolling around in mud all day, for jumping up and down on the bed, for scaring the maid ten times a day, for chasing around the ducks and chickens, for swearing every time she drops something

He can’t help how his heart skips a beat when he hears her scream and laugh and shout and swear. And here’s the thing, simon is starting to like the chaos she seems to bring to everything

And before he knows it, he’s standing up from his chair in the garden, holding the girl’s soft hand, as he lets her walk him to the tomato bushes. And he actually kneels in the mud, cautiously grabbing a red tomato and lightly tugging on it, looking at his wife for reassurance,

“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

And when she runs her fingers through his hair with those dirty hands, like she’s petting a lost puppy, simon absolutely loses it

And he laughs! Like an idiot who’s in love! He hates himself for it. But, you know, he can keep the anger for another time, right now he’ll just sit there and let his wife tug at his blonde hair while the warm sun shines down on his pale and freckled face. And he breaths, for what feels like the first time in years.

The maid runs out, holding her dress in her fists as she scolds simon

“Sir! Please for the love of god get up! I’ve just washed your clothes!”

“Y’know… i think ‘m good here, and i think… y’need to take tha’ stick out of where the sun don’ shine”

God he looks up at you with a proud look, like he’s done something so bad and he needs your approval for it, and when you nod your head with a smile he just melts.

Just saying, the poor maid does not like your behavior one bit, especially now that it’s rubbing off on simon.

[ludwigplayingthetrombone]

Post war/coma comic about Gai struggling with his recovery

Since tumblr hates long form comics, I have to split this into 2 bc its 36 images. This is the first part, part 2 i'll either do as a reblog or a separate post right after this, stay tuned! Links to support me in pinned post <3

tw: s*icidal thoughts, injury, a little blood

Bisuke: Gai's Back!

Gai: GRAAH!

Kks: Im home Gai: Welcome back Kks: [wheels rolling] Hey,

Kks: Ga-!? Gai: Im fine. The tile is cool on my face. Kks: Wanna go lay down in bed? Gai: I am so /sick/ of lying down. Kks: Ok. What do you want for supper?

Gai: You're not going to comment? Kks: I already know what happened. You overdid it again. I should be able to keep up with chores, kakashi. Kks: You can. Just don' bull through it all in one go. Do you want to end up in the hospital again? Gai: Please don't. Kks: I know sitting still is hard for you, and "too much" is in your DNA, but you have to take this slow so you don't exacerbate your injuries, Gai. You went from hyper-aware to pretending your body limits dont exist. Gai: Like you haven't done the same.

Gai: You've proved your point. Kks: It's not about that. And you've dragged me to bed and out of bed repeatedly when I needed it. You were burning alive from the inside. Tsunade told you your immune system is out of whack. You need to take it easy. /I/ know you're capable, but are you trying to prove to /yourself/ you are? Gai: You want me to admit my embarrassment? Kks: If something serioud happens, You'll be even more embarrassed then

Gai: How could you possibly know how I FEEL?! How could you EVER KNOW HOW I FEEL?! Kks: I DON'T! But I've /been/ the one ouking and sobbing on your bathroom floor because I couldn't take living anymore! And I don't want that for YOU!

Kks: I'm sorry, Gai. Gai: I'm sorry

Kks: I can't stand knowing you're in pain, and I can't get you help. If there was a way, I'd do anything. Gai: You do so much to help me already.... And I yelled at you Kks: I've screamed at you so much, that was pretty tame. I wish I was like you with things like this. Not great with what to say...... But I can listen.

Gai: I hate feeling so weak. I'm tired all the time, in constant pain, I can't even walk-..... I can tell tenten and the boys worry despite my efforts to appear positive. Kks: They're just not sure how to react. They know you hate being babied, but don't want to push you into hurting yourself. You hate being told you can't do something. They love you. You get stronger everyday, everyone is cheering you on.

Gai: I know it's irrational, but... I feel like you gave up the Hokage position to take care of me. Kks: Haa!? I'm grateful if anything. I'd be retired too if I could. That'd be amazing. I'm dreading just helping Tsunade but as long as you're by my side, I'll be fine. We're still equals, rivals, friends, partners

Gai: Even if I can't- Kks: /Always/ wil be, dickhead. Gai: You worry about me hurting myself? Kks: I know you think about it

Kks: We're the same in that regard Gai: I would never act on this, please believe me, these thoughts are rare........... Kks: It's ok, Gai. Gai: Sometimes I think i should have just died. I feel so out of place on the streets I used to feel so at home at. I never asked to live. I didn't plan to. I just don't know how to-...

Kks: I understand that. Though, dying didn't feel any better. Gai: I know I didn't fully pass like you did. I didn't see papa. Just for a moment, I wish I could have seen him.

Kks: As much as I'm sure he wants to see you again, It's too soon. Dai'd slap the shit out of you for wanting to waste your youth just to see him. Gai: [chuckle] probably. Kks: I have those thoughts less and less now, but they're still there. "why am I the one who survives?" "Burden" "Gai will come to his senses eventually"

Gai: FALSE!! None of my grief is with you! I love living here with you! My love for you only burns hotter each day! You're so lovely inside and out! Kks: Maa What did I do to deserve such praise from teh mouth of the hottest man in Konoha?? Gai: YOU STILL THINK I'M HOT?! Kks: YOU-! [CACKLE]

Kks: Your bad taste is the only reason I had a chance before someone snatched you up. Gai: The worst. Kks: Thought we'd irritate eachother, but it's been pretty smooth. Even though you still get played by the dogs. Gai: You really wanna throw those stones?

Gai: They play you just as easily. don't lie. Kks: My point is, whatever you need from me, you have it. No questions asked. Even if you yell and scream, i can take it. You held me together when I was unraveling, and I'll never forget it. Didn't trust anyone else to see me like that. Broken

Gai: I never saw you as that. Kks: I'll never see you as that

[bokunoheros]

TAGS/WARNINGS: reader is gender neutral but afab, reader and kiri are 3rd yrs (meaning everyone is 18+), biting duh lol, slight blood play (but its only bc kiri’s teeth r so mf sharp), uhm riding ig, idk this is pretty vanilla and also kinda short GENRE: smut & kinda fluff SUMMARY: you finally work up the courage to ask your shark-toothed boyfriend to bite you—something he enjoys much more than he thought he would. WORD COUNT: 765 🦊’s A/N: kiri… you r so precious but also a bad bitch…. anyway i’ll be back for the next three days. god save me

     “i want you to bite me.”

     “huh?!” eijirou pulls away from your sloppy kiss, wiping away the spit on his lips with the back of his hand as he looks at you with a dumbfounded expression. 

     you two had known each other since middle school, and had been dating for about six months now. currently, you were straddling his lap, his dick buried deep within your creamy cunt, with his back propped up against the headboard.

     “you heard me,” you tell him. “please, eiji,” you add, a pout tugging at your lips as you hit him with your best puppy dog eyes. 

     one thing about eijirou kirishima is that he was always careful when it came to you — never being too rough with you, acting as if you were made out of glass or porcelain, when that’s the last thing that you were. you didn’t take it personally, of course, as you knew eijirou was just kinda like that, but still…. you wish he’d do something other than just covering you in kisses. 

     you were well aware of his shark-like teeth, and truthfully, you wouldn’t mind if the jagged fangs drew a little bit of blood…. you’re sure your boyfriend would, though, so you don’t bother mentioning that part to him.

     “are you— are you sure?” he asks, a little hesitant as he looks you in the eye. 

     “never been so sure about anything, baby—please just bite me, i promise this isn’t something i’m asking for on a whim,” you try to convince him.

     “you’ve thought about it before? me biting you?” you can feel his dick twitch inside you, like he liked that you’d been thinking about him. 

     “yeah, so please bite me, baby, i promise you’re not gonna hurt me,” you coo, cupping your boyfriend’s face and pressing a heated kiss to his spit-soaked lips. it’s eijirou who pulls away first, kissing your cheek, and then your jaw, down to your neck, licking over the column of your throat before he nibbles lightly against a particularly sensitive spot and you let out a little moan to encourage him.

     eijirou’s ears perk up at the noise you make, and his dick twitches in response as he bites down a little harder—careful not to draw blood, though, he knew how sharp his teeth were. 

     “harder,” you whimper quietly, rolling your hips down against his, cunt fluttering around his cock. 

     “are you sure? i don’ wanna hut yo—”

     “eiji, please just shut up and bite me,” you whine pathetically, and suddenly eijirou finds himself obeying your request without a second thought, sinking his teeth into your shoulder, so hard that his eyes fly open when he tastes something metallic and coppery—oh shit! oh, fuck! he had drawn blood!

     carefully, he licks up the red liquid and pulls away to look at you—just to find you nearly cross eyed as you tried to ride him, jaw dropped in sheer bliss as you pant heavily, your tits bouncing with each heave of your chest.

     oh. 

     he feels himself get impossibly harder, even without his quirk, and his cock spasms inside your messy cunt as he ruts up into you, firmly grabbing onto your hips as he spreads his legs a little wider and plants his feet against the mattress to start really fucking up into you, and you can feel the wind get knocked out of your lungs.

     “aa–aah! nngh, fuck, eiji—!” it’s all you can do to whimper and moan, grabbing onto his shoulders for stability. 

     bringing his lips back to your skin, he bites at the junction of your neck and shoulder before sucking at the flesh there, working to leave a mark that would last a week at least.

     “mmh,” you hum, nails leaving crescent shaped marks in their wake. “bite me all y’want, baby,” you tell him, one hand threading itself into his spiky hair. it’s not as soft as it could be, due to the gel keeping it up, but you tug gently at the red locks anyway.

     kirishima takes your words at face value, biting and licking all along the surface of your neck, covering it in bite marks, drawing blood in less noticeable places like your shoulders or the base of your neck (unless your hero costume was revealing… in which case, that completely slipped his mind).

     at first, he didn’t quite get the appeal of inflicting pain onto a partner, no matter how minor, but after seeing your reaction, and feeling the way your pussy fluttered around him with each new mark? yeah, he was quick to change his mind.

return to KINKTOBER | MAIN M.LIST

[mattslolita]

꒰shy!matt & fuckgirl!reader꒱ ⟡headcanons !

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚

꒰ SFW! ꒱

fuckgirl!reader would've . . .

✦ met matt at a party she was hosting — well, more or less she would've bumped into the poor kid; she'd never seen him around before, but from taking one look at him? it didn't take too long to have him under her arm by the end of the night.

"never seen you around here before...came with friends?"

"my brothers dragged me here, m'not sure what i'm even doin-"

"are you- you're one of those triplets, yeah?"

"yeah, i'm matt-"

"think i'm gonna like you, matt...stop fiddlin' baby, m'not gonna bite you, 'kay? unless you're into that."

fuckgirl!reader would . . .

✦ make it a point to drag matt to every party she's either hosting, or attending — he's nervously got his arm around her waist, whilst she's combing her freshly manicured nails through his brown locs while greeting her friends and whatnot.

"y/n, who's this?"

"this is matt, cute, ain't he?"

fuckgirl!reader would . . .

✦ not make it clear, but basically matt is hers — dating? no. whatever they were, everyone knew to steer clear of the shy, blue eyed boy, for her claws were already nestled knee deep into his heart.

"you here with someone? why don't you-"

"back the fuck up an' leave, yeah? he's with me."

fuckgirl!reader would . . .

✦ secretly enjoy matt's constant need for physical affection — the subtle whine as he desperately tries to get her attention whether it was reaching out for her, or brushing his hand against her thigh.

"pretty girl..."

"whatcha want baby, huh? wan' me on your lap? use your words f'me."

"on my lap...please..."

"course, pretty boy, c'mere."

fuckgirl!reader would . . .

✦ be ready to throw hands with whoever says one thing about matt's shy nature — their contrasting personalities is one of the reasons she gravitated towards him; the shy, quiet boy and the social butterfly of a girl — she wanted to preserve that much about him.

"kid doesn't even fuckin' talk half the time."

"y'know what, i'd rather him barely talk and have him say something intelligible- which is more than what i could say for you cause every time you open your mouth, it's fuckin' nonsense. fuck outta here."

"y'think i'm intelligent?"

"what kinda question is that, huh? course i think you're smart, pretty boy."

fuckgirl!reader would . . .

✦ never admit it, but she loves it when matt does girlfriend like things for her — whether it was the casual arm resting on her hip or the shopping sprees, she loved every bit of it.

"aw, this dress is too cute! whatcha think baby?"

"put it on my card, pretty girl."

"what, no way, matt. i can pay for it myself!"

"b-but i just wan' do somethin' nice for you...can i buy it for you? please?"

✦ but it was the small things that really did it for her — she loved it when he grabbed her possessively, or when he studied with her after school. little picnics, cozy dinners, and cuddles warmed her heart the most. ( but you'd never catch her admitting to falling for him. hard. )

fuckgirl!reader would . . .

✦ secretly steal matt's clothes if she's over his house — little by little, things like sweaters or shirts would make disappearances because she's busy taking them for herself.

"princess, have you seen my boston jersey?"

"tsk, not that i know of, baby. if i find it, i'll give it to you!"

( as the jersey sits tucked away at the top of her drawer. . . )

fuckgirl!reader would . . .

✦ unknowingly have an affect on matt and his tendency to not speak up for himself — her unapologetic bluntness helped alot.

"i don' think she wans' me, she jus' wants to study-"

"she wants to fuck you, matt. an' there's no way that's happenin' on my watch."

"i'm serious, princess! she-"

"matt, shut the fuck up. you're not goin' to study with her, got it?"

"yes ma'am." ( oh ma'am drives her wild. )

fuckgirl!reader would . . .

✦ do small acts of dominance if she felt like someone wanted to get at matt — she didn't care if they were around people; if she felt the need to start making out with him in a crowded room whilst people watched them, she's doing it.

fuckgirl!reader would . . .

✦ unknowingly smile at small things matt would do, like if he started rambling about something that happened to him that — the way his brown curls fell messily across his forehead whilst his arms flailed around animatedly, and the way his blue eyes were slightly widened and his cheeks had a pink tinge to them due to his excitement. . .she wouldn't even realize she'd been admiring him the whole time, not even listening at one point.

"...hey, y'still there?"

"huh? what?"

"were you starin' at me? stop that..."

"aw, why should i, pretty boy? y'look so cute all excited an' shit. keep talkin', gorgeous."

꒰ NSFW! ꒱

fuckgirl!reader would . . .

✦ take matt's shy nature to her advantage, and completely slut that boy out.

"p-please princess...n-need t'cum, please..."

"aw, am i ridin' you too good, can't even speak up when i ask you to?"

fuckgirl!reader would . . .

✦ purposely mess with matt by cuddling up to other guys ( never actually fucking them ) because she loves the way matt pleases her when he shows her how much better he can make her feel then all the rest.

"oh go- fuck, so good, baby! ya such a good boy f'me, don't stop..."

fuckgirl!reader would . . .

✦ love cowgirl with matt, always forcing him to look her in the eyes whilst she rides him.

"fuck, fillin' me up s'good, pretty boy. look at me baby, wan' see them pretty eyes..."

fuckgirl!reader would . . .

✦ let matt suck on her breasts like the needy man he is — instead of asking to please her, he'd look up at her with sultry eyes and begin sucking on the soft mound of skin, silently asking to do more.

"whas' the matter, pretty boy, tell me what you need."

" please...jus' wan make you feel good..."

fuckgirl!reader would . . .

✦ endlessly tease matt in any way — she would grind against his clothed erection, sucking on his neck in that sweet spot that makes him weak,

"i- fuck, n-need t'feel you, princess."

"gonna be good f'me, sweet boy?"

"y-yes, always..."

✦ and she would always tease his tip before fully taking him — kitten lick on the underside, hearing the needy whimpers leave his lips as she grins up at him, seeing his flushed and exasperated expression.

"i ju- wan' cum princess, please just touch me."

"patience pretty boy, such a pretty cock...gonna make you feel s'good, yeah?"

shy!matt who . . .

✦ blindfolds you whilst he eats you out — he's too timid to have you see him grind against the bed needily while he devours you like his last meal.

shy!matt who . . .

✦ whimpers upon the smallest touches you gift him with, leaving him extremely frustrated and needy for you.

shy!matt who . . .

✦ cries during sex because the pleasure is too overwhelming for him — the feeling of being inside of you, how intimate it all was, made him emotional.

shy!matt who . . .

✦ loves giving and receiving marks — he loves to mark you up on your inner thighs and your neck, and he loves receiving them everywhere on his body.

shy!matt who . . .

✦ is a giver — he loves your praise as he pleasures you with his tongue, much for his own enjoyment as much as it is yours.

( kiwi's corner 💌 )

so so excited to introduce fuckgirl!reader & shy!matt !! they're gonna be another one of my favs, i hope you guys will like them !! muah.💌

taglist🥝 : @muwapsturniolo @thenickgirl @luverboychris @cottoncandyswisherz @chanelles-world

@sturnprime @aelinslegend @chrissturniolossidehoe @sturniqloo @chaossturns

@fairyrcts @mbbsgf @sturnsxplr-25 @moonk1ss3d @oliviasturniolo21

@wh4re4chratt @cyberdre4ms @luvleyangeldust @pvssychicken @lovesturni0l0s

@delilahsturniolo @venusxsturnio @chrissystur @sweetangelgirl7 @wovenribbons

@chrispotatos @chrissystur @jetaimevous @55sturn @yn-ws

@u-didnt-see-this @caseybennett @lowkeyobsessedwthesturniolos @sparklyskies0

@sturnsxbitvh @watercolorskyy @bagsbyclair0 @lovingregulusblack @starkeyszn

@victoryouactuallydidthis @colorthecosmos444 @elizasturn @y3sterdaysproblem @mattsfavoritestar

@78yaz @raerae1230 @slvttie-zx

[seranextdoor]

HAUNTING ~ JASON P. TODD. 18+

Summary: Maybe blocking Jason isn't such a great idea.

Contents: dry humping, oral sex (female receiving), fingering in the alleyway, fucking in the alleyway hence risky sex slash teeny tiny bit of exhibitionism, rough sex, size difference, unhealthy relationship.

Pairing: Jason P. Todd X Female! Reader.

Word count: 2.6k

Author note: an anon implied that they want a part two of the drabble i made abt ex! jason. it is here... and it's valentine's day special. sorry for dropping bangers and leaving for another 2 months. will do it again. enjoy!

🖥️ MAIN MENU. PART ONE.

I know if I’m haunting you,

you must be haunting me.

You told yourself this was going to be the last time. The morning after Jason had left, you were already blocking his number and changing the lock to your front door the next day. Maybe it’s the post-nut clarity that helps you realized that maybe… maybe this things going on between you and him wasn’t exactly healthy. Maybe it’s a good idea to ignore the calls you’ve been getting from ‘unknown’ caller knowing full well it was him.

You think it’s a little cute when he went as far as to text you from Dick’s number.

He thinks you’re a brat.

Besides, who cares if what him and you had going on wasn’t healthy? You didn’t have to blocked him.

Whatever, what’s done is done. “He’s going to stop reaching out eventually.” you told yourself only to see him leaning against his bike, waiting for you in one of the alleyway you always passes after your night shift a week after blocking him. The red helmet slightly glints in the dark when the streetlight hits, “come here,” he murmurs, head tilts slightly to the side. There’s a battered bouquet of red roses in his hand, the veins on his forearm pokes out from how tight he gripped the bouquet to the point that the stems are crushed. “Happy Valentine’s Day, princess. Come get your flowers.” Jason adds, his other hand reached up to removed his helmet as he placed it on the seat of his bike.

”I don’t want to.” A small huff left your lips.

”Just do it, goddamnit [Y/N].”

Old habits die hard.

Your shoulders drops in defeat as you dragged your feet to him, you can’t help it. As much as you want to keep up the ‘I’ve-totally-moved-on’ acts, you just can’t. So here you are, not even five minutes in and Jason already had his arms wrapped around your waist, his lips naturally finding their way to yours the second you had your head slightly tilts up. “Blocked my number, huh? What, you think you’re so mature, huh?” He snorts, letting the bouquet falls from his hand to hold you tighter in his arms. “I didn’t block you…” You whined, standing on your tip toes to keep him quiet by smothering his lips with small pecks.

”Yeah right, that’s totally believable.” He scoffed in between the pecks you're giving him, his head tilts down to make it easier for you to reached in for more kisses. “Because my texts and calls totally got thru.” You can practically taste the sarcasm dripping from the way he talks to you. “I might have accidentally blocked you.” You pulled back slightly to watch as his face gradually sours. He stared back at you with an annoyed look, his brows furrowed before a low groan leaves his lips. “Face the wall.” He groaned, his fingers running thru his black locks before you reluctantly turn to face the wall, “We’re doing it right here?” You stuttered as you spared him a glance over your shoulder, your eyes quickly widened when he pressed himself against you. His bulge slightly rubs against your ass, his hands digs into your hips to keep you still. “Damn right we are.” He says, his breathing slightly staggered as he moves his hips slightly to get more friction against his clothed cock.

You leaned the back of your head, fingers latching onto his forearms as a support. “You’re so annoying, you know that, right?” He speak with a gruff, there’s creases on his forehead as Jason looked back at him. “How many times are you going to do this, huh? Acting like I don’t exist and blocking my number the second we had sex. I’m gettin’ real sick of it, [Y/N].” His hand reached up to grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at him  as he grinds himself against the curves of your ass. “Fucking brat.” He adds, his thumb gently brushing over your lips. “My fucking brat.”

“I don’t know,” you breathes, your lips instinctively parting as Jason slips his thumb into your mouth. “…until you’re bored of me?.” You muffled out your words, eyes slowly turning cloudy from the having his cock brushing up against you. He scoffed at your reasoning, rolling his eyes before he pressed his thumb down your tongue.

”As if.” He mumbled, leaning down slightly to rest his chin on your shoulder. “You’re gonna block me again after this?” His eyes flickered to looked back at you. You stared at him for a solid minute with only the sound of his jeans and your skirt rubbing together can be heard before he removed his thumb off your tongue to let you speak. “No?” You stammers, mentally cursing yourself when he smirked at your answer. “Good girl.” He replied, his hand falls to the hem of your skirt.

”I missed you,” A soft whine left his lips as his fingers desperately reached down to rub your clit. Jason leaned against you to leave kisses on your neck and up to your jaw as his fingers pushes your panties aside. “You’re so wet already, baby.” He mutters, massaging the bundle of nerves in a circular motion. He slowly swipes his fingers between your folds as you leave trails of your wetness on his fingers. “Looks like this pretty little thing misses me too.” He chuckled when you whimpers at the feeling of his fingers being pushed inside of you. “I missed you too…” You whined, eyes shut tight as he pumps his digits deeper into your sopping cunt. The wetness between your legs sticks to your thighs and clings to his fingers, his teeth hungrily leaving marks on your neck. “Sorry for blocking you.” Your body shuddered in sheer bliss when his fingers curls with his calloused palm constantly brushing against your clit.

”Yeah? You’re sorry?” He asked, his voice growing breathy while his other hand clumsily undo his belt and zipper. A small frustrated groan leaves his throat before he pulls his fingers out of you causing you to pout and whine. “Oh, come on. Give me a second.” He laughed, turning you around but this time facing his bike. He moves your leg up on the seat before he kneel down behind you. “Fuck… Look at that.” He whispers, his warm breath fanned against your pussy before he desperately buried his face in between your thighs. “Jason!” You squeaked, toes curling upon feeling his tongue lapping on your clit with his fingers tightly gripping your thighs. His thick fingers leaving marks on your skin as you squirmed on his bike, causing him to land a spank on your cheek.

You whined. “What’s that for?” You looked back at him only to be met with his dazed eyes and his mouth still latching onto your pussy, drinking every liquid that drips out of you. For once in the span of an hour filled with nothing but his sarcasm, he was quiet. Except for the occasional groans and moans every time you pushes deeper against his nose. Your nails digs into the cushion of his seat as you whimpers when he slide his tongue into your entrance, prodding in and out of your entrance before he finally pulled back for some air.

”Jeez, Jay…” He looked up at you when you pouted, his cheeks and chin were coated with your juices before his eyes cast down to the way you wiggled your hips at him. “…keep going.” You bat your lashes at him, the excitement in your stomach stirs as he tugs his pants and boxer just low enough for his cock to springs out of the tight confinement before gently slapping against his stomach. His thumb keeping your panties aside and your entrance exposed to him, "Calm down, princess." He sighs before his teeth digs into his lower lip, it's been a hard week since he felt anything close to this. Sure, he settled on his fist for the first two days before he completely stopped when he realised that fucking his fist to the thought of you wasn't as good as fucking you.

He slowly moves his hips, managing to bury the tip of his cock inside of you as he lets out a choked moan. "Still feels good as ever." He moaned, head tilted back with his eyes closed. His cock twitches in you when small whines falls past your lips, sending vibrations down to him as the muscles tightening around his length. "Christ, you're still not used to me?" His breath were shaky before he looked down to you, admiring at the clear size difference between the two of you as you tried your best to take every inch of him.

"S'not my fault," You huffed, your legs slightly trembles underneath him. Jason shifts your position slightly, holding you by the waist with one hand while his other hand makes their way under your shirt to fondled with your tits. "Never said it was." He replied, pushing his cock deeper inside of you until he’s halfway in when he stopped, noticing the way you tensed up. “It’s okay, baby. Just a few more inches and the hard part’s over.” Your body shuddered from his whispers, his breath tickling the back of your neck before you quickly nods at his words. His hand reached to wiped the sweats off your forehead before his hips slowly moves, “Mhm, just like that�� Just relax.” Jason coos, planting small kisses on your temples.

A whine break out of your sealed lips when he completely buried himself inside of you, filling every crevices off your pussy with his twitching cock. The curve of his length itches just the sweet spot to make you see stars, “Jason…” The sound of you calling his name temporarily distracts him from the way your pussy clamped him down. His fingers had its deadly grips on your hips as you stand on your tip toes just to slightly fuck yourself on his cock, “Yeah?” He croaked, replying back to you with a deeper tone as he glanced down to the way your ass softly slaps against his pelvis, “You’re adjusting?” He asked before you let a small ‘mhm’ left your lips.

“You’re just fucking yourself on me.”

“No, I’m not.” You lied with a crooked grin. Jason rolled his eyes.

“Just look at the damn wall. You’re gonna break that dainty little neck if you keep looking back at me like that.” He mumbled, moving his hips into you in a more quicker pace. “Hold onto my helmet. Drop it and I’m stopping.” He grabbed a fistful off your ass while you quickly grabbed the red helmet, hugging it to your chest. The sound of skin slapping can be heard throughout the dark alleyway, your shared moans and groans reverberates and bounces off the brick walls. He moves his hand down between your legs, his fingers pressing down on your clit as he moves it in sloppy, circular motion. His other hand holding on the handle of his bike, “Lift your ass up, baby.” He grunted, brow furrowing as his hips moves back and forth, every thrust felt like he’s sending you over the edge.

”I’m trying!” You said in a hushed tone, too breathless. You weren’t sure if your knees can take anymore before they buckled to the dirty ground. In an act of desperation, Jason lifts you up with his forearm under your stomach causing your legs to dangled off the ground before he continue shoving his fat cock into your dripping pussy. You let out a small gasp, he’s really doing it-- he’s quite literally carrying you like a doll. “Can’t even do the simplest thing.” He huffed, eyes closed with his the tip of his nose tickling the crook of your neck as your fingers clings to his helmet, not wanting to dropped it lest he stopped just for the sake of making you miserable.

Your eyes lazily gazes at the other end of the alleyway where anyone that decides to passed the alleyway can noticed the both of you. Your cheeks warmed up at the thought, minimizing your moans into small squeaks and whines. You glanced at Jason, hoping he doesn’t notice only for him to sharply thrust into you to elicit a loud moan out of you, green eyes narrowing down at you. “Don’t be quiet,” He whispered, his other hand reached to traced the curve of your spine with his thumb lightly. “Let me hear you.” He dragged his voice to sound slightly whiny just to tease you even further.

You hated how much you expected this from the get go.

Blocking him was never an option, Jason has a knack when it comes to keeping you tied to him. One command from him and you’d rushed back into his arms like a puppy, hopelessly lingering around him. “Feels so good…” You whispered back, lashes thick with salty tears as wanton moans spills out of your swollen lips. You hated the fact that the both of you knows this. You’re not even sure if the both of you were even exes at some point. The feeling of the head of his cock brushing against your sweet spot sends you shivering despite being half dressed, it doesn’t help how godly his cock is. The delicious curve that sends you whining for more, the noticeable vein on the side of his length, the way his balls slaps against your clit, the thickness of it-- all of it drives you insane, fills your body with nothing but carnal desires.

“Outside? Inside?” He asked in between his groans, strands of his black locks sticks to his forehead as his jaw clenches. You know it’s near when his movement grow sloppy and inconsistent, his eyes darkened with sheer lust and the muscles on his bicep flexes. “Fuck, don’t just gimme puppy eyes, princess. Answer me.” He said with gritted teeth, purposely moving his hips rougher into you as you cried out of pleasure. “Out, out, out…” Your babbles almost went incoherent when you choked on your own moans while you blinks away the tears that welled at the corned of your eyes. He nods his head, burying his face into your shoulder as his arm around your waist tightens.

”Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” He curses, his head spinning and leaving him dizzy. Jason wanted to stay inside of you badly, the warmth of your cunt wrapping snugly around him screams nothing but heaven. And the fact that you’re already cumming on his cock before he even gets to pulled out? God, you’re just torturing him at this point. He pulled out of you right before he finishes, wet and sticky seeds shooting on your back and staining your skirt as he winces when the cold air hits his cock. “Oh my god.” His chuckle were airy, skin were slightly flushed from the lovemaking. Jason cradled you in his arms, turning you around to face him before placing you on top of his bike.

”You okay?” He asked, softly massaging your inner thighs. His forehead presses against yours, his gaze softened at the sight of you looking back at him with tired eyes. “Yep.” Your answer were short as you steadied your breathing, your arms wrapped around his neck to pulled him closer while Jason fixes your clothes.

”Wanna go rest at my place?”

The both of you stared at each other for a solid minute. You give him a small nod.

“That’s my girl.”

DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR MODIFY ANY OF MY WORKS. ©️ KENNEDYBABY.

[brynn-lear]

Sugar Pills (Yandere!Capitano/Reader)

Questionable Overview: You're getting real tired of Dottore's theatrics. Which is a great shame, considering how it's only now that Capitano learns the value of surface acting and masking. (from my series: #Capitano's So-Called Liability)

CW/Tags: there is no "real" age gaps since this is a Howl's Moving Castle scenario, slowburn/soft yandere themes, afab!reader, mild violence. While this fic isn't "too dark", the reader isn't mentally stable. Please prioritize your mental health first, you matter.

Prev || Next

When coming up with a proposal, you've learned that it's best to approach a harbinger when they're in the middle of an arms race. It's been ages since you've applied this knowledge, but luckily, dusting off memories of yesteryears isn't challenging.

"Can't even spare me a proper welcome?" You yawned, dropping a beaten and dead fatuus just inches away from an unforgettable metal-laced shoe. The sound of their empty vision clunked on the hard floor. "I might not be as much in the spotlight these days, dear, but isn't it good manners to greet your elders properly when they visit?"

The aforementioned shoe brushed the body away. "Hah. You make a terrible habit of flaunting that cosmetic age of yours."

And yet, there you stood, glaring with a smug head up high. No ordinaire can don the demeanor you flaunt in front of the second-ranked harbinger. You'll always keep the cloak-and-dagger act. Dramatics are second nature to those who earn their keep through blood money. You only saw it right to greet him with a more appropriate entrance. Bold and unfaltering in resolve.

"And you have a great habit of looking younger with each passing day," you feigned a chirpy tone. "Isn't that right, Doctor?"

Behind a crow's mask, crimson eyes bore holes into your very being.

Since you received that "birthday present" from him, he had sent out men to secretly nag you behind the Captain's back. They ask you why you haven't taken the medicine at best and attempt to drug you at worst. This rendezvous had been going on for weeks. Enough times that could manifest anger and murderous intent out of you until it did.

After reaching the limit of your patience, you murdered the last person to spike your perfectly fine water, took his vision and portable waypoint, and teleported to his master harbinger's base. Too much work just to get someone to stop pestering you.

The feeling is mutual. Il Dottore— the last of his perspective— also found your presence troublesome.

The second-ranked harbinger spent his "free" time in a painfully bright, pale room. He likes to dub this phase a "recovery state." Typically, there would be plenty of "him" to go around— but striking a deal for a gnosis always beckons a great deal of self-sacrifice. Or self-sacrifice-s. 

Hence why you pushed to visit him this instance. Despite his placid demeanor, you're confident he's eager to prove that there's a method to his madness. Oneself is always the greatest competitor. 

A proper arms race. 

"You know very well that I do not take youth as a compliment," he retorted, though his tone was considerably friendly. He made repeated tapping motions on his armchair, almost impatiently. "What trivial matter have you dared to interrupt my brainstorming session with? Speak now— I'll let you know I'm engaged with matters of greater significance."

"I've done my due diligence of personally replying to your last letter." You glared down at your last victim. "Consider this my thanks."

Without tearing your gaze away, you fished the medicine from your coat and threw it at his chest with all your might. The bottle shattered on the floor.

Greatly "offended" by your rude antics, Dottore defeatedly abandoned his scrawls and turned to properly look at you.

"You decided to skip the pills. How delightfully reckless of you, Granny (Y/n)." He sardonically smiled.

At least he has the decency to name you correctly.

You rolled your eyes as you approached. Once you were just a foot away, you stabbed the corpse's head once more with your cane's pointed base— the force harsh enough to splatter the livor mortis flesh and brain matter on the floor of his beloved laboratory.

What an unnecessarily extreme scene, befitting of your old title.

"I grow tired of your games, Zandik." You spat back. "Must you constantly send your men to make futile attempts to lace my food with your de-aging concoction? I don't appreciate discarding their bodies— much less some perfectly fine meals."

If Capitano were here, he would've made a vague comment about how your value on human life is concerning.

But he doesn't have to know about this interaction.

"You complain about my work, yet I vaguely recall an era in your life in which you'd routinely wake up screaming like a rooster in the morning." Dottore shrugged and pointed to himself. "And who provided you with a cure-all for those night terrors? Go on. I would be enthused to know."

You crossed your arms. The jaded look in your eyes heightened his interest. Hence, Dottore stood up, his footsteps crunching the shattered glass strewn about.

"Let me wager a proper hypothesis for this ...irrational behavior. A possible psychological or existential leaning toward death may be at the root of the patient's ongoing resistance to the recommended treatment." He craned his head like a bird inspecting its prey. "In simpler terms for meager minds like yours to understand: you're not accepting my charity since you wish to die. Is that right?" 

Dottore is a reasonable man. Disarmingly charming, even.

This particular segment just hates you.

You smiled back, returning the same malice.

"Who knows?" You tapped the beak of his mask. "Doesn't matter. I didn't come here to get psycho-analyzed. I came here because I want to strike a deal."

Dottore paused.

"I had a prediction that you would ensnare me with a gambit. No small wonder that Omega has found you a captivating individual, (Y/n)."

Many miss the fact that the good Doctor has a "seductive" air about him. He has a charisma that people will either dismiss in fear or fall victim to. You're part of the secret third group— the coworkers immune to his antics.

"Yes, well, I do pride myself on hosting the best picnics by the meadows of Ardravi Valley." You spoke, voice oozing with the same playful banter you once reserved for his deceased copy. "I've got no abundance in lifespan like you. I'd dare say I'm selling myself at a very limited-time offer."

However, this Dottore was not the one you befriended. This was his murderer.

"Playing the card of wisdom with that appearance may fool the world, but you can't dissuade me." Dottore clicked his tongue. "Are you mimicking Sohreh?"

What a surprisingly plain question.

You shrugged. "Am I?"

Feigning impassivity while he could, the Doctor placed a hand on your shoulder.

"Talk."

"I've only one wish, which is for you to stop being such a nuisance." You scoffed. "What can I do to get you to stop trying to make me your side experiment, Doctor?"

Intuition rarely fails you. You knew that this was a matter that could be reasoned with. The problem is that you needed to figure out what your bargaining chip would be. But by the look on his face, he had already sorted that out minutes, maybe even months, before you arrived.

His hand that once hovered on your shoulder slowly snaked towards your neck.

"I have a proposal," Dottore spoke softly.

You hardened your expression. "Spill."

"I can assist you in experiencing that honorable death you craved so much— at the right time and place." Using his thumb, he applied mild pressure against your throat. "However, I'll need you to befriend the upcoming tourists in Natlan."

You blinked.

… What a strange request.

"Befriend… The tourists?" You grabbed his intrusive hand, yanking it away. "What are you on about?"

"Under favorable circumstances, I would have had a copy extract these, but the old conventional tools are unavailable."

"But why?" You raised an eyebrow. "Dear, I just can't quite wrap my head around why this is the gamble you're betting your chips on—"

"And that is precisely why The Tsaritsa dubbed you La Ruffiana and not a respectable title," Dottore smirked, chuckling lowly. "Hence, I'll gladly elucidate you with brief guide questions in a language you're sure to comprehend."

"I'd rather we both save time by revealing the answer, pronto."

Since you had forgotten to let go of his wrist, he used your grip to pull you closer to him.

"Tell me, (Y/n), during the Sumeru fiasco…" With faces just inches away from each other, he tilted and teased your ear with his breath. "Who, indeed, served as the paramount subject in my quest to engineer a being that transcends even the might of the archons?"

… Who?

You placed a hand on his chin to create a respectable distance. "Child, I really hate to say this, but the world doesn't just spin around you and your little experiments. I wouldn't know a thing about that poor, nameless puppet you're on about. But if I had to take a wild guess, you're talking about that man you went and turned into a sorry excuse for an All-Knowing God, aren't you?"

Dottore grinned, baring his sharp teeth.

"I perceive that our memories from that period have been tampered with. Nevertheless, your hypothesis remains merely superficial. There exists an individual whom I regard as the genuine subject of this experiment. Would you toss one last conjecture?"

…

You let out a strangled air, unable to properly articulate your disbelief.

It's the traveler. Of course, it's her.

Dottore aspires to transform humans into gods, yet his attempts have thus far been in vain. Save for one young woman who sought refuge in both Mondstadt and Sumeru, all subjects have perished during testing. In your days as a harbinger, you've watched others toil over the vulneraries and prosthetics the Doctor would jam into them. Your visit to certain hospitals by the desert is your testimony to his apathy. He is driven by relentless curiosity, never pausing for the ethical implications of his research, but would spend hours on the feasibility of his experiments.

You were relieved when you heard he used an inorganic lifeform in his last experiment. But if that was a mere dud, then…

"Don't tell me— all this time, your real goal revolved around how the traveler could ascend into Godhood?" You gawked. "So whatever that puppet was, is nothing more than a self-fulfilling prophecy in failure? Your experiments in blasphemy will always find new ways to make me utterly sick."

You flinched as Dottore caressed your cheek. It wasn't the contact that shocked you.

It was the respect in his eyes.

"Hmm... About a year ago, you'd make conscious efforts to bite your tongue. I must remark that I am fascinated with the concerning spike of confidence your senile age brings."

"Things change." You mocked him. "You should try growing older. About a year ago, I wouldn't have this deal with you, too."

With that, the verbal contract was set into motion.

"We'll keep in touch."

He pulled away.

You scoffed. "If I believed in Celestia, I would've prayed you'd become a decent person."

"How unfortunate that you'll need a stronger God to achieve that ambition," Dottore laughed. "And materializing a stronger God is precisely part of my current objectives."

This heretic.

"I see now why you and Capitano are far too different to be colleagues."

You glared.

"Have your glory. You may receive everything— the ego in victory— the spoils of war. Celestia may even watch you steal the blessings of ascension. But you have no honor. You live with no happiness."

You grumbled while you walked away. The erratic sound of your cane reflected the rhythm of your anger and disgust. Before you left, you gave him one high note to end on.

"You dance with no music."

As soon as you were out of the vicinity, Dottore quickly returned to his near-incoherent scrawling.

"I'd rather be a fool who performs for no one," he grinned, his stomach tucking in from stifled laughter. "Than a blabbering grandmother scared of sugar pills."

"(Y/N)!!!"

Upon your supposedly quiet return to the inn, you were greeted by a pair of large hands squeezing your cheeks with trembling worry.

"I told you to call me Granny—"

"Where have you been?!" He tilted your head, inspecting for wounds like an incompetent father. His strength would usually cause grief, but you've grown used to this. It's a sensation that's hard to hate.

His hands are rough but not unkind.

"When I awoke, I realized you were not in your room." He spoke, evident that he was reeling himself from rambling. Been a long while since you saw his long and gorgeous hair this messy. "Had I not instructed you not to wander alone without one of our men at your side."

The inn's staff whispered among themselves while his men stiffly avoided gazing at you two. You cringe at everyone's bloodshot eyes. There's more room to pity the Natlan locals— they didn't ask to be involved. Capitano ordered a search party this late on your behalf when there was zero need for it. The attention was getting embarrassing.

You should've known that he'd notice your absence.

Damn it. You were barely gone for half an hour.

"Steel yourself, child. I don't need your men to coddle me." Months have passed, and he has yet to accept that you do not have a respectable position as a personal assistant. "I can wander around Natlan as safe as I please, kid. Are you seriously doubting my strength?"

That dirty tactic sobered him up.

"You know that isn't so." Capitano sighed, letting you go. "I know you're plenty capable, however..."

"Need I remind you that before the incident, I was originally the Harbinger tasked with retrieving the pyro gnosis?" You shook your head, feigning disappointment. "You should know by now that I've studied this place's typography and wildlife. No encounter could shock and harm me— even with these old bones."

"It's precisely why I worry over you," Capitano glared slightly. "With your curse, you could've been marked by foes out there."

"I didn't go anywhere far. I was just sightseeing."

"That explanation doesn't wash. I saw the glow of a portable waypoint when you came back."

… How observant. That's the first ranked harbinger for ya, you supposed.

"Okay, maybe I went home for a bit, so what?" You pouted. "It's a bit too warm in here for my liking."

The inn's staff immediately froze up.

"N-Not that it's bad, of course!" You laughed nervously. Ah, shit, let's not involve them. "It's my fault 'cause I didn't raise that concern with them. Old ladies such as myself are so stubborn. Hmm, hmm!"

Gradually, Capitano relaxed.

"I understand. At least, I'll choose to understand your fib for now."

"Not quite out of the cage yet, am I?" You joked.

"Not at all." Capitano exhaled softly, a hand barely covering his gentle smile. His voice made it painfully apparent that you're off the hook.

He's such a terrible liar.

Before you could comment on this, Capitano reached out his hand.

"Come with me." He wagged his fingers towards him, beckoning you to come closer. "Let's continue our conversation somewhere private."

Out of the 11 harbingers and those who had come and gone, you know Capitano the most.

"I didn't realize Natlan nights can be cold." You spoke thoughtlessly.

He stared at you blankly. "Cold enough to prevent you from running back home, clearly."

"Ah."

And likewise, he knows you best as well.

You digressed in an instant. "Why did you bring me here, Little Captain?"

You stood by a cliff, staring at the quiet night in the humble town. There's a noticeable increase of guards on patrol since the Fatui arrived in Natlan, but with Capitano as the lead, you saw no reason for their alarm. Obviously, Capitano didn't bring you here to make that observation. Judging from how his stare is on the ground and not the beautiful sight, public perception is pushed at the back of his mind.

"Your cane…" He whispered.

"What about it?"

"You forgot to wash the blood away."

Inspecting the cane without lifting it, you realize what he meant.

"Oh."

"Who was it?" His voice sounded a bit more stern.

Your eyebrows furrowed. "Who was what?"

There was a shift in the air.

"Who attacked you?"

…

You laughed uncontrollably.

"W-What?! Pfft— puh-lease! No one attacked me." You poked his helmet. He stared you down, unamused. "No-bo-dy."

Capitano has yet to let his anger go. He spoke steadily, but he wasn't fooling you. "I'll ask once more: who attacked you?"

"Don't tell me your memory is worse than this old lady's," you clicked your tongue. "I just told you, it's nobody."

Capitano shifted his foot down slightly. "Elena reported that you were assaulting a fatuus with your cane in an isolated dining area."

Curses. You thought you were alone. To be caught by Elena, of all people? Your senses must be dulling.

"Well, one of your men— I suppose— was disrespecting their elders."

"I ordered a headcount. None of my men have gone missing." Capitano crossed his arms. "Besides, they know better than aggravating my most prized assistant."

Should've known that lie won't fly.

"Okay, maybe it wasn't one of your men." Obviously it was Dottore's, but you bit your tongue. "But you should know I'm a polarizing figure in the Fatui. I heard someone say that getting rid of me is a noble act cause they'd be removing your right from employing an absolute loser."

"(Y/n), where did you get those ideas?"

Honestly? Straight out of your 'lovely' imagination. If not inspired by Pantalone's past remarks as well— just cruder.

It’s almost commendable how easy it is to assume everyone is out to get you. The work environment certainly helps. A strange grin or remark is sufficient to validate any doubts. Probably illogical for you to live life this way. You're aware enough that not every whisper is about you and that not every grin hides some hidden agenda, yet the uncertainties still seep in so effortlessly that it almost seems like breathing.

You've yet to find someone who will prove your inherent distrust wrong. That body you hurled at Dottore earlier was no exception.

"Whoever attacked me doesn't matter; I got rid of them."

"I know you did. I don't reserve any doubt whatsoever. That is not the issue at hand." Capitano shook his head, his last words hiding a slight growl. "What I am perturbed by is how you had hidden this from me."

Your eyes widened.

"I-I'm sorry, forgive me, Capitano." You fumbled. "It was genuinely not as big as you think it is. A traitor was in the mist, and I took care of it."

"You were targeted, (Y/n)," Capitano said, nearly whispering as he gently took your hands. No matter how callous he was or how much his skin resembled etched maps, they held yours with great care.

His eyelids drooped slightly, hiding unspoken grief. "You were attacked when I made an oath that I would protect you while you are under my care..."

Capitano's tone softened further, almost withdrawn from hurt.

"I should have been there..."

You've never been one to immediately process emotions in a snap. When you and Capitano share ideas, theories intersect like constellations on Teyvat nights. But that look in his eye? You can't read what he's thinking.

"Why do you fret over it, dearie? Death is but a doorbell away for me." You hummed with a wide smile. "I'll be claimed soon enough. Maybe tonight might even be the night. Oh, honey, it's no skin off the Tsaritsa's back if an old gal like me bites the dust."

…

You have a feeling you said the worst thing imaginable at that moment.

…

Capitano said nothing.

In fact, you'd wager that was on purpose.

There's a glint in his eye. A look that you couldn't place— a dangerous thought you can't hear. It ringed endlessly in his ears, and the slight tremor in his fingertips proved it. His blue eyes stared straight into your soul.

A revelation. An epiphany. A newfound raison d'etre that he refused to let anyone know— you specifically.

Something about him drastically changed.

But that look vanished in an instant.

Capitano's mouth curled upward.

The smile did not reach his eyes. 

"I prefer if it's kind sleep who takes you tonight," Capitano muttered. "Death is far too early for a woman like you."

"A woman like me?" You chuckled. "You meant grandmother, right? And what do you mean by that?"

"A woman like you deserves all the time in the world, not to be taken prematurely. Your spirit is far too bright to be dimmed so soon." He took off his cloak. "Because a woman like you is a woman loved by many."

Capitano wrapped his cloak around you before you realized it. As you looked down, you noticed how much larger his frame was than yours. The cloak reached the floor when you donned it. Though it was night, the cologne he put on reminded you of sun-drenched clothes and steel— but it's possible that this was just Capitano's natural scent.

"I should add cloaks as an interest for your late birthday present." You could practically hear the smile on his face as he said, "It suits you."

Something about the way he sounded was way off now.

The weariness from your conversations with Dottore seemingly washed away. You grabbed a fistful of the cloak and raised it. "I think every tailor in Teyvat would beg to differ."

Capitano chuckled. "Respectfully, they wouldn't know any better."

"And you do?" You raised an eyebrow, but that grin on your face is too difficult to wipe off. "I don't think you know me well, little Captain."

You continued.

"Anyone can learn to like me, but to love me…"

Is devastating.

You trailed off, eyes back on the quiet streets. You've always admired those who teased on the edge of retirement and eternal sleep, their bravery surpassing the young's. They act on reckless abandon, unburdened by the opinions of others. Alice saw this in you, and she knew— deep in her heart— that she'd be more than willing to help you embrace that freedom in whatever form that may take.

Since you became a "grandmother", seemingly everything and nothing has changed. You've pushed away those who pretended to care, only to find that no soul can stand to be with you. Maybe it was a glorious boon or just as the witch said— a desperate cry for help, nothing more. The experience so far taught you things you already knew you hated about yourself that you wondered if this were all for the sake of mastery. Have you destroyed yourself for nothing? Who knows. But you'll continue to take solace that maybe, just maybe, death may end the loneliness you've endured for so long.

But if you so badly chase for death…

"████████."

You looked at him.

"Can I ask for a favor?"

You're going to do it right.

Taglist: @macaronilovingracoon, @lucienbarkbark, @meimeimeirin, @notthefib987, @meowmeowakutagawa

[shalomniscient]

i need kafhime to take turns in fucking me until i can’t think of anything but their cocks/straps pounding into me😞

[nsft utc]

himeko is normally a lot gentler. sweeter. she prefers to take it slow, to dot kisses like constellations on your soft skin as she slowly coaxes you open around her strap. she likes watching you accomodate, the pleased flutter of your lashes as pleasure blooms through your limbs like a rosy dawn. she likes a more languid pace, trading speed for depth, ensuring the tip of her strap kisses the spot right below your cervix with every drive. himeko likes to kiss you as you moan and mewl for her, your legs wrapped around her waist as you clutch onto her broad shoulders. she likes to be gentle with you, to treat you with the reverence you deserve.

himeko usually likes to go slow—until kafka shows up.

the stellaron hunter has an uncanny ability to slither beneath himeko’s skin, especially with how ruthlessly she fucks you. kafka is the antithesis of everything himeko is; kafka likes to go fast and go hard. kafka doesn’t wait for you to get used to the size of her thick strap, setting an unforgiving pace right from the start and delighting in the way you scream for her. kafka doesn’t cradle you in her arms and call you sweet things, she pushes your head down into the mattress with one hand and lifts your hips with the other while she calls you her darling, filthy little whore.

and you like it.

himeko knows you like how she fucks you too—she’s made you squirt just like kafka has, made you brainless on her cock like kafka has, but something about the hunter’s stupid smug smirk as makes you see stars has himeko’s blood boiling. hence why she now has you on all fours on the bed as she fucks into you with harsh thrusts, all while kafka watches on from the side of the bed, amused.

“go harder, ‘meko,” she croons, gloved fingers reaching out to caress your cheek, “she can take it.” you pant and moan against the hunter’s hand, and himeko scowls as she drives in particularly hard on the next thrust, earning a pleased cry from your lips.

“don’t tell me what to do,” she huffs, and kafka laughs, unbothered by himeko’s sharp tone. her eyes settle down on you instead, at the way your arms tremble from the effort of holding yourself up as himeko fills you over and over again. kafka kneels on the bed before you, the deep burgundy of her own strap stark against her milky skin. it’s shiny in the low light, covered in the slick of your previous orgasm that she had wrung out of you with nothing short of a virtuoso’s touch. she tilts your chin up, barely supressing a shiver of pure lust as she notes the nearly fucked-out look in your eyes. she rests the tip of her cock on your cheek, idly shifting her hips to drag the tip from your cheekbone to the corner of your mouth, smearing your face with your own cum like some poor imitation of a caress. you shiver at the act, pussy squeezing around himeko’s strap, and the navigator sucks in a breath as she notes the way more pearls of your gossamer slick drip out of you to coat the base of her strap.

“say, himeko,” kafka asks casually, her thumb swiping over your lips before slipping inside to press on your tongue, “how about a little competition? let’s see who’s really the best at making our pretty girl cum herself stupid.”

you moan around kafka’s finger as you suck on it, and himeko chews the inside of her cheek. she’s half tempted to refuse; she doesn’t need to prove herself to kafka at all, she knows that, but there’s a competitive streak that burns deep within her and it has her agreeing maybe a little too fast. in any case, it’ll be enjoyable regardless, in the end. and if she does in fact ‘win’ this little competition, she gets the added bonus of rubbing it in kafka’s face.

“fine,” she says, almost petulantly, and kafka grins. “but no spirit whisper.”

kafka rolls her eyes and leans back on the bed, fingers winding in your hair to guide your lips to the tip of her cock. “don’t worry little miss navigator, i won’t need it.” her gaze flicks down to you, dark and dangerous as you slowly take her strap into your mouth. “isn’t that right, pretty girl?”

kafka and himeko take turns fucking your cunt and your mouth, until your brain turns to mush in your skull. kafka pulls you up as she fucks you from behind, her fingers playing your stiff clit like she plays her violin. then himeko has you ride her strap, coaxing you up and down its length as she presses her hand flat against the bulge in your tummy. it goes on and ok until at one point, kafka is balls deep inside you while himeko braces your body from behind, her fingers toying with your kiss-swollen nipples when your safeword falls from your lips in between stuttering gasps of air. kafka stills immediately, and himeko’s hands go to your waist, petting you soothingly. despite their competitive streak, they treat you as if you’re made of porcelain now. kafka even whispers a few sweet words into your ear as you lay down in himeko’s arms. it doesn’t take long for you to drift off, tired as you are.

it’s such a shame their competition ended in a tie. but that’s fine; you’ll happily agree to have a do-over later so they can finally crown a winner, won’t you?

[classypauli]

𝑫𝑶𝑪𝑻𝑶𝑹’𝑺 𝑻𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑴𝑬𝑵𝑻

Part 2

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x fem!Reader

Summary: After so long Tara finally meets you again... only this time a little drunk.

Word count: 3k

It has now been a couple of weeks since visiting the hospital. People would think that Tara has already forgotten about what happened but the opposite is true. In those weeks there wasn´t a day she would not think about you. Her mind was repeating what happened and everytime a smile grew on her face. Mindy and Chad started to make fun of her, saying she looked like a kid first time having a crush. She doesn´t care.

Tara wanted to see you, so badly. She started thinking about how to get to see you again, like she would play another attack and go to the hospital, which to be honest was too cruel, or she would just go there and act like she had some examination and suddenly she saw you start to talk with you, then you would ask her to go on a date with her, you would start dating and-

God, she needs to stop. Young Carpenter sighed and put her head on the table. The voice of her professor was muted in her ears, today she felt like sleeping, just laying in her bed all day doing nothing. It was friday and she promised to go to some party. Mindy has been talking about it forever.

„Mindy I´m not in a mood right now.“ The girl turned her forehead against the table.

„I didn´t even say anything!“ Mindy scanned the shorter girl, looking for any signs of sickness. „You don´t feel good?“ she asked now with a normal tone. Tara shook her head.

„Well then we should probably call some doctor, who knows, maybe they will help you.“ Tara punched the girl beside her, making an angry noise from being teased on.

„Who does he think he is?!“ Tara was angry. They were currently at the party Mindy talked about. Everything was fine at first, everyone was minding their business, and they danced and drank, talked and joked around. It was so much fun.

But that fun soon disturbed that idiot Frankie. He was being himself of course and was trying to get with every girl there, including Tara. But the girl wasn´t in the mood for his stupid games. At first, she ignored him but as soon as he was touchy and started grabbing her to go upstairs, she became furious.

She yelled at him so hard the boy even flinched, wasn´t expecting this behavior from a sweet girl like Tara. Yeah, like she was some easy prey. He then became angry and embarrassed but knowing a lot of people were around him he couldn´t do anything.

„He is a prick Tara forget about him.“ Mindy was standing beside her watching as her friend was getting more alcohol into her cup. Tara wasn´t really drunk, yet at least. And after this incident, she just wanted to get alcohol into her system to forget about his ugly ass face.

„Like...“ the short girl let out and furious sigh out of her lips. „he is such a fucking idiot I´m surprised no girl has punched him yet.“ Tara shook her head at the bitter taste as the alcohol touched her tongue. Maybe she will be first.

„Oh! And on top of that-“

„Tara.“ Mindy said from her side but she only continued, she didn´t even notice the hand of her on her right shoulder.

„-he even-„

„Tara.“ Mindy said a little louder through the loud music that was playing in the house.

„Fuck Mindy what!“ Tara looked at her friend, raising her voice a little. She wasn´t angry at her, of course not and Mindy also knew that, but Tara had a short temper.

„Apollo at 9 o´clock.“

Tara turned pale. Her eyes widen and her body becomes stiff. She felt like she had forgotten how to breathe. What did she say? No, that can´t be. The only person they were calling Apollo was...

„Tara fucking turn around.“ Mindy said between her clenched teeth as she kept looking at the way she told her to look at.

Tara took a big breath trying to calm her beating heart and shot her eyes to the left. There was a group of friends chatting and laughing, they had beers and cups in their hands as they were standing by the side of the room so as not to disturb anybody.

She scanned the group and suddenly saw the familiar figure she had been so desperate to find these past weeks. You were standing there in your civil clothes and cup in your hand. Your bright smile could be seen from every spot of the room, smiling at your friends as you were talking about something, sipping on your drink.

„Tell me I´m not crazy.“ Tara´s eyes kept looking at you as if she was afraid you would disappear again. Her chest kept rising and falling at a fast speed.

„No Tara, you´re definitely not.“ Mindy may only see you from a photo but this was definitely you. You looked far better in a person than in a photo, she must tell.

The young Carpenter turned to Mindy with wide eyes and eyebrows raised. „Oh my God! Oh my God! What do I do?!“ she quickly looked at her clothes if they looked fine. „Do I look good? I don´t have anything between my teeth?“ she smiled widely showing her teeth Mindy to check.

„Stop Tara! Calm down.“ Mindy took her shoulders to make her look at her. „Okay okay stop right now. No, you don´t have anything between your teeth. You´re fine.“

Deep and slow breaths were the next thing she needed to do or she would have another attack and that would be pretty embarrassing. It was just you. Yeah, just the cute doctor who took care of her at the hospital. Yes, only you, as if you were someone special-

Of course, you were special! To her! She wanted to impress you so badly. The girl was always thinking about the ways she would meet you again, what would she say to you, what would she be wearing, and how she would impress you... She looked like a garbage at the moment.

Today Tara didn´t give a fuck about what would her clothes be or how she would style her hair. She just wanted to have a little fun from studying and enjoy the night with her friends.

She looked at your way one more time and your eyes met. You squint your eyes at the girl as if you were trying to remember something. She quickly turned her head to Mindy, a scared look swimming in her eyes.

„Mindy. She saw me.“

„And now she´s making her way here.“

„No, that can´t be real.“

„Oh yes, it is.“

„No no no no.“ Tara shook her head to left and right trying to put herself together. She wasn´t ready to face you. This is not how she imagined your second meeting.

„Hi.“ Mindy looked at you and greeted you back. She took Tara again by her shoulders and turned her to you.

„Hi.“ The short girl said as she was now looking at your pretty eyes. You were smiling at her like you were the first time you saw each other.

„I´m sorry I didn´t wanna disturb but... I think I know you.“ You now lowered your eyebrows a bit and kept scanning Tara´s face.

What? Do you know her? Oh my God, you remember! The girl´s heart started beating in her chest as she now realized that. You wouldn´t remember if she didn´t catch your attention, right? Right?!

„Uhm... I-“

„Oh! I know! You were in a hospital! I knew you were familiar.“ You smiled widely at her, you looked happy that you could remember after all a lot of people came through your hands every day.

Tara breathed out as she looked down. „Yeah,“ she laughed „you got me.“

„Oh, you okay now? You had any complications after?“ You kept asking her as you scanned her face and body, not in a disgusting way. But let´s be honest, Tara wouldn´t mind that either.

The shorter girl smiled softly, playing with her hands as she was softly swaying her body to the sides like a small child. „No no, everything has been fine since then.“ She smiled shyly at you. „Thanks again.“. You just shook your head like she had nothing to thank for. You were just too sweet.

Mindy offered you and your group to be with them and after the introduction, some went to drink more in the kitchen or went to the dance floor. The three of you along with some of your friends were sitting on a couch in a living room with drinks in your hands, talking and laughing at others' dancing skills.

You were so friendly and your friends too, Tara was looking at you the whole time, listening carefully every time you started speaking so none of the words could slip her. The Carpenter didn´t even notice how much alcohol she drank, guess it was because of the stress from your presence but as soon as she stood up, she could feel everything.

Oh no. Her mind was now spinning, „I´m going to the toilet.“ Mindy offered to go with her as she saw her friend's face. She was drunk.

„Oh my God, Mindy.“ These were the first words that left her mouth as she saw herself in a mirror. Her eyes were down and her face was all sweaty from the hot room and alcohol. Tara touched her cheek at the state and turned around to her friend. „I can´t go back looking like this.“ Her mind was spinning and she barely could control her legs. „I´m so fucked up.“

Mindy was behind her smirking, leaning against the bathroom door, clearly dunk as well. „Tomorrow morning will be fun.“ She laughed to herself, eyes closed from the sharp light of the bathroom.

„Hey! Are you even listening to me?“ Tara went to her but stumbled a little. Mindy laughed at her clumsy friend. She wasn´t as drunk as Tara, she could still walk normally. The only thing she was more giggling than usual.

„Come on, it´s fine. Or do you wanna leave Y/N?“ Mindy asked Tara. „Did you forget about how you were these couple of weeks?“.

Right. She can´t do that. She needs to get your number, at least that. They went to the group again but with each step they took the alcohol in their system could be felt more and more. Tara was now so drunk that she laughed at everything she saw. The girl sat beside you again but this time a little more closer than she was before, you turned to her and smiled at her. She giggled at you as she tilted her head a little.

You could see her cheeks were red and her eyes had fallen a little. Every time she was speaking her voice was really loud and her hands were everywhere around the place, even almost smacked you but you were quick to dodge it. Yep, she was drunk.

Tara´s mobile kept vibrating a couple of times but she only ignored that. It was Sam, she was worried about her because they agreed that Tara would inform her every now and then that everything was fine. The first time you caught the notification you wanted to warn Tara about it but then you saw it.

On her wallpaper was your photo from the hospital, the one with all of your colleagues. The photo was zoomed on your smiling figure, it was so cute you wanted to laugh but you couldn´t. You didn´t want to embarrass her so you played like you didn´t see that.

„So...“ Tara hiccuped as she leaned her hand on the back of the couch behind your head. You raised your eyebrows at her as you were trying to hide the smile from how drunk and cute at the same time she was. „How old are you?“ she kept looking into your eyes as if she was trying to seduce you but was cut by a hiccup again.

Laughing at her now you answered her question. „How old do I look?“

„I don´t know, you look really young to be a doctor. You are a doctor? Or you are a student? How old are you?“ Tara squints her eyes at you. You let out a laugh as you threw your head back at her words, closing your eyes in the process.

Tara was drunk smiling at you, showing her dimples. She didn´t know why you were laughing but it was because of her so she didn´t mind. In her head it meant victory. You wiped your unexisting tears and shook your head. „You are so drunk.“

„No, I´m not! Look I can drink more!“ she went to grab a cup that was on the table in front of the couch but you were quick to take it from her hand.

„Absolutely not, you had too much already.“ Tara wanted to argue with you about it but her thoughts were cut by your touch.

„You have really pretty hands. They are much bigger than mine, look!“ she compared your hands and yes, hers were really small.

„And your fingers are so long... I wonder how it would feel inside of-“

Mindy covered her friend's mouth from beside her. She kept listening to your conversation the whole time, making sure Tara wouldn´t say or do something she would be embarrassed about the next day. Something like this.

„Okay, I think we should head home.“ Mindy wanted to pull Tara on her legs but she didn´t want to stand up and leave you. She kept pouting as she sat a little more closer to you almost sitting at your tights.

„Come on, I will go with you.“ You stood up and gently took her hands to help her on her legs. She smiled like a kid and immediately did what you wanted her to do.

 You and Mindy were taking Tara to her home. Sam was now calling Mindy asking about her sister. She had the right to be mad, she let her go to a party under the condition of her texting her if she was alright.

As you were close to the apartment door Mindy left you two so you could be alone. Tara won´t remember it but Mindy for sure will and she will make sure her friend will pay back for this.

„We are already here.“ Tara whined and turned around to look at you as you now stood in front of her door. „I don´t wanna leave you, I wanna be with you.“ The girl hugged your neck as she put her head on your chest to stare into your eyes.

You laughed at her. „Don´t worry, I´m sure we will see each other again.“

„Do you wanna come inside?“ she smirked and dragged her finger around your shoulder, tilting her head to the side softly. The young Carpenter had clearly enough for today.

„You know I can´t Tara.“ You breathe out with a kind smile on your lips.

„I love it when you call my name, it sounds so different, and also your smile and your eyes and-“

The door from her home suddenly opened and there stood Sam. The three of you kept looking at each other shocked written on your faces, waiting till someone made the first move.

„Uhm... hey I´m Y/N, I don´t know if you remember me.“ You smiled kindly at Tara´s sister. She kept studying you a little, then it hit her. Yeah, you were the one from the hospital. You helped Tara and that was all she needed to know.

„Yeah, I remember.“ She then looked at her sister, slowly shaking her head. Tara´s arms were still around you, not caring that her sister could see everything. „Come on Tara.“

The short girl let out a whine not wanting to let you go. She tightened her grip on you and was now looking at you to save her from her angry sister. „You need to let go of me.“ Your voice was so soft, it was only convincing her to stay but your words said otherwise and she needed to listen to you.

Slowly pulling away from and with a point on her lips, eyes big as if you were saying that you will never see her again. You didn´t even leave and she missed you already. The girl just wanted to stay with you.

„Will I see you again?“ Tara asked as she was almost at her apartment looking for your answer. You nodded your head at her, shooting her one of your smiles with a wink.

„Okay... Goodnight.“ She said with a low voice, putting her head down and leaving you in a hallway. Sam turned to you and gave you a tight-lipped smile.

„Thanks for bringing her here.“

„It´s fine, she´s amazing.“ You looked from the way she disappeared to Sam. „I guess I will head home also. Goodnight.“ You waved at her and started to walk away.

The next morning couldn´t be worse. Tara woke up with a terrible headache and the urge to throw up, Sam was giving her silent treatment, Mindy kept teasing her about yesterday and she had no way of contacting you. Like she would do that, the girl was so embarrassed that she just wanted to bury herself deep into the ground.

Afternoon Mindy and Chad came, and they kept making fun of Tara and her flirting skills. Suddenly her phone rang signaling a new message.

Y/N:) :Heyy, hope you feel better

What? How did you get her number? It was really you?

„Mindy? How did you get Y/N´s contact into my phone?“ Her friend looked at her with a confused face. „Did you give her my number?“ Mindy shook her head, still looking muddled.

„Maybe she did it herself.“ She shrugged her shoulders. „At least you have her number finally!“

Yeah, at least something but when did you make it? Oh yeah, she probably left her phone on the couch when she went to the bathroom. But if you got your phone number into her phone that must mean...

„Oh God... please no.“ She put her head into her hands, covering her red face from embarrassment.

You saw that fucking wallpaper.

Taglist: @jensortega813 @isawxxp 🤍

[bratzkoo]

still the one | joshua hong

Author: bratzkoo Pairing: exes! joshua x reader Genre: fluff, semi-angst Rating: PG-15 Word count: 4.8k~ Warnings/note: i just want joshua to do something very loser of him just to get his ex back.

summary: 5 years after your break up, Joshua tries his best to get your attention. May it be creating a new instagram to get you to notice him, making your brother (Seungkwan) secretly invite him to his birthday party, and his latest act: begging you on his knees in front of your door to get him back. He just never gives up!

taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): @escoupseu , @yanabaaaaaaarysheva , @spnyin , @sousydive

requests are open, but you can just say hi! | masterlist

You didn’t really see it coming.

The autumn breeze carried a hint of crisp possibility as you walked through the park, fallen leaves crunching satisfyingly beneath your feet. Life was good – you had a successful career that challenged and fulfilled you, a cozy apartment in the heart of the city, and a circle of friends who filled your days with laughter and your nights with adventure.

As you strolled along the winding path, you couldn't help but smile at the scenes around you. Couples walked hand in hand, their heads bent close in conversation. Families spread out on checkered blankets, enjoying impromptu picnics in the fading warmth of the season. A group of friends tossed a frisbee, their shouts and laughter carrying on the wind.

You paused for a moment, tilting your face up to catch the last rays of the setting sun. Contentment washed over you, a feeling of being exactly where you were meant to be. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, likely Ranee confirming plans for your weekly wine and movie night. Life had fallen into a comfortable rhythm, one that you'd worked hard to create and maintain.

Little did you know that this carefully constructed peace was about to be shaken to its core. As you reached for your phone, you were blissfully unaware of the storm that was brewing, of the persistent force that was about to re-enter your life and turn everything upside down.

Somewhere across the city, Joshua Hong was steeling his nerves, his finger hovering over the 'Create Account' button on Instagram. He'd spent weeks crafting the perfect username, carefully selecting photos, and writing and rewriting his bio. Now, with a deep breath and a silent prayer, he was about to take the first step in his plan to win you back.

But for now, in this moment, you were simply enjoying the park, the autumn day, and the life you'd built for yourself. The future, with all its unexpected twists and turns, could wait.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, pulling you from your reverie. A notification from Instagram – a new follow request. Your breath caught as you read the username: J_Hong_1996. It couldn't be... could it?

With trembling fingers, you tapped on the profile. The photos were sparse, but unmistakable. Joshua, looking older but still achingly familiar, in various locations around the city. Your city. He was back.

For a moment, you considered hitting the 'Decline' button, shutting this unexpected door before it could fully open. But curiosity – or perhaps something deeper – made you hesitate. Before you could overthink it, you hit 'Accept', telling yourself it was just to see what he was up to.

Within minutes, your phone buzzed again. A direct message.

"(Y/N), I know it's been a long time, but I'm back in town. Can we talk?"

You stared at the message, a whirlwind of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. Anger at his presumption, hurt that still lingered after all these years, and underneath it all, a traitorous flicker of... what? Hope? Longing? You shook your head, banishing the thought.

Days passed, and more messages followed, each one a little more desperate than the last.

"I understand if you're angry. I just want a chance to explain."

"I've missed you every day for the past five years. Please, just five minutes of your time."

"I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I'm hoping you'll give me a chance to earn it."

You continued to ignore them, hoping he'd take the hint. But Joshua, it seemed, was nothing if not persistent.

A week after the first Instagram request, your brother Seungkwan called. His voice was suspiciously casual as he said, "Hey, sis! Just finalizing plans for my birthday party next weekend. You're coming, right?"

"Of course," you replied, a smile in your voice despite your turbulent thoughts. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Great!" Seungkwan said, a little too enthusiastically. There was a pause, and then, "Oh, and, uh, just so you know... Joshua might be there. He reached out, said he was back in town and wanted to reconnect with old friends. I hope that's okay?"

Your grip tightened on the phone, knuckles turning white. "Seungkwan," you said, your voice dangerously calm, "did he put you up to this?"

Your brother's guilty silence was all the answer you needed. You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. "It's fine. It's your party. Invite whoever you want."

As you ended the call, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were being maneuvered into a confrontation you weren't sure you were ready for.

The night of Seungkwan's party arrived, crisp and clear. You'd spent an embarrassing amount of time choosing your outfit – a sleek black dress that hugged your curves, paired with your favorite heels. You told yourself it was for your own confidence, not for any other reason.

The moment you stepped into the crowded apartment, you felt his presence. It was like a sixth sense, your body attuned to his proximity even after all these years. You scanned the room, your heart racing, but there was no sign of him.

For the first hour, you managed to avoid him, sticking close to your friends and keeping your eyes averted from the door. But as you stepped out onto the balcony for a breath of fresh air, you heard his voice behind you.

"(Y/N)."

You turned slowly, steeling yourself. And there he was. Joshua. Five years older, a touch of silver at his temples, but still devastatingly handsome. His eyes, those warm brown eyes that had once looked at you with such love, now held a mixture of hope and trepidation.

"Hello, Joshua," you said, proud of how steady your voice sounded.

He took a step closer, and you fought the urge to back away. "Thank you for not running away," he said softly. "I wasn't sure you'd even talk to me."

"I'm here for Seungkwan," you replied, perhaps a bit more sharply than necessary. "This isn't about you."

Joshua nodded, a flicker of hurt crossing his face. "I know. But I'm hoping... maybe we could talk? Just for a few minutes?"

You sighed, looking out over the city skyline. "What is there to talk about, Joshua? It's been five years. We've both moved on."

"Have we?" he asked, moving to stand beside you at the railing. "Because I haven't. Not really."

You turned to face him, anger bubbling up inside you. "And whose fault is that? You're the one who left, remember? You don't get to come back after five years and act like nothing's changed."

"I know," Joshua said, his voice thick with regret. "I know I hurt you, and I'm so sorry. I've regretted leaving every day for the past five years. You're all I think about, (Y/N). I made the biggest mistake of my life walking away from us, and I'm hoping... I'm hoping you'll give me a chance to make it right."

You shook your head, stepping away from him. "It's too late for that, Joshua. We can't go back."

As you walked away, leaving him alone on the balcony, you couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't over. You were right.

For weeks after the party, Joshua's attempts to reach you intensified. It started with flowers delivered to your office – a stunning bouquet of your favorite blooms. Your coworkers cooed and speculated, but you simply moved them to the break room, ignoring the card that bore his familiar handwriting.

Next came the letters. Handwritten pages that showed up in your mailbox, pouring out his heart, explaining his actions, and begging for another chance. You told yourself you were going to throw them away unread, but each night found you poring over his words, tears staining the pages.

Then there was the singing telegram – a mortifying experience that left your entire office buzzing with gossip. As the poor college student in a ridiculous costume belted out a heartfelt rendition of "your song," you wanted nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

Each gesture chipped away at your resolve, even as you tried to maintain your distance. You found yourself lying awake at night, memories of your time together playing on an endless loop. The good times – lazy Sunday mornings tangled in bed, surprise picnics in the park, the way he'd look at you like you were the only person in the world. But also the bad – the fights that grew more frequent towards the end, the distance that had grown between you, the day he'd walked out with nothing but a suitcase and a broken promise.

Your friends were divided on the issue. Ranee, ever the romantic, thought you should hear him out. "People change, (Y/N)," she'd say over wine and takeout. "Maybe he really has grown up. Don't you owe it to yourself to at least listen?"

But Jihoon, who'd seen you through the worst of the breakup, was adamantly against it. "He had his chance," he'd argue, eyes flashing with protective anger. "He doesn't get to waltz back in and disrupt your life just because he's decided he made a mistake."

You appreciated their concern, but in the end, you knew the decision had to be yours. And despite your best efforts to stay strong, to remember the pain he'd caused, you could feel your resolve weakening.

Then came the night that changed everything.

You were settling in for a quiet evening at home, a glass of wine in hand and your favorite movie queued up, when a commotion outside your apartment door caught your attention. Frowning, you muted the TV and approached cautiously, peering through the peephole.

Your heart nearly stopped at what you saw.

Joshua was on his knees in the hallway, a bouquet of your favorite flowers clutched in his hands. Tears streamed down his face as he looked up at your door, unaware that you were watching. His voice, muffled but clear, carried through the wood.

"(Y/N), please. I know you're in there. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I'm begging you to give me a chance."

You pressed your forehead against the door, closing your eyes as his words washed over you.

"I was stupid for letting you go, and I've spent every day since then regretting it. You're still the one for me, (Y/N). You've always been the one. I'll do anything to prove it to you. Please, just open the door."

Your hand hovered over the doorknob, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he must be able to hear it. Five years of hurt, of carefully rebuilding your life, warred against the undeniable pull you still felt towards him.

"I'm not giving up," Joshua continued, his voice cracking with emotion. "I'll stay here all night if I have to. I'll come back every day until you're ready to talk to me. Because I know, deep down, that we're meant to be together. Please, (Y/N). Just give me one more chance."

You leaned back against the wall, sliding down until you were sitting on the floor, knees pulled up to your chest. Memories flooded your mind – the day you met, your first kiss, the night he told you he loved you. But also the fights, the growing distance, the day he'd walked out. You'd worked so hard to move on, to build a life without him. Could you really risk opening that door again?

As if he could sense your indecision, Joshua's pleas grew more urgent. "I know I hurt you. I know I left you alone, and I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am for that. But being back here, being close to you again... it's made me realize that you're still the one for me. You always have been."

You found yourself standing, drawn to his voice like a magnet. Your hand reached for the doorknob of its own accord.

"I've tried to start again, to find somebody else," Joshua continued, unaware of your internal struggle. "But I can't get you out of my head. The memories, the things we said to each other... they're always there. I can't move on, (Y/N). Not without knowing I did everything I could to make things right between us."

With a shaky breath, you turned the knob. As you slowly opened the door, Joshua's eyes met yours, filled with a mixture of hope and fear. He scrambled to his feet, the flowers clutched tightly in his hand.

"You have five minutes," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "After that, if I tell you to leave, you go. And you don't come back. Understood?"

Joshua nodded eagerly, relief washing over his features. "Thank you, (Y/N). That's all I'm asking for. A chance to explain, to show you how much you mean to me."

You stepped aside, allowing him to enter. As he passed, his familiar scent – a mix of cologne and something uniquely him – enveloped you, bringing with it a rush of memories. You closed the door and turned to face him, arms crossed protectively over your chest.

"Talk," you said simply.

Joshua took a deep breath, setting the flowers on a nearby table. "First, I want to say how sorry I am. Not just for leaving, but for how I handled everything leading up to it. I was young and stupid and scared of the intensity of what I felt for you. Instead of talking to you about my fears, I pushed you away. I convinced myself that leaving was the right thing to do, that we'd both be better off. But I was wrong. So incredibly wrong."

You remained silent, watching him carefully. Joshua ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture you remembered all too well.

"These past five years have been... empty," he continued. "I threw myself into my work, traveled, tried to convince myself I was living this great, exciting life. But nothing felt right. Nothing felt like home. Because home was always with you, (Y/N)."

"Why now?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. "Why come back after all this time?"

Joshua's eyes met yours, filled with a sincerity that made your heart ache. "Because I finally realized what an idiot I'd been. Because the thought of going another day without you in my life was unbearable. I know I have no right to ask for your forgiveness, let alone a second chance. But I had to try. I couldn't live with myself if I didn't at least tell you how I feel."

You turned away, moving to the window to look out at the city lights. "And how do you feel, Joshua?"

You heard him step closer, though he didn't touch you. "I love you, (Y/N). I never stopped loving you. You're the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing on my mind before I go to sleep. Every good thing that happens, I want to share with you. Every bad day, I wish you were there to make it better. You're it for me. You're the one."

Tears pricked at your eyes, and you blinked them back furiously. "Love isn't always enough, Joshua. You proved that when you walked out five years ago."

"I know," he said softly. "But I've changed. I've grown up. I know now that love isn't just a feeling – it's a choice. And I choose you, (Y/N). I'll choose you every day for the rest of my life if you'll let me."

You turned to face him, taking in the earnest expression on his face, the love and hope shining in his eyes. "And what if I say no? What if I tell you to leave and never come back?"

Pain flashed across Joshua's features, but he stood his ground. "Then I'll respect your decision. It'll break my heart, but I'll go. Because more than anything, I want you to be happy. Even if that happiness doesn't include me."

His words hung in the air between you, heavy with promise and possibility. You found yourself at a crossroads, the path forward unclear. On one side lay the safety of the life you'd built without him – predictable, stable, but tinged with a loneliness you'd never quite been able to shake. On the other, the unknown – the risk of heartbreak, but also the potential for a love deeper and stronger than before.

"I can't..." you started, your voice breaking. You took a deep breath and tried again. "I can't just forget everything that happened, Joshua. The pain, the years of trying to move on... it's not that simple."

He nodded, understanding in his eyes. "I know. I'm not asking you to forget. I'm asking for a chance to make new memories, better ones. To show you every day how much you mean to me, how sorry I am for the pain I caused."

You closed your eyes, overwhelmed by the emotions coursing through you. When you opened them again, Joshua was still there, waiting patiently, hope etched in every line of his face.

"I can't promise you anything," you said finally. "I don't know if I can trust you again, or if I even want to try. But..." you paused, hardly believing the words about to leave your mouth, "I'm willing to listen. To take things slowly and see where they lead."

The smile that lit up Joshua's face was like the sun breaking through clouds. "That's more than I could have hoped for," he said softly. "Thank you, (Y/N). I promise you won't regret this."

As he turned to leave, pausing at the door to look back at you with eyes full of renewed determination, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were standing on the precipice of something monumental. Whether it was the beginning of a new chapter or the final closing of an old one remained to be seen. But one thing was certain – Joshua's persistence had finally broken through your defenses, and now, for better or worse, you were embarking on a journey neither of you could have anticipated.

The door closed behind him, and you sank onto your couch, emotions swirling within you. You picked up your phone, needing to talk to someone who could offer an outside perspective. Ranee answered on the second ring.

"Hey, what's up?" she asked, concern evident in her voice.

"I think I'm in trouble," you said, your voice shaky. "Joshua... he was just here. On his knees in the in the hallway," you continued, your voice barely above a whisper. "Begging me to give him another chance."

Ranee gasped. "Oh my god, (Y/N). What did you do?"

You closed your eyes, still hardly believing it yourself. "I... I let him in. We talked."

"And?" Ranee pressed, her voice a mixture of concern and excitement.

"And... I told him I'd be willing to listen. To take things slowly." You let out a shaky breath. "Ranee, what am I doing? Am I crazy for even considering this?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line. When Ranee spoke again, her voice was gentle. "You're not crazy, (Y/N). You're human. And whether you want to admit it or not, Joshua was a huge part of your life. It's natural to have conflicting feelings."

"But what if I'm making a huge mistake?" you asked, voicing the fear that had been gnawing at you since Joshua left. "What if he hurts me again?"

"That's always a risk in any relationship," Ranee pointed out. "But let me ask you this – do you think you'd regret it more if you gave him a chance and it didn't work out, or if you turned him away without ever knowing what could have been?"

Her question gave you pause. You thought about the past five years, about the life you'd built for yourself. It was a good life, comfortable and safe. But there had always been something missing, a void you'd never quite been able to fill.

"I don't know," you admitted. "I just... I'm scared, Ranee. I worked so hard to move on, to be okay without him. What if letting him back in undoes all of that?"

"Then you'll pick yourself up and move on again," Ranee said firmly. "But this time, you'll do it knowing you gave it your all. No what-ifs, no regrets."

After hanging up with Ranee, you sat in the quiet of your apartment, mulling over her words. Your eyes fell on the bouquet Joshua had brought, still sitting on the table where he'd left it. Despite everything, a small smile tugged at your lips. He'd remembered your favorite flowers after all these years.

Your phone buzzed with a text:

From Joshua: "Thank you again for giving me a chance to explain. I meant every word I said tonight. I'll wait as long as it takes. You're still the one, (Y/N). Always."

You stared at the message, your heart racing. Slowly, you typed out a reply:

To Joshua: "I meant what I said too. Slow. I need time to process all of this."

His response came almost immediately:

From Joshua: "Of course. We'll go at whatever pace you're comfortable with. I'm just grateful for the opportunity. Sleep well, (Y/N)."

As you got ready for bed that night, your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. Part of you was terrified of the vulnerability that came with opening your heart again. But another part, a part that had been dormant for far too long, felt a flicker of excitement at the possibility of reconnecting with Joshua.

The next few weeks were a delicate dance of tentative steps forward and cautious retreats. True to his word, Joshua respected your need for space, never pushing for more than you were ready to give. Your interactions started small – text messages exchanged throughout the day, brief phone calls that gradually grew longer.

Then came the coffee dates. The first one was awkward, both of you unsure of how to act around each other after so much time apart. But as the weeks went by, you found yourselves falling into a comfortable rhythm. You talked about your lives over the past five years – your career advancements, his travels, the lessons you'd both learned.

One afternoon, as you sat across from Joshua in your favorite café, he looked at you with an intensity that made your breath catch.

"What?" you asked, suddenly self-conscious.

He shook his head, a soft smile playing at his lips. "Nothing, I just... I can't believe I'm here with you. There were so many times over the past five years when I thought I'd lost this chance forever."

You felt a familiar pang in your chest – a mixture of old hurt and new hope. "Joshua..."

"I know," he said quickly. "I know we're taking things slow. And I respect that. I just want you to know how grateful I am for every moment I get to spend with you."

His sincerity was almost overwhelming. You found yourself reaching across the table, your hand covering his. It was the first time you'd initiated physical contact since he'd come back into your life, and you felt him tense in surprise before relaxing into your touch.

"I'm grateful too," you admitted softly. "I won't lie – there's still a part of me that's scared. That's waiting for the other shoe to drop. But... I'm glad we're doing this. Whatever 'this' is."

Joshua turned his hand over, interlacing his fingers with yours. "It's whatever you want it to be, (Y/N). I'm here for as long as you'll have me."

As the weeks turned into months, you found yourself slowly letting your guard down. The walls you'd built around your heart began to crumble, brick by brick. Joshua was patient, attentive, and consistently present in a way he hadn't been towards the end of your relationship five years ago.

But it wasn't all smooth sailing. There were moments of doubt, of old hurts resurfacing. Arguments where past grievances bubbled up, threatening to derail the progress you'd made. But unlike before, you both made a conscious effort to communicate, to work through your issues rather than letting them fester.

It was during one of these conversations, late one night as you walked through the park where you'd first met, that Joshua stopped suddenly, turning to face you.

"(Y/N)," he said, his voice serious. "I need you to know something."

You felt your heart rate quicken, a mix of anticipation and anxiety coursing through you. "What is it?"

Joshua took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "I know we've been taking things slow, and I respect that. But I want to be clear about where I stand. I love you. I'm in love with you. And if you'll have me, I want to spend the rest of my life proving that to you every single day."

You felt tears prick at your eyes, overwhelmed by the intensity of his words and the emotion behind them. For a moment, you were transported back in time – to the day he'd first told you he loved you, to all the dreams and plans you'd made together. But this time, instead of fear or doubt, you felt a sense of certainty wash over you.

"Joshua," you said softly, reaching up to cup his face in your hands. "I love you too. I think... I think I always have, even when I was trying so hard not to."

The smile that lit up his face was brighter than any you'd ever seen. He pulled you close, his forehead resting against yours. "So where do we go from here?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You took a deep breath, your heart full of hope and possibility. "Forward," you said simply. "Together."

As Joshua's lips met yours in a kiss that felt both familiar and thrillingly new, you knew that this was just the beginning. There would be challenges ahead, old wounds to heal, and new obstacles to overcome. But for the first time in five years, you felt truly, completely whole.

You pulled back slightly, your eyes meeting his. A whirlwind of emotions coursed through you – love, frustration, happiness, and a touch of amused exasperation. Joshua's persistence had not only won him a second chance but had also reignited a love that had never truly died. As you stood there, hand in hand in the park where your story began, the future stretching out before you, a realization hit you.

"DAMN YOU, JOSHUA HONG!" you exclaimed suddenly, causing him to jump in surprise.

His eyes widened, a mix of confusion and concern crossing his face. "What? What's wrong?"

But before he could say anything else, you grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him close again. "Damn you and your persistence," you murmured, a smile tugging at your lips despite your words. "Making me fall in love with you all over again."

Relief and joy flooded Joshua's features as he understood. "I told you I wouldn't give up," he said softly, his arms wrapping around your waist.

"Well, congratulations," you replied, your tone a mixture of sarcasm and genuine affection. "You win. Are you happy now?"

The smile that lit up Joshua's face was answer enough, but he leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, "Happier than I've ever been."

With a playful roll of your eyes, you pulled him in for another kiss, this one deeper and more passionate than the last. As you lost yourself in the moment, you realized that sometimes, the most beautiful love stories are the ones that withstand the test of time and separation, emerging stronger and more resilient than ever before – even if they require a little (or a lot) of persistence along the way.

When you finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, you couldn't help but laugh. "You know," you said, intertwining your fingers with his, "if you ever pull a disappearing act like that again, I'll hunt you down myself."

Joshua grinned, bringing your joined hands to his lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "Noted. Though I have to say, I kind of like this feisty side of you."

"Oh, you haven't seen feisty yet, Hong," you retorted, but your eyes were sparkling with happiness.

And if this man ever forget how lucky he is? Well, you'd be more than happy to remind him – right after you kissed him senseless, of course.

[darlingdreadwrites]

Omfg omfg omfg omfg ggogggiffuuk. That toby x final girl reader was too good I feel like I'm floating....could you do a Jeff x final girl reader?

i hope you enjoy this! sorry if it’s too much of a long read…

pairing: Jeff the Killer x Final Girl F!Reader

summary: you had anticipated a nice road trip with your boyfriend and some friends. when you're forced to stay at a motel for the night, you wished you had stayed home.

contains: Jeff the Killer getting a little crushy wushy on you (sorry i couldn't help it LOL), good ol' slasher shenanigans, Jeff unknowingly getting revenge for you

warnings: violence, gore, NSFW (ESPECIALLY UNDER THE RED DIVIDER), masturbation, insinuation of SA (nothing explicit, but can be read that way), a knife, character deaths, horror/slasher cliches

word count: 3.8k

masterlist

a.n: y'all i did not expect the attention i would get from the toby fics. I LOVE YOU ALL THANK YOU SO MUCH!! i know most of you followed for toby, but i got a request for jeff, so here you go!

This road trip was supposed to be fun. Your boyfriend—Tony—had promised you that. He promised that you’d have a great time. He promised that he would give you all his undivided attention. He promised he’d reign in his creepy friend’s weird comments. He’d promised he wouldn’t let his anger get to him.

“Jesus, old man. Just start the pumps back—“

But said old man interrupts him. They’d been going at this for a good few minutes now. “I cannot do that. You will have to come tomorrow. There’s a nice, luxury motel my buddy runs just up the road.”

“Listen,” Tony lets out a deep breath to try and control himself before he jumps over the counter to strangle the poor man. “We’re only trying to get out of this town, man. It is just one car.”

“If I start the oil back up, I’dun have to start it up for ev’rybody,” the man shakes his head, and I know he’s itching to keep up with the Southern Hospitality act.

You start to space out, having gotten used to Tony’s temper. You just wanted to sleep, no matter where. You spin on your heel and start walking down the candy aisle. There's a buzzing sound above you and you look up to see a flickering light. You swear you can make out the black dots of bugs that are being burnt to a crisp by the blinding lights. 

You almost scream as someone jumps next to you – seemingly out of nowhere – before you realize that it’s just your friend Stephanie. “Whachu want, girl?”

“Steph—“ You whisper-yell, and the girl only giggles. You shove her lightly and turn your attention back on the rows of different sugary confections. She looks up to see Tony still arguing with the gas station attendant. 

 “How long is he gonna keep doing that?” She asks you. You shrug in response. After a few silent moments, she walks around you. “Gonna calm him down.” 

“Mhm,” you hum and pick up a bag that is interesting to you. You squeeze it for no other reason than to hear the familiar crinkle of the plastic. From the corner of your eye, you can make out a figure walking over to you. You bristle already as Don’s cologne already starts to make your eyes sting. 

“You gonna get that?” He asks you and you want to immediately punch the cocky grin off his face. 

“No, just looking,” you answer simply. You place the candy bag back in its spot and cross your arms. 

“You’re already so hostile,” he chuckles, poking your side. You take a step to the side, putting more space between you. “Dude, come on. I’m just playing.” 

Don was never “just playing.” You almost learned that the hard way. 

“I think we're almost leaving,” mumbling, you turn to leave. He scoffs and stays in his spot as you walk toward Tony. Stephanie plays idly with her hair — not helping to calm Tony in the slightest. 

You were about to respond when a man nearly slams you to the ground. You catch yourself on your boyfriend’s back, who only noticed the interaction when you bumped into him. 

 “Watch it, asshole—” he shouts. 

You snap your head in the direction of the door, but the man was already gone. The bell hanging from the door almost flew off — you only caught a glimpse of white.

“You know what? Fine.” Tony glares at the worker. “Let’s just go to this shitty-ass motel and sleep with bed bugs, guys. Thanks for nothing, motherfucker.”

Stephanie and Don snicker, and your face burns from embarrassment.

“Luxury motel” my ass, you thought. This place was the dingiest shit hole you’d ever seen. It was a classic two-story nightmare that you would see in a horror movie. There was only one other car but yours, and you could see the grime on the walls from the car. The rust that clung to the metal railings on the upper level streaked down like old bloodstains. Half of the lights on the neon sign that perched from the roof were dead — making it read as “Mo.” But there was nothing your group could do tonight. There was only enough gas to drive back to the gas station tomorrow.

After securing the rooms — and Tony weirdly insisting that you and him have a room upstairs while your friends were downstairs — you all decided to head to the pool. That was the most normal your group had ever been in a while. You played around with them as they splashed water on each other, and Tony even got a little clingy. You missed that feeling of his body enveloping yours in his warmth – and not just for sex.

“I am so tired,” Stephanie exclaims as she climbs out of the pool. You follow behind her and grab your towel. Stephanie pauses and turns to look at you. “Hey, have you guys seen my key?”

“Didn’t you bring it?” You tilt your head to the side, wrapping your towel around you.

“I thought I did. Where the fuck—did one of you guys take it?” She looks over your shoulder to look at the two men. They only shook their heads. “Ugh. Guess I have to talk to that weirdo at the front desk. What was this name again? Miles? Mickey?”

“Micheal,” you correct her, suppressing a smile.

“Oh, yeah,” she giggled. “Micheal Myers.”

As you walk back upstairs to your room, you can’t help but walk a little closer to Tony. You felt shiver spreading like ice under your skin. An invisible force made you feel heavier, as if someone’s eyes were pressing into your back. The prickling sensation of the hairs on your body raising caused you to turn your head to look behind your shoulder.

“Scared?” The sound of your boyfriend’s voice causes you to look straight ahead. Both of you had stopped just in front of the stairs – you hadn’t realized.

“This place is so creepy,” is all you say.

The motel room was just as shitty as the outside, but at least it was warm. The lights were all a disgusting yellow color against the fake wood paneling. There was a small TV sitting on an aged drawer, a desk with a table, and a singular bed that you could already smell the dust from. You remind yourself to urge Tony not to use the thick blanket when you sleep.

You had just received a text from Stephanie saying she was going to sleep when Tony stepped out of the bathroom. You sent a quick message back to your friend before putting the phone down on the bed. You smiled up at Tony as he walked over to your side. He cupped your chin – sending a wave of heat through your whole body – before he lets it fall back to his side.

“I’m going to Don’s room downstairs,” he informs you and your face falls.

“Why?” You ask before you can stop yourself.

“He brought his PS4,” he says it like it’s obvious.

Of course.

“’Kay, well,” you swallow your disappointment. “Take the key. I’m not waking up to let you back in.”

“My own girl would let me sleep outside?” He looks at you with a lopsided grin, tilting his head. You can’t help but smile back. He hadn’t called you that in a while.

“I could. Now go.”

“Bye, baby,” he chuckles and turns to leave.

Your eyes stay trained on the back of his head until it’s blocked by the closing of a door. You bite at the inside of your cheek. You close your eyes, reinviting the tiredness you had felt earlier. Lifting the blanket, you slide down beneath it, settling into a lying position. An odd, old smell wafts from the sheets, but the warmth provides a comfort that you need.

You’re woken up from your slumber by the sound of a blaring car alarm. The walls do nothing to muffle the sound of the piercing, repetitive wail. Surely any member of your group could do it, and you wouldn’t need to get up. After another minute, you toss the blankets off you and swing your legs over the edge of the mattress. Sliding your shoes on, you stand up.

The keys jingle as you pick them up and stomp over to the door. You stick half of your body out of the door and point at the keys in the general direction of the car. That didn’t work. You groan and walk outside to get closer to the railing – the door closes behind you. Oh shit. But it was too late when you turned around. Pressing down on the right key fob, the car finally shuts up. You try the door anyway. No luck. The only one with the room key is Tony.

You walk down the stairs of the motel. In the distance, you could see Don still at the pool. Funny, you thought. Wasn’t he supposed to be playing with Tony? Maybe he got bored of watching your boyfriend. Walking over to Don’s room, a noise captures your attention. It’s not talking, more like moaning and giggling – from Stephanie’s room. You realized that you could see a crack of light coming from the door – it hadn’t been fully closed. You snicker, thinking of how you’d tease her for being desperate enough to get with Don.

Wait, but… you just saw Don. Still at the pool. And there had been no sign of Tony.

Slowly, and with an anxious flutter in your chest, you step in front of the door. The door stays miraculously silent as you gently push it open. You swear that your heart stops beating. There, on Stephanie’s bed, the pair are writhing against each other. Tony mouths at the side of her throat, while your friend’s arms are snaking under his shirt. You slammed the door as your heart threatens to jump out of your throat. You walk away, dazed – ignoring the loud sounds that emit from the closed room.

The air in the room was heavy with the scent of copper and the drone of the motel lights above. Jeff is leaning over the bodies of Stephanie and Tony, his blade dripping red as he finishes the final carving of a grotesque grin on Tony’s face. He’s precise with his movements – like an artist putting the final strokes to their masterpiece. Jeff had to reposition the bitch back on top of the girl he was swapping spit with. God, he could still see the look of horror on their faces. Her skin was pale and dull, with a similar smile etched onto her features.

He straightens up and takes a step back, assessing his work, and his head tilted. He’d really outdone himself this time, he thought. Jeff smirks, reveling in his sick joke. He lazily wipes his blade on Tony’s sleeve – not that it made a difference. These two were coated in blood he had fun playing with.

The shrill scream slices through his moment of silence – it had come from outside. He freezes before his head snaps toward the door. Who was that? His pulse accelerates, not from fear, but from curiosity. He walks to the door, another wide grin on his face. He cracks it open enough to peek his head through, the sound drowned out by the lingering echoes of the scream.

Jeff can see you on the second floor, standing frozen in place and trembling. His eyes travel down to the crumpled body on the floor – it was the other guy. Don, or whatever. His body lays in an unnatural position, and he can see the man’s lifeless face. His jaw was out of place, jutting out like an extreme underbite. Jeff would’ve cackled if he wasn’t meant to be quiet. That’s what’s so boring about targeting a group of people. He had to be quiet until everyone was dead. Which they all were, eventually.

But, then, his eyes flicker to you again. You weren’t crying like he thought you would be. You were just… there – you didn’t even look down to make sure your buddy was okay. Just one peek was enough for you – got you hollering like a pig – but you weren’t crying or running for the cops. He leans out further as you mechanically walk over to the stairs. The split second of fear he had seen on your face was all but gone. Your shock had made you numb, and you would just walk around it like it was nothing. Like your friend’s mangled body was just a bug.

“Oh, you’re fucked up,” Jeff whispered, a smirk on his face.

That excited him. He would be the one to get you crying in terror soon.

Nothing seemed real anymore. You were sure this was some kind of nightmare. That’s why you didn’t care. You just walked over to the ice machine – ignoring Don’s body on the floor – and grabbed a handful of ice. You don’t waste another second and shove as many ice cubes in your mouth as you could. Some had slipped out and crackled against the concrete floor. The pieces that skittered away had flown at your feet. But you didn’t feel it. You didn’t feel anything.

As you crunch on the ice, you slide some of the remaining pieces over your skin. The stinging cold that you would usually feel was replaced by a slight buzzing under your skin. You’re not sure whether you’re glad you can’t feel anything or not. You just wanted to sleep now.

Oh, right. The room key.

Letting the remaining ice cubes fall to the floor, you spun to head in the direction of the lobby. You didn’t want to deal with seeing your boyfriend’s tongue in your best friend’s mouth. You decided that you’d deal with them tomorrow. You didn’t care anymore. And they didn’t care either, it seemed. That’s why they didn’t come out running after you, right? They didn’t care enough to even pretend like they felt guilty. Tony wasn’t groveling at your feet, and Stephanie wasn’t crying her eyes out – begging you to still be her best friend. They had to know it was you that came into the room and slammed the door.

The lights overhead were a dull, sterile white compared to the yellow of the rooms – but it still smelled like piss. You could hear some sports game being played on a tiny, clunky box TV. But there was no sign of the owner. You turned your head from side to side but saw no sign of the fat old man. When you look back at the front desk, you notice the small rack of candy. Fuck it, you shrug as you reached a hand out and grab one. The numb buzz was starting to die down, but there was still no sense of real fear. Just the same tiredness you felt all day.

Guess you’d have to speed up the reunion early, huh?

The door to the room was slightly ajar once again. You had closed it, you remembered that. Maybe they had gone looking for you. Or at least when you had screamed. You nudged the door open with your foot.

Dropping the bag of candy on the floor, you felt bile rising in your throat. Your heart stopped for what seemed like the third time tonight. You honestly wished it would stop forever.

The putrid stench of the blood – let alone the sight of it – attacks your senses and made your head spin. The bodies were positioned as if they were frozen in a perverse display of intimacy. Tony’s face was right up on Stephanie’s, her cheek was being pulled on by Tony’s teeth to make it look like he was eating her face. Your stomach churned and eyes brimmed with hot tears. Doubling over, you retched onto the already stained carpet in the room.

You staggered backward, your legs threatening to give out as they shook. But you managed to take quicks steps back in the direction of the lobby. Your blood seemed to rush to your head, and you could’ve mistaken the pumping for the sound of drums. You wanted to scream and cry and throw up all at once. You wanted out.

Rounding the corner, the motel owner stepped out of a nearby room just a few feet in front of you. You could see the sweat on his shirt as he fiddled with the key ring – he was locking a door. He raised a hand to wipe some sweat from his brow, oblivious to your approach.

Your heart pounded as you stopped dead in your tracks. His actions were so mundane compared to the horror you had just witnessed. It made your stomach do flips. This was just another night for him. Another night of fixing the rooms and watching football on his TV.

“Sir-sir,” you tried to speak, but it came out in a shaky rasp.

Micheal turned to you, his brows raising in surprise. You had startled him. He gave you a once-over before smiling. “Is there anything I can do for you, miss?”

“They’re…” Your lips trembled as you tried to get the words to come out of your mouth instead of puke. You knew you were inaudible, but you didn’t have the strength to speak properly. “They’re… all… They’re dead.”

“I’m sorry, hon,” he leaned forward and squinted. “What was that? I didn’t quite catch—”

The man’s eyes widened and a wet, gargle emitted from his mouth as it hung open. Blood poured from the side of his neck, and a hand shot out to grab his shoulder and stabilize him. There was a squelching sound as the knife was dragged just above the owner’s shoulder. He crumples forward, sending a shower of blood your way, and some of it fills your mouth before you close it tight. Your eyes follow the sight of the keys that land with a soft jingle at your feet.

You stare at the man responsible for only a second. His scarred, unnaturally pale face is framed by jet-black hair that falls wildly across his face. It casts shadows onto his skin, especially his sunken-in, hollow eyes. They’re wide as they stare at you – cold and vacant. His most defining and spine-chilling feature is the wide, carved out smile on his face. It looked like it had scabbed over months ago, but it was still glaringly present. If this man was human, he didn’t look it.

But you act faster than you or he anticipated. You dive for the keys, picking them off the ground, when, suddenly, you feel a hand grab your wrist. He pulls you back up, bringing you closer to his body.

Just when you thought it was all over, you realize that the man is just staring at you. You feel his warm breath hit your face, and you can’t tear your eyes away from him. You’re confused, and it seems that so is he. Using this to your advantage, you smash the ring of keys into the side of his head.

As he howls out in pain, you break free and take a few steps back. You turn and bolt in the direction of a beat-up truck – the only other vehicle in the parking lot. Your hands shook and you clutched at the keys held tightly in your palm. It felt like you could suffocate with the heavy, tense air that surrounded you.

You cursed under your breath as you tried – and failed – to fit the key into the car door. The sound of the jingling only heightened your sense of panic. The key finally slipped into the lock, and you let out a quiet whimper. You yanked the car open, not daring to turn around.

Jeff simply watched you with a wide grin on his face. He was amused by your desperation – elated by the thrill of hunting you down. When the car clicked open, something in him clicked. His smile faltered as the realization that you were almost getting away hit him hard. With quick movements, he sprinted toward you and rounded the car to the driver’s seat.

You practically flew into the driver’s seat and slammed the door just as Jeff’s knife made contact with the window. The loud, grating sound of metal meeting glass caused you to scream. But you continued your attempt to get away. You jam the keys into the ignition, ignoring the hand slamming into the window.

“You bitch,” he snarled, banging on the glass. “I’m gonna gut you like a pig when I get my fucking hands on you!”

The tires of the car screech as you threw it into gear, jerking it backwards. Jeff continued to try and slice through the window, the sharp blade leaving a jagged mark. He took a step back to avoid his foot getting run over by one of the tires. He watches as you manically speed out of the parking lot, his figure getting smaller in the rearview mirror.

Your breath was coming out in short bursts, and your heart pounded wildly. As you drive off, you get one final look at him. He just stands in the parking lot, his own chest rising and falling rapidly. He doesn’t chase your stolen car, but you can tell that his mind is thinking of how he can enact his revenge. For now, he’s proud that you’ve gotten away just this time.

Two Weeks Later

Jeff couldn’t stop thinking about you. He very rarely lets people get away on his sprees. Not that he was going to let you live, don’t be fucking stupid. He knew how to find you and what he’d do. The man was just biding his time. He wanted the time to be right. He wanted to make it special for you.

The thing was, that second guy – the one that was crushed on the floor – that wasn’t Jeff’s kill. And, as far as he knew, it wasn’t poor old Micheal’s either. You did that. Something had made you snap. And Jeff knew that feeling all too well. Just what had that useless motherfucker done to you? Must’ve been bad enough to cause a sweet little thing like you to break.

He… sympathized with you. In a very stupid way that he hated. But he also loved the blank look in your eyes as your brain numbed you to the act you acted on. That made him want you, oh, so badly.

He could make as many excuses as he wanted, but he wanted you. His mind replayed the whole thing like a movie. He thought about you while he trained, while he maimed, while he slept. And especially while pumping his hand along his cock. He’d stare up at the ceiling, mouth hanging open as low moans dragged out from his throat. He thought of the way your face twisted in fear, the blood that spattered on you, and oh that felt just right. That’s why he needed to see you again. He wanted you. He wanted you. He wanted you.

He hoped you were prepared.

[bluerthanvelvet444]

ᯓ★⋆˚𝙿𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙼𝚊𝚡𝚒𝚖𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜⋆｡˚ ⁀➷

(Peter Maximoff x fem!reader)

tags: sfw and nsfw.

warnings: none.

character count: 7k.

this was a request!

ᯓ★⋆𝚂𝙵𝚆⋆｡⁀➷

He LOVES playing games with you.

Peter was often bored, being locked in his mother’s basement led to doing the same things over and over again. This is why he loved playing games with you, no matter if they were board games or card ones, he was utterly fond of the idea of games ending in many different ways and sometimes taking different turns, never knowing if a game could last minutes or hours. He would throw game nights with candies and junk food. He really liked playing Cluedo, especially roleplaying the whole thing, he would get SO into the character, many times taking it personally when he was accused of being the murderer, always doing accents and creating a whole backstory (even if not needed). He believed it was “funnier” this way…but really, he was just a dork by nature. He enjoyed Monopoly too, although getting into the character in this game would often lead to him getting SO mad when things started to go bad for him. He claimed he was “the best gamer of all times” but in reality was actually pretty bad, especially with strategy games since he tended to act impulsively without logic. Many times you had to let him win to avoid cocky tantrums and just getting his ego hurt.

He is constantly spoiling you with gifts.

His main goal in life was owning the "Twinkie" company being the best boyfriend you could ever ask for. So whatever you desired, he gave you.

“Look how cute this is Pet-” You started while pointing at the picture of what you wanted, and before you knew it, Peter left your room at the highest of speeds just to come back in the blink of an eye with the thing you were just talking about in his hands.

“Gotcha.” He winked with a cute smirk.

“Peter! You didn’t have to. You probably spent so much for this…” You said, feeling guilty.

“Who said I paid for it?”

He takes you anywhere you want.

You mentioned wanting to go to the beach? He took you there in no time, not even letting you put your swimsuit on.

You dreamed of going to Paris? Sweep. Two seconds and you were taking a picture under the Tour Eiffel while he was holding a baguette and had a fake mustache on.

In the little time you started dating him, you already visited more places than you did in your entire life, and your bedroom was full of polaroids of you two around the world. This counts for concerts and other things too. He’s basically a free VIP pass.

He always matches your mood.

If you wanted to go to the cinema and watch a movie, he would sneak you two in the theater, stealing popcorn and all types of soda.

If you wanted to party hard and just forget about everything for a night, he would throw the BIGGEST party in the x-men’s mansion, just for you.

If you wanted to stay home and relax, he would grab a comfy blanket and a few snacks, cuddling up against you. Either spooning you or being spooned.

He hypes you up no matter what, he’s your biggest fan.

You were out shopping with Peter, so you took the chance to try some dresses on. You were in the changing room, looking at your body in the mirror. Many thoughts were flowing in your head, you didn’t know if you liked or hated it. Peter slightly peeked from the curtain.

“Babe are ya don- HOLY SHIT!” His eyes widened at the sight of you.

“Do you like it?” You asked while still looking in the mirror.

“Like it? Ya asking me if I- if I like it?! Are ya out of yer mind?! I dont like it! I love it!” He opened wide the whole curtain.

“Mh…I don’t know if this really fits m-” You were cut off by Peter suddenly grabbing your shoulders.

“Fits you?! FITS YA?! Babe.Ya need to get this right now. It was made for you- Holy shit! It looks like it was tailored to you!” He grinned widely.

“i don’t kno-Peter!” You exclaimed as he picked you up in his arms.

“YER STUNNING. Gorgeous! Breathtaking! Damn! Yer really my girl? I’m the luckiest bastard in the world!” He carried you in his arms out of the changing room.

“SHE’S MY GIRLFRIEND! HEY YOU! YES! SHE’S MY GIRLFRIEND! I’M THE LUCKIEST BASTARD IN THE WORLD! WHOOOOO!” He shouted excitedly to the whole store while you covered your burning cheeks and begged him to stop.

He likes watching you put on your makeup, occasionally attempting to put it on you, too.

His tongue poked out of his mouth as he tried to blend the foundation on your skin.

“Why’s this taking so long?!” He huffed.

“Peter, that’s an eyeshadow brush.”

“Oh.”

ᯓ★⋆˚𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆⋆｡˚ ⁀➷

He’s horny 24/7.

Because of his speedster genes everything his body did was faster than normal. It was sooo easy to get him hard. You could’ve been either provoking him or doing nothing.

You were laying on the bed, your boyfriend spooning you from behind. You pressed your back against him, earning a groan from him. Thinking you accidentally hurt him, you turned to face him, just to find a visible grown bulge in his pants.

“I barely touched you…” You teased.

“S’the speedster genes…” He whined.

He’s such a switch.

You were sitting between his legs, your back pressed against his chest. His fingers slipping in and out of your entrance with unholy sounds.

“Mh…Just like that, babe…takin’ it so well…” He purred in your ear, causing loud moans to slip out of you. He kept speeding his fingers more and more, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Not wanting to finish alone, you suddenly changed positions, straddling him and stroking his length from his pants.

“A-ah…please babe…” He was already a subby mess under you, whining and begging you for more.

He’s open to all types of sex with you.

Fast? His name is quickie for a reason, his body will be blurred by how fast he will be.

Slow? Mhh…It will be torture for him but, sure, anything to pleasure you.

Loving? He could be hugging you from behind, gently thrusting in you and whispering sweet words and moans in your ear.

Rough? Absolutely. He’ll have you screaming his name as loud as possible. Oh, and prepare for a loooong night, the speedster genes help a lot with his sex drive.

No toys!

One thing he will never accept is you using sex toys. Why on earth would you use a miserable piece of plastic to please yourself when you have him?

He can be a vibrator, a dildo…everything! And a good one too. Whenever you need to feel good, just give him a call! He will drop everything just to have fun with you. Don’t tell Professor X that.

Quickies in public are more common than you think.

With him being always horny, he often found himself staring at you for longer than usual, which sent heat waves straight to his core, even in public.

“Babe…” He started with whispering your name in your ear, his body pressing against yours from behind.

“I need you…” He whined, subtly rubbing his hard-on against your ass. You questioned him, reminding him that you were in public.

He quickly brought you inside a public bathroom. His hands desperately grabbing your body.

“Please…I’ll be quick…” He groaned against your neck, sucking the skin gently. As soon as you agreed, you found yourself pressed up against a wall and his clothes immediately coming off.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

taglist: @cxndiedvi0lets @angeldollw @marchsfreakshow @dangeroustaintedflawed @yandereunsolved @newwavesylviaplath @happy74827 @evpeters87 @dont-look-behind

a/n: hiiii!!! my first headcanonssss...tried to put more dorky canon peter. hope you like them!!🩶🩶

all rights reserved!!

[iridescana]

₊˚⊹ ᰔ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚...𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡

.☘︎ ݁˖ 𝐬𝐲𝐧. 𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘧𝘦'𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘴 ᥫ᭡. 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭. 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 ༯ 𝑴𝑰𝑵𝑶𝑹𝑺 𝑫𝑵𝑰

...word count: 1.1k

...note from irene: don't ask.

nanami kento rests languidly on the edge of the bed, your back in his view as he graciously takes the mantle of an attentive husband.

“i literally can’t with you. you’re a natural at this stuff,” you huff, somewhere between a vent and a bout of praise that he found endearing nonetheless. he raises an eyebrow, albeit dazed by the hypnotic show of you being able to reach your own zipper - who’s a natural at what? you, who resumes your tirade with an obliviousness towards his wandering eyes, is a natural at enchanting him. your hair was blown out, almost reaching your shoulders in cloudy tufts - that had been the last mission of tonight, a hairstyle more laborious than the act of lifting weights. “you can easily get away with being stand-offish, which…i’m not saying you are but…”

he releases a soft chuckle, adjusting his cufflinks, “now, humor me for a second, my love. when have you ever seen me get defensive?” 

“huh?” you tilt your head in confusion eyeing him expectantly through your reflection as you secure your earring. 

“you don’t need to worry about insulting me, darling. i can take it. if you think i’m stand-offish, just say it.”

you briefly turn to face him, bestowing a histrionic look of indignation. “i wasn’t saying that! okay—” you raise your hands in surrender, “you are quite stoic. does that do you justice?”

he offers a hum, one of satisfaction, an invitation for you to continue to the point you had intended to make. and you do just that, bending over the vanity to apply your lip gloss as kento’s attention blithely averts to the curve of your ass. “so, yes. you could get away with what will earn me, at best, some auntie in the corner asking me if i’m okay like…please! i’m fine! i just wanna be left alone!” 

he chuckles along with you again, silently basking in your mirthful exchange… until he notices it. within seconds. the brief drag of hesitation as you began working on your hair. your makeshift puff remains put, arms raised for your hands to take the temporary role of a hair tie and…

…oh dear.

you were staring at your underarms again. in acute disdain. 

he needn’t say a word - this conundrum was as foreign to him as a blue sky. but you’ve only complained about it once, a main focus on the fruitlessness of your spending. all these regimens, remedies and receipts the length of the great wall of china for them to still be there - sizable splotches of pigmentation that you just can’t seem to get rid of, no matter how hard you try.

once, you’ve verbally lamented. 

but more than once, you’d been reluctant to don anything without sleeves, participate in anything remotely related to summer - and if you did, not lifting your arms was the war you were prepared to die in. and tonight, well, you’d had the misfortune of learning life’s indifference. the thin straps of your silky, cream white dress were well in torturing you with a reminder.

a click of the tongue bounces off the walls of your bedroom, and kento tries to think less about how your beauty terrifies him, opting to soothe you with his adeptness in subtlety. 

“darling,” he begins, standing to walk towards you, “i think you should wear your hair down.”

“hm, i think so too,” you smile warmly at him through your reflection, conducting his suggestion by letting go of your hair and instead opting to comb it out, “let’s just hope it doesn’t rain tonight. i honestly don’t get the appeal of outdoor parties.”

all that follows is a soft hum, one of admiration. truly, you are an angel sent from heaven. more than just the angelic glow of your skin under the vanity light, your smile - your soul - can account for that. he watches you, deftly pulling at your coils to maintain the perfect shape - watching you fruitlessly strive to perfect the one thing that has always been just that. you. perfect.

“what?” you meekly acknowledge his stare with a shy smile, halting your movements. 

“my love,” he drags, moving close enough for his hands to reach your hips. your attention moves away from your hair, prompting you to put your comb down and heed the sensation of his chest meeting your back. kento’s hands are calculated, a dexterous trace of your curves striving for a different kind of tenor - a lead from one thing to a delectable other. he moves his lips towards your ear, hazel eyes meeting yours through the mirror in a wordless declaration of unabashed desire. “you know that every inch of you is perfect, right?”

you shiver, at your best to conceal your want to reciprocate by scoffing playfully, “fancy, i’ve never pegged you for the corny type.” 

“i mean it,” he rejoins, ignoring your jest, softly kissing the shell of your ear before he performs the unexpected, a hand moving to gently grab your wrist, lifting your arm up above your head. “every…inch.”

oh. 

he really means it.

heat rises to your cheeks, noting how observant he had been towards your behavior earlier - this wasn’t new to you. you could stain a white shirt with pasta sauce and he’d counter your dismay by saying that it should’ve been there when you first bought it. he’d praise any part of you from head to toe. that realization had been made many moons ago. now, as all attention falls upon your exposed underarm, you forgo the need to protest, keeping your arm raised and resting your hand on the back of your husband’s head, fingertips blissfully pricked by the sharpness of his undercut. 

“mmm…every inch, you say?” you murmur with feigned cynicism, a grin rising as Kento’s hand gently slides down the tricep of your raised arm. 

“mhm…every…inch” your heartbeat is the toms of an acoustic drum set, as he reaches your underarm, lightly grazing the skin with his fingertips, prompting you to shiver at the ticklish sensation. “god, you’re breathtaking…”

he breathes it out like it’s the first time, and the sight before you is…sinful? a burlesque plays out in your reflection, a hand sensually caressing your hip whilst the other continues to draw reverent patterns on the area you’ve detested for eons. your husband, so fucking handsome, buries his face in crook of your neck, inspiring every last bit of your scent, and you still can’t help but huff in amusement, “hm, my black armpits were the ones to bring you to that revelation?”

“you amuse me, my love,” is the muffled, half dismissal towards your counter, followed by a kiss on your neck, “now, let me enjoy you.”

you giggle softly, meek at how your husband's brief praise towards your underarm has ever so slightly titillated you, “we’re gonna be late, you know…”

he perks up, privy to the suggestion you so dared to make, “if memory serves me correctly, it’s you who fails to see the appeal in these outdoor parties.”

[majesticarlette]

Enemies

Adrien Agreste/Chat Noir x Ladybug!Reader

"Surrender your Miraculous, Chat Noir!" You shouted as you glare at him from above on top of the Eiffel Tower.

"Dream on, Ladybug." He smirked and fires multiple Cataclysms in your direction. You used your yo-yo as a shield to protect yourself and fled the Eiffel Tower.

The city of Paris is once again troubled by a megakuma and after you just de-evilized the butterfly, a wild Chat Noir appeared. It's exhausting to deal with two birds with one stone but it's worth it. He was able to expand his powers, making the fights between you more difficult. He could fire multiple but limited cataclysms now. If he expanded his own powers, you sure also did. It's only fair to fight a lion if you're also a lion.

Chat Noir followed you as you escape the Eiffel Tower. Fortunately, he isn't as sharp as a knife, and with your street-smarts, you were able to lose him.

"This is taking too long, I have a date later." You groaned and you activated your second lucky charm, and it gave you a superglue. At this point, you're not going to question how it is used, but to figure out what to do about it fast.

You came back to where the fight was and scanned the environment, and you didn't spot anything to use the superglue with.

"You sure ain't good at hiding, huh, Ladybug?" You turned around and saw Chat spinning his baton, and you finally knew how to end this thing at once.

"Eh, you didn't even catch up to me given your cat abilities. Lame." You rolled your eyes trying to provoke him. He charges at you, and you two get into a fight worse than a catfight.

You love angering the cat in front of you, and the way he's slowly losing his cool from you dodging his scratches satiates an itch in your brain. You don't really hate him in the beginning, you actually wanted to cooperate with this kitty but something about the two of you just don't click. He doesn't plan his punches, he's impulsive, arrogant, doesn't like getting told what to do, and claiming he's a solo flight in fights.

Even actual cats don't behave this way, they won't exert much energy for this crap. Ugh!

Chat Noir growls and starts exerting more strength in his moves trying to bring you down.

"Oh... I see sweat, Kitty. Are you having a hard time? You think you're the only cat who's gonna lose to a bug?" You laugh earning a yell of rage from him. At this point in the fight, you're just dodging his offenses and waiting for a sign to use your lucky charm.

"You think you're all that?! You can't even defeat the megakuma by yourself!"

"Please, you think you did anything? You acted like a cat who broke a glass and thinks he did something great. In short you made it way worse!" He managed to scratch your suit earning a clean incision on your arm. You flinched at the sensation and let out a gasp.

Distracted, Chat Noir took this advantage to reach his staff from behind. He extended it to knock you out of the fight.

You flew from the impact and held onto his staff. You groaned from the pain and checked yourself from any more damages. As you were standing up, Chat Noir used his extended staff to knock you out of your balance, once again falling on your ass.

He chuckled at your state retracting his staff. "You think highly of yourself--"

"And you don't?!--" You hiss

"Shh! I'm talking!" He glared at you. "This is why you're so hard to deal with, you're so stubborn!" As he was about to rant his troubles about you, he saw you wiping blood from your injured arm. His eyes grew wide, did he cause this? If he did... Why would he even care? You deserved it! You don't believe in him! Is it deep, though? It might get infected...

He shook his thoughts and tried to put his staff back but it won't budge. He furrowed his eyebrows and held onto the other end to try and get it off the other but both ended up stuck. He groans in annoyance while putting much force to get it off, yet no luck.

You laughed at the scene and stood from where you were. "I told you, you don't plan ahead. I guess curiosity really killed the cat." You used your yo-yo strings to wrap around his ankles and yanked him up on the street lamp.

"Admit defeat?" You held up the super glue you used on his staff and pinched the cheeks of his upside down face. He only furrowed his brows further. "You know your face could get stuck on that expression--" As things were getting your way, beeping was heard from the two of you. "Not now!" You retracted your yo-yo from him. "This isn't over!" You ran away, leaving him on his own.

You let out a sigh after de-transforming back to your civilian self. You were exhausted from fighting two people today. Why can't Chat Noir surrender his miraculous so you can give it to the person who deserves it, like Marinette! Why did Master Shifu give it to him to begin with?

Your thoughts were interrupted when your phone was alarmed. "Oh, no! I totally forgot!" You really need to have a hero/life balance, how will you get to know your other half if you always prioritize hero duties?

You ran your heart out to the park to meet your date today. Panting, you scanned the area to see any signs of him but he was nowhere to be seen. Yeah, he already went home, it's really rude to make your date wait for a while, he might've felt embarrassed.

Sighing for the second time, you turned around and decided to walk home. "(Y/n)! Wait!" The familiar voice alerted you and looked around for the source, and there you saw him, Adrien. He was running towards you.

"I'm sorry, I was late! We hid from the megakuma and only stepped out when it was clear." He panted, catching his breath. Yeah, you and Chat Noir really contributed to his lateness.

"Are you okay? Were you hurt from the villain?" He cupped your cheeks checking you for any injuries.

"N-no! I'm fine, really!" You tucked your hair behind your ear, feeling flustered by his presence.

Little did you know, Adrien noticed your arm injury. It's really identical to what he did to Ladybug.

Yeah, you did not only forget one thing.

[directdogman]

Super stoked for the Roger DLC and WILL be playing it on release, but something that’s been bugging me ever since the first few teasers was Peter, his personality feels quite different to me and my Peter obsessed friend, is there a reason for his personality change or was it completely unintentional?

He feels a lot more hot headed now, not completely the same as but similar to Steven, which feels like a complete 180 for Peter, I always remember enjoying him more in DSaF 2 because he was the more relaxed Phoney who when he had geniunely serious moments, it was incredibly impactful and gut wrenching when Peter would yell at me. 😔

Also, will Steven ever be real in dialtown please sir I miss my wif-

The comparison just always bothered me slightly.

Different universes. I should note that while Peter IS chiller in DSaF 2, if the restaurant goes under, the main consequence is that the company will get mortally wounded and he might die. The other employees will (for the most part) be fine. Peter cares. He cares if you hurt employees, he cares if you fuck up but is also willing to look the other way a few times if the fuckup isn't bad enough (without letting it slide, because he still cares what you do at work too.) I'd say his attitude at work namely stems from that, rather than the other way around. Steven does NOT care. He is literally willing to throw you under the bus to save himself and his sole goal is keeping the place open specifically so he can save his own hide, and his hot-headedness comes from that.

In DT, Peter is at the end of his rope and has had to deal with a LOT up until this point, arguably even more than his DSaF counterpart in terms of his day to day job, as shocking as that may sound. There's also WAY more on the line this time. He isn't the one that's going to face the worst of what'll happen if things continue at their current trajectory (unlike Peter or Steven in their original games.) He explains this pretty early into the DLC, which may explain why he's testier than you remember him, namely what's on the line. He's trying his damndest to fix it but is failing. He's stuck between a rock and a hard place with Roger, recognizing his bad leadership is sinking the plant but caring too much about the guy to effectively deal with it until this point.

His guard is up because it has to be, but he does have a few nice moments where it's clear how much he cares and if you listen to Roger's dialogue carefully, you'll see just how much Peter has put up with that would've made any sane person walk away. He's also noticeably nicer to Gingi if you don't waste his time and seem to actually care about Roger, and he acts closer to how he does in the DSaF 2 screenshot you showed off, though perhaps with slightly less energy (since he is, like I said, at the end of his rope.) There's even a scene in the evil route where you can identify this and use it against him in a pretty sinister way.

To mention another thing that even Gingi sees as far back as his original scene in DT: He's a natural manager who's playing second-fiddle to someone who clearly doesn't know what he's doing.

I didn't just wanna do more of the same, so I played with the dynamics a lil. Peter is in a very different role here, one that he's not exactly suited to. He's out of his element. He's inundated with work and in this scene, is thinking about the lives of the employees who are going to be laid-off in a week or so time if things don't change FAST, and while this is happening, his boss is bantering with a weird cryptid on the street and talking about random garbage.

There are times in DSaF 2, like you said, where you do see him get like this. It's not as much that his character is different in my eyes, but that the context is. This is a version of Peter who is one bad day away from having to make a difficult decision. Literally. I'll gladly talk more about it when the DLC's out (namely I could compare + contrast certain decisions he makes!) For now, I don't wanna spoil anything that isn't explicitly stated in the first major scene he has.