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boykisser4 · 21 hours ago

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The Breakaway

pairing: Naoya Zenin x male reader

warnings: toxic & abusive relationship, things get physical, no nsfw

Naoya Zenin sat at the counter of his favorite coffee shop, the warm glow of the pendant lights reflecting off his glasses. He stared at the steaming cup of black coffee, his thoughts swirling like the milk in a latte art design. The scent of freshly ground beans filled the air, a comforting aroma that was a stark contrast to the chaos in his mind. His thumb traced the edge of the worn book in front of him, a habit when he was deep in thought. The barista called out the next order with a cheerful tone that grated on his nerves, pulling him out of his introspection.

The door chimed as the m/n entered, the cool evening breeze bringing a hint of rain with it. He scanned the room, his eyes finally landing on Naoya. A flicker of something unreadable crossed Naoya's face before he forced a smile, beckoning him over. As m/n approached, Naoya took in his damp hair, the way his sweatshirt clung to his frame, and the faint scent of rain on his skin. He felt a pang of guilt, knowing that their relationship had been strained for months. m/n slid onto the stool, setting down his own book. They used to share a passion for reading, but lately, it felt like the only thing they had in common was the silence that stretched between them.

Naoya took a sip of his coffee, the bitter taste doing little to warm his soul. "You picked a good night to come out," he said, trying to keep his voice light. m/n nodded, his eyes flitting to the book Naoya had been staring at. "What's new?" The question hung in the air, a loaded invitation to bridge the gap that had grown between them.

m/n hesitated, then slid his own book across the counter. "Just started this one. It's supposed to be a gripping thriller." Naoya recognized the title, a bestseller he had read last year. He nodded, searching for something to say that didn't involve the heavy weight of their reality. "I remember the plot twist at the end," he said, smiling faintly. "It's a real page-turner."

The silence grew heavier, each tick of the clock behind the counter echoing in the space between them. Naoya's stomach clenched as he considered the state of their relationship. It had started off with late-night study sessions and stolen kisses in quiet corners, evolving into something beautiful and full of promise. But somewhere along the line, it had turned toxic. Jealousy and accusations had seeped in, corroding the foundation they had built.

"Look, I know things have been... rough," Naoya began, his voice low and earnest. He reached out, placing his hand over the m/n's. It was cold from the rain outside, but the gesture was met with a tense stillness. "I just want to fix this, okay?"

m/n's eyes remained on their joined hands, his own grip tightening around his coffee cup. "I don't know if it's that simple, Naoya," he said, his voice laced with a weariness that hadn't been there before.

Naoya felt the temperature in the room drop as m/n's words settled over them. He withdrew his hand, the sudden absence of contact leaving his skin feeling cold. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice strained.

m/n sighed, his gaze finally meeting Naoya's. "I mean that maybe we can't just fix this with a conversation over coffee," he said, his voice steady but laced with sadness. "It's been going on for so long, and I've tried to ignore it, to believe it would get better, but..." He trailed off, taking a shaky breath.

Naoya's expression hardened, his grip on his mug tightening until his knuckles turned white. "What are you saying?" he demanded, his voice raising just a notch.

m/n's eyes widened at the sudden shift in Naoya's demeanor. He took a step back, the stool scraping against the tiles. "I'm saying we need a break," he clarified, his voice trembling slightly. "Some time apart to figure things out."

Naoya's jaw clenched as he processed the words. "A break?" he echoed, his voice a dangerous whisper. He stood up so abruptly that his chair toppled over, the clatter startling the nearby patrons. "Is that what you think this is? Just something to put on pause?"

m/n's eyes darted around the room, seeking an escape from the confrontation that was escalating rapidly. He took another step back, his hand hovering near his book as if it could serve as a shield. "Naoya, please," he pleaded, his voice barely above a murmur.

But Naoya didn't hear the desperation in his tone. The anger had taken over, turning his eyes a stormy shade of blue. He took a step closer, his fists clenching at his sides. "You think you can just walk away from this?" he spat, his voice a mix of fury and disbelief. "Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?"

m/n heart raced, his eyes searching for any sign of the person he had once loved in the man before him. "Naoya, please," he said again, his voice shaking. "This isn't good for either of us. We both need some time to think."

But Naoya's anger was a living thing, coiling around them like smoke from an unseen fire. "Think about what?" he snarled, stepping closer still. "Think about how you can't trust me? How you think I'd ever hurt you?" His hand shot out, grabbing the reader's wrist, his grip painfully tight.

m/n flinched, trying to pull away, but Naoya's hold was like a vice. "Naoya, please," he gasped, his eyes wide with fear. "You are hurting me."

Naoya's eyes narrowed, his grip tightening. "You think I don't know what you've been thinking?" he said, his voice low and dangerous. "You've been pulling away for weeks. Do you have someone else?"

m/n's heart hammered in his chest, his mind racing to find the right words. "It's not about that," he said, his voice shaking. "It's about us, Naoya. We're not good for each other like this."

Naoya's grip on m/n's wrist tightened, his eyes flashing with rage. "Don't lie to me," he spat, leaning in so close that their noses almost touched. "You've been seeing someone else, haven't you?"

m/n's breath hitched in his throat, his eyes wide with shock and fear. He tried to shake his head, but Naoya's grip didn't allow it. "No, Naoya," he managed to choke out. "I haven't. Please, you're hurting me."

But Naoya was beyond the point of reason. His eyes searched m/n's face, desperation and anger melding into one volatile cocktail. Without warning, he yanked m/n closer, their bodies colliding. m/n stumbled, his mug of coffee slipping from his hand and shattering on the floor. The sound of porcelain breaking seemed to echo through the room, the scalding liquid splattering across their shoes. The other patrons looked over, a mix of curiosity and alarm on their faces, but no one dared to interfere.

Naoya's hand was around m/n's throat now, his thumb pressing into the delicate skin. m/n's eyes watered as he struggled to breathe, his hands clawing at Naoya's wrist. "Tell me the truth," Nate growled, spittle flying from his lips. "Who is it?"

m/n's eyes searched the room, desperate for help, but the coffee shop patrons had retreated to their corners, their eyes averted from the scene unfolding before them. His vision began to blur, and he knew he had to act fast. He brought his knee up sharply, connecting with Naoya's groin. Naoya's grip loosened with a pained grunt, and m/n took the opportunity to wrench himself free, stumbling backward.

Naoya doubled over, clutching his crotch with a snarl of pain. "You fucking...," he managed, his voice strained. m/n took a step back, his chest heaving as he tried to regain his breath. "You think you can just leave me?" Naoya's voice was a mix of agony and rage as he straightened, his eyes never leaving the reader's.

m/n own anger began to boil over. "You're the one who's making this impossible," he shouted back, his voice echoing in the suddenly quiet coffee shop. "You're the one who can't control yourself. Who can't handle the truth!"

Naoya's hand shot out again, grabbing m/n's shirt and yanking him closer. m/n's eyes blazed with a mix of fear and determination as he shoved Naoya away with all his strength. Naoya staggered back, knocking over a nearby chair with a clatter. The barista called out a warning, but the two men were lost in their own tumultuous world.

"Don't touch me," m/n spat, his voice shaking. "You're not going to bully me into staying with you."

Naoya's face contorted into an ugly sneer, the rage in his eyes burning hotter than the coffee that now stained the floor. He took a step forward, his hands balled into fists. "You think you can just walk away?" he roared, his voice echoing through the coffee shop. The other patrons had gone silent, their conversations stilled by the explosive tension that hung in the air.

m/n took a step back, his own anger rising to meet Nate's. "I've had enough of this," he said, his voice firm. "I don't want to fix things if it means living in fear of your temper."

Naoya's eyes narrowed, his hand flexing into a fist. "You think you're so above this?" he sneered. "You think you can just leave me like I'm some sort of disposable toy?"

m/n felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead as he took another step back. "This isn't about pride, Naoya," he said, his voice shaking. "It's about respect. And right now, you're not showing any."

Naoya's face twisted into something almost feral, and m/n could see the muscles in his arms tensing. "You want respect?" he yelled, his fist slamming down onto the counter, making the coffee cups jump. "You'll get it when you admit you're mine!"

m/n's eyes filled with a mix of anger and despair. This wasn't the Naoya he had fallen for, the sweet, gentle soul who had whispered poetry into his ear during those early morning study sessions. This was a monster, a shadow of the person he used to know. "Let go of me," he said, his voice low and firm.

#anime x male reader #dark blog #dark content #male reader #bottom male reader #jjk #jjk x male reader #naoya zenin #naoya #naoya x male reader #Naoya Zenin x male reader

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kpop---scenarios · 11 hours ago

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Whispers Of The Night (4)

Pairing: Stray Kids x Reader

Genre: Vampire! Au, College! Au

Warning: Not much, next chapter will be smut. This is an 18+ ONLY story; MDNI

Summary: You just want to live a happy life, but currently, that wasn't happening. It's not until you meet 8 strangers who turn your life upside down and you discover what they are.

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: as always, thank you @skzdust for putting up with me sending you paragraphs all the time and giving input. I'd be lost without you!

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS

Taglist: @steddie-steddie @hongtyong @purple-bell @deadpool15 @purplelady85

Everything Taglist: @wife2straykidss @piscesrising01 @baby-stay92 @kisses-too-the-moon

@dwaekkiiracha @silly250 @rylea08 @imperfectlyperfectprincess1

@satosugu4l @gabriellamarie @tsunderelino @iovecb97 @1810cl @lordmaahes-nsc @sailorkoss @minh0scat @pixie0627 @50-husbands @jinnies-muse

@yaorzu-blog @anskiiz @joyofbebbanburg @number1jeonginstan

@skzooluvr @jisunglyricist @ambersnowxxx @ayyonoona

@31maze13 @stay-tiny-things @thegingerthatwaited

@hoesheez @stayatinykatsy @catlove83 @jeonginstulip

@kaleigh-2002 @honeycombbaybee @hyuneyeon @flylis

@kpop-choco @chloe-elise-2000 @eastjonowhere @stephanieeeyang

@nightmarenyxx @0325tiny

“I was…there…then…Jeongin…” you mumble to yourself, pacing around your room. “And then I was here. Ugh!” You groan, throwing your hands up in the air. You distinctly remembered standing on the front porch with Jeongin, staring into his eyes, but why were you staring into his eyes? What happened after? How can you not remember the rest of the night? Did you black out? Can weed even make you blackout? No, you were sure that wasn't even a possible thing.

There was only one thing you could possibly do. Confront Jeongin. You skipped getting dressed, leaving your room in your sleep shorts and tank top, practically stomping down the stairs.

“Jeongin!” You yell, stopping in the kitchen. You look around, seeing him standing in the living room, alone, like a deer in headlights. “You!” You yell, stomping towards him.

“Yes?” He asks, smiling sweetly.

“What did you do to me last night?” You asked.

“What are you talking about?” He chuckles.

“We were standing on the porch, I remember staring into your eyes… then I woke up in my bed this morning.” You say, crossing your arms.

“Yeah? You were talking to me, absolute gibberish by the way, and then you just, like, passed out.” He explains. “So I took you upstairs and put you to bed.” He says, shrugging his shoulders.

“I don't remember that.” You say.

“You were pretty high.” He laughs.

You never lost your memory from smoking weed, but to be fair it had been quite a while since you'd smoked so maybe it was because your body wasn't used to it anymore.

“Huh.” You murmur. You weren't sure if he believed him, but you'd accept it, for now. “Okay. Thanks.” You finish, turning around to walk away.

You headed back upstairs to get dressed for the day, needing to get to the library to study for your upcoming test. You needed the quiet. You had tried to study at the house the other day, but watching those 8 men walk around the house, sometimes shirtless, was extremely distracting.

Thankfully, there weren't many people in the library. You picked a table out of the way, setting up your laptop. You pulled out your headphones, your phone and your textbook, ready to get to work. You were going to fail this exam, you just knew it. You desperately needed to study. And you tried. But your brain could not stop racing about the men who you lived with. There was something off about them, their pale skin, piercing eyes, extreme strength. Not to mention they're much more rowdy at night time, and the fact that you had never seen them eat a single thing. Your mind immediately goes to vampires, but that couldn't be right. There's no way that vampires could be a thing right now and no one was talking about it.

With your brain spinning, you closed the empty Google docs tab, and instead opened up Google. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard as you heavily debated on whether or not you should actually type the word into the search engine. You felt stupid thinking that they could be vampires, but that was the only plausible explanation for the weirdness that was in that house. Taking a deep breath, you typed it in, and more information that you expected popped up within seconds. You clicked the first link, scanning the page, but it didn't give you much. You scrolled through a few other pages but there was nothing that hadn't been talked about before, until, you were just about to exit the page you were on when a single word caught your eye.

Compulsion.

Just as you were about to read more, a familiar voice calls out to you. “Y/N. Why are you reading about vampires?” He says. You quickly close your laptop, turning around to see Mark standing there.

“What do you want?” You ask, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Why are you googling vampires?” He asks, pulling a chair out from the table to sit with you.

“Why are you sitting at my table? And why do you care?” You sigh.

“Because I love you. And I want to get you back. So I figured I'd take interest in your interests.” He grins.

“It's a little too late for that, Mark. I'm going to tell you right now, I won't ever be getting back together with you.” You laugh. “That's so far off the table, it's burning in hell. Now go away.”

“Y/N, come on.” He sighs. “There has to be something I can do to make you trust me again.”

“There's nothing you can do. I don't want you anymore. I'm not sure why you can't get that through your thick fucking skull.” You half yell. You can hear people turning in their chairs to look at you. You let out a breath, trying to calm yourself down. “Look, Mark. We tried, and it didn't work out. You're not ready for a relationship because you can't be faithful. So stop it and leave me alone.” You finish, starting to pack up your belongings.

Mark mutters swear words under his breath. “Y/N..” He starts. You ignore him, continuing to finish packing your things. “Y/N, stop.” He says. “Fuck, I asked you to stop.” He shouts, grabbing your arm. You stare at him, your eyes darting between his hand on your arm and him.

Before you can tell him to release you, you feel someone standing beside you. You look up, seeing Hyunjin standing there, clenching his jaw. “If you want to keep that arm, you better fucking let go of her.” He snaps.

“Oh yeah? She's my girlfriend, I can do whatever the fuck I want.” Mark says, standing up, his hand still on your arm.

Hyunjin laughs. “She's not your girlfriend. You fucked that up, so like I said. Let go of her, before you're down a girlfriend and a fucking arm.”

“Am I supposed to be scared of you, pretty boy?” Mark laughs, looking between you and Hyunjin.

“If I were you..” Hyunjin begins in a whisper. “I'd be fucking petrified.”

“Such bullshit.” Mark grunts, letting go of your arm. “I'll be back!” He yells, pointing to you before walking off.

“Thanks.” You say to Hyunjin, grabbing your bag.

“Can I take you home?” He asks.

You wanted to say yes, but you didn't want to accidentally blurt out what you were thinking or what you had been researching. Not until you read everything you could possibly find, and not until you felt sure of your findings. You can't accuse people of being vampires and not have the information to back up your claims. What if they laughed at you because it wasn't true? So embarrassing.

You contemplated the world you lived in on your way home. Could you really live in a world where vampires exist and no one knows about them? That's one part that was mind boggling to you. Did other supernatural creatures also exist? Werewolves? Mermaids? Your mind was racing with all sorts of thoughts, you hadn't realized that you already had made it home. You stood outside the door, part of you felt a little scared to go inside

but the other part of you didn't care. They were kind to you, they housed you, fed you. They took care of you and protected you. None of them had ever given you a reason not to trust them but you were just so curious about what they were hiding. It had to be that.

You walked into the quiet house, they must all be out. You walk through the living room, stopping in front of a door you've passed countless times but never had been through. You were always curious about what was in the room. You were all alone, so why not? You place your hand on the knob, slowly turning it to open. You pull the door, when suddenly there's a hand on the door, slamming it shut. You jump back, looking at Minho, who stands there, looking angry.

“No.” He deadpans.

“Oh. Is that…” you trail off.

“It's just off limits.” he says.

“I didn't know.” You murmur.

“Now you do.” He smiles, moving his hand and walking away.

You swore no one was here. He came out of nowhere. You take your things, going back upstairs to your room. Settling down on your bed, you pull out your laptop, the page loading to the one you were on before Mark so rudely interrupted you.

“Compulsion” you read. “the ability of vampires to control the minds of others, often through eye contact. Compelled beings typically follow the vampire's instructions, which can include erasing memories, developing new skills, or creating new personalities.”

You sit back. Staring at the wall. Breathing. “Erasing memories.” You whisper to yourself. Was that what Jeongin did to you? Did he erase your memory of that night? Did something happen that could have outed him? You turned your computer around, laying down on your stomach, determined to do more research on the subject as a whole. Hours pass as you click link, after link, after link. Finally you ended up on a blog page called “Just Vampire Things.” The entire thing was clearly not a legit page, it was cutesy, colorful and honestly not very vampirey. You were giggling at the photos as you scrolled down, now more so just enjoying the obvious photoshopped pictures, until you got to the writing.

“How to kill a vampire.” You whisper. “What the…” you pause, reading a little more. “This page is for vampire hunters, learning how to kill vampires. First you need a sharp oak steak.” You rolled your eyes and as you were about to close the page, your bedroom door burst open, with Changbin skipping into your room.

“How to kill a…” he trails off. He looks at you, worriedly before cracking a big smile. “Are you reading Just Vampire Things?” He laughs. You close your laptop.

“What do you need, world's worst barista?” You ask.

He puts his hand over his heart. “Ouch.” He hisses. “You hurt me. Right there, y/n.” He says, patting his chest. “A few of us have to go out, but there's stuff in the fridge for dinner. Help yourself to whatever.” He says, walking out of your room. You crawl off your bed, heading down into the kitchen quietly. You had thought they all left, but it wasn't until you heard whispers in the living room did you realize that you weren't alone.

“I don't know, Chan.” You hear Jeongin sigh. “I feel like shit. I lied to her, and I don't like it. I don't want her to be mad at me. She saw the blood around my mouth… I panicked.” He says.

“Listen, it will all come out in time. But she just got here. We can't bombard her with all this information right off the bat. She'll run so fucking fast. And that's the last thing any of us want, right?” Chan says.

“No.” Jeongin sighs. “None of us want her to leave.”

“We'll tell her everything. Okay? Just be patient. I gotta go meet the others, just stick to the plan for now.” Chan finishes. You hear the front door closed, and Jeongin letting out a sigh of relief. You don't hear anything else. You walk to the living room quietly, looking around. Jeongin isn't there. Your eyes land on the door again. Them telling you it's off limits only makes you want to go down there even more. You look around one more time, double checking to make sure that he wasn't around. Once you felt like it was safe you quickly and quietly wrapped your hand around the door knob, slowly turning it, pulling it open. You see a set of stairs, leading down into the dark. A strong metallic smell hits your nose, making you nauseous. Your stomach twists as you lift your leg, preparing to take the first step down into the dark. Before you can, you're pushed out of the way, and the door is slammed shut. Jeongin grabs your shoulders, pushing you against the door.

“I thought you were told his room was off limits?” He breathes.

“I didn't think anyone was home.” You whisper.

“You're never here alone, y/n.” He says. “When we tell you something, it's because we're protecting you.”

“Were you protecting me when you compelled me?” You blurt out. Jeongin's eyes go wide.

“I don't know what you're talking about.” He says.

“Don’t lie to me.” You hiss, avoiding eye contact. “I heard you talking to Chan. All of you are hiding something from me and I know what it is.” You say.

“Y/N, you need to stop. You don't know what you're talking about.” Jeongin says. “Look at me.”

“No.” You say, looking away.

“Y/N, look at me.” He says again.

This time you don't answer. But you also don't look at him.

“You're going to do it again.” You finally whisper.

Jeongin grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. “I'm sorry.” He whispers. “There's things we need to talk about of course. And that's one of them. But I swear to you, it won't happen again.” He says.

You look him in the eyes, seeing the sincerity in them. Your eyes scan his face, your body heats up. Fuck. You want him. You know you shouldn't but how could you not? Your mouth parts slightly as you stare into his eyes.

He takes a deep breath. Smirking slightly before he leans forward. He looks to you for approval, you nod your head and he crashes his lips to yours. You've wanted this, from any of them since the day you met them. He slips his tongue into your mouth, while effortlessly lifting you to wrap your legs around his waist. He carries you up the stairs, to what you can only assume is his room, that's never used, never once breaking the kiss. He stands at the foot of his bed, gently tossing you down. You look up at him, biting your lip, while he stares down at you.

“You sure you want this baby girl?” He asks.

You grin as you nod your head.

“Fuck, yes.”

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simp-ly-writes · 1 day ago

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The Assassin's Wife

─────── · · A 'Day of the Jackal' (TV series) FanFic

Pairing: Charles "Jackal" Calthrop x Wife!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: To put it simply, you are the wife of Charles Calthrop having met him at a work event over a decade ago, your romance was story-book perfection up until when you learned he kills people for a living...

─ · · TAGS: second person perspective used, female-pronouns used, fluff and angst, scenes of stalking, blood, violence, injury, guns, and obsessive behaviours, hurt/comfort, arguments, swearing, lying, kissing, the Jackal being a ultra charismatic mf, Marissa (OC), not beta read.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 5,570

─ · · A/N: post number 300! woohoo! soo... I kinda really loved this ask and wrote a whole bunch for it. Be ready for some fluff, angst, and then fluff again!

─────── · ·

─ · · You had been married to your husband, Charles, for well over a decade now. You had met him while attending a work event overseas, your job always had you traveling keeping you from starting any longterm relationships up until you met Charles that faithful night.

─ · · You remember the deep navy blue suit he wore with a light blue dress-shirt underneath. His accessories were silver and by the family signet ring on his finger, you knew him to be coming from wealth and to your surprise as he greeted you with a kiss to the back of your palm, he made his empire himself as he described to you over a few too many glasses at the bar.

─ · · Charles swept you off your feet that night with his lingering looks on your lips, the way he gently held your hand, interlacing your fingers before pulling you outside and to a cab. You remember his touch trailing up your thigh as you gasped at the back of the cab before clearing your throat and placing your head against his shoulder... much like the position you found yourself in currently as you watched your husband sleep, his arm snuggly around your side, head against his bare chest as you traced the various scars across it with curiosity.

Your husband explained to you the multitude of stories on how he obtained each scar and warp of skin as you kissed everyone the same; with love and attention as he had shown you. You simply adored how hard working he was, always away and coming back with that necklace you were eyeing in the market or a surprise vacation. But you couldn't help but miss him, want him with you, and you didn't know if that was selfish of you or not to want him with you constantly when he provided for you with utmost dedication.

─ · · But after so many years of gifts and hugs at the airport as you waved him goodbye. You felt lonely sitting in the parking lot wondering the next time you would see your husband and quite frankly, all of your friends told you he was most likely cheating on you by how often and long he was away without messaging or calling you.

You always waved away their concerns for your wellbeing as you took care of the estate, went to work for a few hours of the day before busying yourself with random hobbies and studying various topics for the off chance Charles would bring it up in conversation during one of his work rants, you liked to call them. Remembering the weight of his head in your lap, the feeling of his soft golden curls running through your fingers as he said every time, without fault, "I'd much rather be here with you, my love." But did he ever fall through with those words? no. But you loved your husband regardless.

─ · · You would always pick him up form the airport when he called the night before, waiting in a sundress with drinks and snacks ready in the car for the long ride back. Charles would place his large hand on your knee as you drove, charming you endlessly with his commentary the whole ride home, "I was beginning to forget just how beautiful you were, had to come back." "What an angel, you are. My guardian angel just meant for me." "You look as raidient as the sun in that dress, my love." "Remind me to kiss you with the same desperation I feel now when we stop."

And like clockwork, you would flush under his loving stare and words before being pulled into bed in an outward display of his love that would leave your legs weak in the morning and him bringing you both up breakfast in bed before presenting you another gift.

You held a tight smile while accepting the gift this time, not wanting to seem ungrateful yet your heart desired the non-material... and it seemed Charles understood this, had been planning something for awhile. You observed the box to be moving and to have... hole in it? You thought to yourself before looking to your husband with shock and confusion as a little bark sounded from inside.

"Charles, darling. You. Did. NOT," you gasp before throwing off the lid as a puppy comes bursting out to your chest, licking your face with gratitude before exploring the bed. Charles picks up the fluffy creature, leading it back to you before sitting near the foot on the bed, massaging your leg gently with a smile, "I know you've been feeling lonely recently and I apologize. I promise that after this next job... I won't have to work as much, this is just the last thing, I promise."

You stare into his eyes for a moment, the puppy wigging in your arms as you pet their head and scratch behind their ears with a subconscious smile growing on your face. "Really?!" you ask excitedly, blinking away tears of hope in your eyes seeing as Charles chuckles softly before you, crawling towards you both and pressing a kiss to the side of your head, catching a kiss on the chin by your new pet as well, "Yes."

─────── · ·

─ · · Charles had actually stayed for longer than you were used to, something about preparing and studying his opponent to strike the best deal. You nodded along, interested but confused on the details of this supposed interaction he had planned as you both walked the dog around the garden property line.

"When we get back, I just have to jot-down the rest of the details before I can join you two for dinner. I picked up your favourite bottle from the market earlier that I was thinking we could share?" You nod, pressing a kiss to his cheek before unclipping your new companion from their leash, watching as they run inside and to their water dish.

Charles's arms wrap around your waist as he presses a kiss to your exposed neck, feeling his smile against your skin, "I love you, darling." You rest your hands atop of his, leaning against his chest and close your eyes, enjoying the warm evenings breeze drifting across both of your forms before taking a deep breath and watching as Charles leaves you and heads to his study.

You get dinner moving, dancing and singing around the kitchen as your puppy runs between your feet, barking cheerfully and trying to dance alongside you. Giggling you pick him up, resting his upper arms on your shoulder as you use them as your partner, spinning and twirling towards the living before placing them in their back in their bed.

Your phone goes off as you rush back to the stove and take the tray out and leave it to cool in front of an open window before cutting the bread. "Smells divine in here," you jump, starting and nicking yourself on the knife, cursing softly as you watch the blood drip from the small cut with a wince before heading towards the sink.

Charles is distraught at the sight of you bleeding, taking quick long strides over to your form, holding your elbow gently as he inspects the small nick, "I'm so sorry," he mumbles a few times between kisses to your face before he moves to get the first-aid kit underneath the skin, patting the counter for you to sit upon as he stands between your legs and dresses the cut.

You smile at how softly he touches you, apologizing as you wince at the solution to cleanse the cut before kissing the bandaged finger afterwards. "I'm quite alright, Charles. Just a minor thing-" you begin to explain yet your husband just shakes his head, annoyed with myself. "I shouldn't have distracted you, got you hurt in the first place, I hate seeing you with this," he holds up your hand in front of both of your faces.

You press your forehead against his own, closing your eyes, "Charles, my love. I would forgive you even if you shot me. No need to worry," You joke in a loving tone- not understanding to the way the Jackal tenses feeling your touch. Visions of your corpse flashing before his eyes with life-like accuracy as he begins to feel queasy, shaking in your hold.

You pull away once feeling him start to breath heavily. His touch falling from your hand to grip the kitchen counter, knuckles turning white as he sees you look up at him with tear-covered eyes, his hand shakes with the trigger- "Charles?" you call out softly, hand hovering over his cheek, feeling as he flinches at the touch, taking a step away while shaking his head to himself before appearing... scarily calm again.

You watch as he smiles, brings up dinner and walks past whatever... episode he seemingly just had as if it had never happened in the first place... a mere fragment of your imagination. You furrowed your brows, jumping down from the kitchen counter before filling up both your plates and following Charles out to the patio where a table set with candles was prepared for you both.

Your heart tremors in your chest, watching as he pulls out a chair for you before pushing you in and seating himself. Pouring glasses of wine for you both with a cheers you gulp down the liquid quickly before gently placing the glass back down on the table and taking a bite of your food, debating weather or not to bring up what had just happened or not.

You ultimately decide not too, enjoying this moment that has been few and far between in recent months as your husband charms you like the first day you met, with coy smiles and charming words that have you falling into his arms and back into bed where you rest upon his chest, listening to his heart beating for you once more.

─────── · ·

─ · · Your friends call you in the morning as you invite them over before telling Charles, you rush towards his office in case he is still undressed for they all would be coming shortly to use the pool.

Knocking at the door, his voice invites you in to see the puppy in his lap as Charles fixes his glasses, looking up from the documents scattered across his desk to you with a loving smile and crinkled eyes, "good morning my love, I'm sorry I was not there to wake you."

You wave a hand on his face walking over and pulling him in for a kiss before looking over the papers and blueprints curiously, hand hovering over the smear of red ink against the corner of a crumpled page before Charles' voice redirects your attention with a hand to your hip, giving a gently squeeze, "was there something you wanted to say?"

"Oh, yes!" you jump back to your previous thoughts watching as he turns away from the desk, the dog jumping off his lap and running down the hall leaving the seat empty. You stare for a moment debating, knowing that if you sit down you might not be ready in time. The Jackal did not care about what you were thinking in the moment though, simply gabbing you by your waist and allowing you to fall into his lap.

"Marissa and my other friends are coming over shortly to use the pool, I just thought to let you know beforehand so you could get ready as well," you explain, playing with the buttons to his creme linen shirt listening to him hum. "I'm afraid that I still have-" you look at him with pleading eyes, hand brushing against the skin of his chest and trailing down, watching as the words die on his lips, "...alright. I'll be there shortly."

You quickly stand back up with a smile, cheering happily listening to him laugh before rushing back to your wardrobe to pick a swimsuit and throw-over for the occasion.

─────── · ·

─ · · A knock sounds at the door that has you nearly falling down the stairs and rushing to hug your guests. Marissa squeals in your ear, wrapping her arms around your shoulders as you both swing side to side. She presents you a bottle of wine and a platter of fresh fruits which you bring out to the deck, showing your guests to where the fridge and restrooms were.

─ · · You feel overjoyed having the house filled and to see the dog running around and jumping after their toys in the pool. You lean back in a lounge, soaking up the sun before a shadow overtakes the warmth. You peel up your sunglasses, as Marissa tits her head to the side, mouthing, follow me. You raise a brow in question but follow her nevertheless into the pool house in which she quickly closes the door and shuts the blinds on both of you.

"Marissa?" you call out her name, squinting through the darkness before flicking on the light," Is everything alright?" you ask again watching as her smile wavers, hands shaking as she moves to grip your own. "I think it's best for you to sit before I say anything..." her thumbs brush against the back of your hands soothingly, your heart races- debating of weather or not to quickly grab Charles for whatever news you were about to be it with.

Seemingly knowing your thoughts, Marissa shakes her head, taking a seat beside you on a stack of spare cushions for your outdoor furniture. "This is about Charles," she explains- you debate weather or not to roll your eyes. "Of course it is. What news do we have this time?" you ask, feeling irritated as you side your hands away from her touch. She looks at you for a moment before sighing, "I know you feel as though I am in the wrong for calling out your relationship and maybe I am, maybe I'm not but I only want you to be safe and happy... you're my best friend, hun and I don't want to see you get hurt."

You nod smiling, "same goes to you-"

"Yes," Marissa cuts you off, playing with her hair, "thats why I'm telling you that your husband isn't who you think he is." She bites her lip, waiting on your reaction. You lean your head forwards, "go on?" wanting to indulge in another one of her 'stories.' She cuts right to the chase.

"He kills people." You gasp, standing up and shaking your finger, "No, NO, Marissa! That is too far this time!" you stomp your way towards the door, shoulders rising upwards and tight, I can't believe she has the audacity to say such a thing. "PLEASE," Marissa runs up, gripping your arm, nearly on her knees begging, "let me explain... I-I have evidence." Your heat drops at her sincerity, the way her large tearful eyes grip your own, forcing you to take a seat again as she pulls open her phone- your hand flying to your mouth in shock.

You look at the various articles she has saved to her camera roll, the dates of the murders lining up with the most recent trips of your husband. "This could only be a coincidence right?" Marissa does not say a word, simply flipping her phone horizontally and pressing play to a news broadcast recording:

"Witnesses have identified the assassin to be a 6ft male with an athletic build. Crime investigators have released the following identikit based upon multiple accounts and ask that if you have any information on where the killer is or where they plan on going to contact local and world police immediately for the safety of the greater public."

You feel sick, head falling between your knees as you shake and cry, knowing that illustration to be hauntingly similar to the love of your life... or so you thought him to be.

Marissa rubs your back in soothing circling motions before looking towards the door and whispering her next words to you carefully, "Please, come with me tonight. Say that something happened with my family and that I need your support. We'll pack and bag and get you out," you nod along, lost in your thoughts and not quite catching her words- ears ringing from overstimulation, the clothes on your body soon feel to hot as you grip your skin in panic.

"I-I he wouldn't lie to me this way... he said he-he loved me?" you hiccup in between cries, now walking around in circles within the small space- wavering on the line of hysteria. "I have to go talk to him, this is a misunderstanding, they have the wrong accounts, they, they..." you shake your head, trying to clear your mind to no avail.

Marissa stands, gripping your shoulders, shaking you, begging you to listen to her, "Please, stay with me for tonight at least. I don't feel safe leaving you here with him, not with what we both know... he could kill us if he knows... we know..." You fall over, back into the cushions, your head feeling to heavy for your body as your spots of black start to cloud over your vision. "M-Marissa?" you beg for what you don't know as she hugs you, begging you to stand and move with her.

"Please, we have to go now. Stop the tears, we must leave-"

"I-I can't!" you shout before watching as her eyes widen, the sounds of the other guests dying down from your outburst. A knock sounds at the door, your heart drops... you both allow a moment to pass before another knock sounds, more rushed and heavy against the wood, "my love? are you alright in there?"

Charles. You and Marissa both share a look, you swallow deeply- clearing your throat, "I'm alright Charles, just an wardrobe malfunction." You hear as your... husband chuckles, "alright, I have a plate of food waiting for you by the pool."

"Thank you, darling!" you shout back before hearing as his footsteps become distant. You let out a breath you didn't know to be holding as Marissa pulls you up, wiping your face with her towel, determination in her eyes. "We. are. leaving." You nod, not trusting your words as you follow her outside, wincing at the light coming into your eyes and heart.

─────── · ·

─ · · You walk swiftly pass the crowd and upstairs, throwing the closet open to find a duffle bag as you begin to pack a weeks worth of clothes. You stop yourself from grabbing one of Charles shirts to sleep in, your fingers twitching as your heartaches, you bite your lip to conceal a cry as your eyes well before turning towards the ensuite bathroom.

You startle bumping into a chest as arms steady you, hand brushing against your cheek as Charles stares down at you- worry clouding over his eyes as he takes in the sight of your tears. "Whats wrong?" he asks quietly, brushing your hair as you shake in his hold... knowing what those hands have done. You close your eyes, allowing yourself to relax in the memory of his touch before pulling away and heading towards the bathroom.

Charles stands there still where you left him, glaring at his reflection in the mirror of the closet before turning around determined to find out whatever or whomever made his darling wife cry. He leans against the doorframe watching as you grab a hairbrush and a few hair ties before brushing past him and throwing them into your luggage- hands shaking as you zip it closed and place it over your shoulder.

But just before you can reach the door, Charles picks you up in his arms, you scream, and places you on the bed- standing at the foot with his arms crossed. "Running away from our issues only prolongs them. What. is. wrong?" he asks, muscles flexing as he forces himself not to physically comfort you seeing as you flinch from every slight sound you hear. Who scared you? What do I need to do in order to protect you? The Jackal thinks to himself, foot tapping in wait.

You sound out the party happening down stairs, focusing solemnly on your breathing, "I-I have to help Marissa with somethings. Her family, things went badly and she needs me?" you try and lie yet your words appear more like a question.

Your husband sighs, head tilting to the side as he analyzes your form, eye twitching... no, she couldn't know that. I've hid it well and no one else would know in the slightest... You watch every small expression tick over his features, shifting in your spot watching as he does the same, mirroring your movements- you feel trapped knowing that Charles was not going to let you leave... not without the truth nevertheless.

You look outside, hoping to catch Marissa's eyes to come and save you yet can see no sights of her. Your bag drops to your feet as you grip your hair, Am I ready to die? You ask yourself, thoughts automatically going to the darkest parts of your mind before you suddenly remember your conversation last night in the kitchen...

─────── · ·

Shit, you think to yourself... his prior actions all making sense now. You timidly look into his eyes, purposefully trying to make yourself appear small... make him feel the heart you have loved ever-so dearly up until this point, and to some degree, you still do for the years of affections you both have shared.

"Tell me what you know," The Jackal asks calmly, your blood runs cold as he stares down at you, nose twitching, eyes daring you to try and lie again to him.

You open and close your mouth, unsure of what to say before letting lose knowing that you were not making it out of this room no matter what so you might as well do it with morals and truth. "I know you kill people," you begin to say.

The room is dead silent as you both stare into one another's eyes, "Tell me that you don't," you whisper, tears silently falling down your cheeks that you do your best to try and blink away resulting in only more coming. Yet in your husbands move not to answer you provides you with the most deafening answer yet... he does.

You shake your head, nails digging into your palms, threatening to break skin. You flinch again to his touch, feeling as the Jackal gently pulls your fingers away from hurting yourself- your heart hammers in your chest like a drum, you know he can hear it to by the way his head falls. "Tell me that you don't," you whisper-shot, shaking your head, confused as to how the soft and intelligent man you fell in love with, that you married and planed to have children with... kills people.

"I kill people for money," the Jackal whispers quietly, a part of hoping that you do not hear his words, that you would return to your smiling and loving self, taking him back with open arms- unknowing once more yet you understand what he says, "Listen to yourself and say it again," you demand of him.

The Jackal removes his touch, taking in a shaky deep breath, closing his eyes as his hands shake down by his sides into fists, you slowly crawl back on the bed, "I kill people for money," he says a bit louder. You scoff into a cry, "say it again."

"I kill people for money," the Jackal states picking up his head to look you in the eyes, his heart breaks seeing your tears, watching as you flinching when he moves to brush them away. You'e afraid of me, Charles thinks to himself. I've failed to protect you, the Jackal thinks to himself. You are shaking in your spot, "say it again, say it-"

"I KILL PEOPLE FOR MONEY. Is that what you want to hear? Is that enough? Is it enough?" The Jackal snaps at you before falling to his knees, head in your lap as an offering. You feel the way he grips your sides, sobbing into your skirt, pleading for you to love him. Yet you just stare forwards, looking out to the sun and all the people downstairs, your eyes catch Marissa's as you stand, his body rolling off of yours as he stays collapsed against the floor watching as you slowly pick up your bag and close the door on him.

─────── · ·

─ · · You felt disgusted for not being able to go to the police about your husband... or well ex-husband. You sent the divorce papers in at Marissas request after your first month out on the run from your heart but no matter where you seemed to go, what disguises or excuses you used when he would just find your new phone number again, you still loved him.

─ · · A part of you knew deep within that not every moment you shared together could be a lie. He trusted you to sleep beside him, to cook for him, to be his confidant to his "work rants," and spent his pay check on you... but he kills people... you think to yourself, 'only the bad people, promise,' you remember him telling you via letter to your mailbox during your first week in Australia where Marissa left you before returning back to Spain. You shake your head, confused with yourself; head and heart competing...

But when you saw golden locks out of the corner of your eye, green-eyes hidden behind tinted shades and tall muscular body draped in a fine linen suit... it would be an understatement to say you folded in the first seconds and fell back in love in the first moment when he picked up your hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it and refused to let go, intertwining your fingers together on the table as he payed for lunch and all your drinks without a second thought.

And when it started to rain in Amsterdam where you were currently "hiding out," he draped his jacket over your shoulders and picked you up so that your feet wouldn't get wet in all the puddles and potholes. Carrying you all the back to the apartment you were renting, waiting at the door for you to invite him inside and you did.

─ · · You watched as he unbuttoned and rolled up his sleeves to his forearms, veins flexing across his skin as he clenched and unclenched his hands when you moved past him to sit distantly on the couch. He thought about the comforting pressure of you on his lap, the feeling of your head on your shoulder and your lips against his own. He wanted nothing more than to feel your skin against his skin, to get a taste of you once more... but he allowed you space, for now... until things are safe... until the job is done, Charles thought to himself, taking a sip out of the tea you prepared for you both.

─ · · After some catching up on both of your sides, your concern grew not only for yourself and your safety, but for your husbands as he was being pinned down on two fronts. One by the police, the other by his target and his men... a part of you knew that your safety did relay on the Jackal getting his work done and knew that from you not going to the police right away, not protecting the 'public', you were in some part just as guilty as he- a participant... "let me help you.... please." And the Jackal nodded.

─────── · ·

─ · · Returning to Spain, the Jackal gave you a series of instructions and lists of where secret rooms, weapons, and security lockdown procedures he had installed for a moment that you had no clue existed before and never would have.

─ · · You shiver at how precisely Charles can check the various weapons on himself, flipping knives in his boots, checking his magazines and checking the sights down the barrel of his gun before giving you a kiss and telling you to go sit in the bedroom upstairs with the dog, waiting to flip a switch in the wardrobe at his request to cut all the power to the house through your earpiece.

You nodded, pulling him in for a second kiss, lingering before pulling away slightly and kissing all the way across his cheek to his ear, whispering, "live for me." You didn't receive a response, only a pat at your hit, silently demanding you to move as you pick up your furry companion and closed the bedroom door, putting on a record just like intersected... sitting still and looking pretty and innocent, just waiting on your husband to return.

─────── · ·

─ · · You didn't bother to look at the clock, watching as the minutes ticked over and the dog laid asleep at the foot of the bed. Your fingers running across the soft fur of their back only to startle as you hear your front door be blasted through and two pairs of boots stomp their way into your home. Your breath hitches as you quickly stand and look at the window seeing no addition people in the tree line.

You double check to ensure your door is closed before pressing down on your ear, listening closely for your queue... "Do you hear me darling?" Charle's soft tone floods your ear, you can hear him taking shallow long breaths in and out, most likely hiding somewhere in the walls. "yes," you whisper, starting to make your way into the closet- waiting... "flick the switch, gorgeous." Lights out!

─ · · You are suddenly surrounded in darkness as you tip toe your way back to the bed and place yourself on top of the covers, scrolling through your phone once hearing their boots near the door. The dog shuffles by your feet but does not move as the door creaks open and two flashlights are shined in your eyes, causing you both to stand alert. "HANDS UP!" a woman shouts, you wave your hands in the air. "P-please don't hurt me! Take whatever you want from the house!" you beg, tears starting to drown across your cheeks as you work to distract the women. "Please!" you beg over and over again dramatically, falling to your knees as your hands press against her boots.

"I'm here to protect you ma'am, just do as I say and we will have no issues," the woman in uniform tells you- you nod your head. "Stand," she demands and you oblige, rising to your feet and grabbing your pet in your arms. "Do you have any idea what your husband does?" she questions you, moving you both towards Charle's study and telling you to sit at his desk. You nod your head, hearing as her breath hitches, "he works in global sales for an insurance company," you explain.

"I can show you the new logos?" you ask confusing the woman. "No, I don't care about that... you are married to Charles Calthrop, correct?" You nod your head again, "Yes, that is my husband." The floor suddenly creaks down the hall, the woman turns around sharply, flashlight pointing down the hall as you hide underneath the desk in preparation yet hear no rounds fired.

Looking up slowly, the room and the hall now appear empty as you listen to boots run down the hall and turn down the stairs into the living room. "Stay where you are," Charles demand comes through your ear, "okay," you whisper, holding onto the dog closely as you brace, listening to the distant conversation and then... BANG... a pause... BANG BANG. Another two shots sound and then... silence once more.

"Good girl, you did your work perfectly, my love," Charles praises you before telling you to come downstairs with the luggage for you both. You feel as your husband quickly pulls you in for a hug, caressing your head in an effort for you not to see the body behind him. You feel as he kisses the top of your head, "All ready to go?" he asks you.

"I'm ready," you respond with determination.

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: no part 2's to this one!

─ · · JACKAL TAGLIST: @swiftietevitdrewjew @groovyponypatrollamp @alelo23 @apaperflowerreader @itz-stuts

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mylovesstuffs · 17 hours ago

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Joshua is THAT type of boyfriend

This is my personal opinion and perspective. It may not accurately reflect their real-life personalities or behaviors.

A/N: Sorry, I got carried away and made it too long TT.

Joshua isn't just a sweet talker, he’s a menace with his words. Imagine him leaning in with that soft smirk and his warm eyes as he whispers, “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen,” and you’re not even dressed up—just in sweats. You’d roll your eyes, but your heart? Oh, it’s flipping. And don’t even try to sass back.

Always using terms of endearment like, darling, love, babe.

He's the boyfriend who somehow always wins every argument you guys ever had.

This man would curate the most soul-melting playlists just for you. Love songs, sexy R&B tracks, even songs that remind him of you.

Don’t let the gentleman image fool you. He knows exactly what he’s doing when he gently tugs at your shirt collar, brushing his fingers against your skin as he adjusts it. And the way he smirks when he catches you staring? He’ll lean in and say, “Like what you see?” in that voice, making you combust on the spot.

You’re craving snacks at 11 p.m.? Joshua’s already putting on his jacket. He’ll hold your hand as you wander through the store, teasing you about your odd snack combinations but still buying them all anyway.

He’s the ultimate cuddler. Joshua will rest his chin on your head, his arms securely around your waist, and murmur little nothings that make your heart feel all warm and squishy.

The Protective Gentleman™: Someone dares to make you uncomfortable in public or even in private? Joshua’s usually gentle demeanor shifts in an instant. He’ll place a hand on your waist and give the offender a look so cold they’ll apologize themselves without a word.

Look, Joshua is a giver and overachiever in the bedroom. He’s the type to ask, “Do you like this?” in that deep, husky voice while holding eye contact. And when you can’t even form words? That’s his cue to smirk and go harder, exactly the way he knows you like. He’s all about making sure you’re the one who’s utterly wrecked by the end of fucking.

Joshua is the boyfriend who insists on holding you close whenever you’re cold.

“You’re so smart.” “How do you look this good all the time?” “I’m so lucky you’re mine.” He’s not over the top, but his compliments are so genuine that they leave you smiling for hours. Even if you’re having a bad day, Joshua’s words have this magical way of lifting you up without fail.

He remembers everything. Your coffee order, your favorite way to fold socks, the random anecdote you told him months ago—Joshua stores it all like it’s precious treasure.

Joshua will absentmindedly play with your hair all the time. Whether you’re watching a movie or lying in bed, his fingers are threading through your strands, gently tugging just to make you look at him.

Joshua looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky. He’s the boyfriend who says, “I want to grow old with you,” and you know he means it.

He might be soft-spoken, but the second you start pushing his buttons? You’re done for. His voice drops an octave, and he’s gripping your wrist with just enough pressure to make you stop in your tracks. “Keep testing me,” he’d say, with that calm, terrifying tone that sends shivers down your spine. And when you do, let’s just say you won’t win the next round...

Picture this: Joshua in an apron, trying his best to follow a recipe while sneaking bites of whatever you’re making. Flour ends up on both your faces, and he’s laughing so hard that you forget you burned the cookies. “Let’s just order pizza,” he’d say, pulling you into a hug that makes everything better. (Queue this)

If you’re ever upset, Joshua knows just what to do. He’ll hold you close, his voice will be soft as he reassures you. He doesn’t rush you to feel better; he just stays by your side, offering quiet support and the kind of love that makes you feel safe no matter what.

Joshua isn’t afraid to be goofy with you. He’ll make silly faces, sing off-key just to make you laugh.

Well, he's got the whole church-boy aura, but let’s not be naive here. That glint in his eyes when he’s pinning you against the wall during a heated makeout session is pure sin. He’ll whisper something like, “What would people think if they saw you like this?” just to watch you squirm. And don’t even think about trying to outplay him—he thrives on seeing you flustered.

At concerts, he’ll sneak little glances at you in the crowd and smile like you’re the only person in the world. HE IS UNREAL.

Joshua is the type to trail his fingers over every inch of your skin, memorizing the way you react to his touch. He’ll tilt your chin up gently, his thumb brushing your lower lip before kissing you like it’s his last day on Earth. It’s slow, intense, and leaves you aching for more.

He’s not flashy, but he’ll keep his hand on your lower back or entwine his fingers with yours, squeezing lightly whenever he feels like it.

He doesn’t even need to try to make your knees weak. He’ll be casually helping you grab something from the top shelf in a grocery store and lean down to say something, with a grin that’s way too innocent. Sir, is this a grocery trip or a personal attack?

Late at night, he’ll play the guitar and softly sing while you’re lying on his lap, and boom—you’re gone to heaven.

After he’s made you lose your mind with those sinful kisses, Joshua transforms back into the fluffiest boyfriend. He’s wiping the smudges off your lips with his thumb, kissing your forehead. The duality is WHIPLASH, but are you complaining? No.

When he looks at you, it’s not just attraction; it’s pure adoration. And when he holds you close, you’ll realize that being with him feels like coming home every single time.

Joshua’s the kind of boyfriend who makes you believe in love songs again. His actions, his words, his everything—all of it screams, “You’re my world.”

Yeah, Joshua is THAT type of boyfriend, and honestly, you’re done for. Congratulations on never recovering.

#joshua hong #joshua #joshua seventeen #hong jisoo #seventeen scenarios #seventeen #Joshua is THAT type of boyfriend #joshua x reader #joshua x y/n #joshua svt #joshua scenarios

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junixscribble · 1 day ago

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Sweet Dreams

ALRIGHT this is another one to blame the server for. Some context - this is a bit of a combo of AUs I've seen with my own hcs thrown in. Apologies for the exposition (again).

Title: Sweet Dreams

WC: 1495w

Summary: Life is good in Zaun. Great, even. A normal night turns into something a little sillier.

-----------

It had been over a year since Jayce and Viktor were consumed by the Arcane. In their world life went on, Jayce was grieved, and Viktor was forgotten - those that did remember him could only hold onto the memory of what he became. Piltover grew, completely unbeknownst of a universe just a little to the left, where two men thrived.

The two inventors had set up a repair shop they shared, working out of Zaun. Between them they had developed a filtration system to clean the air that went completely unknown by Piltover, and the Zaunites were happy to keep it that way. Neither were untouched by their experience though. Jayce used a brace more often than not to help with his leg that never healed, and the white fingerprints on his forehead had faded greatly but would never leave.

The Arcane did not want to let go of Viktor that easily, but it seemed to have been decently kind with it. When they landed in a field on the outskirts of the city, Viktor was trapped switching between two forms: his Herald, as they called it, and his human body. It fucking hurt, but settled down and eventually he was able to switch between forms at will. The markings that once covered him like Jayce also faded into pale lavender streaks on his skin, and his lungs no longer gave him grief. He still dealt with pain in his leg, but that was par for the course at this point.

(He also kept his hair long, because he knew Jayce liked it)

(Jayce also kept his beard, because he knew Viktor liked it)

The day had been good - people had come to them with problems ranging from malfunctioning prosthetics to broken toys, all of which had been fixable within an hour. Jayce always sent the toy repairs to Viktor as he was a little better with the fiddly equipment and children seemed to flock to the man. Plus it was very funny watching Viktor figure out what to do with small children.

Viktor wandered into the bedroom in sleep pants with some sweetmilk while Jayce laid in bed and stared directly at the ceiling, eyes open and brow furrowed.

“Jayce, what are you thinking about?” Viktor asked, recognising the look.

“Hmm? Oh. Prosthetic pneumatics. Was I doing the thing where I look like a concerned corpse?” Jayce frowned and Viktor laughed, sitting next to him.

“You were. And you need to stop thinking about work in your downtime.”

“Look who’s talking.”

Viktor tipped his head in agreement. “A fair point. Still, I can’t use you as a pillow if you have gone rigor mortis on me.”

Jayce sputtered a protest at the comparison but raised an arm so Viktor could settle in beside him, which he did. The two read in the quiet together, Jayce gently carding his fingers through Viktor’s hair until a low rumbling noise came from his chest. That had been another discovery made after a few months of switching forms - there were hangovers between each one. The Herald could make a mechanical rumbling noise similar to a purr when content and that carried over to Viktor as well, although with a more organic and quiet sound. Jayce loved that he could tell when his partner was happy and teased him for the cat-like tendency at any opportunity. Not this time though, as he was starting to drift off and couldn’t really be bothered starting a quip-war.

It only took another ten minutes for both of them to put down their books and curl up to drift off together.

…

There was something on his side, and it felt weird. No, there was something on his side, and it tickled. Jayce’s brain woke up in increments at an unholy hour, half aware of something going on on his right side. The feeling moved up higher and he gasped, almost jerking as it brushed under his armpit. He looked to the side to find Viktor, seemingly fast asleep with his hands on Jayce’s torso. They weren’t doing much, just wandering and teasing, but it was enough that Jayce was trying to hold back giggles. He tried gently removing his hands but they came back stronger and more intently, poking into his ribs now.

“Vik, cut it out!” Jayce asked quietly, but it did nothing. He came to the slow realisation that his partner was indeed completely asleep, and obviously having a pretty stupid dream. Viktor still had trouble sleeping and Jayce was not going to be the one to interrupt a good night's rest so he steeled himself to endure the touches, trying to move as little as possible.

This proved to be a challenge. Being asleep, Viktor’s onslaught wasn’t nearly as bad as it was when he was awake but the ghosting of fingers on his sides and belly had him trying desperately not to squirm away and laugh. When both Viktor’s hands started spidering into his armpits it took every bit of self control not to slam his arms down. He couldn’t help but let out a high pitched squeal, after which he immediately checked to make sure Viktor was still asleep.

Jayce endured this feathery, tickly torture without jostling too much for an impressive amount of time. He was strangely proud of himself for holding out against Viktor’s fingers squeezing his stomach at all. One of Viktor’s hands suddenly moved up the back of his sides with precision too exact to belong to a sleeping person, and the fact finally clicked in Jayce’s brain.

“Viktor Talis. Are you awake?” He asked, eyes on Viktor’s face. There was almost no indication he had heard him. Almost. Jayce caught the corners of his mouth twitch upwards, and he knew he’d been had.

“Oh my gods, you little shit you’re going to pay for that!” Jayce threatened, jumping up and pinning Viktor’s arms to the bed. Viktor was wide awake now and grinning at him. He opened his mouth and Jayce shook his head.

“Nope, the only way you’re getting a word in is if you’re laughing.”

With that Jayce let go of Viktor’s arms, pulled back the covers, and squished his hands on either side of Viktor’s stomach. Viktor had half a second to prepare himself before Jayce started munching on his tummy, blowing raspberries all over the place and very ticklishly gnawing on his skin. His first reaction was to nearly shriek before laughing harder than he ever had at Jayce’s nibbling all over. Jayce’s hands got to work too, making sure Viktor’s belly was in the tickle target zone while squeezing and kneading into his sides and lower ribs.

“JAHAYCE! Noho fair!”

“Mmm, tasty!” Jayce teased, nuzzling his beard into Viktor’s stomach and making om nom noises after he spoke. He knew this tickled like absolute hell, and by Viktor’s kicking and cackling he could tell it was working. Pressing kisses and gently using his teeth to scrape across the sensitive skin was driving Viktor wild in new and exciting ways, so Jayce decided on a new game - trace over Viktor’s Arcane markings with his lips and tongue. This made Viktor’s pleading turn into gibberish, eliciting a screech when Jayce’s tongue dipped into his navel.

“Nohohohononoo! Thahat’s ahawful!”

“Oh, would you like to tell me where it tickles the most? We could make an experiment out of it!”

“Hehey, that’s my lihiHIHINE AHAHA!” Viktor tried to cut back but was interrupted by Jayce blowing the biggest raspberry yet right over his navel. It was then that the low rumbling noise started in Viktor’s chest, interspersing with the laughing. Jayce tilted his head to the side in amusement, replacing his mouth with his hands so he could speak.

“Aw, you’re purring!” Jayce said with a smile, hands scribbling over Viktor’s stomach at the speed of light. “You like this!”

Viktor squirmed violently, voice scratching from the purring he couldn’t control. “Jahayce plehease, ihit tickles so bahadly!”

“Alright, alright. Just one more.”

Jayce blew a last raspberry into Viktor’s stomach, using his scratchy beard to get a final yell from his partner before finally relenting. Viktor laid there on the bed, heaving for breath through continuous purring.

“I am covered in your slobber. Gross.” he commented, unable to conjure much more. Jayce snickered and laid down beside him.

“You deserved it.”

Viktor frowned, before he turned to Jayce with an evil grin. “Actually, I don’t think the punishment fits the crime at all.”

Jayce watched as Vitkor’s eyes glowed white with Arcane energy and his body glitched in place, transforming into the incarnation of the divine in living form. Well, that’s how Jayce saw it.

Viktor pinned Jayce down the same way Jayce had done to him, still purring. “You have just started a war, Jayce. I hope you’re prepared for the outcome.”

The hexclaw spun and contracted menacingly over Viktor’s shoulder, and Jayce gulped. This was gonna tickle so bad.

#arcane tickling #jayce talis #viktor arcane #jayvik #lee!viktor #arcane jayce #lee!jayce #arcane tickles #tickling #it is midnight #fuck me I guess here you go

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kiyoors · 1 day ago

Text

bad dream

tsukishima kei x reader

comfort, both tsukki and reader are insecure/self conscious, takes place at the beginning of their relationship, a lot of reassuring, in my mind (and heart) tsukki is an art museum curator and so that is what he is in this fic, pushing my kei being bad at feelings yet totally whipped for reader agenda!!, let me carry him around in my pocket

named and written after ‘bad dream’ by wallows

tsukishima kei grinds his teeth in his sleep. you discovered this the first night you stayed over.

he has his back turned to you, sleeping on his side. lifting yourself on your elbow, you lightly curl your arm around him, moving him to rest on his back.

his jaw is tense where you gently hold your hand against his skin, brows tight together. you smooth out the worry with your thumb and softly whisper his fist name,

“kei?”

even in his subconscious, he still softens at the sound of your voice. this makes you smile, arming you the courage to gently shake him awake.

“were you having a bad dream?”

he groans awake, and a pang of regret rolls over your shoulders, he would have probably been fine if you hadn’t woken him up.

truthfully, tsukishima can’t really remember what he was dreaming about— he’s kind of still processing the fact that you’re in his bed, next to him, the excess length of his t-shirt bunched at your hips.

“you were grinding your teeth,” you explain, now sitting cross legged on his mattress.

kei grunts in acknowledgment; he didn’t know he did that.

he’s a little embarrassed that you’ve caught him like this, flawed and possibly annoying with such a sleeping habit.

“sorry,” he says, curtly, “you can wake me if I keep bothering you.”

“y-“

“I’ll get it checked out,” he finishes, not meaning to cut you off, but at the same time dreading what you could possibly say next.

no one had ever told him he did that in his sleep. then again, he’d never really let anyone share his bed for longer than what was necessary to be considered a polite hook-up before meeting you.

but, you’re not a hook-up. he’s been seeing you for two months now, and he’s hoping to make it much longer if you’ll let him.

he’s not so sure you will after this, though.

“it’s not a bother,” you assure him, looking at him with a softness opposite to the stiffness of his jaw, “was something bothering you? work?”

us?, you dread asking

because in the two months that you’ve been seeing him, he’s kept you at arms length.

he’s been wonderful— he takes you out to dinner, and offers you his arm when you’re walking down the street at night, he’s even bought you that brown leather purse you eyed while window shopping and snuck you into one of the museum exhibits before opening night because he knows you love impressionism and wanted you to be the first one to see his curated work.

but he’s curt and stiff at any one of your first touches, he’s not verbal or very expressive, and you’re worried you might have done something to upset him.

“s’nothing,” he says voice gruff, yet his touch is gentle when he places his palm on your hip, fingers tracing your skin.

kei let’s out a shaky breath trying to steady his heart, you’re still with him in bed, you want to stay, he tells himself

you want to stay with him

the thought makes him smile to himself as he pulls you down to lay with him, tucking you close to his chest.

“sorry i woke you up,” you mumble, hiding your face

he squeezes you tight, nuzzling his nose to the crook of your ear. he kisses your jaw.

“it was a bad dream,” he begins, “thank you for waking me up.”

just like that he soothes your anxieties. tsukishima kei is not exactly verbal with his feelings, and he may be stiff and awkward-limbed at your touch, but he’s warm and reassuring in the way he takes care of you, the way he pays attention to your nervous thoughts and the control he gives you over himself.

he keeps you close to his heart, always, the rest of his body is still getting better at catching up with the speed of it, though.

—

#had this is the drafts for sooooo long #hope you’ve all been well! happy holidays and happy new year <4 #tsukishima kei #haikyuu tsukishima #hq tsukishima #haikyuu tsukki #tsukkishima kei #tsukishima kei x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu #haikyu x reader #jess writes!☆*:.｡. o

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heart4caitlin · 1 day ago

Note

kk arnold fic based off of sailor song

SAILOR SONG / kk arnold

warnings : religious trauma , angst , self doubt , mainly reader focused

pair : kk arnold x fem!reader

wc : 1659

You had grown up in a house where God was the answer for everything. You were hurting? Pray harder. Doubt? Have more faith. You’d learn to obey the word of God, learnt to not go against your parents. You kept everything suppressed, suffocating yourself in so much guilt. You’d never looked at boys a certain way during school, never thought about them.

Until you went to college. But it wasn’t a boy. It was KK Arnold.

KK was extremely vibrant, lighting up every room she walked into with such a contagious laugh and smile. Who wouldn’t fall for her?

The first time the two of you had kissed was on a pier. KK had begged for you to sneak out around midnight to go see her. You remembered how she looked under the moonlight, her skin glowing as she smiled at you.

“Come on.. What’s the worst that could happen?” KK had teased as she leaned against the railing, her hand caressing your cheek.

"I could burn in hell..?" You laugh nervously as you play with the cross sitting around your neck.

KK scoffed, her hand coming up to pull yours down as she leans in closer. "You deserve to be happy.. Even if it's with me." She whispers before pushing her lips against yours, both of your eyes fluttering closed.

You had messed up, of course you did. You hadn't meant to. It had just started with your mom glancing at your phone and seeing your lock screen, a photo of KK smiling on the pier.

"Who is that, Y/n?" your mother had asked eventually, her tone a bit suspicious.

You froze as you stared up at your mom. "A friend."

"You've been spending a lot of time with this friend." Your mother pointed out, her head tilted to the side as she turned back to the counter, going back to cutting vegetables for supper.

"She's just important to me is all," You forced out with a smile, sliding your phone into your pocket.

"You sound like you're in love with her. Which is wrong, you can't love a girl like that." She had spat out, not even turning around to look at you as she rambled on about how wrong it was.

You were silent for a minute before speaking up. "What if I was though?" Your voice barely above a whisper as your mom froze, turning around to stare at you with disbelief written on her face.

"It's not a sin, it's just love." Your voice was trembling as you sat down in one of the chairs, looking down as you played with your cross again, a habit that you picked up.

"It is a sin. You're just confused about all of this. You're only 19 after all, you'll find the perfect man soon enough. I raised you better than this."

"I-I'm not confused though, mama! This is who I am, I-I really do love KK." You snapped, your frustration finally boiling over.

"Do not bring her name into this house ever again." Your father had finally made his entrance, his voice thundering throughout the house, his hand slamming down onto the table making you jump and look over at him.

"We will fix this. Us and the church will pray for you. God will show you the right path." Your mom had joined back in, wiping her hands off on a towel as she steps closer to the table with your dad.

"You don't love her." Your father spat out coldly. "You love your family and God. You will repent for this, Y/n."

You had sat stiffly in the pastor's office, the walls were lined with Bibles, different texts, framed photos of baptisms and weddings. Your mother was sitting next to you holding a tissue for herself, dabbing at her eyes every few minutes. Your father was on the other side of you, his jaw tight and his hands were clasped together.

"Y/n.. Your parents told me you have been struggling recently. I wanted to let you know that God wants you to come back to him." Your pastor had leaned forward on his desk, his hands clasped together in front of him as well.

Your stomach churned, he made it sound like KK were a sin, something bad in her life. You looked down for a split second, your fingernails pressing into your palms before you stared right at him. "I never left him."

The pastor let out a sigh, taking his glasses off and setting them on the table. "I know this may be confusing for you, Y/n... The world is a difficult place, but you know what he says. God's word is the ultimate truth and we are to follow it."

Your mother reached a hand out to your knee as you looked back down again. "We love you, we really do, sweetheart. Don't let this... confusion ruin the beautiful life God has planned for you."

Your pastor cleared his throat, making the three of you look over to him. "In Corinthians, Paul tells us, 'Do you not know that the unrighteous will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived.'" He looked up back at you again. "I don't want that for you. None of us do."

That night you sat alone on your bedroom floor, staring at the cross above your bed, something you've had for years, it being a gift from your parents. It used to comfort you through sad times, now it's presence is suffocating. A constant reminder of what had happened earlier.

You pulled your knees to your chest as sobs fell from you. The constant reminder that they were right, you were just sick, you just needed God to save you again. Tears were covering your cheeks and eventually falling down onto KK's jacket, making even more sobs fall from you.

The next morning was quiet when you awoke. The rays of sunshine filling your room make you wince when you open your eyes. It took you a few minutes to get out of bed and to change into something, deciding on just a pair of jeans and a simple light blue floral shirt. Your heart ached when you reached for your bedroom door, taking a deep breath before opening it and walking out, making your way to the kitchen.

Both of your parents were in the kitchen, their talking stopping once they saw you. Your mother was at the counter holding a mug in her hand while your father was at the table, his bible open with notes next to it.

You nodded towards them before walking over and grabbing a glass and pulling out a tea bag, your back facing them.

"We still need to speak, Y/n." Your father said, making you freeze for a few seconds.

"I don't think there's anything else left to say." You refused to turn around just yet.

"There's a lot left to say. We will not sit here and watch you throw your life away just for some.. some girl."

"God has a life planned out for you, sweetheart. You're shutting him out, don't do this. Don't throw your life away."

Your silence only seemed to spur your father on even more. "Do you think this is easy for us?" he demanded. "Do you think we want to be sitting here having this conversation with you? We care about you, that is why we're here doing this. We are trying to save you, Y/n. You can come from this, it is not too late for that." Your fathers voice softened just a bit.

You stared at them in silence, your eyes filling with tears. You wanted to believe them. So bad. But you also wanted to love. You swallowed hard, forcing your words back down as you turned away from them and heading to the door.

"Y/n... Don't walk away from us." Your mother had pleaded, her voice cracking as she looked towards you. You paused for a moment, considering if it was worth it. "I'm sorry.." You whispered before walking out, your mom crying in the background as your father comforts her.

The walk to KK's apartment felt incredibly long, it only being around ten minutes though. You hesitated for a second when going to knock, debating if you should go back so KK didn't have to see you in such a mess.

You knocked softly twice before the door had opened, KK stood there with her hair pulled back with her uconn sweatshirt and shorts, her face lighting up when she saw you—before falling into concern.

"Y/n? What happened? Are you okay?" KK stepped forward, her hand reaching out towards you and helping you in the house, locking the door behind you.

You went to open your mouth to speak but no words came out, your throat felt tight as tears welled in your eyes again. “I… I can’t do it anymore, KK.. They all hate me.. m-my parents, the pastor. They think I’m broken and need help.”

KK’s face crumbled, a frown taking place on her as she grabbed your hands. She pulls you to the couch and sits down, pulling you so close next to her. “Baby.. You’re not broken, you’ve never been broke. Don’t listen to them at all. They don’t truly know you like I do. You’re amazing. Don’t let them do this to you, my love.”

Your lip quivered as you sniffled. “I’m so tired, KK.. I’m so tired of fighting for myself.”

KK nodded at you, pulling you closer to her chest as she pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I know baby.. I know.. But I’m here every step of the way, screw them, okay? Move in with me or something. I love you so much.”

KK held you for what felt like hours, her sweatshirt covered in tears but she didn’t mind. You were here in her arms.

a/n : this is very ummm self indulgent kinda?? i did grow up in a religious family but not quite like this!! this is the longest fic i’ve posted on here too YAY

taglist : @mrsarnold @guiltyascaitlin @sweetluna20

#heart4caitlin #kk arnold x reader #kk arnold #kk arnold x fem!reader #kk arnold x black!reader #kamorea arnold #kamorea arnold x reader #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #uconn women’s basketball #lesbian #wlw #paige bueckers x fem reader

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selunesdreams · 1 day ago

Text

Chapter 15: Baggage

“Sorry about your dinner plans.” Rook murmured as Lucanis fell in step beside her. “I can make you dinner any time,” he said with a grin. “Never apologize for ending a meal early to kill Venatori.” “After what they did to you and Spite, to Neve and the Shadow Dragons, to Minrathous…” Rook reached down and squeezed his hand. “I intend to cleanse Tevinter of every single one.” WANT TO WATCH ROOK KILL . AND THEN- Lucanis’ skin heated as she let go of his hand, forging ahead to give directives. He kept a careful distance as Spite ranted and raved in his mind about all the things he could do to Rook, some things he wasn’t even certain he knew how to do…

Pairing: Lucanis x Fem Rook/OFC x Spite???

Summary: Fiamma recalls her final night at Villa Dellamorte, Lucanis uses food to show appreciation while Spite would prefer other methods, Rook does her best to stomach an encounter with the Venatori while rescuing kidnapped Dalish, and Solas becomes suspiciously cooperative.

Word count: 3.8k

Things of note/warnings: 18+ fic, MDNI! Blood of Arlathan quest. warnings: ritual/innocent animal sacrifice, mild sexually/physically aggressive Illario, horny Spite, yearning (but oblivious) Lucanis, Solas. Please read on AO3 if you need to track warnings, they will be inevitably detailed better there (or just want to be real sweet and give me hits/kudos/comments).

─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───

As Fiamma sorted through Caterina’s mail with gloved hands, her fingertips hesitated over an envelope bearing no Crow letterhead or seal. Unfamiliar penmanship scrawled her name in dark ink, and while Viago would immediately suspect an attempted poisoning, she found herself slipping off her gloves, brow furrowing as she deposited the rest of the mail on the kitchen counter.

No one outside of the Crows should have any knowledge of her residence at the villa, yet someone had known to send correspondence here. They’d also known that if her mail went to Viago’s, he’d snoop. All the mail sent to the villa passed through Fiamma first. The sender intended for her to get her hands on it without intervention.

Lucanis had been off for some time. Perhaps he wanted a message to get to his grandmother discreetly? Or perhaps it was a trap laid by her cousin, testing how she was exercising caution these days. With a frown, she slipped a knife from her waistband and sliced underneath the wax seal, anyway.

Hey kid, You might not remember us little people after single-handedly taking down 20 Antaam, but you left an impression on me I can’t seem to shake. I’m working on looking for an old friend who’s gotten themselves into some pretty deep shit. I could use someone with your skill set and grit to help me find him and, maybe, beat some sense into him. If you’re up for the job, and things aren’t too cushy where you’re at, you can find me every evening for the next ten-day at the Lamplighter in Minrathous. Look for the guy with a loud mouth and a chessboard. -Varric

Varric. One of the prisoners she freed the night she ruined an entire Crow operation - the very misstep that landed her here at Villa Dellamorte. His proposition wasn’t a new one - he’d made the same offer the night she rescued him, but Viago hauled her off before she could even consider it. Undoubtedly, Varric had powerful allies and discreet surveillance on her. She was unnerved that she hadn’t noticed. Though she found herself somewhat impressed. Intrigued, even.

Fiamma folded the letter and tucked it into her pocket, setting a kettle on the stove as she continued tending to her evening duties. While the water for Caterina’s evening tea boiled, she contemplated Varric’s offer. Viago had sidelined her for three full moons now, with no promise of letting her return home, or to her own contracts anytime soon. In that period, Illario had become more insufferable, more forward, and more tormenting. After Lucanis departed for a prolonged contract last week, Illario had formed a habit of returning home drunk every night, melancholy and distraught, howling belligerently outside her door to be let in. If the villa weren’t so large, and Fiamma’s chambers weren’t in the opposite wing, Caterina would have caned him for making so much noise. It seemed his luck was in his grandmother’s declining hearing.

She shook her head, preparing a cup of tea and arranging it on a bed tray alongside the rest of Caterina’s mail. Carrying it up the stairs, she wound through long hallways and several bare rooms. Cloth draped so much of the villa’s furniture to protect it from dust that she often felt surrounded by ghosts. In many ways, she was. Caterina had watched her entire family die, save her two remaining grandchildren. What joy was left inside these walls? Why decorate a space better left vacant, much like the unmarked graves near the rose garden?

The First Talon was in a rocking chair before the fire when Fiamma knocked on her bedroom door. Caterina never could quite sit still. Even at rest, she was restless. Normal people rocked their grandbabies to sleep, but she raised hers to be killers. Good ones at that. The back and forth of her chair was meant to soothe her own worry.

“Lots of mail today.” Fiamma said, setting the tray on a desk near the balcony. The old woman glanced at her, the glimmer of hope in her eyes betraying her mask of indifference.

“Anything from Lucanis?”

“Are you expecting word from him? I could send-”

“I’ll handle it.” Caterina waved, cutting her off. “Leave me.”

Typically, the two would exchange a few teasing comments or Caterina would gloat about Lucanis’ most recent accomplishment (or how Illario had most recently vexed her), but Fiamma knew better than to pry. Caterina was prone to sour moods, and where she came from, dismissal was just as good as praise most of the time. After all, to be noticed often meant death in her line of work.

With a polite dip of her chin, she backed out of the room and closed the door. Absentmindedly, her hand returned to her pocket, brushing against the edge of the folded parchment there. The click of her boots echoed against the marble as she walked down the dimly lit corridor to her room. It would be unconscionable to leave Caterina now. Once Lucanis’ contract in Minrathous was finished, she’d take her leave in the night. But surely he’d return soon. What harm was there in leaving her with Illario for a few days? A lead assassin was more than capable of fending for herself…

She could barely count the steps left to her door when she heard something behind her, turning and preparing for an ambush. A small gasp escaped her as her back hit the wall, Illario’s face coming only a breath from her own. So drunk she could smell the alcohol on his skin, she turned her head to the side and wrinkled her nose.

“Fiammetta…don’t tell me you’re avoiding me?” Illario slurred, clumsily dragging a hand down her cheek.

“Go to bed.” She braced her palms on his chest to create distance between them.

“Not without you.” He took her by the wrists and pressed his mouth sloppily against the corner of her own.

“You pig!” She shoved him off, spitting and wiping her lips with her sleeve.

“How long will we do this dance, Fi?” Illario asked in a sultry voice.

“As long as it takes for you to get it through your head that the kiss before was a thank you, not an oath of my devotion.”

Illario narrowed his eyes. “There’s someone else, isn’t there?”

“Is it so hard to fathom that I just don’t want you?”

“No, no, come on. Who is it? You and Teia have some secrets that I should know about?” He leaned in closer. “What about my cousin? He’s sweet on you, I can tell.”

“Listen to yourself.” Fiamma sneered. “You just can’t believe I would say no to you unless I was saying yes to someone else.”

Illario stumbled into her, pulling her closer. “Lucanis is inexperienced.” He whispered against the shell of her ear, “You want me, someone who can show you the ropes-”

Fiamma instinctively reeled back and decked him square in the jaw, her knuckles grazing his bottom teeth. With a hiss of pain, she recoiled, shaking the impact from her fist as he held his chin, opening his mouth wide to check the joint.

“Maybe I deserved that one.” He mumbled, wiping at his bloodied lip.

Before the exchange could carry on another moment, Fiamma wrenched the doors of her bedroom open and slammed them shut behind her, turning the lock and sliding her sword through the handles for extra security.

“I didn’t stand a chance, did I?” Illario asked through the door as his body audibly slumped against it.

Ignoring him, she pulled a bag from under the bed. When she first arrived, Fiamma never fully unpacked. Her own way of keeping one foot out the door, as De Rivas always did. She swept the room, gathering her remaining belongings and throwing them inside. For good measure, she snatched a couple of offerings from the guest wardrobe. Caterina wouldn’t miss them. Though she might miss her . That wasn’t Fiamma’s problem anymore, though.

“I’ve done terrible things, Fiammetta…” Illario’s muffled voice cried. “But I had to…”

With a heavy sigh, Fiamma hoisted her pack onto her shoulder, retrieved her sword from the door, and opened her bedroom window. No longer willing to entertain another night of self-pitying theatrics, she launched herself over the ledge, scaling a trellis to the gardens and sneaking through the hidden passage across the courtyard.

By morning, she’d secured a spot on a ship to Minrathous, to search for a man with a loud mouth and a chessboard. With a brief pang of guilt, she wondered who would bring Caterina her morning coffee.

─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───

Rook found Viago poised over the kitchen counter, precariously refilling his toxin vials. Framed by the glass balcony doors, the setting sun glowed over the city skyline behind him, turning the den a faint orange. Her cousin glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, decanting a clear liquid into an empty container.

“Your friends tired of hovering by your bedside and returned home.”

Rook took a seat, watching him work. “Teia too?”

“She had work to do at the casino. She left once I assured her you’d live.”

Neither of them spoke for several minutes as Viago corked a glass cylinder and nestled it inside his case with care. He snapped it shut and braced his palms on the counter, staring at the stone surface.

“Go back to your Lighthouse. I’ll keep an eye on Illario and update you when I know more. Once you go through that eluvian of yours, I’m facing it towards the wall.”

“What if I need you?”

“Lucanis seems more than eager to make you his problem. Let him carry the burden for a little while.”

Rook buried her reaction to his disappointment deep within herself. “What makes you say that?”

“Because he was the last to leave and keeps reappearing through that damned mirror every hour to check in.” Viago stood up straight and took off towards his room without sparing her a second look.

“Whatever is going on between the two of you, keep it out of my house.”

─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───

AMBER. AND HONEY! ROOK. CLOSE .

Lucanis glanced up just before she opened the kitchen doors. Relief and another potent emotion, something akin to the rush just before an assassination, coursed through his veins.

“Rook! You’re back.” He breathed, lifting the pasta cooking on the stovetop off the flame and setting it aside to cool. “How are you feeling?”

“Well rested.” She crossed the room as he wiped his hands on his apron, discarding it on a nearby chair. As she joined him near the stove, his eyes met hers, and he forced a smile, feeling a bit dazed. He turned around quickly, twirling a forkful of pasta in the pan and offering her a bite.

“Come here, try something for me.”

One brow arched, she held his gaze, lips dragging down the metal prongs as she allowed him to feed her a mouthful. Chewing thoughtfully, she threw her head back with a moan. Lucanis watched her features attentively, assessing what the dish might need based on her reaction.

OTHER WAYS TO MAKE HER MOAN, LUCANIS. BETTER WAYS.

He shoveled a forkful of hot pasta into his own mouth, as if he could silence Spite by burning his own tongue.

“I’m trying something new.” The noodles scalded his throat as he swallowed them whole. “The trick is in the pasta water…” He returned his attention to dinner, dividing it amongst an assortment of plates on the counter.

“You’re in a surprisingly cheerful mood today.” Rook snuck a fork from the counter and began eating directly out of the pan.

“I’m cautiously optimistic about Caterina, and I wanted to do something nice for you, show my appreciation for all your help…” He snatched the fork from her grasp. “Save your appetite. There’s a tort in the oven, too.”

Rook smiled, and the warmth of her brown irises brought out by the light of the fireplace. “Did you do all this for me, Lucanis?”

“There’s plenty to share.” Tension grew in his chest, a sensation of static rising in his throat. “But…I did make it with you in mind.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did,” He said matter-of-factly, shoving his hands in his pockets and averting his eyes. “I still haven’t found a way to apologize for everything, and…”

“I’m the one who owes you an apology, Lucanis.” She said, reaching for his wrists. “I should have listened to you. Should have told you my plans, never should have…”

ROOK. TOUCHING. US. DO IT BACK!

Lucanis let her tug him closer, blinking in surprise as she flung her arms around his neck. One hand fell to her waist, while the other found her hip.

“You and me? We’re good, Rook.” He said, tearing his attention away from her and returning to the stove, wordlessly plating their meal as Rook set the table. She brushed past him; filling a cup of coffee for each of them before settling into her seat. It was wonderfully domestic, and he welcomed the distraction from the trouble that waited for them in Treviso. It would be hard to trust anyone again, but after his moment with Rook yesterday, he’d unveiled a trust in her he’d never allowed himself to have in anyone.

The others soon arrived, Bellara and Neve bringing news of kidnapped Dalish, taken by Venatori, for a ritual sacrifice. A pang of disappointment hit Lucanis as he realized their brief respite from the terror of the gods would soon be over…and the tort he’d labored over all afternoon would likely go untouched.

“The gods will want more power,” Bellara said, picking at her food. “They won’t waste any time getting it.”

A phantom scratch came from behind Lucanis’ eyeballs at the mention of blood magic.

“Then we strike while they’re weak.” He lowered his fork, looking up from his half-finished plate and holding Rook’s gaze. She set her mouth in a line with a firm nod.

“He’s right.” She said, pushing up from her seat. The others followed suit, departing in the direction of the eluvian.

“Sorry about your dinner plans.” Rook murmured as Lucanis fell in step beside her.

“I can make you dinner any time,” he said with a grin. “Never apologize for ending a meal early to kill Venatori.”

“After what they did to you and Spite, to Neve and the Shadow Dragons, to Minrathous…” Rook reached down and squeezed his hand. “I intend to cleanse Tevinter of every single one.”

WANT TO WATCH ROOK KILL . AND THEN-

Lucanis’ skin heated as she let go of his hand, forging ahead to give directives. He kept a careful distance as Spite ranted and raved in his mind about all the things he could do to Rook, some things he wasn’t even certain he knew how to do…

─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───

Safer to venture into such a large gathering of Venatori in small groups, Neve, Lucanis, and Rook opted to move in the open, disguised, while the others went through the trees with the Veil Jumpers.

“This robe stinks of Venatori. It makes my eyeballs itch.”

Lucanis stood with his arms crossed as he waited for Neve to reach the opposite end of the zip line. White fog seeped up from the deep canyon before them, concealing several roaring waterfalls in the distance. Rook bit her lip as she examined the large gap between them and the opposite bank.

“If you’re not too uncomfortable…I could use a favor.”

Lucanis raised an eyebrow as she held up her palms. The injuries she sustained from her escape from the villa were still red and inflamed as she tugged a pair of thick gloves over them with a grimace.

Lucanis smirked and offered her his back. “Need a lift?”

“You sure you can carry both of us?” She asked with some uncertainty, “I can catch up with the others if…”

Lucanis scoffed. “I can handle you.”

“Rescued twice in less than a fortnight. I’m a lucky girl.” Rook’s arms encircled his middle, and she rested her chin on his shoulder, hiking her legs up around his waist. “Are you sure about this?”

He stiffened, tightening his grip on the handles. “I’ll keep my reservations to myself until we reach the other side.”

Lucanis kicked off the ground, and they soared over the canyon, Rook’s stomach plummeting as she looked at the drop below. With her arms locked tightly around Lucanis’ chest, she feared he’d suffocate and pass out, sending them both to their deaths amongst the jagged rocks below. Eyes squeezed shut, she became attuned to the scent of his shaving oil lingering on his neck as she buried her face there. The telltale jolt of them hitting the end of the zipline ripped every thought from her mind and she released a held breath, letting her shaking legs detach themselves from around Lucanis. As her boots hit solid ground, she swallowed hard to avoid retching.

“Took you long enough,” Neve said, inclining her head towards the Venatori camp. “Come on.”

They weaved through a sea of Red Cloaks and excited chatter. Rook caught the sound of her own name a few times, resisting the urge to turn her head towards it.

“You’re popular.” Neve murmured.

“Not comforting.” Rook replied. From her peripheral, she watched Lucanis scan the crowd, hands flexing at his sides.

“They’re going to bleed a Dalish deer!” A nearby Venatori squealed.

Rook’s throat tightened as she recalled the disposition of the gentle creature she’d encountered with Assan and Davrin. “They’re going after Halla?”

She turned to a platform where the creature was drug forward on a rope, weak and struggling to resist. Could it be the same one from before?

Lucanis reached out and caught her around the waist as she jolted forward, bringing his lips to her ear.

“We can’t do anything that will draw attention, Rook.” He warned in a low voice. Tears stung her eyes as she realized he was right. Lucanis discreetly reached for her hand, lacing his fingers through hers.

“You don’t have to watch this,” Neve said as the Halla bleated in terror, but Rook couldn’t tear her gaze away, no matter how badly she wanted to. She squeezed Lucanis’ hand, fingernails digging into his skin unintentionally. When she noticed and tried to relax her grip, his only tightened. Face set in a facade of indifference, fury simmered beneath his features.

“They will pay, one way or another.”

The Halla exploded into a mess of blood and carrion and she stifled a gasp, turning into Lucanis’ shoulder. She’d seen all she needed to, and not a second more.

“Are you alright?” Lucanis asked softly.

“This whole place makes my skin crawl.” She said through gritted teeth, releasing his hand with some difficulty and storming through the Venatori camp.

─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───

“The Dalish prisoners…they escaped safely?”

Covered in blood and dirt after the events at the Venatori camp, Rook stood across Solas in their usual meeting spot, each on one side of an enormous expanse in the Fade. His prison.

“For now.”

They’d barely been successful. Elgar’nan had shown up with an unexpected archdemon, and soon detected their presence, bringing to light his alliances with both the Venatori and the Antaam. If not for Solas’ intervention, they, nor the Dalish, would have made it out alive.

“Whatever my frustration with them, it feels good to have helped my people again. Thank you for allowing me to. The chance to infuriate Elgar’nan was a reminder of simpler times.” Solas spoke more warmly than she was used to. It felt like a change she shouldn’t trust.

“We share a set of similar goals, but our endgame is not the same.” Rook said, folding her arms over her chest, “And I still haven’t forgiven you for hurting Varric.”

“Varric…” Solas echoed, regret weighing on his features. “How is he?”

“Out of commission, for now. His recovery is slow, thanks to you, but his condition seems to be….improving.” Rook said, worry gnawing at her gut.

“And you? I can’t help but notice you bear some injuries of your own.” Solas nodded at the contusion on her temple and where her wounds had reopened on her palms. She’d had no choice but to draw her weapons and fight, undoubtedly prolonging her healing time.

“I’ll be fine.” She muttered, pulling her gloves from out of her pockets and slipping them on, careful to keep a straight face. Solas wouldn’t get the satisfaction of seeing her suffer today.

“You lead your allies well, Rook. When we first met, I saw you only as a foolish child who disrupted my plans. You were…an irritant.” He said, crossing his arms behind his back. “I expected you to be nothing more than a tool, but you’ve proven me wrong at every turn. Perhaps Varric was not misguided, placing his faith in you.”

“You’d do well not to underestimate me.” Rook said, “Most come to regret it…given they survive long enough.”

“Spoken like someone who kills for a living.”

“Let’s not pretend my death toll is anywhere close to yours.” Rook growled.

Solas hummed in acknowledgement, uncrossing his arms and beginning to pace.

“Your team trusts you, and you listen to them. It is impressive…and enviable. You work together with a camaraderie that took me centuries to build in my rebellion.”

“I care about them. I don’t use them as…how did you put it… tools?”

“I caution you not to allow feelings to distract you from your goal. What little time you have left, you should make certain you, and the team that trusts you, are ready for whatever comes. This might be your last chance. Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain are preparing their ritual to pierce the Veil during the next eclipse, as Elgar’nan’s power is tied to light and darkness.”

“My allies will be ready.” Rook said, walking through dust and rubble towards the other end of the Fade’s nothingness. Anything to be further from Solas.

“Are you?” He called after her. “I know that you will do everything in your power not to fail them , but what are you doing to ensure you will not fail yourself ? I have gleaned insight into some of your baggage, the complicated feelings you carry for fellow Crows, including the one on your own team. Have you grappled with your own shame? The regrets that haunt you in your sleep?”

“The Lighthouse is a shrine to your regret, Solas.” Rook said over her shoulder as the world around them faded to white. “Keep your words of wisdom and try heeding them yourself.”

27 notes · View notes

suprababka · 3 days ago

Text

How you first met & how they asked you out on a first date (part 3)

Featuring:

• Flashy Flash • Zombieman • King

[Saitama & Genos & Speed-o'-Sound Sonic: part 1] [Garou & Metal Bat & Amai Mask: part 2]

A/N: Merry Christmas! Thank you everyone for reading what I do and supporting me, it means a lot. I always do my best to make you guys happy because I really appreciate all of you. As some of you can remember, I've already mentioned a few times my first post with headcanons, and here it is! Finally, after all this time, I can present it to you as a gift for Christmas!🎄💫🎊🎉

(I hope I didn't mess anything up, and I'm sorry for being a bit late! I really wanted to publish this post sooner but couldn't. We don't celebrate Christmas in my country btw) Unfortunately, I had to split up post into 3 parts :((( Alright, let's see if you guys like my headcanons! :) (I low-key cringe at them tbh)

And dear anons, who requested headcanons, do not worry! I remember about you and will post everything, I just wanted to have a logical "begining" for hcs, you know?

Thanks for all the likes, comments, reblogs and following me! I really appreciate your feedback and support, guys!🥰🫶

You can check my masterlist too see more of my other works.

Prepare for possible OOC!

(Sorry if there are any mistakes!)

And, most importantly, enjoy!!!

You live in a world where a monster attack can happen anywhere and at any time

It sounds terrifying, but that's a part of your and everyone else's life

The government with the Hero Association did a pretty good job at keeping civilians safe and sound

For example, you've never seen a real monster before, only on TV

And it's not like you have a goal of witnessing one in real life, but still

You always feel safe

Even now, when you're walking back home from watching a movie with your friends all pretty and preppy

Suddenly, you hear a woman's cry, "A-a-ah! Somebody, help! There is a monster, a-a-h!!"

Your heartbeat unimaginably increases

You freeze, not knowing what to do due to fear

Where is this woman? Why is there no alarm of a monster attack? Where are heroes? What do you do??

It feels like the woman is screaming right next to your ear, but you're all alone on the street – everyone else has already run away

You peek around the corner and see a woman at the end of the alley trapped between the monster and a wall

She has nowhere to run

And the monster? It's the same size as a regular human, looks like a normal man besides its leather, dark green skin, and huge claws

Wolf level threat, no more

But still terrifying

The monster doesn't know you're here, so you can use a chance to run past it unnoticed and leave the poor lady behind

Or you can help her somehow

Try to call the Hero Association? The monster will hear and kill you

Run away out and only then call them? It might be too late for that, the monster will kill this woman, and who knows when heroes will arrive

But on the other hand, it's not your fault she got into the trouble in the first place, right? And you don't owe anything to her

In fact, you actually are not obliged to help her

There is no shame in trying to save your own life

So yeah, it's better to just run

As you run past them, you suddenly stop yourself

No, you're not like this, you were raised differently

You'll help this woman, it's settled

It should take a good smack at the monster's head to knock it out

After that, you just have to run

You got this

Feeling determined and giving into an adrenaline rush, you take a metallic trash can lid and start quietly approaching the monster

It's focused on the woman, and the lady herself doesn't see you

You manage to quietly approach the monster and hit its head with all your strength, making the disgusting creature stumble and wince in pain

"Run! RUN!" you command the woman who doesn't waste a second and immediately starts running away with you

But as you're about to turn around the corner to get back on the street, you suddenly fall, feeling pain in the shin of your right leg

You try to stand up but fail

You look back and notice that monster somehow injured your leg

How? It wasn't even close to you

You look at the creature and see that not only did it get even bigger, but its eyes literally burned with anger, and a few sharp tentacles came out of his back

The monster approaches you, growling loudly

You scan the area to find something that can help you fight with monster

And for the first time in your life, you're grateful for drunk heads who leave their empty beer bottles on the streets

You grab the glass bottle and throw it directly at the monster's face

While the creature winces in pain, you try to make a run for it

But the only thing you can do is just pathetically crawl away

Meanwhile, the monster extends its arm to grab or attack you

You instinctively close your eyes

That's it

That's how you die

What a sad death

At least you saved that woman

...

Nothing happens

It's peaceful, quiet...

... or not

Suddenly you hear water splashing, something heavy falling... and heels clicking?

You open your eyes and find yourself in the same alley, lying on the ground

And the monster is gone?

What is left of it are big pieces and splashes of its blood

No way, you were saved!

But by whom?

"It's alright, you're safe now," you hear a man's voice next to you

You glance up and see S-class hero, Flashy Flash!

(the hero you worship so much)

"I... Thank you! You saved my life!!!"

He just nods and points to your injured leg, "Let me see it."

"Huh? Ah, yeah, sure..." you let your saver examine your wound

You're quite surprised to see this side of Flash

(and the hero himself too, of course)

As far as you're concerned, Flashy Flash is known for his stoic demeanor and immediate disappearing after defeating monsters

Quite the contrary of what you're witnessing now, to be exact

But maybe these are just rumors?

"It got near your nerve. Just a little bit more, and you'd practically lose your foot. You're lucky."

"And lucky enough to be saved by you, huh?"

He chuckles, "Yeah, lucky you."

Ah, his small smile... what a rare and adorable sight

He looks more humane with it

"Your smile really suits you. You should smile more," you comment, without thinking

Flash gives you a strict look, his smile drops

"I don't smile. I should take you to the hospital so they could treat your leg there."

With these words, he scoops you in his arms and starts carrying you to the hospital

(he doesn’t even look at you, his eyes are fixed on the road ahead of you)

As he steps out of the alley onto the street, his grip on you tightens

"Hold tight, it's gonna be a fast ride, but not a pleasant one for you."

"Huh, wha-"

Suddenly you feel a strong force pressing you into Flash

And the world around you spins in a strange way

A few moments later you find yourself in the hospital

Yeah, they didn't lie in media that Flashy Flash had inhuman speed!

"Oh…"

"You alright?"

"Y-yes, a bit nauseous, but overall, I'm okay."

"Yeah, others said that my speed was a bit overwhelming for them too."

Others? Ouch

Of course he saved many people before you

Why did you think you were special in the first place?

A gush of surprised whispers fills the hospital hall: "Oh my god, is that Flashy Flash?!", "Who is that girl?", "A-ah, he is even hotter in person!", "I wish it was me…"

To avoid further gossip, you address the S-class hero, "Um, you can put me down. There is no need to carry me anymore…"

"Your leg is injured badly. It's better for you not to put pressure on it."

With these words, he finally takes you to the receptionist

As they register you, you realize that soon enough Flashy Flash will go

(and you probably will never see him again)

"Thank you," you begin. "I'm really grateful that you saved my life and took me to the hospital. Most heroes would just go straight away."

Flash doesn't answer you immediately, staring into the distance as if he's considering something

"Usually I'd walk away too," he finally says, his gaze falling on you. "But… Something made me not to. ..I guess it's your bravery. Not everyone has the guts to fight back a monster. You handled it rather well."

"Uh, thanks, but… You watched me instead of saving?"

"…"

"It doesn't matter. What I wanted to say is... you're a fighter, and I respect that."

You can't really follow what he's trying to say

"Thank you, it means a lot."

"Do you know what else means a lot?"

"…No?"

"You made me smile. That's what."

"But you said you don't smile?.."

He chuckles, "That I did. However, it'd be stupid of me to ignore the fact that I act differently towards you. I'm not known for my altruism towards other people, you know. So you can count yourself special."

???

"And I'd like to talk to you more… but under different circumstances next time."

"Really?"

"Yes. Why would I say that if I didn't mean it?"

"I just didn't expect that."

"Neither did I. But here we are."

"And to answer your question, I'd like to spend time with you too."

He smirks, "Correct answer."

Meanwhile, the receptionist finishes registering you and calls nurses

"It looks like you're about to get treated."

"Yes, thank you again for helping me."

The S-class hero chuckles again, "I'm not going anywhere now. And I can't just leave my date, can I?"

"Huh?" you only manage to raise your eyebrows before nurses lay you on the hospital bed and start carrying you to a doctor

Fortunately, your injury isn't serious

You just need to bandage your leg, put some ointment on it, and try to walk less in the next three days

After that, you're free to go (literally)

Turns out that Flashy Flash was awaiting you the whole time, like he promised

Moreover, he takes you to your place

(to make sure that you'll be safe and won't strain your leg)

But due to another monster attack somewhere else, all you manage to do is exchange your contacts before S-class hero speeds away to do his job

Damn, what an evening, right?

Bonus:

Flashy Flash accidentally runs into you and the monster

For some strange reason, there is no alarm nor no alert from HA, telling there is an attack

Maybe because you're a hero who is here to save the day (evening, actually)?

But judging by your appearance and your desperate attempts to defeat the monster, you’re a regular citizen

But he'll be damned, you have a strong will

Flashy Flash doesn't really know what amazes him in you more: the way you stand up for yourself or your beauty

Wait, what? Amazes?

Flashy Flash doesn't feel amazed by someone. He is the amazing one

He examines the wound on your leg

That's strange, Flashy Flash usually doesn't check victims of monster attacks

And moreover, he doesn't get all "buddy" with them

"Your smile really suits you. You should smile more."

What?

He smiled???

…

No, he doesn't smile

…

But why do you feel so good, so right in his arms?

No way, does he really... like you?

But Flashy Flash doesn't get attached to anyone, he is all by himself

Or he thought so

As much as the S-class hero wants to stick to his bachelor image, he realizes he actually can't

"…Most heroes would just go straight away."

He would too

And yet, he didn't

Maybe it's time for Flash to stop being so prideful and accept the fact that he has a soft spot for you?

That he hates seeing you in pain

That he doesn't want you to be scared ever again

That he wants to hold you more, to spend more time with you, to protect you

But how exactly?

… Maybe it's time after all

Ah, it doesn't matter, does it?

He's a straightforward man, so he'll just tell you how it is

Besides, it'll be your loss if you reject him

As he starts explaining his feelings to you, he notices that it's kind of hard for him to do this

Ah-oh, Flashy Flash isn't used to talking about this stuff

And why is he a bit nervous all of a sudden?

All his confidence comes back when you return his feelings

Of course you feel the same, how did he even doubt that?

When Flash sees you home, both of you think that it's a great opportunity to get closer to each other at your place

Buuuuut, unfortunately, S-class hero has to come back to his work

So for now you settle for exchanging your numbers and promising each other to talk later

And off he goes

Maybe it's a good thing that you have to postpone your date

It means Flashy Flash can take you out to a nice place when it'd be convenient for both of you

(and when your leg will be healed)

Yeah, sounds like a plan

What is one of the best ways to treat yourself after having a bad day or, vice versa, keep up your good mood?

Correct, going to your favourite cafe and ordering a drink with dessert that you like so much!

Today is your lucky day since there are only a few costumers

Soon enough, you take your order and get ready to go on with the day

Maybe it's just a wrong moment and wrong time, or you just turned too suddenly

But you bump into someone and spill all of your drink other them

How embarrassing

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!!!"

"Don't worry, it happens..."

Your hands automatically take tissues and start trying to dry the liquid off their clothes

As you press the cloth against their stomach, you feel their rather pumped-up abs

And their body is rather cold too, comparing to human standards

Suddenly you realise what you're doing and stop

You feel like you're burning from embarrassment

"Sorry! I..."

You look up and see...

S-class hero Zombieman!

As if it couldn't get any worse

"Uh... It's alright", he takes your hands in his and gently pulls them away

Silence falls as he lets go of your hands

You notice that not only his shirt is stained, but there is also a huge wet spot across his white coat

Uh-oh...

"I'm really sorry... How can I make up for that?"

Zombieman scratches his neck and shrugs

"Hey, accidents happen, I understand that. It's kind of my fault too, I should have been more careful as well."

"I'm really embarrassed. So at least let me wash your clothes, please?"

"There is no need to. The Hero Association provides me with– On the second thought, you know what? If it helps you to feel better, you can wash my clothes."

"I... Thanks, I will!"

"Great. Then, if you don't mind, I'll give you my clothes later because I don't have spare ones. Do you have any plans for this evening?"

"Nope, I'm gonna be at home."

Both of you make plans to meet each other in this cafe and exchange your contacts

And after that, you go your separate ways

As you're doing your stuff at home, you still can't really believe your encouter with your favourite S-class hero, Zombieman

You always felt like there was a wall between heroes and civilians

But in reality, "protectors" are regular people too

Just like you, your family and friends

Yeah, it's an evident thought, but still...

Suddenly you get a message

It's Zombieman telling you that he's ready to give you his clothes

Your meeting with hero goes rather... simple?

Both of you just greet each other and then go your separate ways

Kinda disappointing

On the other hand, you'll meet with him again

You spend rest of the evening cleaning and drying hero's clothes off

When the next day comes, you text Zombieman and both of you agree to meet each other at the cafe

As you pack his things, a certain idea comes to your mind

You take a small piece of paper and write down your number with the text "I'd happy to talk to you again ;)"

You fold the note and put it in the pocket of the hero's coat

Then you realise something: he already has your phone number, so there is no necessity in it, right?

Or maybe there is in case he deletes it?

And maybe you should also write your name?

Maybe it'd be better to rewrite your text?

And to redrew the smiley face just to make sure it doesn't look creepy?

Argh, why is it so hard???

And it's already time for you to head out...

You finally make the decision to just write the phrase without your phone number

After folding a new piece of paper into Zombieman's coat, you finally head out to the cafe

Much to your disappointment, your meeting with the hero goes just like the previous one

However, the man gives you a small gift: a pack of your favourite small cakes

Now that's a pleasant surprise

You thank him and after that, an awkward silence stands between you

Zombieman clears his throat first and opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out

Finally, he says good-bye to you and goes back to his hero work

As for you, you go back to your home

You're not quite sure what you're feeling

On one hand, you're worried that your favourite hero is not interested in you and you'll look stupid with your note

On the other hand, he did give you a gift

It must mean something, right?

You make tea for yourself and unpack cakes

As you start enjoying your treats, you notice a piece of paper

You take and unfold it

The text on the note says: "Hey, I'd really like to get to know you better. You already have my phone number, so text me if you feel the same :)"

You can't believe it

Zombieman IS interested in YOU

Oh my goooood

You immediately open your chat with Zombieman and start composing a message

Suddenly you get a new text from him, saying: "Hey, I read your note. I guess great minds think alike, huh? ;)"

A smile appears on your face and you type him back

Just like that, you spend the rest of the day texting with Zombieman

He asks you out

And of course you agree to go on a date with him on the next day in the cafe that you both like so much

Bonus:

Zombieman has a particular cafe where he likes to drink his coffee

And sometimes he spends time with Child Emperor there

He also notices a beautiful girl who visits this place regularly and takes her favourite pack of cakes and drink

Some time later, Zombieman realises that he subconsciously starts searching for you and wants to talk to you

He's attracted to you

Every time he runs into you and wants to start a conversation, he suddenly gets nervous

Now Zombieman is a calm man and he doesn't get nervous easily

So yeah, it means he likes you

One day he finally gets courage to talk to you and walks up to you

As he is about to say something

(he doesn't really know what to say in the first place)

You suddenly turn, bumping into him and spilling all your drink on him

Well, this is awkward

But the hero doesn't get mad because he understands that it's his fault too

When you start apologising and offering your help, he doesn't accept it in the begining

But then a thought that he could meet you again comes to his mind

And in the end, he agrees to your help

While you were washing his clothes, he was thinking about ways to ask you out

Zombieman wants to do it personally when you'll give him back his clothes

But he knows that he'll get nervous again

(that's why your meetings weren't full of small talks and conversations)

So he decides to settle for a backup plan: write a note and put it into the box with your favourite cakes

When you give him back his clothes, he feels like he finally has courage to ask you out

But Zombieman feels like something stuck in his throat and can't say anything

Well, it's a good thing he left a note, isn't it?

After meeting you, he puts on his cleaned coat and puts hands in the pockets

Suddenly he feels something in his pockets

It's a small note from you

A smile forms on his face as he reads it

Zombieman has nothing to worry about now

... Or so he thought

Asking you out was one thing, but spending time with you was another

The funny thing is that you didn't even know about hero's nervousness because he seemed calm as never before on your date

You love playing different viedogames

Online-shooters, horrors, RPG, life simulators, graphic novels, and even otome games...

Anyway, you weren't a person who had a lot of online- friends, despite the fact that you spend a lot of time in games

But one day you actually met a dude with the nickname "King"

Rather simple and rather "loud"

You first thought it was some guy who highly thought of himself

But while playing with him in the same team, you realised that he was cool

Moreover, you started playing together and even talking to each other

Soon enough, you were practically inseparable best friends, as you'd chat 24/7 about everything

You started feeling like you were soulmates

He's like your other other half

However, you two never thought spoke of meeting each other in real life

Today is the day you both were waiting for

A new awesome online game is out!

Both of you agreed to buy it today and play together in the evening

You step into the shop and start searching for the game among the showcases and shelves

But it's not here

You walk up to assistant and ask him about this game

Turns out, a package of game discs is still not in the shop, but it'll arrive soon enough (10-15 minutes)

Assistants suggest waiting and sitting down

You sit down near a tall man who is wearing a cap, face mask and sunglasses and is doing something in his phone

Weird, but okay

You suddenly get a text from "King"

"Loool, they still don't have the game in the shop"

"Bruh, really? I was about to text you the same. They say that package should arrive in 10-15 minutes. What about you?"

"Same here🤝"

"It'd be funny if we're talking about the same shop😆"

"I know, right?😁"

Suddenly you hear how the man chuckles

Both of you glance at each other quickly and then awkwardly get back to your phones

"Haha, I was texting you when suddenly a man laughed. It was unexpected, but funny😄"

As you send your text, you get a message from "King" in instant

"I've just chuckled at ur message and a girl, sitting near me, looked at me like I did something unacceptable💀"

What a coincidence

"Looool"

"Dude is also wearing a cap and sunglasses with a cap🌚"

"Hey, don't judge him, I'm wearing the same🥲"

"The same..?👀"

You glance up from your phone and look at the man who is looking right back at you

3... 2... 1...

"King?"

"Y-y/n, is that you?"

You excitedly chuckle

"It's really you, bro! Damn, you didn't lie about being tall!"

Both of you start eagerly talking to each other

"Damn, you're S-class hero King as well. Yeah, you're definitely a catch!"

You always feel comfort while talking to King and even dare to flirt with him

You've already accepted the fact that you have feelings for him

And you're almost sure he feels the same by the way he talks to you and flirts with you as well

(though most of his pick-up lines suspiciously sound like they were taken from some omance games or manga)

You don't notice how the time passes and the game package arrives

Despite your protests, King buys the game not only for himself but also for you

In order to make up for that, you suggest going to some cafe

King agrees to eat out but still ends up paying as he wants to be a gentleman

You pout as you feel awkward about this and start nagging King about making up for all of this

"Please, King! I'm embarrassed that you paid for everything! How can I make up for that?"

"You can make up by going out with me."

He smirks pleased, but then his eyes widen and his mouth is agape

"I-I..."

"King, were you serious right now?"

A glimmer of hope fills your chest

"I mean... Yes. I did."

You exhale with relief

"Really? I'd love to!"

Now it's King's turn to let out sigh of relief

Both of you can't believe that this day is real

As for the date, King said that he'd take care of it and tell you when and where you'll go

(yeah, your trip to the cafe today didn't count as a date)

Bonus:

King is just like you: spends a lot of time in games but doesn't have many friends there

And when you appear in his life, he actually gets happier and wants to play and chat with you more

The gamer also develops feelings for you rather fast but is scared to even hint on them

(not to mention, to see you in person)

What if you don't like him and he'll ruin your friendship? What if you won't like his looks if you meet in real life?

But when you start flirting with him, he gets more confident and flirts with you as well

(thanks to the manga he read and games he played, he had some pick-up lines in his sleeve)

When it turns out that you and King are in the same shop, he feels excited and terrified at the same time

Excited to see you

You're so gorgeous

And afraid that you won't like him and stop your communication with him

Thankfully, you eagerly spend time with him and even suggest eating out together

It means something, right?

He also insists on paying for everything because he really wants you to enjoy his company

Both of you have a great time together, telling different stories, laughing and flirting

So when you ask him how can you make up for spending money on you, he doesn't really know what to answer

Because every cent spent on you is worth it

(not that he minds paying for you in the first place)

Damn, he has fallen for you hard

He remembers how he'd rehearse how he's ask you out on a date

And the phrase "You can make up by going out with me" leaves his mouth smothly as if he's at home and says it to the mirror

But then the reality hits him

Should he take his words back? Or is it too late?

No, he decides that it's time to ask you out

Fortunately, you agree

Wow, he's never been happier before

#opm #one punch man #opm headcanons #opm x reader #flashy flash x reader #zombieman x reader #king x reader #flashy flash #zombieman #king opm

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peachhcs · 3 days ago

Note

macklin asking only like a week after they see each other again to hang out and they go to the beach or something, something calm and quiet but something they missed

this was actually so so cutie to write :))) adding in more lore about blaire’s relationship with her brothers, so expect that to be a pretty big plot point and the way blaire is the way she is being so closed off and reserved sometimes

au masterlist

mack didn’t really know what too soon was but a little over a week after they saw one another again, they were going to the beach to hang out on one of mack’s days off. he figured the beach was good because they didn’t have to talk if they didn’t want to, but there were always good conversation starters around as people walked by. either way, blaire agreed to going to the beach with him and the brunette couldn’t be more excited.

he saw her in her car when he got there. she quickly waved when he pulled in next to her and the brunette flushed, returning her cute little grin. they met around the back of their cars after climbing out, “hi,” macklin smiled softly.

“hi. i haven’t been to the beach in so long, so i’m glad you suggested this. it’s such nice day,” blaire kicked her back hatch open to grab her beach bag and beach chair.

“i know, i can’t believe how nice it is for october,” he followed her lead down the beach.

“how was your game last night? i saw you guys finally had a win,” blaire glanced back at him and the boy’s face flushed at the idea of her watching his game.

“it was really good actually. our first win of the season, so it felt really nice.”

blaire found them a spot halfway down the beach where there weren’t a lot of people around. the two set their chairs up next to one another. blaire dug into her bag to find her sunscreen. “you want any?” she asked mack.

“i should probably put some on,” he laughed a bit.

“right, you burn so easily,” a giggle slipped past her lips making mack blush. she remembered so many little details about him that he thought she would’ve definitely forgot after two years.

he watched her (not in a creepy way) apply her sunscreen. when she reached her back the boy flushed thinking she was gonna ask him to help get her upper shoulders and he was right because she did, “i can’t reach the awkward middle. can you?”

mack, who tried not letting his nerves show, stepped forward and gently rubbed it into the girl’s skin. it was kind of strange to him being so relaxed around one another after literally not talking or seeing each other for two years, but mack wasn’t complaining. he was actually glad blaire still felt so comfortable around him despite them literally breaking up (and possibly finding their way back to one another.)

“i think i got it all,” the brunette mumbled, dropping his hands back to his sides.

“thank you. want me to get you?” blaire quickly offered.

now rubbing her sunscreen in for her was one thing, but her doing it for him was completely different because mack didn’t know if he’d be able to even function properly when her hands touched his bare skin.

“sure,” he said nonetheless and pulled his shirt off.

the cream was cool against his skin, he squirmed at first, but relaxed the more blaire eased her fingers into the divots of his back.

“so what else has been new with you besides becoming a big shot hockey player?” her tone had a teasing edge to it like how they used to talk to one another when they were 15. it was a good thing she couldn’t see mack’s embarrassing red blush.

“not a lot, i guess. hockey’s been taking up most of time since august,” the boy shrugged lightly.

“yeah, same with figure skating. we have competitions every weekend. when i’m not doing that i’m studying,” the girl agreed.

“you were really good the other day, by the way. i mean you’ve always been good, but..wow. i was impressed,” mack confessed and he wondered if blaire was blushing because she didn’t respond right away.

“thanks, celly. that means a lot,” blaire finally responded, her voice soft.

she moved her hand away from his back and he took that as her cue that she was done. he spun back around, meeting her soft gaze as she handed him the rest of the sunscreen.

“because we’re here you have to play mermaids with me later,” blaire grinned widely and the hockey player laughed.

“okay, deal. i love mermaids,” they shared a laugh and macklin applied the rest of his sunscreen.

for now, the two just sat out on their chairs tanning and people watching. they’d occasionally point out people walking by, but for the most part, they just caught up. the conversation flowed like they never spent any time apart. macklin talked about his year at boston university and blaire told him about her freshman year at santa clara. it sounded like both had really good years.

that feeling macklin’s had since he first saw blaire last week continued growing as the day went on. his chest tightened and exploded each time her eyes lit up when telling him a funny story from freshman year.

it was pretty obvious he’s never been over her. as much as he tried moving on and finding other girls, something always drew him back to blaire like maybe they’d reconnect one day and reconcile whatever happened between them—and surprise, surprise, he was getting that chance. the young rookie was not letting her go this time.

“how are your siblings?” blaire shifted the subject to him, feeling bad she’s done so much talking about her life and hardly asking him about his.

“they’re good. aiden’s playing hockey at boston still. rj’s playing for a little league team and charlie’s doing tennis still,” macklin explained his siblings’ whereabouts.

“i’m glad to hear they’re all doing good. carter and mason are pretty good, too. carter’s finishing high school and mason’s a senior at university of washington,” blaire hummed and macklin could hear the crack in her voice. he always knew she never had a very close relationship with her brothers because of everything that happened with their mom.

“wow, a senior already?” the rookie chuckled.

“tell me about it. he’s moving to ireland once he graduates. he found a crazy good job and he wants to be abroad for awhile,” blaire continued.

“ireland? that’s crazy. good for him.”

“yeah, it is crazy. carter’s pretty sad about it, but he’s gonna do good,” the dirty blonde hummed, her fingers tapping against the armrest of the chair. even though she didn’t say it, mack knew her better than that. he knew she was also sad about it.

“how are you feeling?” he dared to ask.

there was a pause and the boy quickly worried her overstepped by asking. “okay..i guess,” she was vague which mack expected. he wondered if he should push for more, but he didn’t wanna test his luck considering they just started talking again.

blaire kept talking though, “it kind of feels like he’s leaving because he doesn’t wanna be around us anymore though. even though our mom dying was like seven years ago, it still really affects all of us i think. mostly because none of us really processed it right, but i don’t know. mason’s never been the same since. he like hardly wants anything to do with carter and i. me specifically.”

“shit, i’m sorry. that really sucks,” mack sympathized but blaire shrugged. “it’s fine. i can’t really do anything about it. i just try not to think about it.”

a silence fell around them after that discussion. macklin stared out at the beach, suddenly grateful that at least his siblings were somewhat close even and family was still together even though attention got really divided sometimes.

“hey, i think i wanna get in the water now. you up for mermaids?” blaire stood up, clearly trying to break the tension she just created. mack smiled.

“of course,” he grinned and threw his towel off him.

he watched her slip out of her tank top and shorts, his breath hitching when he saw her in nothing but her bikini. he adverted his gaze when she looked back at him, a blush coating his cheeks. “race you?” she smirked.

macklin didn’t even get a chance to respond before she started racing towards the water. he quickly chased after her, some of the other people on the beach giving them a side eye for being so rambunctious. blaire had a pretty big lead and successfully made it into the water before mack could catch her. she dove right in, the cool water feeling good on her warm skin.

mack dove in after her. they came back up at the same time, shaking their wet hair out. “it feels so nice. i miss coming to the beach,” blaire grinned and dipped her head back.

she pushed back so she was floating on her back like a starfish. mack admired her again. the sun was reflecting off the water and onto her skin perfectly that it looked like she was glowing. she hadn’t even changed a bit—still looking like the same girl he fell in love with when they were fifteen.

they played mermaids for a good half hour which just consisted of them splashing one another and diving under the waves. they hurried back up to the beach with pruny skin, grabbing their towels to dry themselves off.

“so what are the chances you could get me tickets to your next home game?” blaire wondered as she squeezed her hair out. mack’s gaze flicked to hers, a look of surprise on his features.

“you wanna come to one of my games?”

“well, yeah. i wanna see you on the big rink with the big guys,” blaire grinned and mack was pretty sure his heart exploded right then and there.

“i can see what i can do, but chances are high,” the boy smiled back.

“good because i really wanna come. i already have an outfit in mind,” she cheesed and there was no way mack wasn’t getting her back.

the two packed up their things for the day and trudged back up towards the parking lot. mack helped blaire load her chain into her car before the two awkwardly stood in the parking lot wondering when their next hang out would be and what this was going to mean for their friendship moving forward.

“this was really fun, thanks for coming,” blaire said first.

“of course. i had a lot of fun too. we should do it again,” he smiled.

“literally just text me, i’m freeish..well, i’ll just tell you when i’m free, but it’s been really good getting to see you again. i’ve missed this,” the girl admitted shyly.

“me too. i’ve missed seeing you. i will definitely text you and let you know about the next game,” he opened his arms for a hug. blaire quickly reciprocated, stepping into his embrace that smelled like sand, salt water, and remnants of sunscreen.

“get back safe,” mack said when they pulled apart. blaire nodded and they finally got back into their cars where mack couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot.

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cerbreus · 1 year ago

Text

had a trainwreck of an in person consult for my sleeve tattoo yesterday only made better by the itty bitty yorkie shop dog adoring me and sitting on my lap the whole time.

#also chatting with my partner after ofc i felt so much better tysm chris ♥#but yeah it was not great #it was supposed to be on friday #but she changed it last minute saying she was too busy can we do it the next day at 5 instead? yeah fine #kinda disappointing she didn't tell me in time to like do smth with friends i was invited to but had to opt out of bc of the consult #but whatever #get there early text her that i'm there. stand out side. in the rain. for 15 minutes. she didn't see the text. she didn't see me outside.#in fact.. she was in the middle of tattooing somebody. the client noticed me after 15 minutes and finally let her know.#she comes over all suspicious like. cracks the door and asks 'who are you?what do you want'#even after i say i have a consultation at 5 she didn't remember it was HER who had the consult. i had to rattle off all the details for her #to finally remember it was HER consult and say 'oh i completely forgot about that'#finally get let in and sit down and. she then spends the next couple minutes profusely apologizing to the other client. saying like #'ohhh im so sorry i completely forgot i had a consult scheduled.... i'll get this over with quick' which. well. :(#finally start going through it. she doesn't remember anything about the tattoo. not that it was a sleeve. not what elements were in it. :(#i wasn't expecting a sketch or anything but. even just having re-read the emails before the consult would have... been nice....#after she does that she says 'oh we didn't really need an in person consultation' which is also. :( because she suggested it.#i get a whole like 5 minutes to rehash stuff we already went over in emails including her not remembering i'd put down a deposit AND we had #3 sessions scheduled already.... and it needs another 2 sessions which i wish she'd told me about because she's booked so far out my last #session might not be until. may.#i didn't even get to ask any questions! i wanted to ask! like does she use saniderm? (i can't have that on my skin)#does she want other things for a tip than just cash? (absolutely not offering that now) has she dealt with KP before? are there any things #she wants me to bring to the sessions? (they're gonna be long)#and then i'm rushed out the door and sitting in my car in the rain and just absolutely fucking crushed #and feeling bad that i feel so bad because like. is it entitled of me to think that like.#maybe if u have a client paying u thousands of dollars to design & tattoo their sleeve tattoos.... you'd like.... treat them like a client #i was so excited about my sleeve i was so fucking psyched and now im. not. at all.#i'm worried about what if she forgets about my appts? what if she books over my appts like she already did with just my consult?#and i'm left hanging trying to get things scheduled in so so so so late like i'm some second rate flaky walk in....#i guess it could have gone worse

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sleepyangelkami · 3 months ago

Note

more vi plss!! (and reader is a pillow princess)

SAY IT .vi

𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT - 1.5K

VI (ARCANE) X FEM!READER

𝜗𝜚 SUMMARY - vi calls you exactly what you are, a pillow princess and in efforts to prove her wrong, you only end up proving her right. but that's fine, because that was all she wanted.

𝜗𝜚 WARNINGS - smut, dom!vi, sub!reader, pillow princess!reader, fingering (r.receiving), praise kink, dumbification, dirty talk, alternate universe, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

it started off as a joke.

a simple joke that left your girlfriends lips. you'd been laying on your stomach across the sitting room sofa, words mindlessly falling from both your lips as you flipped through a magazine. she sat man-spreading across the arm chair, controller in hand. you always said she loved her video games more than you, but she'd always deny.

then you heard it, the joke spewing from her lips with a smirk on her face. "yeah, okay, pillow princess."

instantly, your head snapped up from your magazine. your glittery pen that you'd been circling clothing with dropped from your pretty fingers. "i'm not a pillow princess."

vi seemed to sense your distress. she set the controller down as the game conveniently ended. "well, i'm not saying there's anything wrong with it." she leaned back against the armchair, resting her hands behind her head. "i love that you're a pillow princess, believe me."

you wouldn't believe how many times she'd gotten off just by thinking about it. you were so good for her, so responsive. she hardly had to touch you and you were falling apart. sure, she loved watching your head between her thighs as you whimpered into her but there was nothing more she loved than watching you, hearing you. all of it.

you seemed butt hurt by the joke.

but vi swiftly changed the conversation, noticing the furrow of your brow.

vi knew how sensitive you were, how easily you took everything to heart and she didn't want you over thinking this. and her tactics proved right, by five minutes later you were showing her a pretty top you'd spotted on the coloured pages.

you didn't think much of it at first. in fact, for the next while, you didn't think of it at all.

perhaps you had too much in your head to contain so much information, you told vi that was why you talked so much.

it wasn't until vi had you pinned down against the bed, making out with you, that the moment popped into your head again.

you almost shut it out on accident, then it clicked. vi was kissing you deeply, her hands dragged at your hips, pulling and kneading the skin while you passed heavy breaths through your lips, kissing her back just as hard.

and suddenly, you had this urge to prove her wrong.

vi felt you shift, letting you take the lead.

she felt you turn you both over, you landed in her lap and suddenly, she was the one against the bed. her brows shifted in amusement. "what's this, baby?"

you shifted your hair to one side of your head so it didn't get in the way, you weren't really used to things like this. "jus' trying to prove something." you mumbled before reaching down and kissing her lips.

don't get me wrong, vi loved the feeling of you kissing her, whatever way you sat, laid or stood, on top or not. but she couldn't seem to shake the amusement as your mouth left hers, leaving a trail of kisses against her neck. "this have something to do with that joke i made before?"

your lips stopped momentarily at her neck, eyes gazing up. "'m not a pillow princess."

vi didn't understand why you were so adamant about it.

there was no shame in it. on the contrary, she adored it.

"yeah?" her brow cocked and she was looking at you this way that had you nodding, suddenly unable to speak. "y'sure, sweetheart? cause if i remember correctly..." suddenly, you were being flipped over again, beneath her all over again. "you quite like sitting there all pretty 'n taking it."

you could feel her hands trail down past your waist, kneading your thighs in her hands. "v-vi, 'm trying to―" you were cut off by the breath being caught in your throat.

vi's hand had trailed up your skirt, her fingers dancing over your panties. "you're trying to what, sweet girl?" you felt her fingers rub against your clothed clit. "c'mon, use your words f'me."

"vi!" you whined, feeling her fingers against you. she wasn't being fair, you were supposed to take charge but how could you think about anything when she was touching you like that?

a soft laugh left the girls lips as she pushed your panties aside, fingers gentle against your swollen bud. "love it when you whine like that."

you could only look up at her with your tinted hot cheeks.

she began to press gentle kisses against the nape of your neck, fingers trailing down to your hole, she rounded her fingers against you, collecting the trail of your slick across her digits. she made a fake gasp noise. "'n look how wet you are already." she couldn't help but smirk. "good girl."

two single words that set you off every time.

a gasp left your lips as she slipped her two fingers inside you at once. you suddenly moaned with pleasure.

vi was like a drug. every time she touched you, you found yourself addicted, begging and chasing for her to praise you. you'd do anything to please her but luckily for you, that meant just sitting there and taking it. you truly did wish you could be less 'responsive' but vi wouldn't take it any other way. her favourite thing to do was turn you dumb with her mere fingers, maybe even her strap.

your eyes fluttered shut in pleasure, feeling her fingers pound against your sopping cunt. "please, vi." you moaned out. "please don't stop."

"yeah? wanna be my good girl again, huh?" nudging your face with her nose, littering kisses on your cheek.

you could only whimper out with a nod. vi had this way of making you feel like you were high on magic. you couldn't help but want her in every way.

"then say it, angel." fingers pumping in and out, embarrassing squelching sounds bounced off each wall of the bedroom. "say you're my pillow princess."

she was met with a mere whine of dissatisfaction from you.

she feigned sympathy with a coo. "awh, i know, baby. my poor girl, jus' so mean, aren't I?" but the girl didn't care much for your whining and whimpering, she'd get you to say it before you came. "but you gotta say it, yeah? don't want me to stop do you?"

you pursed your lips closed. "mm-mm. please don't stop." you practically panted out, you could almost feel frustration build in your water line. "nnghh― please, vi!"

"four words." is all she whispered back, her palm grazed against your clit every time her fingers pounded into your entrance. "know you can say it, pretty girl. jus' need me to make you all dumb, don't you, baby?"

a whimper of her name was the only thing that left your lips, eyes screwing shut.

"close, sweetheart? 's now or never, baby. say it or i'll stop."

the feeling was knotting in your stomach, ready to unravel. you didn't want to but you knew better than to cum without following orders.

so you forced the damned sentence to pass your lips. "'m your pillow princess."

and a coo only fell from the magenta haired girl. "awh, know you are, sweet girl. see? my good girl always listens, doesn't she? huh?" vi tended to ask you questions while knuckles deep in your pussy, she knew you couldn't utter a single word. "you jus' need me to make your poor pussy feel all good, don't you?"

a breathless, "uh-huh." was her answer. "'m close!"

"yeah? gonna be good f'me 'n say please?" of course, vi had to make you beg for it.

"please!" you practically squeaked out as your back arched against the bed.

a chuckle left her lips. "you can do better than that."

and you really, definitely could. but vi had made you all dumb, exactly her plan. "please let me cum, vi. please, need it so bad. please." you repeated the word please in little whispers, unable to hold back the knot in your stomach.

"you're such a good girl, 'course you can cum, baby." she felt your spongy walls suddenly tighten around her fingers. "that's it, sweetheart, cum all over vi's fingers, 's a good girl."

vi pumped her fingers in and out of you, letting you ride out your high like she always did until you were squirming away from her.

she leaned against the bed with a self-loving smirk on her face, hardly glancing your way. you laid next to her, chest falling and rising as you panted out breaths. a beat of silence passed until you spoke up. "vi?" turning your head to her.

"yes, my pillow princess?" she teased.

instantly, a frown fell on your face as you crossed your arms over your chest. she wasn't being fair. "i was gonna say something, now i'm not speaking to you."

"oh, come on." she lifted your face by her thumb to make you look at her again. "no pouting or else i'll have to shut you up all over again."

an idea suddenly fell flat on your head.

your pout deepened.

vi only climbed over you with the smuggest of smirks on her face. "you dirty little slut."

main masterlist/vi's masterlist

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honey-tongued-devil · 2 months ago

Text

↞[arcane preference] founding out you were injured in crossfire↠

Since I've created a Bluesky profile and wrote my thesis on Arcane, I'll be posting both old and new drawings there as soon as the time comes. I'm taking advantage of this little space to promote my other social account. honey-tongued.bsky.social Also, I've received both comments and requests, but Tumblr decided I couldn’t post for a week (my internet connection is terrible). I want to let you know that I appreciate them, and I'll get to everything as soon as I can. So, feel free to leave comments, feedback, or requests!

Jayce:

- This is the worst news he could receive: he's a scholar, he has no idea how to handle these situations, and, most of all, he's forced to confront his pride.

- Not only was he unable to protect you now, but what if it happens again? Even if he's there, he wouldn't know what to do.

- What if there's a next time? What if it doesn't turn out as well next time?

- His self-sabotage leads him to distance himself from you for a few days, not because he doesn't want to be near you while you're hurting, but because he's ashamed of not being able to protect the person he loves.

- On the bright side, for even just a second, he remembers the original purpose of his research: making the city safe, helping people.

- But on the negative side, with no one to blame, more than ever, the people of Zaun appear to him as beasts, second-class humans who can't be redeemed in any way.

- When he finally gathers the courage to see you again, he tries to make amends for everything: for not protecting you, for not being able to, for allowing someone to hurt you, and for not being there during your recovery.

- He'll literally do anything to be forgiven: every morning you'll find breakfast in bed, if it's cold at night he'll prepare a warmer for your feet, and despite his squeamishness, he'll personally tend to your wounds, even if it makes him feel queasy.

Viktor:

- He tries to help you in every way possible, even ignoring his own pain.

- He feels sadness, regrets that you went out alone and ended up in such a situation. He can't help but imagine the fear you must have felt, the confusion, and the loneliness when the guards intervened, and you woke up alone in the hospital.

- He may be a scholar, but first and foremost he's a man with a moral code, and secondly, he's from Zaun: if he has any work, appointments, or lectures, he'll skip them all, maybe muttering a few insults in his thick accent at the most insistent people, and make up for it at night.

- Plans, ideas, codes, anything – but he won't leave you alone unless you ask him to.

- He takes care of you meticulously, respecting schedules, bringing you meals in bed, changing your bandages until your skin heals, and you're able to stand on your own again.

- He doesn't mind helping you – as a chronically ill person who refuses others' help, he's learned to do everything on his own, and he's almost happy that his skills can be useful to someone else.

Ekko:

- Is it something totally normal in the lanes? Yes.

- Does this stop Ekko from panicking? No.

- He's the one who finds you and brings you to the others, but he doesn't want, nor can he afford, to be seen panicking. So, he swallows his despair and tries to act as normal as possible while ten other people rush to help you.

- His face remains expressionless as the most skilled remove debris, clean the wound, stitch your torn flesh, and bandage you, but his foot keeps tapping the floor with force and speed, revealing his anxiety.

- When the others insist that it's best you stay in the makeshift infirmary, he tries not to protest, but suddenly every moment of the day becomes an excuse to pass by: to bring you stolen sweets from Piltover, to tell you about some expedition, maybe even steal a kiss or fall asleep leaning against your mattress.

- It's an overwhelming fear, but the fear of losing you makes him unable to think rationally, and all he feels is how much he misses you, even while you're right there with him.

Vander:

- A crossfire from the other side of the river was already a big enough provocation to alert him and prepare to defend the city or, if absolutely necessary, to strike back.

- But you, as an accidental victim, are a huge problem.

- He doesn’t have the heart to pull away from you, and when he does, he can’t help but feel frustrated, angry at himself, knowing he hasn’t been able to keep his city under control like he promised—to you, to Piltover, to everyone.

- He’ll ask for your forgiveness by kissing the scarred skin every day, even if you insist it’s not his fault, and if you remember even one of the faces, he’ll go and handle the problem.

- Not with violence, unless necessary, but it’s not about personal justice; rather, it’s about protecting the other citizens of the alleys too.

- Even after you’ve healed, he’ll insist it’s absolutely necessary to carry you everywhere you need to go, claiming a very good doctor told him so.

- And the memory of the scar will be tiny compared to all the marks Vander has left on you.

Silco:

- Private justice is absolutely the first option, even though you were an accidental victim.

- He’ll call all his goons and associates for a meeting while you’re still bedridden, to see if they’ve heard, seen, or been involved in any armed conflict, and if he doesn’t get a face or a name from them, he’ll turn to the brothel, the house of all information,

- Until he finds who hurt you and makes sure they can’t do it again.

- Silco isn’t fazed by blood or open wounds, but despite having enough experience to handle it himself, at least on the first day, he’ll take you to Singed to make sure you’re in the best condition.

- In the following days, he’ll take care of you himself, but he has pride, a façade, and little emotional communication skills, so he won’t openly show how worried he is, relying entirely on the fact that you don’t know about the murder of your assailant and remember nothing of the visit to Singed.

- But the only reason you heal so well and so quickly is that, even if he doesn’t know how to express it, all the love he feels is poured into the care he gives you.

Jinx:

- Flashbacks. So many. Too many.

- At some point, she’ll even convince herself that she’s the one who shot you, leading to a complete breakdown.

- She punches her head, scratches herself without realizing it, her nose bleeds, and her eyes are bloodshot.

- It takes her a while to convince herself that she wasn’t the one who shot you, even though the hallucinations overlap images of you with memories of her armed, creating waking nightmares that feel increasingly real.

- As much as she’d like to ask her father for help, even just to give you a cleaner room, she feels responsible and is too scared that if she stays away from you, you’ll forget her. That’s why she sets up a little space for you and takes care of you herself, though not always painlessly.

- She’s pulled bullets out of her own body more times than not after missions; what might seem like dangerous, delicate work to someone else is almost routine for her by now.

- Once she has a suspicion of who might have done it, she’ll make sure they learn their lesson.

Vi:

- Anger.

- Why were you out alone? Why didn’t you leave as soon as you saw the crowd getting too big? Why were you in that area?

- But her anger is just panic pouring out like a flood, the fear of not being able to protect the one she loves twists her stomach, making her feel like she might throw up, like she’s dying inside.

- None of those questions mean she blames you, but she doesn’t know how to feel, what to think, or even what to do.

- She’ll do everything to help you—bandaging you, cleaning your wounds, staying silent and giving her full attention to make up for not being there when you needed her, even though that’s not true.

- And when the scar forms, she’ll kiss it every single day, every single night, like a little ritual between the two of you.

Caitlyn:

- Safety first.

- She’ll be the one to assess how bad the injury is, and if there are any foreign objects in your body, there’s a good chance she’ll try to handle it herself, even though at first it might seem a bit barbaric.

- She’ll give you the guest room and call the family doctor to make sure you’re okay, that you don’t need anything else, and she’ll take care of what’s necessary, even teasing you a bit to hide her worry.

- "A bullet in the leg from being caught in crossfire? Very vintage, I must say."

- What you won’t know is that she’ll quietly increase security, not in an oppressive way, but just enough to make both you and the other citizens feel safer.

- Her family won’t get involved directly, but they won’t stop her either. Sometimes Cassandra herself will make sure her daughter finds the tray to bring up to you, though she’ll never be too open about it.

- The perfect rehabilitation? Long walks in the villa’s garden, so you can stop for some cookies or tea when you get tired.

Mel:

- Flashbacks, but less personal than Jinx’s.

- Her mother would call her weak if she knew how it kills her to see someone barely scratched by crossfire, and that realization soon turns into frustration, which then becomes anger.

- She tries to stay calm, but her voice sounds like she’s scolding you, and then like she’s scolding the servants, or anyone else who crosses her path.

- Two hours of lecture if you’re lucky—why you shouldn’t go out without a guard, why you shouldn’t put yourself in dangerous situations, why the enforcers are utterly useless and can’t find anyone responsible, even though the fight was so intense.

- She’ll focus entirely on the bureaucratic side because little Mel was never taught how to deal with strong emotions, and she’s definitely feeling them now but can’t afford that vulnerability, even though she knows you’re safe.

- She won’t take care of you herself, but she’ll always stay in the room. Not because she doesn’t want to, to be clear, but because she wants you to have the best care possible and prefers to leave it to a top professional rather than her inexperienced hands.

- In return, she’ll triple the amount of affection and caresses—more to calm herself than you, but you won’t be the one to complain.

Sevika:

- She needs a moment.

- She knows she has to report to Silco that there was a firefight, that someone is threatening the people, but part of her just wants to grab those responsible and crush their heads with her bare hands, doing both you and her boss a favor. Yet, another part of her doesn’t want to leave you alone or take you with her.

- She knows how to handle these things; she’s lost an arm, and Silco’s goons often come back in worse shape, which is why she’ll take care of you herself, in complete silence.

- She’ll wait until you’re asleep to place a water bottle, a glass, some painkillers, and some bread on the nightstand next to your bed. And when she’s sure you’re fully asleep, she’ll leave a soft kiss on your forehead before putting on her cloak and heading out to the Last Drop.

- There, she’ll release her anger in a brawl or two, talk to her boss, and search for the reason why she feels so awful at the bottom of her third glass of whiskey.

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forsworned · 4 months ago

Text

Simon has an OnlyFans. It wasn't something he necessarily kept a secret, but it wasn't something he shouted out on the rooftops for all to hear. Just the primal need for being seen while he fisted at his cock in various poses, most of which were requested by you. You who were an avid fan of his.

You really didn't remember how you found him. Maybe you were just absentmindedly scouring the internet for anything to turn you on while you were in the middle of a solo sesh, but either way, you stumbled upon his page. You wasted no time subscribing to the skull-masked man who humbly accepted your request to use a cock ring with a little ghost charm hanging at the end of it.

And his moans—don't even get me started. They're deep, guttural, sexy, and caveman-like and you're creaming at just the mere sound of it.

Truthfully, Simon doesn't even need the money. His price range only goes as high as $5, and for his VIPs, you get exclusive access to all his behind-the-scenes features, one of which includes all the times he mistakenly shoots his cum at his chin.

But it comes off as a shocker to you when its' one of those nights where no matter how many times you make yourself cum, it's not enough. You crave him. Crave to see the way those half-lidded onyx eyes stare down at the camera as he gets off between missions for a quickie.

It's enticing. He's fully clad in his uniform, but his hard, girthy horse cock is out for display. Green veins pulsate against his porcelain skin at his touch and you're squirming at the vibrating wand you place on your clit.

Ping!

Your in-app message notification pop up and you notice the small badge on the messages icon. Thinking it was merely something promotional, you ignore it, but a second ping disrupts your solo love-making session that has you squinting down at your phone.

Curiously, you tapped on the little envelope, tilting your head at the message before tapping on it again.

TacticalHeat: Hey, lovie. How are you doing? I see you've been enjoying my content for some time now. Would you be interested in a private call?xx

Your heart thrums against your chest as your jaw drops to the floor. There was no fuckin' way this was real. It had to be some chatbot or some sort of impersonator, but sure enough you click on the icon and it leads you straight back to the page you were just rubbin one out to.

"Fuck!" You breathe out, throwing your head back as your orgasm spills out of you. You hadn't even noticed the wand still buzzing against your sopping wet pussy, but it leaves you heaving and ready for the next round.

Your fingers hover over your keyboard and you search your mind to say something. It's not like you had a picture on your profile, nor your name, or even a real description on your bio. It was merely a clipart of Snoopy with headphones on bumping to music, a practical choice.

You: I'm good! I can do maybe tomorrow night?"

For some Godforsaken reason, you didn't want to seem to eager, but for what? You literally were messaging on fucking OnlyFans.

Ping!

Your heart drops to your ass at swiftness and the contents of the message.

TacticalHeat: How about now instead?

Part two is here!! 😜

masterlist

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suguann · 6 months ago

Text

✎. he’s nice. well, that’s what everyone’s been telling you.

tags. fem!reader, mild dubcon, possessive and obsessive behavior, simon is an excon, non-linear narrative for future chapters [18+ only]

part one | part two

He’s always been a little obsessed with pretty things, even as a child.

It only makes sense that the habit would follow him into adulthood.

He sees you once while he’s walking by the bus stop. A timid thing wrapped up in an oversized sweater and parka coat, not looking up from the little book in your lap until the bus stops before you and takes you away.

The next time he sees you, he makes sure to come a few minutes earlier, lighting a cigarette and keeping his distance while he watches you read the same book from the day before. Simon knows it’s you, the girl from the letters, even if it’s a big city. It has to be—his pretty, lonely, silly girl.

He thinks about walking up to you just to make sure, but he doesn’t really need to. The address on the envelope brought him here, and you’re the only one he’s seen wearing a university sweater in this neighborhood.

But when he hesitates too long, a boy starts talking to you, and he watches you smile at somebody else.

Simon runs his thumb over his bottom lip and takes a deep breath to fill his chest with the soothing feeling of menthol and the burning taste of nicotine, trying to relax his white-knuckle grip on his steering wheel.

You’ll learn, he thinks, when the bus drives off, and the boy doesn’t follow you on. He’s a patient man—it’s possibly one of his finer qualities.

He lets his car idle as he climbs out before crushing his cigarette bud underneath his shoe, straightening his black tie, and crossing the street. The boy sees him and freezes, but Simon can only laugh, wiping blood off his cheek several seconds later.

You’ll learn.

He’s nice.

Well, that’s what everyone’s been telling you. But nice, you've learned, can mean any number of things: a nice laugh, a nice house, a nice job, et cetera.

But how he holds himself—tall, broad, and dangerous—hardly screams nice.

It’s funny because you don’t remember seeing him around the office before—the company, including IT, occupies only four floors in the building.

Someone tells you he’s a friend of a friend. This initially sounds odd until Rose, the office gossip, says he’s someone rich who helps fund the company's social events. Hence, the crisp suit and the wide berth of space you’d give someone who wields their smile like a weapon.

You quickly look away twice when you find that smile aimed at you, heat traveling up to your hairline at an alarming rate.

It doesn’t matter anyway. He’s not your type.

“Enjoying the party?”

You nearly jump out of your skin at the deep voice so close to your ear. Careful not to spill your drink, you turn your head to find him smiling down at you with a sharp curl of his mouth.

Then he’s in front of you, eyes dark and crinkling in the corners.

“Uh, yeah. It’s not bad, though,” you squeak nervously when you realize you haven’t answered him. “It’s different from what I’m used to.”

He raises an amused brow. “Oh? And what might that be?”

He’s intimidating up close, and you take a small sip of your drink to ease your nerves. “Well, no kegs or trashy music playing, and boys with egos bigger than the room.”

The man lets out a low chuckle as he considers your honest reply, and you swear you see something ripple across his features, but when you blink, it’s gone. “I suppose that differs from top-shelf liquor and live bands, huh? Which is better?”

You shrug. “Well, it depends on who you ask.”

“I’m asking you.”

“Honest answer?”

He nods.

“Neither. I don’t really care for parties.”

“Then it’s quite unfortunate that you found yourself at one tonight.” He seems privately amused, in on a joke you have no part of. Then he says, “You want to get out of here?”

“I probably shouldn’t follow a stranger home,” you tell him bashfully.

“That’s very responsible of you. Then how about I get you a drink? There’s a hotel across the street, and the bar’s not shit.”

You bite your lip, and his big, warm hand is on the small of your back before you say anything. It must’ve been written all over your face like he knew you would say yes.

He’s ever the gentleman, unlike most boys your age. Though, perhaps that’s the difference. He isn’t a boy—nothing about him can hardly be described as such. This fact becomes a bit overwhelming and more evident once he has you on your back, thighs nearly up to your ears, and held in place by a firm, intricately tattooed forearm.

His smile—almost too sharp to be nice—makes your chest do this silly thing when he says, “Let’s play a game.”

You whisper into the night air. “What kind of game?”

“It’s simple. You tell me yes or no.”

Your brows furrow, unsure of the rules of the game. “But—”

The slap against your cunt isn’t harsh, but it’s the suddenness of it, how no one has ever thought to touch you like that, is what makes you squeak and tremble underneath him—the rings on his fingers sharpening the sting—trying to scurry up the bed, but hindered by his iron grip.

“Yes or no?”

“Y-yes.”

“There’s a girl,” and then his fingertips drop down to where you're slippery-wet and sensitive, moving in hard, tight circles until you're clenching down on a curse between your teeth. "Messy little cunt."

It's too much, you think when he plugs two fingers (feeling like three of your own) into your pussy. The muscles in his shoulders roll as he shoves his fingers in and out, batting your hands away when you try to get him to slow down. Too much, too—

“It’s not. I want you to cum like this,” he says, teasing, nudging your clit with his thumb and swirling it in tight spit-slick circles; you have no choice but to chase that bright light feeling until you cum, sticky and sweaty.

Just like he promised you would, your orgasm is a shivery thing, molten heat, incandescent, settling in your veins until it pours out of you like liquid wax against the scratchy hotel sheets, but he doesn’t stop. Instead, his fingers curl up and press into where you’re soft and tender.

He smiles. “This is fun, isn’t it, love?”

“I can’t,” you whimper, not exactly answering him. “No more, please.”

His eyes, already pupil-fat, go dark at hearing you beg, nostrils flaring. Please, the key for the small amount of mercy he grants you as he replaces his fingers with his mouth, pressing a chaste kiss to your clit and lightly sucking it into his mouth. His lips are just there, and then they’re gone.

“Say it again.”

Your response is a wet little hiccup at the back of your throat. “W-what?”

“Beg me.”

“Please.”

“Again,” he says one more time.

“Please, please, please…”

It’s all you can think to say, strung between that dreamy space and reality, that you don’t even notice him flipping you onto your tummy with ease, not until the light in the room is blotted out as he leans over you. He wraps a hand into the scruff of your neck and presses your face into the bed, the other tucked under your hips to keep them at the right angle—held down with nowhere to go.

He leaves biting open-mouthed kisses across your shoulders and the back of your neck—Simon—he manages to tell you his name from one little bruise to the next. Somewhere between the buzz in your ears, you hear him telling you that he wants you to moan it for him, nice and loud.

The haze clears a little, however, at the metal clink of a belt and the sound of a zipper coming undone before you feel his cock prodding you open—raw, without a condom.

“There you go. Lay there, and just—just give me what I fucking want,” Simon rasps as if you could actually move with his hands pinning you in place.

There are many things you should feel: scared of his words, trapped by the rings digging into tender flesh, by his thighs forcefully pushing yours apart. The red flags look more like flashing lights at this point.

Instead, you feel wanted—your walls tighten around his cock, fluttering, pulling him deeper inside, letting him turn you inside out. A small smile buried into the pillow.

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