#but like even though i’m not as into them anymore i still like it it feels authentic

[secretmaniacc]

FILL THE VOID

Pairings: the salesman x Fem!oc

Summary: After avoiding him for two days, she finds herself pinned down as he insists they go out to dinner, just as he promised in their bet. Reluctantly agreeing, she anticipates an elegant evening, but the night quickly takes an exciting and dangerous turn.

Warnings: slow burn, language, violence, Dom!salesman x baddie!oc, teasing, degrading, kissing, gun play, Russian roulette, knife play, semi public sex, hair pulling, mentions of blood, oral sex, male recieving, p in v, rough sex, spanking.

Wc: 6.2k

A/n: so sorry for the wait here’s pt.2 for “ride or die” since some of y’all liked it and I’m very happy for that, did some justice this time and spiced it up they can be out of character sometime so forgive me, hope y’all will enjoy it really worked hard on this one, not proofread <3

For two days, she’d managed to avoid him—strategically timing her office hours to when he wasn’t there, ignoring his messages, and pretending not to notice the way he seemed to linger just out of reach. But deep down, she knew it was only a matter of time before he caught up with her. 

That time came at the end of a long day when she thought she was safe. She gathered her things and prepared to turn around and head towards the door, only to feel a familiar presence.

“Thought you could avoid me forever?” His voice was low, smooth, and infuriatingly smug. 

Her hand tightened on the strap of her bag as she turned, schooling her features into something calm and unaffected. “I’m busy. Move.” 

He grinned, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Busy ignoring me? Impressive effort, but I don’t take silence well.” 

“I’m not ignoring you,” she lied, stepping forward to brush past him. 

His arm shot out, blocking her path. “Really? Then why haven’t you answered my messages? Or were you too busy pondering about how much fun we had in the alley?” 

“I don’t owe you an explanation,” she shot back, her tone clipped as she tried to push past him again. 

But this time, he shifted, moving to block her entirely and locking the door with a quick twist of his wrist. The faint click of the lock sent a chill down her spine, though she refused to show it. 

“Let me go,” she said, keeping her voice steady even as she felt her pulse quicken. 

He leaned back against the door, his arms crossed lazily, as though he had all the time in the world. “Not until we settle something.” 

She arched a brow, masking her unease with irritation. “And what’s so important that you’re resorting to theatrics?” 

His grin widened, his gaze sparkling with that insufferable confidence. “I’m a man of my word. And I promised to take you to dinner, didn’t I? Unless, of course, you’d rather recall how I made you feel so good in the alley.” 

She blinked, caught off guard by the reminder. “That was two days ago. It doesn’t matter anymore.” 

“It matters to me.” He stepped closer, the teasing edge in his voice making her heart stutter. “You won, fair and square. So, dinner. Tonight.” 

“Not happening,” she said firmly, though the conviction in her voice wavered slightly. 

He tilted his head, studying her with mock curiosity. “Why so stubborn? Afraid you’ll enjoy it?” 

Her jaw tightened. “I’m just not interested.” 

“You’re lying.” 

She glared at him, determined not to let him see how her resolve faltered under the weight of his gaze. “You’re impossible.” 

“And you’re avoiding the truth,” he countered, stepping closer until there was barely a breath of space between them. “But that’s fine. Say no if you want—I’ll still show up outside your door.” 

“You wouldn’t dare,” she said, though the uncertainty in her voice made her doubt her own words. 

“Try me,” he challenged, his tone light but his intent clear. 

She sighed, her shoulders sagging slightly in defeat. “Fine. One dinner. But don’t make a habit of this.” 

His grin broadened, a glimmer of triumph lighting up his face. “Perfect. Wear something elegant—something that’ll fit the place. I expect you’ll be just as stunning as you were in the alley” 

“Excuse me?” 

He ignored her indignation, leaning in close enough for his breath to ghost against her cheek. His lips brushed lightly against her skin, leaving behind the faintest trace of warmth. “See you tonight,” he murmured before stepping aside and unlocking the door. 

She stared at him, momentarily thrown by the unexpected gesture. The smug look on his face only made her irritation flare, and she pushed past him with a sharp, “Don’t be late.” 

As she walked away, she tried to ignore the fluttering in her stomach, brushing it off as nothing more than irritation. But the faint smile tugging at her lips told a different story. 

-----

She stood before the full-length mirror, the soft glow of her bedroom light catching the gentle shimmer of her crimson dress. The bodice hugged her figure like it was made for her, the delicate cowl neckline draping gracefully across her collarbones, while the fabric flowed into a silky skirt that brushed the floor with every subtle movement. Her long, black hair fell in effortless curls to her waist, framing her face with a touch of timeless elegance. A sheer wrap rested loosely on her arms, adding a layer of ethereal softness that seemed to dance with every step. 

Her phone buzzed on the dresser, pulling her from her thoughts. She glanced down to see his text: "I’ll be there in five." Letting out a small breath, she grabbed her purse, gave herself one last look, and headed downstairs. 

The evening air was cool as she stepped outside, heels clicking softly against the pavement. There he was, leaning casually against a sleek black Audi A6, its polished exterior gleaming under the streetlights. He wore a tailored black suit that framed his tall, broad figure perfectly, paired with a crisp white shirt and a black tie that added a sharp elegance to his appearance. His dark hair was neatly styled, though a rebellious strand fell over his forehead, softening his otherwise sharp features. 

As she approached, his gaze locked on her, a flicker of admiration crossing his face before he straightened and stepped toward her. Without a word, he took her hand, lifting it to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. 

“You look breathtaking,” he murmured, his voice smooth yet sincere, his eyes holding hers for just a moment longer than necessary. 

A faint blush warmed her cheeks, but she managed a small, teasing smile. “You don’t look too bad yourself.” 

His lips twitched into a smirk as he opened the passenger door for her, gesturing for her to step inside. 

She settled into the plush leather seat, the soft scent of new car and faint cologne filling the space. The interior was sleek, with polished silver accents and an impressive digital dashboard glowing faintly in the dim light. She trailed her fingers over the armrest, the comfort and luxury surprising her. 

“You own this?” she asked, glancing at him as he slipped into the driver’s seat, his hands confidently gripping the wheel. 

He chuckled softly. “Why? Did you think I’d show up in something less fitting?” 

She shook her head, amused but still impressed, as they drove in silence toward their destination.  He would make teasing comments here and there that earned a chuckle from her.

The car pulled up to one of the most elegant restaurants in town, its grand facade glowing with soft golden lights. Outside, a long line of patrons waited eagerly, some dressed to the nines, chatting in anticipation. 

Her brows lifted in surprise at the sight. “You didn’t mention this place,” she said, her voice laced with curiosity. 

Before he could respond, two security guards stepped forward, opening her door with practiced precision. One took the keys from him while the other escorted them toward the entrance. She noticed how the murmuring crowd shifted, heads turning as they walked past. 

The guards held the doors open as they entered, bowing slightly in his direction. She bowed back out of respect, but he merely did, wrapping his arm around her waist as they stepped into the opulent dining area. 

The restaurant was stunning. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over tables draped in crisp white linens. Floor-to-ceiling windows revealed a breathtaking view of the city skyline, and a soft melody from a grand piano filled the air with an elegant ambiance. 

They were guided to a private table near the window, the staff pulling out her chair as she sat. As he took his seat across from her, she leaned in slightly, her tone playful. 

“Care to explain why everyone is treating you like you’re some mafia boss?” 

He chuckled, resting his chin on his hand as he looked at her. “Let’s just say I know how to make an impression.” 

She rolled her eyes, but a smirk tugged at her lips. “Oh, I’m sure you do.” 

The waitress approached with a professional yet warm smile, handing them menus. “Welcome. May I offer you something to start with?” 

She glanced at the menu, the luxurious options catching her off guard. “Are there any prices on this thing, or do we just guess?” she quipped, arching an eyebrow at him. 

He laughed softly. “Don’t worry, dinner’s on me. Feel free to splurge.” 

She smirked, leaning back in her chair. “Good, because I was planning to order the most expensive thing just to annoy you.” 

“Be my guest,” he replied smoothly, his grin teasing. “But I hope you know that means dessert is non-negotiable.” 

her eyes scanning the intricate names of dishes written in french. Brows furrowed, she tilted the menu closer as if the words would magically make sense the second time around. 

“What is... uh, rat-a-tou-ille??” she sounded out slowly, glancing up at him with genuine curiosity. 

His lips curved into an amused smile. “Ratatouille. It’s a vegetable dish—stewed with tomatoes, zucchini, eggplant, and herbs. Simple but classic..” 

“Oh, okay. That doesn’t sound too bad,” she nodded before her eyes caught another word. “And this one? Coq... au vin??” 

“Coq au vin” he corrected with a small laugh. “Chicken braised in red wine with mushrooms and bacon. Very traditional.”.” 

She tapped her chin with her finger, pretending to consider it seriously, then moved on to another dish. “Bou-ya... bouillabaisse?” 

“Bouillabaisse,” he supplied smoothly. “.It’s a fish stew with a mix of seafood, Want me to keep translating, or are you planning to make me read the whole menu for you?” 

She shot him a playful glare. “Hey, these names are intimidating, okay? I didn’t grow up speaking fluent…. Uh, whatever this is."

“french” he said, unable to suppress the laugh that bubbled out. “I have to admit, though, this clueless act of yours is kind of adorable.”

She rolled her eyes, heat rising to her cheeks. “Whatever. I’ll just stick to this one.” She pointed to a dish she didn’t recognize but liked the sound of. 

When he glanced at his menu filled with prices unlike hers, his smirk grew wider. “Interesting choice,” he mused, leaning back in his chair. 

“What?” she asked suspiciously. 

“Nothing,” he said, clearly holding back a laugh. “Just that it’s the cheapest thing on the menu.” 

Her jaw dropped. “Are you serious?” 

He nodded, still grinning. “Repick. Or I’ll do it for you.” 

She groaned, flipping through the menu again. “Fine. You pick.” 

He didn’t even look at her menu, already knowing it by heart. “Filet de boeuf Rossini,” he said confidently.

Her eyes widened slightly. “That sounds... fancy.”

“It’s perfect,” he replied with a wink. “Trust me.”

The waitress returned, taking his order for a sole meunière and hers for the beef Rossini. “And a bottle of Château d’Yquem,” he added casually.

When the waitress nodded and walked away, she raised an eyebrow. “Château d’Yquem? What’s that?”

“You’ll see,” he replied cryptically.

Moments later, the waitress returned with a sleek silver ice bucket, placing it on the table with a bottle of golden wine nestled inside. The light caught the liquid, making it shimmer, and her eyes widened as realization hit.

“This is wine?” she asked, pointing to the bottle. 

“Not just any wine,” he said, pouring a glass with practiced ease. “It’s... exclusive.” 

“How exclusive?” she pressed.

He took a slow sip, his lips curving into a knowing smile. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Her eyes widened. “You’re drinking liquid gold?”

He laughed at her incredulous expression, his voice rich with amusement. “Relax. Tonight’s on me, remember?”

She rolled her eyes, leaning back in her chair. “You’re infuriating, you know that?”

“Part of my charm,” he replied with a wink, setting his glass down.

Silence evoked as the air in the restaurant shimmered with quiet luxury, a symphony of muted chatter, piano tunes and crystal clinks filling the room. She leaned back against the chair, her delicate fingers tracing absent patterns on the edge of the table. Her gaze flickered toward the expansive window, the city lights sprawling like a living canvas. There was an effortless grace to her, the way her crimson dress caught the glow of the chandeliers, the silk shifting like liquid fire with her every move.

He couldn’t look away.

His pupils sharpened with intensity as he studied her, the soft curve of her jawline, the way her lips parted slightly as she sighed in quiet awe. Her black hair, cascading in soft curls to her waist, gleamed under the golden light. She was a vision, suspended somewhere between elegance and rebellion, her beauty a contradiction he couldn’t quite define but didn’t want to stop trying to.

She tilted her head, her profile catching the faint light of the chandelier, and his breath hitched. As he took a sip of his whiskey, the taste burned less than the thought that this moment—her, here, now—felt like something he shouldn’t deserve.

He smirked at himself, shaking his head slightly. Get a grip.

But then she glanced back at him, catching his stare, her brow arching in question. “What?” she asked, her voice laced with curiosity.

“Nothing,” he replied, his smirk deepening as he set his glass down. “Just taking it all in.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight the slight tug of a smile at the corner of her lips.

Moments later their food arrived, the rich aroma wafting from her plate made her mouth water. She picked up her fork, taking a cautious bite. The moment the tender beef hit her taste buds, her eyes fluttered shut, and a soft hum of delight escaped her lips. 

“This is... amazing,” she said, already diving in for another bite. 

He watched her, captivated by the way she was completely absorbed in her food. Every little sound she made—those happy, involuntary noises—pulled his attention. For a moment, the bustling restaurant around them disappeared, leaving only her. 

“You’re staring, again.” she said suddenly, snapping him out of his daze. 

“You make it hard not to,” he admitted with a small smile. 

She flushed, quickly taking another bite. “Just eat your food, so we can get done” she muttered. 

He chuckled, cutting into his fish. They settled into a comfortable rhythm, exchanging light banter between bites. At one point, she attempted to spear a piece of his fish with her fork, but he caught her wrist with a grin. 

“Ah, ah. That’s mine,” he teased. 

“Sharing is caring,” she retorted, but he held firm, playfully shaking his head. 

He shook his head with exaggerated defiance, a sly grin tugging at his lips. “You want it that bad? Beg for it.”

She narrowed her eyes, “‘Never mind,’” she said, her voice thick with sarcasm as she went back to eat.

He chuckled, leaning closer. “Come on, don’t act like you didn’t do it.”

“That’s it, I’m leaving,” she said, standing up abruptly and grabbing her bag.

He burst into laughter, his gaze never leaving her. “I’m messing with you,” he said, grabbing her wrist gently and pulling her back into the chair.

She shot him a glare, crossing her arms. “You’re impossible.”

“But you love it,” he replied, giving her an amused smirk.

She sighed, reaching for her glass of water. As her gaze drifted across the room, it landed on a couple at a nearby table—so engrossed in each other they might as well have been the only two people in the restaurant. The man’s hand rested on the small of the woman’s back, and their faces were inches apart, whispering between soft kisses.

Her nose wrinkled. “Ugh. Get a room,” she muttered, her voice dripping with disdain.

He followed her line of sight, his brow arching before a low chuckle escaped his lips. “Jealous?”

She snapped her head back to him, her eyes narrowing. “Jealous? Please. That’s gross. There’s a time and place for that sort of thing, and it’s not next to someone trying to enjoy a meal.”

His grin widened as he leaned back, clearly enjoying her reaction. “You’re awfully opinionated for someone who didn’t seem to mind when I kissed you.”

Her cheeks flushed instantly. “That was different!”

“Oh, was it?” he teased, his tone playfully smug. “Because if I recall, you were the one leaning in first.”

Her jaw dropped. “I was not! You were the one who couldn’t keep it together and kissed me like some—”

“Like what?” he interrupted, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Someone who’s not afraid to take a chance?”

She glared at him, struggling to find a comeback that wouldn’t dig her deeper into the hole. “You’re crazy,” she finally huffed, crossing her arms again.

“not as much as you,” he replied, his smirk softening just enough to make her annoyed

The unspoken tension hung like a storm cloud between them, unshakably present as they lingered in that charged moment. “Are you actually saying you wish you were that couple?” he asked, leaning in with a seriousness that made her heart constrict.

Her heart raced at his words, a flutter of uncertainty and curiosity mixing with annoyance. “I just think PDA is a bit much!” she shot back, a hint of defensiveness creeping into her voice. “I mean, can’t people keep it to themselves?”

“Really?” he challenged, his voice low, brushing against her ear as he leaned closer. “Or maybe you’re just afraid of what it could feel like to let loose, to feel something real for once?”

Her breath caught in her throat as a rush of heat spread across her cheeks. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she shot back, a desperate edge in her voice. She could feel the tension weave between them like a live wire, crackling with possibility.

“Maybe I do,” he replied, that daring glint in his eye making her pulse quicken. “Maybe you just need the right moment to let go.”

The couple at the table nearby erupted in laughter again, and she found herself glancing back at them, trying to refocus. But when she looked up, he was watching her with an intensity that made her skin tingle. “Forget them,” he said, his voice dropping an octave, pulling her even further into his orbit. “What do you want? Something real? Or more of this… competition?”

Before she could formulate a response, he suddenly stood, extending a hand toward her. “Come with me.”

“Where?” she asked, hesitating but feeling a rush of adrenaline at the thought of doing something entirely unexpected.

“A place where we can talk,” he replied, a challenge sparking in his eyes. “Unless you’re too scared to follow.”

With her heart racing and her mind swirling with uncertainty, she placed her hand in his. He led her through the restaurant’s bustling dining area, weaving through startled diners and busy waitstaff. But there was no turning back. The thrill of being drawn into the unknown ignited something within her.

They approached a door at the back of the restaurant, and she felt both exhilarated and apprehensive. He flung it open, and they stepped into a dimly lit hallway lined with fancy doors that seemed to whisper secrets.

“Seriously, where are we?” she asked, blinking in the low light as confusion mixed with an adrenaline high.

“Somewhere more private,” he replied, his voice low and dangerous, eyes flickering with mischief and something deeper. “We won’t be interrupted here.”

Her pulse raced, excitement and fear coiling in her stomach. “Is this your idea of romance?” she shot back, the challenge lacing her voice, even as heat coursed through her.

“Maybe it’s just my idea of taking risks,” he countered, stepping closer, the space between them charged in a way that made her skin tingle. “You might even enjoy it.”

The energy shifted as they stood beneath the dim glow of the overhead light, their breaths mingling in the tight space. She caught herself wanting to feel the weight of his words, the electricity in the air. “What if someone catches?” she asked, half playful and half serious, but the way he was looking at her made her thrill with curiosity.

“Let them,” he said, eyes smouldering, stepping closer until there was barely any space left between them. “Are you really going to back down now?”

She felt a rush of defiance surge within her, mixed with undeniable attraction. “I’m not afraid,” she said boldly, but her voice wavered slightly, betraying the thrill and lust she was trying to suppress.

“Then let’s find out how dangerous this might get,” he murmured, his breath hot against her ear, igniting the adrenaline coursing through her veins.

With that, he turned on his heel, pulling her deeper into the hall, and she felt her heart pounding with excitement and uncertainty. Each step into the unknown only drew them closer together, and she couldn't shake the thrill of what lay ahead—the thrilling uncertainty,

He paused in front of an ornate door that looked far more expensive than the rest, its golden handle glinting in the dim light. With a knowing smirk, he pushed it open, and she was met with an intoxicating scent—rich cologne mingling with something deeper, something intimate that tugged at her senses.

As they stepped inside, the atmosphere shifted dramatically. The room was lavishly decorated, a blend of modern luxury and classic elegance. An oversized leather couch sat in the center along with a table, surrounded by walls adorned with vibrant artwork that seemed to pull her in. Warm lights cast a cozy glow, and a plush rug covered the floor, offering a sense of comfort veiled in sultriness.

“wow,” she breathed, taking in the opulence, momentarily forgetting the tension simmering between them.

“Sit,” he commanded softly, gesturing toward the couch. She hesitated for only a moment before obeying, settling into the soft fabric while he moved around the room, his gaze scanning various items scattered about—a vintage record player, a collection of intriguing books, and an array of exotic liquor bottles.

Stopping at a sleek display cabinet, he opened the door and pulled out a pistol, its silver surface gleaming in the warm light. A grin played across his lips as he turned to face her, an unsettling excitement dancing in his eyes.

“We’re going to play a game,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “Russian roulette.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “Are you serious?”

“Relax.” He waved his hand dismissively, the light glinting off the barrel. “Only this time, we’re playing with a twist. There’s only one bullet, and each time the gun goes off, we have to strip a piece of clothing.”

A mix of thrill and apprehension surged through her. “That’s insane.”

“Maybe,” he replied, his smirk deepening, “but wouldn’t it be fun?”

With a defiant spark in her eyes, she leaned forward. “Fine, let’s play.”

He sat across from her, the couch sinking slightly under his weight, and loaded the bullet into the chamber with a casualness that both intrigued and unnerved her. He spun the cylinder and brought the gun to his temple, pulling the trigger—click. He laughed, a dark sound that echoed in the room,

“Not so scary, right?” he teased, loosening his suit jacket. With a fluid motion, revealing a fitted dress shirt that clung to his frame, accentuating the muscular definition of his arms and shoulders. The sight made her pulse quicken

“Your turn.” He passed the gun to her.

She arched an eyebrow but took the gun, feeling its weight in her hand. She couldn’t believe they were doing this. She spun the cylinder herself, heart racing, and then pressed it to her temple. Click. A rush of relief washed over her.

“Now it’s time to shed that scarf,” he said with a teasing tone. With a quick, decisive movement, she untied the delicate fabric and let it fall to the floor, feeling freer, more emboldened.

“Here you go,” she responded, tossing the gun back to him. The tension was tangible as he caught it effortlessly.

filled with a languid confidence. “Ready?” He pressed the barrel once more to his temple—click. The sound rang through the air like a taunt, a challenge freighted with electricity.

“Lucky again,” he grinned, a spark of mischief in his eyes.

“What’s next? Your shirt?” she quipped, eager to see how far this would go.

His gaze flicked to her, a knowing smile playing on his lips as he loosens the tie taking it off, before he began to unbutton his crisp white dress shirt. With each button undone, the cloth pulled away to reveal the chiselled muscles of his torso, the defined lines and curves making her breathless. He threw the shirt aside, letting it flutter to the ground like a fallen banner of surrender.

She couldn’t help but take in the sight, her breath momentarily caught in her throat. she breathed, both impressed and challenged by the game they were playing.

“Like what you see? Now it’s your turn,” he teased, giving her the gun once more, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

She took the gun, spun the cylinder yet again, and pressed it against her temple—click. Relief flooded her, but the tension was palpable.

“Let’s play it safe,” she decided, slipping off her heels and leaving her feet bare on the plush rug beneath her. The contact with the soft Fibers felt grounding after the intensity of the game.

“Back to me,” he said, taking the gun from her hands once more. He spun the cylinder, glancing at her with that effortless chill. “Here we go.”

With a languid movement, he pressed the cold metal against his own temple, a shrug of confidence reflecting in his posture. He squeezed the trigger—click. The sound reverberated, leaving an unsettling silence in its wake.

She felt a small knot of apprehension twist in her stomach. Could they keep going like this? The stakes were rising, and she felt the rush of adrenaline coursing through her veins.

He turned to her, offering her the gun again. “Your turn. Only two triggers are left, make sure not to die.”

With a mixture of determination and nerve, she accepted the gun from him. Her heart raced as she spun the cylinder for what felt like the hundredth time.

He stood to remove his shoes, casually tossing them to the side. That simple act ignited something within her, a thrilling edge of power and vulnerability. Just as he prepared to sit down, she lunged forward with a sudden burst of resolve.

With a swift motion, she pinned him against the couch, the gun now aimed firmly at his chest.

"What’s the matter?" he teased, the laughter in his eyes shifting to something darker. “Afraid you will die?”

“Not a chance,” she challenged, taking a seat on his lap, her pulse racing. In a moment of reckless defiance, she kept the gun pointed at him. “You think this is a game?”

He laughed, a wild, psychotic sound that echoed against the walls. his hands resting firmly on her waist, the gun now pressed against his chest as he leaned in closer. “I love it when you take charge.”

“You’re going to regret underestimating me,” she said, catching a glimpse of the wild delight dancing in his eyes.

“so it’s Game over for me?” he taunted, his words dripping with boldness. His hands slowly wandered to her thighs, fingers teasing, sending pulses of electricity coursing through her. “Shame, really. I’d hate to die without pleasuring you.”

Her breath hitched at his insinuation, his cocky demeanour igniting an uncontrollable fire within her. The tension crackled like static in the air, urging her to respond.

“You wish.” she said, her voice wavering slightly with the rush of emotions surging through her.

With a fury of need and desire, she leaned in and captured his lips in a fervent kiss, their mouths colliding in an explosion of pent-up frustration and attraction. The world around them melted away as her heart raced. The moment was electric, and in the whirlwind of passion, she pulled the trigger.

But all that followed was a click.

The sound ricocheted in the silence between them, and her eyes widened in shock as she pulled away. The thrill morphed into a dizzying rush as realization struck—there had been no bullet, no fatal ending, only the raw, intoxicating energy swirling in the air between them.

That's when he took the gun from her hands, his movements quick and decisive, a spark of defiance in his eyes. With a swift motion, he tossed it across the room, the gun landing with a loud thud against the wall.

“If you wanted my tongue against you, then you’ve fucking earned it,” he spat, crashing their lips together in a fierce, hungry kiss.

Her hands tangled in his hair, tugging tightly, igniting a low groan that reverberated into her mouth.

"You wanted to fucking kill me, sweetheart," he growled, biting her bottom lip, eliciting a sharp whimper from her.

“It was your game,” she countered, the adrenaline pulsing through her like fire.

“And yet,” he replied, his voice dark and sultry, “I’d never kill you.”

“I wouldn’t either.” She pulled back, a smirk curving her lips as her eyes roamed over his swollen lips and messy hair, an enticing sight.

“So, why did you aim that gun at me? Say it.”

“Because I was too damn scared, you’d do it instead of me,” she admitted, feeling his grip on her loosen slightly.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you really know how to make a scene,” he murmured, his fingers deftly unbuckling his belt with confidence.

“Kneel,” he demanded, helping her rise before guiding her down so she knelt on the floor, her dress cascading around her like a waterfall.

“You want to act like a little slut? Then suck until your mouth isn’t filthy,” he spat, and she flashed him a smirk as she slid his pants down, revealing his hard on.

Her hand wrapped around the base of him, moving up and down slowly, the rhythm sending soft growls of pleasure from his lips. As she continued pumping back and forth, in a rhythmic pattern the more he strived for her lips.

“Did you not hear me? I said suck,” he snapped, frustration threading through his tone.

She tilted her head, feigning innocence. “You call me a slut yet can’t wait a moment longer?” With a teasing glimmer in her eyes, she leaned forward, taking his tip into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it while maintaining a steady rhythm with her hand. His breath hitched, a bead of sweat forming on his chest as he succumbed to the jolting pleasure.

Without warning he bunched her hair up in his fist and pushed his tip to the back of her throat, thrusting himself deeper into her mouth until she gagged. The sight of her watering eyes only seemed to rile him up.

“Look how fucking beautiful you are, my darling. Take all of me, just like the good whore you are," he breathed, pleasure dripping from his words.

Her eyes glistened with tears. and he watched her head bob back and forth.

"fuck I'm going to—" he gasped, releasing her head and pulling back slightly. But before he could finish himself off, she caught his hand, her determination surging, and continued, letting the warm liquid hit the back of her throat while he moaned, curses spilling from his lips until he finished.

He fixed his gaze on her as she swallowed every drop, wiping her bottom lip clean with a satisfied smile. “You’re not finishing with me down here,” she challenged, cheeky confidence returning.

“Insanity suits you,” he replied, standing and holding out a hand to help her rise. “Now let’s see just how wet you are for me.”

He led her to the table, and a surge of vulnerability washed over her as he slammed her against it giving him full access to her clit, while her stomach pressed against the polished wood. His hands roamed the insides of her thighs, and she softly moans as he moved her lace underwear to the side, his fingers brushing against her trembling skin

Grabbing a fistful of her hair, he pulled her head back, connecting their lips once more, sucking on her bottom lip. After He released her hair, his hand quickly found her clit, eliciting a moan that was both pleasure and pain.

“Make a scene, sweetheart. Let everyone hear how much you enjoy this," he seethed, delivering a sharp smack that made her gasp, her stomach hitting the table harder.

As he moved her dress out of the way, he slowly removed her thong. Her grip tightened on the table's edges, anticipation thrumming in her veins. But just as she exhaled, he pressed a blade to her neck, drawing a gasp from her lips as he grabbed another fistful of hair to pull her back.

“I’m going to fuck you until you beg to finish, sweetheart,” he said, his voice a low growl. “But this is on my terms. Move too much, and your blood will splatter.” She nodded slowly, and without warning he pushed himself inside of her.

She gasped, feeling every inch of him stretching her, she felt his eyes darken with lust as he fucked her against the table. Each powerful thrust accompanied by the sound of the table squeaking beneath her, the blade scratched at her skin making her hiss at the foreign pain of the knife grazing her neck.

“you like that? hmm” he asked, delight etched in his expression.

“I do. It hurts," she admitted, breathless.

“Tell me to stop,”

But the words caught in her throat, her senses overwhelmed as the blade pressed deeper, and she couldn't help but roll her eyes back in pleasure.

“ But that's the thing, you like that huh? You don't have to hide what you truly want. I know you like this blade at your neck. Watch how good you take my dick slut" he groaned into her ear picking up the pace and she could already feel herself coming close to finishing.

A few more cuts on her neck and he flipped her over, her back colliding with the table, the sharp contrast of sensations sending goosebumps over her skin.

He poured his focus on the cuts, pressing kisses over the crimson marks as the metallic taste lingered in the air. The euphoric mix of pain and pleasure sent her into a frenzy, her nails digging into his bare back as he slipped himself back inside of her her.

“You won’t be the only one leaving this room marked,” she moaned in between their kisses. Both of them cursing and filling the room with the sound of their pleasure.

Their bodies moved in sync, letting the euphoria continue and their pace become sloppy. a dangerous dance of desire and desperation, the air thick with their shared moans and whispered curses.

“I’m gonna—"

“Not yet,” he interrupted, the tension in his voice low and commanding.

“I can't—” she yelped when he stopped, a sharp smack to her ass, only hard enough to sting.

“You can, and you will,” he grunted, slamming into her again, her hips bucking against him as he threw her leg onto his shoulder, pushing deeper. His penetrating gaze bore into her, making sure she didn’t disobey.

“Beg if you wanna finish.”

“Please,” she pleaded, breathless urgency coloring her voice.

“You're mine. Never forget that. Got it?" he growled. She hummed in agreement.

“Use your words,”

“Yes, yes, I’m yours, please—”

“I know, sweetheart. I know. Cum for me. Be a good girl,” he murmured, and she quickly became undone. After a couple more strokes he finished after, his head rolling back in delight.

Her legs quivering and the short circuit of her brain stopping for just a moment. It was almost as if her body was made to be with him alone, each pulse and surge a beautiful convergence of pleasure and pain.

He tucked himself back before effortlessly lifting her off the table. Her feet barely touched the floor before her legs wobbled beneath her, struggling to support her weight.

"I can’t walk," she muttered, clutching the edge of the table for support, the remnants of their passion still buzzing in her veins.

"What was that?" he asked, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

"You heard me. Shut up and help me stand up," she sneered, irritation mingling with the lingering satisfaction in her tone.

He rolled his eyes, but his expression softened as he stepped closer, wrapping an arm around her waist to keep her upright. "Alright, sweetheart. I’ve got you," he murmured, his voice low and steady. With gentle firmness, he helped her regain her footing, guiding her away from the table as she leaned into him.

They took a few tentative steps, and he chuckled again, the sound warm against her ear. "You really know how to make things interesting."

“Oh, shut up,” she replied, though a smile betrayed her annoyance. “You’re lucky I’m even standing,” she added with a playful roll of her eyes.

“Lucky? I was thinking of round two,” he shot back with a grin, winking at her as they made their way towards the couch. Unaware of long night they’re about to witness.

part 1

[woniedarlin]

He listens while you yap

pairings: boyfriend! enhypen x reader | listener x yapper trope

caution: be prepared for their randomness (•‿•)

author's note: This is my first time trying something like this, and I thought, why not switch things up? If you enjoyed it and want more like this, just let me know! Happy reading!

permanent tag list: @sol3chu @chlorinecake @13tter @jung1w0n

HEESEUNG

You explained an article you found earlier and made an especially interesting point. “So, apparently, there’s this theory about how—wait, are you even listening?” you paused mid-sentence then glancing up at Heeseung.

He was just staring at you the entire time.

“Am I talking too much?” you asked, feeling embarrassed. Was he bored? You might have been talking for hours...well, you were.

“I’m sorry,” you added. Feeling guilty.

Heeseung tilted his head slightly. His lips formed a gentle smile that quickly made you feel comfortable. “No, not at all. I’m just listening,” he said gently. “You always have the most interesting things to say.”

You blinked. For a moment, you were caught off guard by his words.. “Really? Because I’m pretty sure I’m just rambling about random stuff half the time.”

He chuckled softly while shaking his head. “Not to me. You make even the most ordinary things sound extraordinary. Like you’re breathing life into them.”

“Come on, that’s a bit much,” you teased though you were shy with his words.

He shook his head slowly. “It’s not. You could talk about the lifespan of jellyfish, and I’d still want to hear every word.”

You laughed. “Seriously? Jellyfish?”

“Yup,” he said with a grin. Heeseung’s eyes crinkling at the corners. “I don’t think you realize how much I enjoy hearing you talk.”

You looked at him for a moment. Your laughter turned into a warmer feeling. “You always know how to make me feel special, right?”

Heeseung smiled more. “I’m just telling the truth. You’re the one who makes everything feel special.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you couldn’t help but grin. “You’re too good at this, you know. No wonder everyone’s always talking about how sweet you are.”

He lightly shrugged. “Only for you.”

JAY

You plopped down next to Jay on the couch, “Last night, I dreamed I was a bottle of ketchup,” you said, not even glancing at him.

Jay didn’t even look up from what he was doing, though you knew he was listening. “Oh?”

“Yeah. And you were mustard. Which is weird because you’re usually mayonnaise in my dreams.” You said it matter-of-factly.

Jay glanced over at you and gave a small smile. Your boyfriend didn’t even question it anymore.

“Mhm. We were sitting on a picnic table, minding our own business,” you continued, staring blankly ahead. “Then this kid comes over, grabs you, and squeezes you all over a hot dog.”

“Of course,” Jay muttered, his smile still there.

“And then they grabbed me and put me on french fries,” you said, your voice now lighter. “But even though we were on different foods, we ended up on the same plate.”

Jay gave you a soft look. “Of course you did.”

“Yup. It’s like… no matter what, we always end up together,” you said nonchalantly. “Even if we’re on different things, we’ll always end up on the same plate.”

Jay didn’t react much, just looking at you with that same fond smile. “Ketchup and mustard, huh? That’s one way to put it.”

“Yep.” You nodded as if you were completely confident in the analogy. “It’s like fate, you know?”

Jay leaned back. “Fate. Of course. You’re the ketchup, and I’m the mustard.”

“Exactly,” you said, kicking your legs a little. “I mean, I’m obviously the star of the show, but you do make a good sidekick.”

Jay laughed quietly to himself, shaking his head. “You’re the star, hm?”

“Of course,” you said, completely unfazed, “but you still belong next to me.”

“Right,” Jay replied with a small, affectionate smile. “Next to you, always.”

And just like that, he continues to look at you with the same smile as you continue to talk, absolutely in love with you.

JAKE

You were pacing around the room, hands gesturing wildly as you went off about the movie you’d just watched. “And don’t even get me started on the plot twist—like, I saw it coming from a mile away! But, still, how could they—ugh, I can’t wrap my head around it!”

Jake sat on the couch with one arm stretched across the backrest. “Go on, tell me more,” he said, his voice smooth and teasing.

“Okay, but can we talk about that scene? The main character falls—of course—and she’s like, ‘Save yourself!’” You rolled your eyes dramatically. “Like, girl, what? Just get up! Run with your friend! Why are you making it so dramatic?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, clearly holding back a laugh.

You kept going, utterly oblivious to his gaze. “I mean, realistically, if I fall, I’m grabbing your arm and dragging you down with me. We’re both going down. There’s no ‘save yourself’ moment. You’re coming with me.”

Jake chuckled, shaking his head. “Good to know.”

“And the friend?” you continued, throwing your hands up. “She’s just standing there, like, ‘Noooo!’ for too long. Like, hello? Help her up and run!”

Jake leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You’d definitely survive in a movie.”

“Oh, absolutely,” you said, pointing at him. “I’m not wasting time with emotional goodbyes. We’re both making it out, or no one is.”

Jake grinned, his voice dropping just slightly. “So, you’d save me?”

You froze for a second before narrowing your eyes. “Obviously. I’d even ensure you didn’t trip in the first place.”

He laughed softly. “And here I was, thinking you’d be the one tripping on purpose just to get me to catch you.”

Your jaw dropped. “I would NOT!”

Jake smirked. “You totally would.”

“I’d be saving both of us!”

“You’re hot,”

You froze. “What?”

“You heard me,” he said.

Of course, he had to flirt.

You crossed your arms tighter, fighting back a smile. “Okay… what? That’s random. You’re distracting me.”

“That’s kind of my thing, isn’t it?” Jake grinned wider, tilting his head. “Admit it, baby.”

You shook your head with a sigh. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” But the way your heart fluttered at his words? You couldn’t deny it.

SUNGHOON

You paced around the room as you got lost in recounting the day. “And I visited my parents today! I missed them so much…it was the best.”

Finally, you stopped mid-stride and turned to face him, hands on your hips. “Okay, are you even listening? Or are you zoning out again?”

You have seen your boyfriend zoning out often, especially in the mornings. You wouldn’t be surprised if today were one of those days.

But he chuckled softly, wanting to assure you. “I’m listening. I always do.”

You tilted your head. “Even when I’m rambling about stuff that’s probably unimportant?”

“Especially then,” he said, his dimples appearing as his smile grew wider. “I like hearing you talk. It makes me happy.”

Your arms crossed, though you couldn’t fight the grin pulling at your lips. “You like when I yap on and on?”

“Not the yapping part,” Sunghoon teased. “It’s the way you’re so happy when you talk. You’re glowing, and I can’t look away.”

That made your cheeks heat up. “I’m just telling you about my day.”

“I know,” he said softly. “But you light up when you talk about the things you love. I could listen to you all day. It’s comforting.”

“Comforting?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow. Oh?

He nodded as his eyes began to soften. “Yeah. It’s like you’re letting me see a part of you no one else does.”

Your lips curved into a smile. “I never thought I’d be comforting while going on about my life.”

Sunghoon’s smile grew. “You’d be surprised.”

SUNOO

“…and I don’t even know why they didn’t just say that in the first place! Would it have been so hard? Honestly…” you trailed off, glancing at Sunoo, watching you with the softest smile.

You blinked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” he asked, his smile widening.

“Like you’re completely entertained by my nonsense.”

“Because I am,” Sunoo admitted without hesitation. “I love it when you yap.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Yap?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “You go off about the most random things, and I love it. It’s my favorite background noise.”

You playfully gasped. “Background noise? You’re saying I’m noise?” How dare he?!

“Sweet noise,” he corrected, grinning cheekily. “The kind I never want to tune out.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was no hiding the blush on your cheeks. “So you want me to keep going?”

Sunoo nodded eagerly. “Of course! Why do you think I never interrupt you?”

Tilting your head, suspicious. “What if I talk about like….I don’t know... talk about socks?”

He laughed softly. “You don’t realize how cute you are when you get all caught up in your little stories.”

You tried to fight the smile tugging at your lips but gave up quickly. “Fine. But you’re stuck with me talking forever.”

Sunoo’s eyes sparkled. “Lucky me.”

JUNGWON

You were sprawled on the carpet while Jungwon sat next to you, quietly listening with that ever-patient expression.

“…and I don’t get it! Why would you even bring a cat to a grocery store? What’s the cat gonna do? Pick out your produce?” You threw your hands up, exasperated. “Next thing you know, they’ll be pushing their pets in carts like it’s totally normal.”

Jungwon blinked at you. You can see his lips twitching.

You squinted. “You’re holding back a laugh, aren’t you?”

“No,” he said, lips pressed together tightly.

“Yes, you are!” You pointed at him accusingly. “You’re trying so hard not to laugh right now.”

He cracked. His shoulders shook as he let out a small giggle. But then it escalated. His hand flew to his stomach, and he was laughing so hard that he tipped backward.

“HAHAHAHAHA OH MY—AHHHH HA HA HA HA!”

You sat there, wide-eyed. “Is it that funny?”

He nodded, tears forming at the corners of his eyes as he tried to catch his breath. “It’s not even the story! It’s you! You’re so serious about the ridiculous things—AHHH HA HA AHH HAHA—I can’t!”

You crossed your arms, pouting. “I was making a valid point.”

“I know, I know!” Jungwon wheezed, wiping his eyes. “But you looked so offended! Like, personally attacked by the cat in the store.”

“Well, someone had to say it!”

Jungwon shook his head. “You’re too much.”

You huffed. “I don’t know why I put up with you.”

“Because you love me,” he teased, his laughter finally calming down.

You rolled your eyes but smiled despite yourself. “Maybe.”

“Definitely,” he said, still grinning. “Now, please. Keep going. I need another good laugh.”

NI-KI

You were going on about how your day went, and Ni-ki, leaning against the doorframe, watched you as he kept grinning. He wasn’t saying much but teasing you with every detail you mentioned. “Wow, you don’t stop talking, huh?” Ni-ki said with a smirk.

You raised an eyebrow. You do not want to back down. Especially to him. “I’m just sharing my day, okay? You don’t have to listen if it’s too much.”

“Oh, I’m listening,” Ni-ki said as he stepped forward. “I just didn’t know you had this much to say. You’ve been talking for hours, baby.”

You shot him a look, unfazed. “Oh, please. You know I talk plenty, just not to you.”

Ni-ki chuckled, pushing himself off the doorframe and walking over to you. “I think you talk to me more than you realize. You just don’t want to admit it.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “I don’t know about that.”

“Uh-huh. You’re giving me the full lecture today. You can’t hide it,” he teased. “And honestly, I’m enjoying it.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to act indifferent. “Of course you are; you love it when I talk.”

Ni-ki shrugged dramatically. “Guilty as charged. Your yapping is one of my favorite things. Keeps me entertained.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at how easily he could get under your skin, even with his teasing. “Well, I hope you’re ready for more because I’m not stopping anytime soon.”

“Bring it on,” Ni-ki said with a wink, clearly looking forward to hearing all of it.

[jjscrybaby]

hiii :)

could you do a rafe x reader where the reader has a panic attack in front of sarah for the first and she knows to get the reader to rafe and he immediately calms her down?

rafe cameron x reader | hurt & comfort | (pogue!reader, mean girls, panic attack, crying, comforting!rafe, insecure!reader.)

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨��୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

No one figured Rafe Cameron would go for a Pogue. For all his life he’d been the number 1 Pogue hater, the biggest Kook defender, and overall just a pretentious asshole. That’s why it was the shock of the island when you showed up on his arm to Midsummer’s, wearing a dress that costed more than your rent with an anxious smile on your face.

Your boyfriend had promised to stick by your side for the entire night, and you were sure he meant it when he said it, but he hadn’t taken into account just how enthused the elders were going to be to see him. He wasn’t that teenage boy they knew anymore, instead a man living alone and dealing with his troubles; thanks to you.

It was halfway through the night when you went to the bathroom, the few glasses of champagne had your head feeling fuzzy and your bladder full. You locked yourself in the cubicle and started to do your business, before you heard voices from outside.

“It’s strange though, right?” The door closed behind the girls that had walked in, making you flinch as you stood to sort your dress out.

“Rafe with a Pogue. Yeah, definitely weird,” a squeaky voiced girl agreed with a laugh.

���It won’t last, trust me. He’s only with her for the image, it makes him look good to do charity for a girl like that. I’m pretty sure she’s a waitress at the club,” the other one responded.

“I’ll be sure to find him later and remind him of that.” The two of them giggled to themselves, gushing over how hot your boyfriend was for a couple more minutes before leaving. You didn’t step out of the cubicle until you were sure that you were alone, hot tears running down your cheeks.

Maybe it was the alcohol in your system, or maybe it was the fact those girls had said everything you’d been thinking for the last few months you’d been together, you weren’t sure, but something about their words had hurt your feelings; and had sent you into a spiral. You sat down on the plush purple chair, breaths coming out rapidly and shakily.

“Oh my god, what happened?” You hadn’t even heard the door open, but as you turned your head you found Sarah rushing at you. She knelt down next to you, holding your hands as you let out fearful whimpers. “Fuck. Okay, stay here, okay? Don’t move!” She ran back out and you stared at the door, holding your chest anxiously.

Only a minute later the door was swinging open and Rafe was storming in, striding over to you. “Hey, hey. Look at me,” he demanded, gentle but firmly as he cupped your cheeks in his hands. “Breathe for me, okay? Slow breaths, you got it.”

He’d seen you like this a few times, he’d learnt the best ways to get you to relax. He held your hand over his own chest, feeling his heartbeat underneath your palm. He gave you a reassuring smile as you copied his breathing, gripping onto his fingers.

“Good girl,” he drawled, pulling you from the chair into his lap where he sat on the floor. He stroked your hair, leaving gentle kisses over your cheek. “You want to tell me what happened?”

“It’s stupid,” you croaked out, still gripping onto his hand.

“No. It’s not. Tell me what happened, so I can sort it out and get the both of us out of the women’s bathroom,” he joked, making you giggle tearfully.

You gave him a wobbly smile. You didn’t have much of a choice now, it was time to admit to him the insecurities you’d had over the last few months; the ones that kept you up at night as he slept soundly beside you. “No one here thinks I’m good enough for you.”

“What?” His face scrunched up in confusion. “Baby, what’re you talking about?”

“I— I’m a Pogue,” you whispered, as if you were admitting a crime.

“I know that,” he shrugged. “I’m not that oblivious, sweetheart. Why does that matter? Why are you saying this now?”

“Because everyone thinks it Rafe! I’m sure you have before, I know I have! Everyone here thinks you’re an idiot for being with me, that you’ve lost your mind. Maybe they’re right,” you cried out.

His hands grabbed your face firmly, leaning his forehead against your’s as he held you in place. “You’re the love of my life.”

“What?” You murmured.

“You are the love of my life. I don’t give a fuck if you’re a Pogue, I don’t care that you eat pizza like you’ve not eaten in years, or that you swear like a pirate. You’re my girl, and I love you. I don’t care about other peoples opinions, because they’re irrelevant,” he explained slowly, caressing your cheek as he spoke. “Now, do you want to go home or do you want to get the biggest bottle of champagne and make fun of these losers?”

“The second one,” you whispered, staring at him like a lovesick puppy.

He smirked, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. “That’s my girl,” he mumbled, biting down on your bottom lip lightly to make you giggle. “Now, next time you get some dumb shit in your head you gonna tell me? Or do I have to spend all our loving conversations in the bathroom?”

You laughed, wiping your teary eyes as he helped you off his lap and back to your feet. He adjusted your flower crown with a cheesy grin, looking at you like you hung the moon and the stars. If you didn’t believe his words before, you definitely did now. “You don’t like the bathroom?”

“Well… it’s definitely nicer than the men’s, I’ll give you that.”

[inthefoxholes]

So sorry if I’m hijacking the post, I think your points are incredibly valid and well made, I’d just like to add:

This whole nerfing of Solas and consequently of Thedas also rubs me the wrong way politically, at this moment in time. I know, not everyone sees it that way, but for me, dragon age was always (also) about revolution; about the slow and painful realisation that some shit is not reformable, entrenched as it is (slavery, the discrimination of the elves, the plight of the mages, and the ways these are all interconnected).

(This is why DA 2 is my favorite game of the bunch, because while it does a lot of things wrong, it is a great depiction of how fascistic structures just grind you down; how it’s not enough that there are Cullen, and Thrask, who may be called moderate. All the complaining about abuses is just screaming into the Void, so much so that even though the Chantry kind of recognizes that Meredith is out of bounds, they still threaten an Exalted March if the city does not show compliance with her methods. You - and Anders - come to realize that there is no way out. They - the chantry, the nobility, etc. - will always protect their own, and the way out is through. Do I think Anders executes this well? Nope, but it’s a compelling story, and it warms my marxist heart.)

It is so insulting that the writers/devs/whoever is responsible for this go into the OPPOSITE direction with veilguard, and at this moment. Suddenly, we need to protect the status quo, no questions asked. Suddenly, we get told, again and again in almost every companion quest, that institutions (from assassins to pirates to the shadow Organisation that controls the nevarran politics) are inherently good, unproblematic, beneficial. There’s a few bad apples, sure, Illario, Johanna, but they are mad anyway, and if you root them out all’s well again.

Suddenly, Solas is NOT the leader of a popular movement (the elves leaving the cities?) of people who presumably have some issue with the status quo, and who he can give compelling reasons to follow him (otherwise they would not, at least not en masse). Suddenly, he is alone, and drenched in regret and the past, no vision of the future, no revolutionary impetus - even he, we learn, just wants to right past wrongs, his wrongs, so again, a rather private, individual problem, and consequently it gets solved by this weird (and frankly uncomfortable) (psycho-)analyzing of his memories. Suddenly, there’s nothing wrong with the world anymore, just with Solas. The status quo has to be protected at all costs, you guys.

The thing about Solas in DAtV is that because they were fundamentally unwilling to engage with the question of whether or not the Veil should actually come down (which is a symptom of them refusing to engage with anything remotely 'problematic' in the franchise to date: slavery, elven oppression, treatment of both city elves and Dalish etc.) he goes from a character who is supposed to be the embodiment of wisdom to a character who is kinda stupid. And further, it affects our questions surrounding his motives and relationships, his actions in inquisition and how compelling he is.

Like, there's a lot of people arguing ATM about whether or not a romanced Lavellans relationship with Solas was meaningful/if she knew him compared to how Rook knows him/if he loved her more than Mythal. And I think the answer is very tied up in this particular issue with the writing.

Because if Solas is a revolutionary who believes that the veil must come down, not just to fix a perceived wrong he did, but for the good of elvenkind...if we take a Solas who says 'people are always dying, it's what they do' and realise that he's saying that because PEOPLE DIDNT USED TO DIE and the way their lives are now so short is terrifying to him, if we take a Solas who says that the world today is full of those who seem tranquil to him and take that SERIOUSLY, if we get a Solas who is sickened by the way spirits are yearning for the world the way it was but are stuck in the fade without any contact and that's twisting them into demons and those willing to possess others to taste a glimpse of what was denied to them by HIS actions...

Then we get a Solas whose actions don't just make sense but we can see WHY they make sense. We get a Solas who is, yes, committing an act of horrendous violence by tearing down the veil but is doing so to literally save the world rather than just fix a regret or because he's bound up in Mythal somehow and what she would have wanted for the world.

THAT Solas who leaves Lavellan because of his revolution he must lead, who leaves Lavellan after seeing what this world does to those who are left of the people, that Solas...I think that we could then argue more than the relationships he formed in inquisition were real and he was tragically forced away from them by his own goals. That in some way he is doing this FOR Lavellan.

There should be a sort of semi-horror tint to this world for us through Solas's eyes because we can see a world of tranquil walking around like he does, a world where life is too short, a world of injustice and pain and reasons to go ahead with his plan

But Solas....kinda lacks agency in DAtV. I don't hate the Solas Mythal plot stuff I think it's quite interesting, but mix it with us never considering the merits of what Solas wants to do, of EVERYONE unilaterally deciding it's evil with no real debate or queries, with ZERO elves in the narrative siding with Solas or taking what he has to say seriously...THATS where adding the Solas and Mythal plot rubs me the wrong way. I don't want Solas to need to be released by Mythal before he can let go of his evil plan...I want a Solas who doesn't have an evil plan but instead a complex one. I want the conviction of Anders in Solas; that what he's doing is RIGHT and the ONLY WAY to fix a great injustice. I don't want to redeem Solas or even understand him I want him to CONVINCE me and me BELIEVE him. Otherwise the Solas we see in inquisition is more shallow and the Solas we see in Veilguard through Rook...maybe Rook does know him better than the inquisition did.

[crows4luna]

1,434 words. mature, explicit content ahead. reader is afab, no gendered pronouns used. first time body worship. nipple play. lots of groping because sylus is captivated seeing his beloved naked for the first time. | much thanks to @tbaluver @d4wnbreaker @ivohex for beta reading <3

“Don’t look.”—you huff, puffing your cheeks as you hesitate, hands clenched around your shirt bunched up around your midsection—“Not yet, at least.”

Your lover emits a playful chuckle, “Anything for you, sweetie.”

A few feet across from you was Sylus, happily relaxed as he sat on the edge of his lavish bed. Both of his hands were clasped over his eyes, as per your request. While you two were no stranger to more fleeting, intimate exchanges, your apprehension towards taking anything further was what held you both back from going full circle.

The miraculous part of it was that Sylus had no problem being patient. He didn’t bat an eye, nor did his jaw clench. He accepted it like it was something as simple as acknowledging the sky was blue.

That’s also the part that scared you the most.

It was a strange, foreign thing. Men were greedy, voracious animals, and with your career, you’ve dealt with plenty of them who were… interesting caricatures. Some worse than others, of course. And even though you covered yourself shoulder to toe on a day-to-day basis, you still hated being ogled at. Hated the gnawing anxiety that you were being mentally undressed and you didn’t even know it.

But Sylus helped you combat a lot of things. There was no pressure from his end to be as prudish as he was, flaunting his figure comfortably. It was his nature (his own words). He was used to it, and when it comes to you, he has no problem being his most comfortable self.

Finally, your shirt hits the ground. You bristle at the cold air pinching your bare back, shivering. You don’t want to delay this anymore than you have to.

Quickly, you hook your thumbs into the waistband of your waffle-knit shorts, tugging it down. The only thing clinging to your body now was a simple pair of cotton panties. A pair that descends from a cheap pack you bought some months ago. It was a slightly darker shade of maroon, a little brighter than the muted shades accented all over Sylus’ main base.

Dwindling anxiety courses through your veins, almost like a replacement of your blood. You lift your arms to cover your breasts, gritting your teeth before letting out a deep breath to ease yourself.

“...Okay,” you finally say. “You can look now.”

Sylus lowers his hands.

Unbeknownst to you, his eyes widen slightly in fascination, taking in the sight of your back. He observes the slight curve of it, then the way your hips naturally fill out, and the downward expanse of your thighs to your legs. A light smirk curls at the corner of his mouth, leaning forward a little to rest his forearms on his thighs.

“A breathtaking sight before my own eyes,” he muses. “You’re stunning, baby.”

You let out a stifled noise, unintelligible of any comprehensible emotion. You were getting flustered. More than you ever have before.

“You’re—only staring at my backside.”

“And I’m not complaining if this is all you’ll show me.”

His tone shifts from his teasing drawl to something smoother, comforting, “If this is as far as you want to go, then it’s alright with me. Don’t feel pressured to keep going just to please me.”

You stiffen a little, sighing, “I want to. Believe me, I… want this. I want to please you. It’s only fair.”

The shakiness in your voice begs to differ. Sylus raises a brow, lifting a hand to tap his bottom lip contemplatively. He knows you well—and one of your standout traits is that you’re stubborn as all hell.

He fixates on the shaky foundation for which you plead with him. Despite it all, he knows you’re being sincere. He just doesn’t want to scare you.

Sylus sighs, relenting, “Alright then. But I want to remind you that it’s your call. Always.”

“...Thank you.”

With an easing state of mind, you finally turn. It’s deliberately slow, but you feel comfortable as your eyes meet your partner’s. His gaze is ever captivating. The very same one used to intimidate and bend others at will—but it’s those eyes that welcome the sight of you like home. You can make out the subtle tenderness that extends to his adoration for you.

You allow him to take in the sight of you, now face-to-face. It’s not long before a blush slowly warms your complexion, standing out in the dim aura of the room. The moment Sylus smiles, you feel yourself tensing again.

He chuckles, his voice returning to a low drawl, “Are you getting shy?”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

The former stands, moving over to you in one stride considering the short distance and his stature. Resting his hands on his hips, he carefully circles your figure, observing you again—slower. Once he settles into a spot standing right behind you, you feel the curve of his palm sliding along your shoulder, up around your throat.

Sylus leans forward, lips barely grazing your ear, “Do you want this?”

A nod.

“...Yes,” you moan out softly, the sound a mere whisper. You gasp as his strong torso presses to your back, continuing your permission, “Yes—I—fuck… I want you, Sylus. I need you.”

This time, he lifts his arms to embrace you from behind. Tufts of white hair tickle your skin as he lowers his head to mouth the side of your neck. His lips latch on, beginning to leave feather-light kisses, descending a trail. It’s enough to invigorate you, making you more pliant in his arms.

His hands find yours, still covering your breasts. He massages the back of them, gentle in his grasp.

“Do you—”

You can’t take this anymore. You’re desperate, near the verge of tears as you whimper, “Yes—yes, yes. Gods, Sylus. Fuck. Please, you don’t—have to ask anymore.”

His deep laugh reverberates against the juncture between your neck and shoulder, sending chills down your spine.

“I’d be cruel to not ask,” he punctuates with a kiss. “It’s only fair.

“And… I want to be fair to you, always. Which means asking for your permission, before I may do as I please. Before I fully relish in you the way I dream of.”

A kiss to the area beneath your ear, then a soft tug of your lobe between his teeth. He soothes it with another kiss, whispering, “I intend to relish in you in the best way, as you deserve. As long as you’ll have me.”

You’re at more peace than you can ever imagine. No longer does the cold of his bedroom perplex you, as his words are carried by what feels like an undertone of a trance.

You let down your arms—and instantly, Sylus’ hands occupy the space they once did. His palms, calloused yet smooth with neverending warmth, cup your breasts. Your back arches, and as his fingers pinch and flick your nipples, it elicits boundless moans from you.

To him, it’s probably the most beautiful sound he’s heard, and Sylus groans in anticipation of the symphony he could create.

You whine as he suddenly shifts his grip, lifting you into his arms with ease to drop you onto the bed. He resumes the position you were both once in, turning you to lay on your side as his torso presses to your backside again. You intake a sharp breath, goosebumps dancing along your flesh as it prepares to embrace your lover’s warmth again.

His palms once more resume their squeeze on your breasts, as his lips work to leave a mark on the back of your neck. He takes his time, ensuring the sensuality and its intimate burn is the same as his lips trail down your skin. All you can do in turn is writhe and grind back into him, delivering a delicious mantra of sounds that only tightens the growing bulge behind his trousers.

“Sylus…”

“Mmh… just stay still for me.”

You roll over to lay flat on your stomach, grabbing one of the strewn pillows and hugging it tight. Sylus beams at this, slipping a noise that tethers between a groan and a growl. His palms leave your breasts, keeping a firm pressure as they slither down your stomach, anchoring into the shape of your hips. He kneads the flesh, bolder in his movements as he tongues the dip of your spine, occasionally moving back up, sideways, then downward again.

It’s an honor, he thinks. To be able to devour you like this.

The only one who will sink his teeth into your skin.

[signanothername]

Hey, so i saw your answered asks about how you portray platonic relationships as just as deep and valuable as romantic relationships, and I just want to say I really appreciate it.

As a cupioromantic, though I do really desire a relationship like that it has only ever been because there's so much more that is societally acceptable to do with a partner than a friend. I want to hug my bestie more often, hold hands with them all the time and give them kisses. I want to say 'I love you' to them and have everyone understand that it is strictly platonic. But unfortunately that isn't how the world works. (As emphasis, I even got bullied off of reddit once pretty much because I made a post about getting a gf and everyone kept telling me that I wasn't actually aro)

I honestly don't even know what I'm saying anymore. It's not like you drawing skeletons being hyperaffectionate without sexiness or romance involved will change the world. But it has certainly changed mine. I feel more comfortable and validated in my identity than ever before. I just want to say thank you for that.

(You don't have to respond btw, I understand it might be awkward. I just really need to get this out. Sorry-)

Ah yes, the world continues to be arophopic and people being rude and making assumption about relationships that doesn’t concern them as per usual 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

Idk what’s hard about looking at two people being extremely affectionate and instead of thinking “wow they’re romantically involved” they think “wow they have a happy relationship whatever it may be”, it’s not that hard not to make assumptions and accept something as ambiguous until it’s explicitly stated

But alas, the human nature continues to not surprise me with its usual insensitivity

I’m sorry you had to endure that bullshit, you absolutely are a valid Aro and you absolutely can be in a relationship and still be Aro, never let anyone tell you otherwise <3

Not all Aros want to stay alone in a house, having a stable connection with someone, wanting to grow old with someone, isn’t inherently romantic in nature, and you can absolutely desire that stable connection and still be Aro af

But I’m genuinely glad my portrayal of these skelles made you feel validated, you deserve to feel validated <3333

Here’s some more affectionate skelles for you <333

[favefandomimagines]

You’re Losing Me (a.b)

Summary: a simple courtship was not what you wanted from Anthony and you aren’t sure he’s going to give it to you.

AN: more angsty fluff for our fave Viscount!!

Prompts 1,3,4,8 and 14 used! I switched it up a bit to have a happy ending 😉 @lilithlunastark

Anthony Bridgerton was not a man accustomed to hesitation. As the Viscount and head of the Bridgerton family, decisiveness was practically stitched into the fabric of his being. Yet, standing before the grand fireplace of Bridgerton House, his hands clenched into fists, hesitation consumed him.

The letter in his hand had been crumpled and smoothed so many times it barely resembled paper anymore. The words on it, however, were clear: Y/N was leaving London.

He’d read those words countless times since the letter arrived that morning, the ink seared into his mind: I need space, Anthony. I can’t do this anymore.

Y/N had been in his life for months now. Though their relationship had always been complicated, they had settled into a routine—a tentative sort of courtship.

They’d spent time together, attended balls, would promenade in the garden, and had shared quiet conversations in the Bridgerton drawing room.

There were soft, stolen glances, and moments where it felt as if there might be something more between them. But the truth was, Anthony had always kept her at arm’s length.

He’d never made any promises, she always did. Thinking that one day he’d hear her. He never hinted at anything beyond their tentative connection. It wasn’t that he didn’t care for her—no, he cared deeply.

It was that, in his mind, marriage was a far-off thing, a burden he wasn’t prepared to shoulder. His family, his duties, his fears about love—all of these things weighed heavily on him. He had convinced himself that, for all their chemistry, there was no future for him and Y/N.

Yet, Y/N, with her bright, curious eyes and the way she laughed as if nothing in the world could go wrong, had slowly, unknowingly, slipped under his defenses. And now, her letter felt like the knife of reality digging into his chest.

He knew exactly what she meant by "this." Their tumultuous relationship, full of passion and pain, had reached its breaking point. And though he’d always prided himself on being able to command order out of chaos, Anthony felt helpless.

He could still see her face from their last argument, the way her lips trembled as she fought back tears. The way she’d looked at him—like he’d broken her heart—haunted him.

||

The memory of their fight played vividly in his mind as he stormed through the crowded docks.

They had been standing in the drawing room, the light from the evening sun casting long shadows across the space. Y/N had her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her expression both defiant and heartbroken.

“You don’t understand, Anthony,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “I can’t keep doing this—this dance where I’m always the one chasing you, waiting for scraps of affection. I need more.”

Anthony, his pride stung, had crossed his own arms in a defensive stance. “And you think I don’t? You think I don’t want to give you everything? Do you have any idea the weight I carry every day, Y/N? The expectations, the responsibilities—”

Her laugh was bitter, cutting him off. “Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare use your title as an excuse for pushing me away. You don’t think I see it? Every time things get difficult, every time I try to get closer, you retreat. You hide behind that cold, stoic mask like I’m not worth letting in.”

“That’s not fair,” he said, his voice rising. “You know I care for you—”

“Care for me?” she interrupted, her eyes blazing. “You care for your horses, Anthony. You care for the family estate. Don’t patronize me with that word. I wanted you to love me.”

He froze at her words, his throat tightening. Love. He had never said it. He had felt it, burning in his chest every time he saw her, but the words had always felt like a vulnerability he couldn’t afford.

Her silence in the face of his hesitation was louder than any accusation. Finally, she sighed, her shoulders sagging in defeat.

“I can’t do this anymore,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “This courtship, this... this nothing—it’s not enough for me. I deserve more than this half-hearted attempt at love. I deserve someone who doesn’t treat me like a passing interest.”

And with that, she had walked out, leaving him standing in the empty room, the weight of her words suffocating him.

||

The docks were bustling with the noise of carriages and sailors, the cries of seagulls punctuating the cacophony. Anthony scanned the crowd, his heart pounding with a sense of urgency he hadn’t felt in years. If she boarded that ship to Edinburgh, he wasn’t sure he’d ever see her again.

He found her standing at the edge of the pier, her trunk already loaded onto the ship. She wore a pale blue traveling cloak, the color washing her face in soft, muted tones. But even from a distance, Anthony could see the tightness in her jaw, the resolve in her posture.

“Y/N!” he called, his voice cutting through the din.

She turned, surprise flickering across her face before it hardened into something unreadable. “Anthony,” she said flatly. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to stop you.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You have no right to stop me.”

He took a step closer, his voice raw with emotion. ���You don’t get to walk away from me now, not after everything we’ve been through. Not after everything you promised.”

Her lips parted, but she said nothing. Maybe he really was listening to her. Anthony saw the flicker of doubt in her eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

“I can’t stay,” she said after a moment. “This—whatever this is between us—it’s too much. I thought I could handle it, but I’m not strong enough. I can’t fix this, Anthony. I’ve ruined everything.”

How could he expect her to go back to their suffocating routine when she had bared her soul to him the night prior. They simply couldn’t.

“No,” he said fiercely. “You haven’t ruined anything. If anyone’s to blame, it’s me. I’ve been a fool, Y/N, and I’ve taken you for granted. But I can’t lose you. I won’t.”

Her laugh was bitter, her arms crossing protectively over her chest. “Do you have any idea how much I’ve hurt, Anthony? If I told you how much I’m hurting right now, would you even care? Or would you just turn away like you always do?”

The accusation stung because it was true. How many times had he withdrawn when things became too difficult, too emotional? How many times had he failed to be the man she needed him to be?

“I care,” he said, his voice trembling. “God help me, Y/N, I care more than you could ever know. And I’m sorry. I should have told you the truth. The truth about how I really felt about you. But I was afraid. I’m sorry for not trusting you.”

She stared at him, her expression unreadable. For a long moment, he thought she might turn and walk away. But then she sighed, her shoulders sagging as if the weight of the world had finally become too much.

“Why now?” she asked quietly. “Why are you only saying this now, when I’m already leaving?”

“Because I’m an idiot,” he admitted. “Because it took the thought of losing you to realize how much you mean to me. Y/N, I love you. I’ve loved you from the moment I met you, and I’ll love you until my dying breath.”

Tears filled her eyes, but she didn’t look away. Slowly, she took a step closer. “Do you mean it, Anthony? Because I can’t do this again. I can’t keep putting myself through this if you’re not serious.”

“I mean it,” he said without hesitation. “I’ll prove it to you every day for the rest of my life, if you’ll let me.”

Her lips trembled, but a small smile broke through. “You’d better. Because if you break my heart again, Anthony Bridgerton, I swear I’ll make you regret it.”

He laughed, relief washing over him as he pulled her into his arms. “You have my word.”

As the ship’s whistle sounded in the background, signaling its imminent departure, Anthony held Y/N tightly, vowing never to let her go again.

[soopcak3]

I’m Sorry..

Kang Dae-Ho/Angst🌧️

Summary: right before the revolt, Gi-Hun asks if the other players are willing to join the fight. It doesn’t end well for Y/N..

Warnings: blood/gore, gun violence, overall sad vibes.

This was it. The revolt against the people who had put everyone here. Justice for those who died, and those who were willing do risk their lives to end the games for good.

Gi-Hun and several others, including your best friend Dae-ho had gathered guns and ammo from the guards they had killed moments before. Dae-ho’s oldest sister had babysat Y/N as a kid so she and Dae-ho had spent a lot of time together, and practically grew up together. Playing lots of Gonggi and cooking and having lots of fun, but now none of that mattered. What mattered was getting out of here and ending the games.

Gi-Hun asked if anyone would join them in their fight against the guards. Y/N stepped up, “I… I will.”

“Y/N no!” Dae-ho interrupted, “you can’t! It’s too dangerous!” She waved him off.

“Don’t try telling me what’s dangerous now! I’ve made my choice. I’d rather die in a fight than die helplessly in one of those games!!” Y/N shouted back. Dae-ho stood there helplessly as Gi-hun nodded. Hyun-ju quickly taught everyone how to use the guns, it was amazing how she had the whole rooms attention, except for Dae-ho. He was focused entirely on y/n.

As they exited the room, Dae-ho quickly walked in front of y/n as though he was blocking her. She glared at him but didn’t say anything, she had to focus on the task at hand.

As they went up the stairs, the first wave of attack started. Y/N fired her gun as best as she could, and although she wasn’t skilled she managed to shoot a few guards and even take one down. She looked over at Dae-ho who was trembling from the gun fire, she knew about his PTSD and her eyes softened. They continued up the stairs once the fight was over.

Dae-ho, still trembling, felt a hand on his shoulder causing him to flinch. He turned quickly and saw Y/N, “are you okay, Dae-ho? Do you.. need to go back?” She asked, her eyes gentle and caring. He shook his head, his hands trembling slightly. Y/N nodded, trusting his judgment, but still slightly worried.

Then the next attack started. Everyone was doing so well at first, then Gi-hun and Jung-bae split off to go find the control room. They were holding their own at first then Y/N turned to see Dae-ho behind a pillar, firing his gun over his head. She quickly crawled over, “Dae-ho, it’s okay, you need to get up though.. we can do this! We’re doing so well!” Y/N said, her voice gentle yet shaky. He nodded but as Y/N began to stand— BOOM.

She fell to the floor, blood gushing from her chest. Dae-ho quickly crawled over, hands shaking and breathe hitching. “Oh my— Y/N!! SOMEONE HELP HER!!” He cried, looking around at everybody and realizing he’d lose her today.

She weakly looked up at him and took his face in her hands, “Dae.. ho… I’ll be okay… I.. love you…” Y/N mumbled as blood gushed from her mouth, and the life drained from her eyes.

Dae-ho cradled her in his arms and cried out loudly, it all happened so fast, it was like he couldn’t hear anything, not even the gun fire anymore. Everything he fought for was gone in seconds.

“I’m sorry..”

[4linos]

the one that got away

han jisung x fem!reader (hint of hyunjin x reader)

synopsis: jisung struggles with his unspoken love for his best friend as new year’s eve reveals that he’s too late.

wc: 926

(a/n: my late nye post. i’m sorry it’s angsty too. 😢)

Jisung's heart was pounding steadily, drowning out the wild laughing and pounding music from the party. The air felt too heavy and suffocating. He had been looking for you for what seemed like hours, but time was running out, and the countdown was already beginning. He needed to find you. He had to tell you. For years, he had buried it. The feelings. The slight aching that had developed in his chest whenever you mentioned another guy.

Jisung would grin and nod whenever you talked about how much you liked someone or how you were falling for them, his voice composed and his face neutral. But inside? Each word from you was like a blade twisting deeper into his chest.

Tonight, though... Tonight, he planned to say it. He wanted to confess tonight, with the promise of a fresh start with the new year. He was not going to hide anymore. He was not going to let you slide through his fingers one more year. He needed to be brave.

And so, when he finally saw you, laughing brightly within the crowd, his stomach twisted in an unfamiliar way. You weren't alone. Hyunjin was there. Of course he was. Hyunjin, with his effortless charm and that goddamn smile, had everyone swooning. Jisung stood still, staring at the two of you, feeling a weight in his chest that he had never experienced before.

You were talking to him in the same way you had with so many others before: joking, teasing, lighthearted, and carefree, but it wasn't just that. It was more than just the playful back and forth. It was the way you touched his arm, your fingertips lightly brushing over his sleeve, and the way Hyunjin's gaze stayed on you, soft and centered. Jisung's chest squeezed severely as he stood in the corner of the room, feeling isolated in his own existence.

He couldn't move. He could not even breathe. It wasn't meant to be like this. You were not supposed to be so perfect with him. Not with Hyunjin. Not like this.

Even though he was only a few steps away, the distance between you widened as the countdown began. You were still so lost in him, and for a moment, Jisung felt crushed by the weight of his own emotions. He shouldn't have let things get this far. He shouldn't have let himself love you in this way. He had always been worried of ruining what the two of you had together. But now, it felt like everything was slipping away.

The clock struck midnight, the world erupted in cheers, and Jisung's world collapsed in the form of a kiss. Your lips touched Hyunjin's in front of him, and everything stopped. The sound of fireworks outside seemed to fade into the background. It was only you. It's just you and him. The two of you were caught in that kiss, the kind that people only share after they've passed that boundary and know who they are to each other.

Jisung had no idea how long he'd stood there, staring. He had no idea how much of his heart had broken in that one second. All he knew was that it felt like someone had ripped a huge, raw hole in him that he couldn't ignore. His thoughts raced around in circles, too rapid and furious.

This isn’t what I thought it would be. This isn’t what I imagined. This wasn’t how I planned for it to go. 

When you moved away from Hyunjin, your gaze fixed on him. You smiled softly, with your brow furrowed in anxiety.

"Jisung?" you asked, your voice soft. "Are you okay?"

He wanted to scream. He wanted to say no, to tell you that he wasn’t okay, that everything in him was breaking. That he was never okay, that he had never been okay, as he’d watched you walk past him for years, falling for everyone but him.

But the words didn’t come. The lump in his throat was too heavy, his chest too tight. He swallowed, hoping to force the emotions down, but they just surged harder. He couldn’t do this. Not now. Not like this.

Instead of answering, Jisung did the only thing he could do. He turned away, his body moving on instinct, unable to stand there anymore. He couldn’t bear the sight of you, the sound of your voice, the warmth of your concern, when everything in him screamed I’m the one who’s been here all along. I’m the one who’s always loved you.

His feet carried him out of the room, out of the party, out of everything that felt like it might shatter him even more if he stayed.

The cool air hit his skin, sharp and biting, but it couldn’t touch the rawness inside him. He needed to get away, to disappear into the night, because the image of you with Hyunjin, your face lit up with joy, your heart elsewhere was suffocating him.

Jisung sobbed in the dark, alone with his thoughts. He didn't want anyone to see it. He didn't want you to know how much it hurt, how much he wanted to be the one you kissed. How he had waited so long for that moment, only to find you in the arms of another.

He'd passed up his chance, hadn't he? He'd let his fear rule him, let his own damn self-doubt stop him from taking the risk. And now the world felt too heavy.

Happy New Year, Jisung.

It wasn’t, though. Not for him. Not anymore.

//

masterlist

[lvnleah]

breaking the news.

strap in for this little mini series! it’s four parts long and a new part will be put out every tuesday <33

bit of a short one as it’s only 1.4k

Beth and Viv always knew that they weren’t going to play at the same club forever but they never expected it to come as soon as it did. They’d both been called in to discuss their contracts for the following season. 

Beth’s went well and she decided to stay, she was happy where she was. Viv on the other hand wasn’t. They’d had a long conversation about it before the meetings. It was a long one once you were in bed. 

They talked for hours. They talked about where Viv would potentially go, how the living situation would be and most of all how it would affect you considering you were attached to both of them so much. 

After hours of talking, Beth and Viv sat in silence, both processing the weight of their conversation. Viv ran a hand through her hair. 

“I knew this day would come,” Beth finally said, her voice soft. “But I didn’t think it would be this soon.”

Viv nodded, her gaze focused on the floor. “Me neither. But Arsenal made it clear… they’re moving in a different direction. I can’t stay here if they don’t want me.” There was a heaviness in her words that Beth felt deep in her chest.

“I don’t want to hold you back,” Beth said gently, “I know you still have so much to give. It’s just… hard to imagine not having you here every day, for me and especially for Rory. She’s so used to us being together.”

Viv sighed, “I know. That’s what makes this even harder. I don’t want to confuse her, or make her feel like I’m leaving forever.”

Beth shook her head. “We’ll make it work. We’ll explain it to her in a way she’ll understand. We’re still a family, no matter where you are.”

Viv smiled at that, though her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “If I go to City like I’ve been offered already, I’ll be two hours away by train. I’ll come back every chance I get. And we’ll figure out something for the longer term. Maybe I can get a place closer to home.”

Beth nodded. “We’ll have to talk to Rory together, make sure she knows this will work.”

“Yeah,” Viv whispered, her thumb tracing circles on Beth’s hand. “It’s just… I hate that I’m the one leaving. I don’t want her to feel like I’m choosing football over her.”

Beth gave her a reassuring look. “She’s smart, like you. She’ll understand that you’re doing what you love. And we’ll always be here, waiting for you.”

They sat quietly for a moment, knowing that this was only the beginning of many hard conversations to come, but also determined to face them together.

A few days later, after a long training session, Beth and Viv found themselves in the locker room with a few of the Arsenal girls. The atmosphere was light, with the usual banter going around, but Beth could feel a tension sitting between her and Viv. They hadn’t yet told anyone outside of the staff about Viv’s move.

Leah plopped down on the bench next to Beth. “You alright? You’ve been a bit off lately.”

Beth forced a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… a lot going on.” She glanced at Viv, who was lacing up her boots slowly, clearly deep in thought.

Leah followed her gaze and raised an eyebrow. “What’s going on with you two? You both look like you’ve got something on your mind. Are you splitting up?”

Beth sighed, her shoulders slumping. “No no…Viv’s leaving at the end of the season.”

The room went quiet for a second, and a couple of the other girls stopped their conversations, glancing over at Viv. Leah’s eyes widened, “What do you mean, ‘leaving’? As in… no, not Arsenal? Sure not.”

Beth nodded. “Arsenal’s not renewing her contract.”

Leah’s expression softened as she sat back, processing the news. “Bloody hell… that’s a lot to take in.”

Viv looked up, sensing the shift in the room, and gave a small nod. “It’s not like I want to leave, but it’s what’s happening. It’s not up to me anymore.”

Leah frowned. “And what about Rory? How’s she taking it?”

“We haven’t told her yet,” Beth admitted. “We’ve been talking about how to explain it in a way that doesn’t make her feel like Viv’s abandoning us.”

Leah sat quietly for a moment, then said, “You know, when Jordan left for Villa last year, I had the same worries with Buddy. Rory’s strong, and she’s got both of you. As long as she knows Viv isn’t going anywhere for good, she’ll adapt.”

Viv nodded, clearly appreciating Leah’s perspective. “I hate that I’m the one leaving, but I’m hoping we can keep things as normal as possible. I’ll come back as often as I can.”

Leah smiled softly. “You two have got this. And if you ever need help with Rory or even just someone to talk to, I’m here. You’re still part of the family, both of you are.”

A few months had passed since Beth and Viv’s conversation, and the end of the season was approaching quickly. The days felt shorter as they tried to prepare for what was coming, but the hardest part still had to happen—telling you.

Most people knew and somehow they’d managed to keep it all under wraps from you. They wanted to keep things as normal as possible for you and somehow they had. It was now the April and you still had no idea. 

One evening after dinner, Beth and Viv exchanged a look, silently agreeing that it was finally time to talk. They’d been putting it off, hoping to find the right moment, but there never seemed to be a perfect time.

You were sitting on the living room floor, playing with some of your toys, completely unaware of the serious conversation that was about to happen.

“Munchkin,” Beth said softly, sitting down next to you while Viv sat on the other side. “We need to talk to you about something important.”

You looked up, “What is it?” You asked, crawling onto Beth’s lap. 

Beth wrapped her arms around you, gently brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “You know how Mamma and I both play football, right?”

You nodded a proud smile on your face. “Yeah! You play for Arsenal!”

Beth chuckled softly. “Well, Mamma’s still going to play football, but she’s going to play for a different team next season.”

You tilted your head, trying to understand. “Not Arsenal?”

Viv cleared her throat, her voice gentle as she spoke. “No, sweetheart, not Arsenal. I’ll be playing for a different team. It’ll be a little further away so Mamma won’t be home all the time like I am now.”

You blinked, your little brows furrowing in confusion. “Why? I don’ want you to go. You stay here!”

You didn’t want Viv to move away, you were happy with how things were.

They were both with you all the time and you couldn’t imagine your life changing like that. 

Viv’s heart ached at the sadness in your voice, but she leaned in closer, pulling you onto her lap. “I know it sounds scary, but I’m not going anywhere for good. I’ll still come home as much as I can, and we’ll still see each other all the time.”

“But you won’t be here every day?” you asked, your voice small. “You won’t get to take me to school and tuck me in at night?”

Beth wrapped an arm around both of you, her voice soft and reassuring. “Mamma’s not leaving you, okay? She loves you so much. We’ll make sure you can visit her, and she’ll come back whenever she can. Nothing’s going to change between us, we’re still your family. We’ll even be able to stay with Mamma and have a sleepover!”

You looked up at Viv, tears starting to well in your eyes. “But I like it when ‘ou here every day. You stay?”

Viv swallowed hard, her heart breaking. “I wish I could, kleintje. Even though I’ll be playing for another team, I’ll always come back. You’ll never be without me, I promise.”

Beth wiped away one of your tears with her thumb. “It’s going to be different, but you’re going to be okay, and we’ll be right here with you.”

You sniffled, cuddling into Viv’s chest. “Okay,” you whispered, your voice still wobbly. “But you have to promise you come back lots. With chocolate!”

Viv kissed the top of your head, her voice thick with emotion. “I promise. With chocolate, as much as I can.”

Beth kissed your cheek too, and together, the three of you sat in a quiet moment, holding onto each other as you began to understand the change that was coming. It was hard, but you knew that no matter what, your Mamma and Mummy loved you, and that love wasn’t going anywhere.

[angelic-writer]

Mavis made his way through the sea of people to get to his locker. No one spoke to him. No one paid any attention to him. He didn’t mind this, actually. It allowed him to pass through undetected like a ninja. It was a perk of being one of the quiet kids. Although, sometimes, he wished he had more than just four people to talk to.

He spotted Carter through the crowd and gave him a quick “Hey!”. He waved back in response, smiling at him.

Compared to Mavis' drab appearance, looking like he just got out of bed, Carter’s hair was combed back in a neat fashion, his eyes sparkling like he just got a good night’s sleep. His attire consisted of a black shirt, blue jeans and a red flannel jacket. He was a bit of an anomaly at school. Most girls talked to him, but he had never gone out on a date with them. He was popular, but he was always seen talking with Mavis. People had asked him to hang out with people of his social status, but he always turned it down. “I don’t want to leave my friend alone, you know?”

Carter grew concerned when he saw that Mavis' eyes were droopy. “You okay?”

“Oh yeah. I just didn’t get enough sleep last night.” He answered, rubbing his eyes.

“Oh… Did you…” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Dream about it again?”

Mavis let out a shaky sigh. “Yeah. I thought I got past that. I thought it had gone away in middle school.”

“Listen, if you need to talk, I can come over and we can. Or if you don’t want to, we can just talk about whatever. I’m fine with anything.”

Mavis smiled. Whenever he was around, his mood would improve a bit. They had both been friends since they were kids and they bonded over their family struggles. With Mavis' family, his parent’s feuds that constantly aggravated him. With Carter’s family, his mother having medical problems. He remembered the day of a particularly nasty fight where Mavis' mom and dad got into a screaming match. He had gone to Carter's house, crying, wondering if his parents didn’t love him anymore. “Is it my fault?” He asked him in tears. “Is it my fault mommy and daddy are constantly arguing? Weren't they supposed to love each other?"

Carter was quick to rescue him, offering a shoulder for him to cry on, reassuring him that his parents still love him. For the rest of the day, they played some of his favorite video games, played hide and seek outside with Mavis hiding in the shed, and even let him play with some of his action figures. Even though he felt uncomfortable about barging into his house unannounced, the fact that his friend was there for him in his time of need made it all worth it.

Mavis and Carter both got their textbooks out of their respective lockers and were about to walk to their classes when they heard a familiar voice.

“Hey guys! You lookin’ pretty snazzy today!”

They both turned to look at the source and their smiles widened. There they are. Tyler Lechner and Gavin Ozpin. They were both seen as the punk kids in school, always getting into trouble with school faculty. That was definitely why Charlie hung out with them. Tyler had a hoodie that had the logo of a rock band on it while Gavin was all decked out in his scene kid gear - ripped, black jeans and a ripped, denim jacket. He had multiple piercings in his ears and one of his eyebrows had a shaven mark on one side. He even got himself a tongue piercing which Mavis couldn’t help but cringe at. He remembered how he reacted the first time he saw Gavin's new look.

“Whoa! Dude, you look... Different. What'd you do?” He had asked him on their first day of sophomore year.

“Well, Charlie and Ty took me to a few places. We thought it would, y’know, change our status quo a bit.” He fluffed up his hair. “Gave me some curls too.”

“What status quo?” Carter asked.

“Uhhh….”

Tyler stepped in. “He just wanted to look different this year.”

“So, spent another boring night without internet?” Gavin asked, leaning against the lockers.

“Actually, it’s pretty beneficial. It allowed me to catch up on some reading.” Carter said.

“Pfft! Who has time to read anyway? There could be so many other things we could be doing. So many TV shows we could be watching. But thanks to the mayor’s bone-headed decision, our rights are slowly being taken away!”

“Gavin, you know there’s a reason behind the curfew and electronics rule.” Tyler said.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s because they’re trying to keep us safe from the mimics. But I mean, they didn’t have to say that we can’t use our cell phones after 9, right?” He waggled his cell phone. “I mean, I doubt someone’s face could appear on something like this and kill you.”

"I mean, it could be possible considering what they can do."

“Well, it’s best to be safe and follow the rules. You don’t want to get fined again, do you, Gav?” Mavis asked.

“No…”

“Good.”

They changed the conversation to something more suited for the morning. The point Gavin made about the cell phone restriction made Mavis think… There hadn’t been any reports of mimics coming through phones as of yet. Now that he thought about it, there wasn’t really a good reason for this rule. Maybe the mayor caved in after several paranoid calls from parents. Something about their children being influenced by Satan or the mimics. Business as usual in Crestwood county.

Other than that, life resumed as usual for the teens. Tyler and Gavin were talking about who knows what while him and Carter started quizzing each other to prepare for Mr. Bentley’s test.

"Hey Tyler? Where's Charlie?" Gavin asked.

"She's probably hanging out with her gal-pals. She always want to keep up the bad girl attitude." Tyler responded.

"Hmm."

Although he said that, they already knew who Charlie was.

Project Mimicry (Vol 1) - Chapter 1

"In the beginning, God created the heaven and the Earth." - Genesis 1:1

1983

"This is a test. This station is conducting a test of the Emergency Broadcasting System. This is only a test."

A long, screeching noise blared from the old TV. The Markson family had a different program on when they announced the test. It was some cowboy show their dad loved so much. For eleven year old Jade, it made her stomach churn. It was an odd sound, different from the sounds of horses and gunfire that came from the living room while they were doing family worship. It made her want to jump into her mother's arms and pray to Jehovah for the noise to stop.

Her mom, dad and brother were silent as the attention signal droned on. After a minute, it stopped.

"This is a test of the emergency broadcasting system. The broadcasters of your area in voluntary cooperation with federal, state and local authorities have developed this system to keep you informed in the event of an emergency. If this had been an actual emergency, the attention signal you have just heard would have been filed by official information, news or instructions. This station serves the northern Alabama area. This concludes this test of the emergency broadcast system."

Jade fiddled with the pages of her book, trying to think of the right words to say. Her brother, Caleb had resumed work on his drawing, seeming to not care about anything. Her mother let out a small sigh. "I swear, can they not scare the kids like that?"

"Mom..." Jade quietly said. "Why do they send out something like this? What if it hadn't been a test? Are... Are we gonna die?"

Opal got up from her chair and pulled her into her arms. "Oh sweetie, we're not gonna die. Everything's gonna be okay. This whole thing will blow over in no time."

"Well Jade," Opal's husband, Simon, chimed in. "They played the test on our TV because they want to inform us on what's happening. The world is at a very turbulent time at the moment so they are doing their best to keep us informed. If we were actually under attack, we would've been hiding in the basement." He let out a small chuckle.

"Well, what can we do to make it better?" Jade asked.

"Pray to Jehovah, of course. Our safety is his priority and if we pray to him, he'll protect us."

Jade smiled and snuggled into her mother. Jehovah is the only thing she knew. She may not be like the other "worldly" kids, but she didn't need all those material goods. She didn't need to see the latest movie or buy the newest toys. As long as she had her family and Jehovah, she can get through anything.

Caleb let out a soft coo.

"Oh, we didn't forget about you!" Simon lifted him out of his baby chair and gently rocked him. The whole family began to giggle.

This was their life. This was their routine. Jade was determined to be a good older sister to Caleb. And soon, he will be baptized.

-------

December 24th, 1983

"This is an important message from the Crestwood police department. This is not a test. I repeat, this is not a test. The Crestwood police department has issued a Shelter-in-place Warning for the county of Crestwood until further notice. Reports of unknown figures have been confirmed by law enforcement and the Department of Babylonian Crusaders. For your safety, until 5 PM to 6 AM, stay home, lock all doors and windows and, in the event of a break-in, have access to a loaded weapon at all times. Do not call 911 unless you need to report an emergency. The Crestwood police department and the Department of Babylonian Crusaders thanks you for your cooperation.

Stay tuned for a message from the representative of the Department of Babylonian Crusaders."

"Hello. My name is Dr. Lloyd Evans from the Department of Babylonian Crusaders. We have been receiving reports of unknown organisms that we've decided to call mimics. You may have already gotten the alert from the EBS about this phenomenon, but we're here to tell you about what those mimic types are and what you can do to protect yourself.

The first type are the defensive mimics. They are a sub group of mimics that take on the role of a protector when they find a human. Some pose as aggressive mimics to ward off other humans or they deceive humans they perceive as harmful with their harmless look and kill them. Think of it as a predator camouflaging itself in order for them to eat their prey.

There are three types of defensive mimics. There are Batesian, Mullerian and Emsleyan or Mertensian mimics.

Batesian mimics are harmless. They pose as a harmful mimic to ward off anyone they tries to hurt them or their human.

Mullerian mimics are two or more mimics that advertise themselves as harmful to ward off predators. These mimics often work in groups of two or three.

Emsleyan or Mertensian mimics take the form of a less harmful mimic to deceive the predator and kill them.

These ones can be considered safe, but you should still be wary of them. Aggressive mimics are the ones you need to watch out for. Now, aggressive mimics are the type of mimic that pose as humans to kill them. These types use mind games to toy with their victims. If they haven't committed suicide, the mimic will finish the job.

Predators are a mimic group where they take the form of a loved one, deceive them into thinking they are the real person and then use psychological manipulation. Those are the most dangerous types of mimics and we strongly advise to avoid them at all costs.

Parasites are [REDACTED DUE TO SIGNAL GLITCH]

Now, here's what you can do to keep yourself safe. Stay in your homes after 6 PM, lock all windows and doors and keep a loaded weapon with you at all times. In the event of a mimic attack, follow the S.A.F.E. principle.

S - Secure yourself in a room.

A - Access the situation. Learn how the mimic operates.

F - Fire your weapon. If the mimic attacks, do not hesitate. It can mean life or death.

E - If possible, escape. Do not let them win.

We hope this message keeps you safe. We're very sorry for the interruption and we hope you have a Merry Christmas!"

Though this message was broadcasted to most TVs, some of them reported the S part saying something different. According to reports, it said "Surrender yourself to the Lord."

--------

1987

The young man's back was pressed up against the wall. The shotgun he had in his hands had one shell left. The creature that was at his door kept calling out to him in a mockery of his wife's voice.

"Ralphie... Please let me in... I'm sorry for sca-a-a-aring you back there. You know how I am."

His grip tightened. That wasn't her. That wasn't his wife. She was dead. And now, he was going to die too. His eyes started to fill with tears.

Marla... I'm so sorry... I couldn't protect you... I couldn't save you from these things.

The image of his wife sprawled out on the kitchen floor flashed in his mind. Her neck that was gushing blood... He swallowed, trying to hold back his vomit. They had followed the rules. They had done everything the broadcast said. What did they do wrong? They had to have done something wrong for something like this to happen.

He gritted his teeth. Pondering over this won't help him now. Remember the S.A.F.E. principle, Ralph. Remember.

He secured himself in his bedroom, grabbing his shotgun so he could protect himself. He analyzed the situation. The creature, the mimic, was trying to use his wife's voice to lure him out, using his nickname. Ralphie was what she would call him when he came home from work. The way she said it made his heart soar. However, when it said his nickname, it felt like nails on a chalkboard.

The high school sweethearts had moved into the rural Alabama town after they had gotten married in New York. They thought getting away from the bustling city life would help them. They were in the talks of starting a family when the broadcast came on, talking about reports of mimics.

"Talk about bad timing. On Christmas too." Marla had said while bringing out the cookies and milk. "Let's hope Santa gets there okay."

"I hope so too. But hey, look on the bright side. This lockdown will end at 6 AM tomorrow. We've still got time to celebrate, right?"

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Besides, anything's fun with you." She gave him a light peck on the cheek.

A low sob escaped him. There was so much they wanted to do together. So many things they had planned. Their entire life... They were now gone.

Oh Marla... Why did they have to take you? What did we do?

God, please... Please help me.

He wiped his face. No, crying and pleading to some higher being isn't gonna solve anything. I have to survive. I have to live on for Marla! If I can get out of here, I could alert the police.

With a sense of courage taking over, he pointed his shotgun at the door. The mimic had begun to claw at the door, no doubt leaving scratch marks in the wood. "Ralphie... Please... Let me in. It's so cold. My neck hurts. Help..."

"Shut up... You're not her..."

The doorknob rattled.

"You're not her. You're not her! You're not her!!"

There was a sudden loud banging making him jump. "Ralph, open the goddamn door! You'd really leave me out here with these things?! How could you?!" The thing screeched.

"You're! Not! Her! Leave me alone!! You killed her, you monster!! You're not- You're not her!" He screamed, tears streaming down his face. "Just try and get me! I dare you! I'll fucking shoot you if you try anything!"

"Ralph..." His 'wife' had begun to cry. Normally, it would cause him to go over and hug her, but he will not be swayed. What it was doing, it was disgusting. It's desecrating his wife's memory, his image, his everything. The nerve of the creature...

The door flew open, allowing Ralph to see the monster. Though it was hard to see through the darkness, what he could see made him freeze.

Its form was tall and lanky, its arms and legs stretched out to an almost inhuman degree. What little hair it had on its head was beginning to fall off. Its skin was beginning to sag. Ralph could swear he was beginning to see bones. The mimic looked at him with empty eyes yet it pierced his soul with an intense glare. It opened its mouth to speak, but all that came out were rasps and gargles.

Ralph began to shake, his aim wavering as he stared at... He didn't even know what he was seeing. It was human, but at the same time, it was not. It looked like his wife, but it was like looking at a decomposing carcass. The smell... It smelled like rotten eggs left out on the hot sidewalk. Bile threatened to come up his throat, but he held it in.

One shot. He had to make it count. If it failed...

The creature began to laugh. It was the kind of laugh that made you cringe. It was an ear-piercing, gurgling laugh that was like if you tried to imitate a toy clown on its last legs.

Ralph pressed his finger on the trigger. Taking a deep breath, he screamed out.

"I will not let you kill me!!"

The gun went off.

--------

2017

The group of kids stared at the small house as their two older brothers talked to the movers. The smallest one of the bunch hugged her teddy bear. Though leaving their home state of Florida didn't seem like a huge deal at first, Catherine still had her doubts. Sure, they were free from all the hurricanes, but they still had friends there. They still had people they could talk to.

But now, she and her brothers moved to a new town. There was no one she knew there. And there was... an abundance of churches. Lots and lots of churches.

@chibisrpblog

[peachy-writings]

PARADOX [Preview] Viktor x Reader AU

Full one shot here (~_^)

Summary: Reader receives the shock of their life when Viktor essentially materializes into their world, forever altering their version of reality as he tries to get back to his own.

Content Tags: Gender neutral reader with They/Them pronouns (no use of Y/N), Kinda follows S2 Pt. 2 canon, Angsty, Strangers to Friends?

Sulfur.

That tang has always sprinkled pockets of air in the Undercity, to the extent that those dwelling within barely take notice anymore. Therefore, when you do, it takes you by surprise. You glance around the room, troubled. Had the ventilation system halted? Or worse—had Piltover’s best decided to poison your already polluted oxygen with sewage, or something similarly offensive? And then a sharp, metallic singe punches you square in the nose. So sudden that your eyes squash shut, overwhelmed.

After taking a moment to reorient, you are shocked by the sight of a man scorched onto the coarse floorboards of your shabby homestead. Like a meteor had cannoned through the building, but a cursory glance upward reveals no such destruction.

Even more curious is the man’s appearance; he is a sinewy splat, draped in a white robe, crumpled on his side and perfectly pristine. Despite the edges of his garment and the surrounding space having been kissed with char. Mahogany tresses cover most of his pale face, shifting over sharp peaks as he stirs to consciousness. All the while, you are struck statuesque with bewilderment and a whisper of utter captivation.

How?

Who?

Why?

The stranger groans, a hand coming up to soothe his head that must be pounding from such a sudden entrance. Amber eyes blink open slowly into a squint. Confusion, then some kind of realization has his eyes widening when they meet your own. Your expression must match his as the two of you scrutinize one another, a pregnant pause scribbling the walls of your mind with even more questions that you cannot fathom one single answer to.

“Tell me…” He breaks the silence with an accent that tells you he is a Zaunite, in spite of such an odd appearance for this origin. “Do you know who I am?”

“No,” you reply softly, cautiously. And then your walls come up, as though your subconscious punches an internal panic button. No matter how otherworldly this materialization has been, this is still a stranger. “You better explain whatever the hell this is before I manually eject you from my home.”

A nimble hand reaches for the nearest weapon: a knife you’d left out on the counter to be washed. In his direct line of sight, you hold the flat of the blade against your thigh, posed to get rid of any threat quickly and efficiently.

“There is no need for that.” He says your name. Your real, given name. You almost don’t react since it’s been eons since the last time you’ve heard it said aloud. That hand at your side clenches the hilt of the blade—Not in anger, but petrification. “You don’t seem to know me in this timeline. I promise I am not here to hurt you, but to ask for your help. You are the only person I can trust.”

“How do you know my name, and what do you mean by in this timeline?” You take a step backward, bumping into the counter and jolting when the rough surface meets your clammy skin.

“I will answer all of your questions, but first,” he clears his throat. “May I have some water?”

Viktor nation, please let me know what you think! I’m still working on the full one shot and should have it out by the end of next week.

[trevorsgodmother]

𝓘 𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓭𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶 𝓸𝓯 𝓱𝓮𝓻…(C.S 🌧)-pt. 2

ALL PARTS Warnings: Angst, CRYING, denial, heavy descriptions, mentions of accident, yelling POV: Third person/first person(Chris) Summary: Y/N's been gone for so long...but Chris still isn't used to it

It feels like he’s been laying here, with her, for years. Chris looks down at his girlfriend, smiling. But the sight of her eyes filling up wipes the look off his face. His heart clenches as he hugs her tighter, hoping his warmth will sooth her. 

“Babe…what’s wrong?” He asks, concern filling his features. She locks eyes with him, and sobs, burying her face into his chest.  “Chris…stop doing this. Please. STOP” He flinches at her hurt and accusatory tone. Anxiety fills his stomach as he tries to make sense of her words. Stop doing what? 

“What’re you talkin-” “Stop dreaming about me. Please.” His face crumples, and tears begin to sting his eyes too.  “I can’t-” “Why?” She chokes out, gripping his shirt like a lifeline, more to help ground him than her. “I just-” Chris’ breathing picks up, his eyes overflowing. He doesn’t want to wake up and lose her again…

“I don’t want you to go...”

"You need to Chris. For you. For me. Go find a new girlfriend or something" Her voice breaks even suggesting this. He didn’t want to. He never wanted to move on. It would feel like he was being unfaithful, since they hadn’t broken up before she died. It had been a freak accident on the highway, one he felt guilt for every day of his life. Chris tries to convince himself that it's only his subconscious trying to help him. But it's her face, her voice, her smell, her... everything, and he feels awful for doing something he can't control.

A smile forms on her wet face as she lifts a hand to brush away his tears. “I only want you, not anyone else.” He’s almost pleading. For her to come back, into his arms, both their happy places. “I’m not there though Chris…” she whispers softly. His body shakes with silent sobs, holding her tighter as if it’ll change everything and this time, he’ll wake up with her still there.

“I don’t want to go on- I miss you so much-” “Do you want me to stop coming at night?” Her words make him freeze. He’s clinging onto her like a scared child, almost to a point of desperation.

“No- no, please don’t. Don’t leave me-”

(Chris' POV)

I jolt awake, head pounding as I feel a hand on my shoulder. I look up to see Matt and Nick, the prior being the owner of the hand, the latter with tears in his eyes. “Chris… are you ok? You were crying so loud” His words make me wince, guilt hitting me right in the stomach. My body couldn’t tell the difference between my dreams and reality anymore, so the emotions I felt in my nightmares sometimes came out in my sleep.

I cover my face with my hands, letting out silent sobs. I couldn’t bear to see my brothers so upset. Because of me. I shake my head, the dream still so clear in my mind. A part of me just wanted to sleep forever, to escape this world just so I could see her again. “I’m sorry- I just- I just miss her” I let Matt hug me, feeling like a broken record because of these increasingly realistic night terrors. “We need to stop these dreams…” I instantly recoil at my brother’s mumble. I shake my head harder than before. It felt like everyone was suddenly telling me to stop. “No, I don’t want to.” My words are firm, but my voice wavers. Matt’s expression softens.

“Chris, they’re destroying you. Besides, you know it’s not actually…her, right?” Nick’s in the background, wiping his eyes. I nod slowly, my eyes filling up again. It’s like I had an infinite supply of tears, I always had enough to cry. The dreams had become a way for me to cope, and the thought of the emptiness I would feel if I didn’t have them made me sick.

(Third person) “I know, but- But I still want to see her, even if it isn’t really her. I don’t care…” Matt’s patience reaches its limit. Yes, he felt horrible for his brother, yes, he would never know what he felt, yes he was suffering, but-

“Chris” He snaps. He’s tired of it. Anytime they’d come up with a solution, it’s like the youngest triplet would shoot it down just for the sake of it. Which of course wasn’t the case. Chris flinches at his tone, suddenly quietening down and fiddling with his blanket. Matt’s gaze softens and his shoulders droop at the sight. Nick is standing there, shocked that his brother just yelled at their younger one. “We’ll be right back” Nick murmurs angrily, grabbing Matt’s arm and dragging him outside. Chris only hears half the berating and cursing Nick directs towards his older brother. He just lays back down, not wanting to hear anymore fighting, and tries to go back to sleep.

But he can’t. After countless minutes of tossing and turning, his brothers having left to go back upstairs, he sits up and grabs his phone. This was another definitely unhealthy coping mechanism, but he doesn’t care anymore. He tries to veer off his usual path of clicking into the photo’s app, ping-ponging through different socials that had been long abandoned. He grows frustrated of the no-longer entertaining doom-scrolling, and gives in. As the pictures load, he navigates onto the home screen and clicks on her album.

(Chris' POV)

She’s grinning in all of them, some alone, others with me and friends. I scroll through each picture, my face softening at the familiar face and smile I’d loved for years. I spend a little more time studying pictures of us two, grabbing on each other, laughing, kissing, enjoying being with each other. It was hard to accept the fact that she was no longer here, that the life in the pictures had been taken away from her and was slowly being drained from me. I pause on some pictures she sent me a week before the accident. She’s posing in some of her new clothes, looking proud of her purchases. So vibrant and energetic, a light overshadowing everything else in the room. A fresh wave of grief washes over me as I swallow a sob. She looked so happy…

I try swiping more, but to my horror, I can’t. That’s it. A beautiful life on her own, a 3-year friendship with all three of us, then a 2 year relationship with me, all narrowed down to just a few hundred photos. The finality of it all hits me hard, the full realisation that I’d never take another picture of her, get daily outfit pics, make more memories. She was gone and this was all I had left. The last pieces of her, and it would never be enough. It hits too hard.

I don’t realise that I’ve started crying again until Nick runs back in, my mattress dipping under the weight as he hugs me to his chest. I melt into the hug, cries increasing in volume now that I was being comforted. I grip onto him tightly, as if letting go would mean he disappeared too. I know I don’t show it enough, but they’re the only things grounding me now. My sobs slowly begin to subside, though a few still escape here and there as I try to catch my breath. I grip onto Nick just a little more, needing contact. After a moment, I manage to speak with a rough and broken voice. “I- I’m sorry.” Nick hated hearing me apologise.

“Shhh, don’t say sorry, we’re not mad.” “Are you sure?” I ask quietly, looking up with tired, teary eyes. “Yes. We can’t be. And we never will. None of this is your fault, ok?” I just nod, my lips trembling slightly as I try to swallow down another sob. Deep down, I know what happened isn’t my fault, it was just a horrible misfortune. But I can’t help the guilt that eats away at me, for surviving when she didn’t, for going on with life when hers was cut short in an instant. I look back down, the weight of it all making my head feel fuzzy and heavy.  

Nick interrupts what was about to be another downwards spiral. “Me and Matt talked…and we want you to sleep in one of our rooms again. Not every night, and only if you want. It doesn’t matter who’s. Or we could sleep in yours? Do you want to do that?” I’m a little quiet for a moment. The thought of sleeping in the same room as someone else, for the first time in 3 months, was a little daunting. But it would be comforting and help me feel less alone at nighttime. My voice cracks, and Nick’s face lights up in shock and slight excitement as I speak.

“Yea…I think I’d like that.”

A/N: Extra long bc I felt bad for leaving this for two weeks. I already have the last sentence of the last part planned heehee Taglist: @hearts4werka @stvrnzcherries @m00nl1ghts1vt @spaghetti835928383 @pvssychicken @moonlightsturns @snowysosturn

Don't steal MWAAAHHHHH Dividers by @bernardsbendystraws <3 -Ropitipop 👁👅👁

[chameleon66]

Ticklish tornado; An epic battle, Round one

Author’s note: About a week ago I got asked to write a tickle fanfic for Pomni and Jax and I have to say I had a blast writing this. I never really thought much about Pomni before but writing this helped me get to know her better (and of course I had fun writing Jax) So if any of you reading have a suggestion for a tickle fic for any characters from Sanders sides, Helluva Boss, Hazbin Hotel, Murder Drones, or The Amazing Digital Circus then please send in your ideas and I may write them (Won’t promise anything though). Also this can be read as romantic or platonic. With that being said, enjoy your reading.

Word count: 2535

Warnings: Tickling, Teasing, Mild touch aversion, Anxiety, Negative spiraling, Jax being a mischievous little bunny, angst, (Let me mknow if I need to add anything)

How many adventures must one go on to get used to this wacky place? Pomni thought as she walked through the portal Caine had opened up for them to go back into the circus tent.

It had been another crazy adventure of surprises, traumatic events, and trombones, and Pomni was feeling the drain from it. Not only did she feel exhausted but she also felt her anxiety racing in each of her fast heartbeats and rapid breathing, each movement around her felt like an abrupt explosion with her brain feeding her thoughts that did the opposite of soothing her troubles.

Will I ever get to leave this place? Does my family know I’m gone? Does anyone in the world miss me? How long has it been since I put on this headset? The digital world became increasingly drowned out to Pomni as her anxious thoughts began to snowball.

She was acutely aware of everyone sitting down in the couch area with her muscle memory being the only thing to pull her to sit down on a couch alone, away from everyone else. Whatever they were talking about was a distant murmur.

Her chest felt tight, her vision felt hazy, and her stomach felt like it was trying to digest itself. Pomni was indeed spiraling and like with most cases she didn’t know how to bring herself back.

Time passed, or maybe it didn’t? Pomni couldn’t be sure anymore. When the snap of fingers in front of her face seemed to pull her out of her spiraling thoughts and suddenly she was back on the couch with a close up of Jax’s face jumpscaring her.

“Ahhh!” Pomni screamed quietly as she flinched back.

“Oh good, you’re still alive.” Jax stated assured, while moving out of Pomni’s face and behind the couch.

Pomni then watched him walk behind the couch then lean both of his arms down then rested his head on them all while looking at her.

“How long have I been sitting here?” Pomni asked.

“If I had to guess~.” Jax dragged out the last word as he looked skyward in consideration of his answer. “About four hours.” He shrugged.

Pomni only sighed, even if Jax had been there far longer than her, how could she trust his ability to keep track of time?

“Everyone else checked in for the night.” Jax clarified, tha mean’t it was only her and Jax here.

“So~ something on your mind or is staring out into space with your eyes going on all scribbly scrabbly just a new hobby of yours?” Jax titled his head at Pomni waiting for her answer.

Pomni hesitated, her and Jax had never been close, in fact no one was close with Jax. Mostly because he bullied everyone and just generally made everyone feel uncomfortable.

Though he had seemed pretty nice back at Spudsy’s when he got back from…wherever Gangle had sent him off to and they had a short exchange, where he didn’t even try to joke or make fun of Pomni, so maybe part of him wasn’t all that bad.

“It’s just been…a lot, lately.” Pomni’s voice dropped in volume while talking just out of habit but Jax seemed to have no problem understanding.

“How so?” Jax pushed further. Pomni supposed if Jax got mean she could just ditch him and hide away in her room.

“Just - the idea of being here forever and missing out on everything life has to offer, you know.” Pomni wrapped her arms around herself before continuing.

“My whole life was just taken from me, I’ll never see my family again, I won’t ever die because that’s impossible here! But at the same time I won’t ever get to live because I’m trapped here for eternity! OR AT LEAST UNTIL I COMPLETELY LOSE IT AND ABSTRACT, THEN I’LL BE THROWN INTO THE CELLAR TO BE FORGOTTEN ABOUT BY EVERYONE-.”

“Pomni!” Jax yelled, stopping Pomni’s ranting. “Ok short stuff, I want you to take a deep breath.”

Pomni didn’t realize until then how audibly she had been hyperventilating so she did as told and inhaled as much air into her as she could then holding it.

“Now let it out. Slowly.” Jax instructed and Pomni did so, they repeated the process five more times before Pomni felt remarkably better and Jax saw the change too as the next thing he asked was. “Feel better?”

Though Pomni still felt heavy with worry she hummed with a nod giving Jax the answer he wanted.

“Good. Now I know it’s easier said than done here but try to relax. You don’t have to worry about a problem that doesn’t exist yet.” Jax hopped over the back of the couch and laid back beside Pomni sighed as he sunk back into the cushions.

Pomni fiddled with her gloves and her body refused to comply with the idea of relaxing as her muscles were still tensed and brain kept trying to throw her back into her anxious spiral despite her best efforts to think about something else.

“You’re not relaxing.” Jax cracked open one eye to look at Pomni who was visibly not relaxed with her tensed posture, leg bouncing under her, and her eyes fixated on her gloves.

“Ugh! I can’t help it, how can I possibly relax in this f#%king place!” Pomni exclaimed to the empty circus tent.

Jax had to admit she had a point, relaxation was a skill one had to master after coming into the circus and there was really no such thing as being completely relaxed, but if anyone needed to learn how to it was the chronically anxious and traumatized jester girl.

“Do you need some help?” Jax asked only to get a suspicious side eye from the jester in return.

“What are you gonna do?” Pomni asked back clearly, not sure of any idea Jax had.

“Oh chill Jingle bells. I’m not gonna try anything, I just wanna help out a friend. It's so hard to believe.”

“Yes.” Pomni said flatly.

“Fair enough, but this time I swear I just wanna help.” Jax smiled at her. This had a bad idea written all over it but Pomni decided that if Jax really was just gonna prank her or something then at least it'd take her mind off everything.”

“Fine, but don’t even think about trying anything.” She warned the rabbit.

“Alrighty then.” Jax stood up from the couch and went back behind it, leaving Pomni’s line of sight. She felt a little uneasy about this but tried to keep her mind calm.

Pomni then felt the pressure of two hands on her shoulders, her initial reaction was to flinch at the contact then immediately feel her skin prickle under her jester outfit.

She was close to asking Jax to stop whatever he was doing but then he started rubbing his fingers into her muscles and immediately Pomni eased up. While physical contact was something she had a love hate relationship with she was enjoying the pressure and warmth of Jax’s hands on her shoulders rubbing slow gentle circles with each of his fingers.

She could feel Jax smirk behind her as he continued rubbing her shoulders but she didn’t find it in herself to care, right then she tried to focus on the good things because that’s what had worked for her so far, holding onto the good things she remembered and from in the circus.

Reassurance from Ragatha, games of chess with Kinger, the pretty stars at night in the sky, no longer having to deal with–

A sudden shock moved through her nervous system as she felt a squeak involuntarily come from her mouth.

Her hand flew to cover her mouth as her tension suddenly returned with a bite. She realized that Jax’s hands were no longer on her shoulders but near her mid back around her ribs, he had probably just brushed against them but it was enough to create a ticklish sensation.

“Pom pom?” Jax hummed. He knew it, the jig was up.

“Yes?” Pomni answered back in the most hesitant way known to this digital world.

“Did I just hear you squeal like a little chubby piglet?” Jax’s grin was a mile wide, he knew what he heard, but he’d never give up the chance to fluster someone.

“Umm…” Pomni stuttered but lying would do her no good in this situation. “Yeah…”

“Don't tell me you’re ticklish~.” Jax was now wiggling his fingers at Pomni only succeeding to make her even more unnerved.

Pomni was stuck and no words were coming out of her mouth to try and defend herself against the claim.

“I’m not hearing a ‘No’.” Jax’s hand went back into Pomni’s ribs though she did see how he left the window open for her to push him away if she didn’t want it.

But once the first notes of Laughter rang through Pomni’s body she let her body go limp. She hadn’t thought about it but it had been so long since she had truly laughed. She recalled how laughing supposedly released hormones that make you happier.

She wasn’t exactly too sure how biology applied to the digital circus as biology and technology were two very far apart subjects but she certainly felt a little lighter than before.

“Aww! Look at the cure face you’re making.” Jax cooed at her. She was trying to squirm away out of instinct but Jax took the chance to jump over the back of the couch and over her to keep up the tickles.

Pomni’s face was now significantly red even though she hadn’t been holding her breath. The tickling sensation over her body was at the same time too much and too little in some paradoxical way.

“Jahahahahahahaxx, you M@H@H@Th$$RF###%%%R!” Pomni’s laughter even though the profanity censor was still present which only encouraged Jax to rile her up.

“Pom pom, how come you’ve never told anyone you’re ticklish?” Jax’s eyes were completely trained on her and her reactions to each spot, boy he loved getting reactions out of the others.

“Quhuhuhuhit teheheheheheheheheasing meHHEHEHEHE.” Midway through her sentence Jax‘s hand got in her armpit which caused her laughter to intensify greatly and she found herself getting a little overwhelmed by the stimuli.

“But you’re so much fun to tease.” Jax made a pouty face at her but then his signature grin reappeared as he focused one hand to tickling her ribs while the other tickled her armpit.

It was quite odd how not much effort behind the tickles was needed on his part. Seemed Pomni was quite sensitive to light stuff.

If her memory didn’t lie her pits were always a bad spot for her and she didn’t know how much longer she could take it there. Then she got a devious idea.

Pomni realized nothing was stopping her from fighting back. In fact Jax hadn’t even pinned her arms and hands down anywhere, he had just let them try and deter his hands from their tickle assault. Huge oversight on his part, as he would soon learn.

Through her laughter Pomni found it in her to reach out fast as a bullet and latch onto Jax’s waist and gave it multiple squeezes.

Jax let out a squeal of his own as his body went limp like a noodle overtop of Pomni. She turned the tables on him as she pushed him back into the couch and scratched much more ruthlessly at the front of his overalls

She took the chance and went for his stomach which earned her a stream of non stop chuckles.

“F$$$$%%%%K Pohahahahahahm Poahahahahaham! Nohohohohohohoho!” Jax’s attack on Pomni had been put on halt as his hands now tried to grab hers. His smile now miles wider.

“Aww~ Is the big tough bunny too sensitive to take what he gives?” Pomni put on her baby talk which only succeeded in making Jax’s laugh even more squeaky. He sounded like he was an actual rabbit who was getting loved on. It was just as adorable as it was hilarious.

She was frankly amazed that he hadn’t thrown her off him yet since he was like twice her height and she weighed about as much as a baby kitten according to Caine

Feeling eager to experiment with her new found power over Jax, Pomni went up to his ears and stuck one finger into one of them and began to swirl it around. Jax lost it.

His laugh grew ever more sporadic and uncontrolled and he began kicking his feet too. Though it seemed his ears provoked the same reaction within him as Pomni because he went on to go right back into Pomni’s ribs while Pomni Hands clung onto his ears continuing her retaliation.

They continued going back and forth for a while after that with each of them taking turns pushing the other one back into the couch and gaining the upper hand from them. They couldn’t even tease each other through their shared laughter.

At one point they had both even fallen off the couch and were both just on a floor still laughing like they were high on helium. After a couple minutes both of them were now just laying on the floor together giggling and smiling.

After everything went quiet for a few seconds when Jax spoke up. “So, that make you feel any better?”

Pomni sighed “Yeah, it- it did. Thank you Jax.”

“Yeah, yeah don’t get all mushy on me Jester. Just do me a favor and don’t tell the others about this, I don’t need them thinking I’ve grown soft.” Jax shook his head.

“Aww~ Does that mean you’re going soft for me?” Pomni broke out her baby talk voice again seeing how much it embarrassed Jax before.

“Hah!” Jax huffed out a fake laugh as he flicked one of the bells in Pomni’s hat. “In your dreams Jingle bells.”

Oddly enough Pomni laughed too.

Both of them said their goodnights and went back to their respective rooms both oblivious to the four sets of eyes that were secretly watching them from around the corner.

Ragatha felt like her heart was about to burst at the two’s cuteness, Gangle was scribbling down notes for her next tickle fanfic for her OCs, Zooble was smirking on the inside they planned to use Jax’s weakness against him the next time he tried to steal their limbs. Meanwhile Kinger was facing away from the group staring off into the hallway wondering what they were all looking at.

[philosophicalparadox]

Oh 100% Itachi is a parental figure to Sasuke. And you don’t even have to look at Itachi to see it.

Sasuke treats him more like a father sometimes than a brother. Especially given the overall narrative that this series usually establishes about father-son relationships, which to be fair are also reflected a bit in teacher-student dynamics but nowhere near as much.

And that narrative overall is not unique to Naruto but is a rather typical shonen trope thing about having a goal to supersede your father, to best him at his own game, or to otherwise surpass him. (This is a deeply cultural thing in Japan…but I am not going there today).

And while occasionally brothers do stand in for this as ordinary brothers, usually if a sibling, trope wise, has to step into the “you must live to surpass me” role, it’s because they’re narratively a paternal figure.

And like I said, Sasuke’s got all the clues here. He:

Is always looking for Itachi’s attention, be it positive or negative

Obeys his brother without even thinking about doing otherwise even long after the massacre*

Pre massacre, he’s clingy and needy towards Itachi because his father won’t give him the time of day, but also because canonically that’s just how he’s always been. Sometimes babies really do pick their parents. (I’ve been in that situation, sort of, otherwise I’d of said it seemed unrealistic. But no, sometimes a little baby just says “no, YOU get to be my mom!” And there’s really nothing you can do 🤷‍♀️ this happened twice, with my niece AND grand nephew.)

Sasuke is always striving to best his brother, even after the massacre, like when he was training with the Kunai, trying to beat Itachi’s record. Yeah that’s a typical sibling thing, but in the bigger context, like after Itachi’s death when Sasuke is once again trying to out-do him, it feels more shonen-trope-fatherly to me. (Though I will concede that I only really watch Shonen that leans in the general direction of Seinen, which is to say more mature themes that twist the typical Shonen narrative; Naruto both is and isn’t an exception to this. Point is I’m biased lol)

* in reference to two:

There is one poignant scene in which Sasuke doesn’t kill Naruto explicitly because he doesn’t want to do what Itachi tells him to anymore. He then semi reneges on this later and decides that severing the bond is more important— he’s still technically not doing it for the reasons Itachi said, but he has changed his mind all the same.

After Itachi dies, Sasuke decides to go counter to his brother’s wishes, but he’s ultimately still doing what he thinks Itachi wants…sort of.

Now, before I go here, I want to say that this is entirely my interpretation, and you’re free to disagree.

But when Itachi tells Sasuke to hate him more, that he’ll only get stronger if he harbors more hate…a lot of Itachi haters take him literally here, and/or are very confused by it. But in my mind, what Itachi is actually saying as a deeply traumatized 18 year old with limited life experience who has just come back to the place that started it all and probably isn’t in a great place is:

I want you to hate me as much as I hate myself.

And, in particular reference to the “you’re weak if you can’t hate with all your heart” thing (I don’t have the panels on hand) :

I want you to throw away or erase everything you ever cared about just like I did.

As someone who has dealt with severely angry and angsty teens before, this is the message I heard. He wasn’t really goading Sasuke on, insofar as he was looking for someone to commiserate with. And nobody else but Sasuke would genuinely understand. I don’t think it was a planned response, personally— Itachi wasn’t looking for Sasuke, and didn’t appear to know that Naruto was his teammate. So my bets are on that being an impulsive reaction to a stressful situation and Itachi trying really hard to put a wall between them while inadvertently pleading for closeness.

But the point is that Sasuke heard what he meant, not what he said. Because he knows his brother. And Sasuke did exactly that — threw away everything, just like Itachi, severed his bonds, just like Itachi, became a rogue, just like Itachi, etc.

You could very well argue that Sasuke just went and did that if his own accord trying to feel closer to Itachi, which I would completely believe. But either way it’s far more son-father than brother-brother in its dynamic. Don’t get me wrong they absolutely have their bro moments, like when Sasuke is chasing Edo tensei Itachi down and calling him a big fat liar essentially, and being a complete child while Itachi basically rolls his eyes at the Drama 🤣 it’s both funny and sad.

But overall there is certainly a sense of paternalism in their relationship. But it’s not solely defined by Itachi, which makes me wonder how anyone ever missed it.

Ever since @shinoposting made a post about Itachi being a more parental figure to Sasuke a couple of months ago, I've seen several angry responses to it, with the sentiment that "Itachi fans want to make Itachi look good and their parents look bad."

Listen.

A five-year-end boy is left alone on the night of the kyuubi attack with his toddler brother.

He doesn't even seem disconcerted, but instead promises "I'll always protect you, no matter what."

Itachi is the one who sits with him, despite his busy schedule, despite grieving Shisui, and despite being burdened with what's more than he could handle, he took time to check on Sasuke's report card.

Itachi was also ready to abandon his first Anbu mission for Sasuke's sake. It was after this their father even recalls he had to go to the Academy.

Itachi "ignored" Sasuke. And, like, what do people even expect from someone who's been this much burdened that isolating himself is the only thing he can do to protect Sasuke and his innocence?

Yet, Itachi doesn't know exactly how not to be distant. That's a sign of how much he was suffering at this point. He was "bad" after the massacre, but before that, he was kind and sweet, who cared about nothing but Sasuke's wellbeing.

[magicalbuttertarts]

26 on the smut prompt list, with current HHH (wrestling name/in-character) and f reader. thanks 🤗

WWE Masterlist

Smut Prompt List 2

This has not been proofread. Please enjoy though.

Warnings: Smut under the cut. Unprotected sex. P in v. Cock warming. Oral (m receiving) cum swallowing.

Requested by anonymous.

WC: 682

©️ magicalbuttertarts 2025: do not repost or translate my work. This is the only place I post my work.

#26: “Come here, you can sit on my lap till I’m finished”

"You told me you would be done by now." I told him as I closed the door to his office. He didn't even bother to look up from the paperwork he was going over.

"You know I have to get this last bit of paperwork signed before we leave today." He looked at me from over his glasses.

I huffed and collapsed in the chair sitting across from him, and I could see that he was enjoying me acting like a little brat.

The room was silent, the only sound was his pen scratching against the paperwork.

I began to fidgeting in my seat, and I knew Hunter hated when I just couldn't sit still.

"Come here." He finally said, pushing his chair back as I stood up, excited to finally leave, but he wasn't getting up.

"Now, sit here." He patted his lap as he saw the confused look on my face.

"I am not a child, Hunter." I went to go back to the seat I was sitting in, but he wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me back against him.

"I know you aren't, just sit here and look pretty for me. Yeah, can you do that for me?" My mouth went dry as he unzipped his pants and pulled his hard cock out, jerking it.

My pussy clenched around nothing at the thought of cockwarming him as he worked.

"Come here, you can sit on my lap till I’m finished."

I took off my panties, kicking them to the side and sitting in his lap, my chest pressed against his as I slowly sank down onto him, my eyes squeezing shut as my ass met his thighs.

Hunter groaned my name as I placed my head in his neck, shuddering at the feeling of him filling me up perfectly.

"Now if you sit still until I am done, then we can go." He grunted out through clenched teeth

"Okay." Was all I could say.

♥︎

Hunter kept adjusting us in his seat, and I swear it was on purpose.

I couldn't help but make a mess in his lap, as he worked. I knew his pants are a mess due to me, but fuck, he keeps hitting my g-spot just to make clench my pussy around his cock.

"Doing so well for me." He said to me as he kissed my tear stained cheeks, the pleasure becoming to much for me.

But he moved once more, and I couldn't hold it back anymore. I clung onto him as my body shook with how intense this orgasm was.

I could hear him swearing under his breath as he stood up, and laid me across the papers he was signing.

Wrapping my legs around his waist and pulling back just enough to leave the tip in before slamming into me, making me scream his name.

Hunter didn't hold back as he fucked me through another orgasm, his hands gripping my waist so fucking tight, I will feel it tomorrow.

All of a sudden, he pulled out, forcing me to the ground, demanding I keep my mouth open before shoving his cock in my mouth, just in time for him to cum.

His cum filling my mouth so fast, that I had trouble swallowing, some of it leaked out of the corners of my mouth.

"Fucking hell." He groaned as he pulled back, dropping back into his chair.

I wrapped my lips around his cock once more, cleaning him off as he was trying to catch his breath.

"Let's get out of here." He said as he stood up, tucking himself away and handing me a few serviettes to clean my face with.

"If we are going out still, I will need to freshen up." I told him as he helped me to my feet.

"Oh no love, we are going to find a bed, and I am going to spend the rest of the night between your legs, making you scream my name as you cum on my face." He promised as we walked out of his office.

Tag list: @lghockey @nicoleveno14 @legit9thlunaticwarrior @hooks-martin @madhatterbri @wwenhlimagines @melissahausen @tahiri-veyla