#how does it feel to be a PROFESSIONAL SIMP

[titfairy]

Tawan as Ira’s bodyguard be like

“You’ll never leave my line of sight.”

“I’m watching you 🥰”

“I’m looking at you 😍”

“I see you ❤️”

[icarusignite]

he leaves you out like a penny in the rain (p.3)

Pairing: Zayne Li x Non MC Reader

Summary: You spent years orbiting Dr. Zayne Li, but when a careless comment shatters the fragile bond you thought you’d built, you walk away. Only then does Zayne realize what he's lost.

Warnings: FLUFFFF. Zayne being a simp. A man who yearns is a man who EARNS!

Word Count: 5.7k

Disclaimer: Also, to all the lovely folks in medicine finding this, I am not a medical professional yall, so plz ignore any errors lmao.

A/N: Huzzah, last part! I just want to thank everyone who interacted with the last two parts. I loved reading every comment and reaction. I hope you liked how I wrapped it up. 

I will be doing lads x non-mc reader fics for all the boys, so lemme know if you wanna be tagged for those, and who you'd like next <3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | AO3

It had been months since the fallout with Zayne. Months of cold silences gradually warming, and old wounds scabbing over with routine kindnesses. He had chipped away at your anger with persistent thoughtfulness, but you were no fool. Whatever had cracked between you had re-formed into something more… professional. Friendly, at best.

And that was fine. You weren’t delusional enough to believe in fairytales. You took his gestures for what they were: The generosity of a colleague. Nothing more, nothing less. 

Regardless, the cardiology interns didn’t deserve to suffer the effects of your grudge any longer. You hadn’t stepped foot on their floor in months, and poor Dr. Greyson had taken to dramatically moping around in your office every other morning, as if his soul were leaving his body due to “muffin deprivation.”

So today, in a rare act of mercy, you stopped by the bakery across the street and picked up a basket of assorted treats, carefully chosen according to the spreadsheet you kept tucked away in your phone, listing every known allergy, aversion, and guilty pleasure of the hospital staff. Maybe it was ridiculous, but it mattered to you. People should be known and remembered.

You arrived at the cardiology nurses' station just as the lunch lull set in, and Nurse Yvonne spotted you first, her entire face lighting up. 

“Guess who’s back?” she announced, looking at you like you were some benevolent snack deity.

You were nearly tackled by a flurry of white coats and clipboard-toting chaos as all nearby interns surged toward you. You waved them off and laid out the spread carefully. 

“Oh my god—!”

“No way—!”

“Dr. Muffin! You live!”

“She returns!”

You grin at their greetings, feeling warmth spread through you. “Plenty available, worry not. Everyone gets one. Except Brian. You get half until you finish your progress notes." 

The intern, Brian, groaned. “I would’ve stayed home today if I knew I was going to be picked on.”

“Then you would’ve missed lemon poppy seed,” you remarked, handing him his with a raised brow. “And I know for a fact you love lemon poppy seed. Don’t lie to me, I have the receipts.”

“Okay, stalker,” he muttered fondly. “Thanks, Doc.”

“Maple walnut for Freya, blueberry crumble for Theo,” you continued, handing them out like a fairy godmother in scrubs. “No nuts for Amara. And yes, Liz, I remembered the vegan chocolate one for you.”

You looked up to see wide eyes, crinkled noses from grinning too hard, and a chorus of thank-yous that made your chest ache familiarly.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the sugar fairy.” Dr. Greyson was watching the spectacle with great interest. “Took you long enough. We’ve been surviving on vending machine despair and broken dreams.”

You snorted. “Sounds like your interns could’ve used a better attending.”

“I tried feeding them,” he promised solemnly. “But someone replaced my protein bars with ketchup packets and a single stick of gum.”

“Brian,” three interns chorused in unison.

Brian held up his hands. “Not me!”

Greyson shook his head in mock sadness. “Anyway. I’m filing a formal complaint with HR. You vanished for months, and morale plummeted. You owe us seven months’ worth of baked goods and emotional support.”

“Oh, please, you just missed having someone to complain to.”

“That too.”

The mood was buzzing with laughter and stolen bites, and even though you’d told yourself you were done chasing after external validation, you realized you enjoyed this feeling of being welcome and a part of something.

You were so engrossed with the enthusiasm around you, you didn’t even notice the subtle glance one intern threw toward the glass corridor behind you.

Zayne wasn’t expecting the commotion outside his office. Such sporadic bursts of conversation weren’t exactly uncommon at this hour, but what made him pause wasn’t the noise. It was the scent.

Vanilla, with just the faintest hint of cinnamon and sugar. It tugged a thread in his memory.

He stepped out of his office, expression impassive as always, until he saw you standing at the nurses' station, laughing. 

Actually laughing.

Your head was tilted back, your hair catching the light as your lips curved in a grin he hadn’t seen in months. You were flanked by your two interns, Clara and Nam, both helping you manage the leftover baked goods, but all Zayne could see was you. Your smile settled something in his chest, and completely upended something else. Something that somersaulted in the hollow beneath his ribs.

He cleared his throat, and the sound was enough to make everyone freeze like they’d been caught stealing vials from the laboratory.

"Do I get one?" he asked, deadpan.

A sudden shift fell over the group. Interns brushed crumbs off their coats, straightened their backs like soldiers standing to attention. But you just looked at him with a teasing grin. 

“Of course." You held up a brown paper bag. "Can’t have our head surgeon deprived of his sugar fix.”

Zayne stepped forward as you handed it over, and when your fingers inevitably brushed his, he swore his heart skipped a beat. Perhaps he ought to get himself checked for arrhythmia. 

“What is it?” he asked, busying himself with his treat to avoid looking at you.

“Something new. Thought you might want to try.”

Before he could respond, one of the cardiology interns—Brian, if he remembered correctly—let out a wistful sigh and groaned through a mouthful of muffin.

“I’d marry you for these,” he mumbled, eyes rolling skyward. “Just say the word, Doc.”

The entire station burst into raucous laughter. Except Zayne.

Clara and Nam stepped in front of you like bodyguards, crossing their arms with theatrical flair.

“As if you could keep up with our magnificent doctor,” Clara jeered. 

“Yeah,” Nam chimed in. “She wouldn't marry a guy who still confuses systole and diastole.”

“It was one time!” Brian protested.

The bickering rose in volume, but Zayne’s eyes stayed on you. He didn’t miss the way you humoured their teasing, or how your eyes flickered toward him briefly, unreadable. If it were anyone else, they would have shut down the jibes already, but the interns were comfortable enough to joke around with you because you treated them like friends, not your underlings. 

“C’mon, Doc,” someone teased. “You are married, right?”

“Ha,” Clara cut in with a smirk. “She’s practically married to her job, so the rest of you better get in line. Her attention is already spoken for.”

“Oh,” Brian piped up. “So like Dr. Li.”

A hush fell over the group—half amused, half awkward. 

Zayne didn’t move, but he raised a brow, appraising the young man carefully. “Is that supposed to be a joke?”

Brian flushed. “Uh—no, I just meant like you know. She's dedicated. Married to the work. Like you.”

You snickered, diffusing the tension by tossing Brian a napkin. “Relax, you’re not the first person to make that comparison.”

Not knowing what else to do, Zayne took a small bite from the pastry you’d given him. A mild citrus glaze hit his tongue. It was not something he would’ve chosen, but it was surprisingly pleasant, and he wondered how many more things he didn’t even know he liked until you handed them to him.

Brian, likely in a desperate attempt to redeem himself, addressed you again. “I mean, it makes sense, right? You and Dr. Li. Two of the most overworked doctors in this hospital. Same brutal hours. Same merciless expressions when someone makes a dumb mistake—”

“—same self-destructive perfectionism,” Clara added, looking between you and Zayne like she was connecting yarn on a conspiracy board.

Nam grinned. “Same tendency to pretend they don’t need sleep.”

“Same inability to remember where they left their coffee, or who took it.”

You rolled your eyes at that. “That was one time, Clara.”

Zayne shook his head. “Twice, actually.”

You turned your glare to him, but then, right on cue, Dr. Greyson interrupted. 

“I must say, it's awfully nice of you to rejoin us, Doc. I was starting to think Dr. Li scared you off for good.”

Zayne’s eyes narrowed. “That’s not—”

“Don’t worry,” Greyson cut in again. “We all know his effect on most people. It’s a miracle you still visit our floor at all.”

“Pretty sure it’s the interns she visits,” Nam pointed out.

“Obviously,” Brian agreed. “We’re the fun ones.”

Just then, Nam leaned in conspiratorially. “Alright, alright, before we let you get back to work, we need to know some important stats. How well do you know each other? You know, good colleagues who work together must know each other's habits to function cohesively.”

You frowned. "Nam, what are you even saying?"

Clara clapped her hands together. “Yes, excellent idea! Rapid-fire round. Dr. Li, what's her favourite late-night snack? Go.”

You opened your mouth to tell her that there was no way he'd know that, but Zayne responded before you could. “Subpar takeout from the establishment down the street.”

You pursed your lips sullenly. “You don't have to emphasize the word subpar.”

He gave you a blank look. “You get the same thing every time you're on-call. Even when you should be prioritizing nutrition over price.”

"I am supporting a small business! That is significantly more important."

Meanwhile, Brian pointed between the two of you with a dramatic gasp. “You watch what she eats?”

Zayne didn’t respond, but the twitch in his jaw suggested he realized he’d walked right into that one.

“You never notice what the rest of us eat, Dr. Li.” 

“I’m not responsible for your questionable caffeine intake, Brian,” Zayne replied.

“Okay, okay,” Clara said, grinning. “Next one. Worst habit?”

You smirked. “Dr. Li hoards pens. A concerning number of them. Once I borrowed one and he acted like I’d stolen a kidney.”

“They were organized,” the man grimaced. “You put them back in the wrong slot.”

Brian sniggered. “So you’re saying he’s a pen goblin. That’s fine. What about you, Doc?”

Zayne answered for you this time. “She volunteers for too many shifts. Even when she’s dead on her feet.”

The teasing paused for a beat. You glanced at him, surprised by the concern in his voice.

“That’s not technically a bad habit, Dr. Li,” Clara argued.

“It is, if it means she runs herself into the ground.”

Brian cleared his throat loudly before it could get awkward again. “So… you both don’t sleep. Great foundation. Now, last one. Dream vacation spot. Go.”

You both hesitated, then, spoke at the same time. “Somewhere quiet.”

Clara leaned into Nam and whispered audibly, “Okay, but if they don’t already live together, I’ll eat my stethoscope.”

Greyson, who had been observing everything with the satisfaction of a man watching a very slow car crash, finally interjected. “God, you two really are like a divorced couple who never filed the paperwork.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Alright, Dr. Greyson, if you're done assembling your case file for imaginary conspiracy theories, I'm going to go steal some gloves from your supply closet.”

Zayne glanced at you. “Out of gloves again?”

"You know how it is." You shrugged. "Kids love getting things sticky. Paint, glitter, jam, bodily fluids. It’s a fun surprise every time I enter a room.”

Nam made a face. “Why would you say jam and bodily fluids in the same sentence?”

“Because it’s true." Clara nodded sagely. “We’ve seen things. Sticky things.”

“And suddenly, I’m not hungry anymore.” Brian set his muffin down.

“You’ll get over it,” you said dryly. “It’s your favourite.”

Zayne, meanwhile, looked faintly amused in that imperceptible way of his. His eyes softened, and the edge of his mouth twitched. “I’ll have a box sent over this afternoon. You don't have to raid Greyson's supply.”

That earned a round of wiggling eyebrows and mischievous looks, but the two of you chose to ignore them. 

“I’m going back to work, as should the rest of you,” Zayne said curtly, turning on his heel and walking off, but you swore the tips of his ears had turned an endearing shade of crimson.

After that day, the interns of your two departments formed a coalition of sorts, although you weren't sure what their end goal was. 

It started subtly at first.

Whenever a shared consult with cardiology came up, Nam would look at the patient chart, let out a theatrical sigh, and say, “Oh no, I’ve just remembered I’m needed in the NICU,” before fleeing with such urgency you didn’t have the heart to stop him.

“Guess I’ll have to deliver the updates myself,” you’d declare, trudging reluctantly toward Zayne's office. Enough time had passed that you weren't avoiding him like the plague anymore, and you had fallen back into a friendly routine of bringing him his favourite macarons while he brought you whatever stationery you were currently in short supply of. 

The good doctor himself never looked surprised to see you, but then again, he never looked anything. Except when your hand accidentally brushed his while handing over a file, and he watched you like he was trying to solve a complex equation. One he didn’t yet have the formula for.

After that, the interns got bolder.

You once spotted Clara scribbling something into a notebook, and when you asked what she was doing, she yelped and slammed the book shut, claiming it was just her clinical notes. But you could have sworn you saw the words accidental hand touch: 2 points?

It only escalated from there.

Your coffee order was mysteriously doubled every morning as well. Whenever you’d go to pick up your usual, you'd find two drinks waiting, one marked with your name, the other with Zayne’s initials, forcing you to drop by his office. 

On rare free afternoons, when you went to the cafeteria to grab a quick bite between shifts, you would often find your regular table occupied by whichever interns were available at the time, and most surprising of all, Zayne. And every time, there was only ever one empty seat between him and the wall. 

You could have probably just taken lunch in your office, but you were curious as to what the interns were trying to accomplish, so you played along. Besides, if it got Zayne out of his office and actually eating on time, who were you to complain? 

One evening, you and Zayne were reviewing overlapping patient files in the cardiology break room when a slow song suddenly started playing from someone’s phone left on the table. The music was loud and awkward, and you promptly burst out laughing. 

“Is that… is that Careless Whisper?”

Zayne looked irritated, especially when a chorus of muffled giggles could be heard from the hallway beyond the slightly ajar door. 

You sighed. “We should probably put a stop to their antics soon?”

"Probably," Zayne agreed, pointing to the whiteboard behind him. "Have you seen Brian's latest artistic endeavour?"

You had to choke back another undignified sound when you saw the exceptionally detailed doodle of a heart monitor graph with exaggerated spikes. The words underneath spelled out your name along with Zayne's. 

"There's a spreadsheet too, apparently."

You nearly fell out of your chair. "There's a what?"

Zayne slid his laptop over to you, showing you an elaborately set-up document titled Dr. Li's Compatibility Study: Ongoing Observational Data, with columns labelled “Shared Preferences,” “Mutual Glances,” and “Chemistry–Debatable.”

"Why do you have access to it?"

"It was shared accidentally, I am told."

Your mouth dropped open as you examined it further. “They’ve graphed it.”

"The Pearson correlation coefficient is impressive.”

You buried your face in your hands. “I’m going to kill them.”

“You’ll have to take a number."

However, he didn’t seem as annoyed as you’d expected. In fact, someone with his disposition would have shut down the little project a long time ago, and it was almost as if he was letting it continue on purpose. You told yourself not to read into it too much. Perhaps he, too, was amused by their antics and wanted to see what their end goal was. 

And the next day, you caught him deliberately slowing his steps when he saw you walking into the hospital courtyard, matching your stride like it was muscle memory. He didn’t say much, but he didn’t have to. Not when Nam, Clara, and Brian were watching from the second-story windows with binoculars and wildly jotting into their notebook.

It all came to a startling conclusion the following week.

It began innocently enough, almost too innocently, in retrospect.

First, Clara asked to borrow your pager in the morning, drumming her fingers on your desk with a perfectly casual smile. “Mine’s been glitching all day. I want to compare the alerts side by side.”

You barely looked up from the patient charts you were reviewing. “Sure,” you allowed, sliding it toward her. “Just bring it back in a few minutes.”

She chirped an “Of course!” and breezed out the door.

You didn’t think much of it after that. You had rounds, consults, a half-eaten granola bar and a cold coffee to finish before midnight. A typical day.

It wasn’t until mid-afternoon that Nam groaned from the nurse’s station, holding his lower back like an actor in a bad soap opera. “I think I’ve aged three decades today,” he groaned. “Doc, could you grab more bandages from the supply closet? I’ll owe you my life.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Wasn’t that your assignment?”

“Alas, I am but a shell of a man,” he moaned. "I can barely move, let alone brave through that maze of dust bunnies."

“Fine,” you muttered, taking pity. “But only because I don’t want you fainting from sheer dramatics.”

That was mistake number two.

You made your way to the old supply closet near your office, the one you loathed. It was narrow like a crawl space, shelves stacked dangerously high, and perpetually dim because no one ever fixed the overhead bulb. You’d sent several maintenance requests, but never received a response.

You pulled out your phone, switched on the flashlight, and carefully picked your way through the tunnel of medical chaos. And there it was, balanced idiotically on the top shelf like it was mocking you. You glowered up at the box of bandages, already placing your foot on the bottom-most shelf to use it as a stepping stool, dignity be damned. You were not in the mood to hunt down a ladder. 

Just as you had hoisted yourself up a considerable distance, you heard footsteps outside. You turned your head sharply, opening your mouth to warn whoever was approaching. “Careful! Don’t let the—”

But your warning came too late.

The door swung open, and Zayne Li stepped inside. His shoe landed squarely against the cardboard box you’d wedged in the frame to keep the old door ajar, kicking it clean out of place. You watched in dismay as the door swung shut behind him with finality. 

“Noooo—”

Zayne blinked. “What’s wrong?”

You groaned, smacking your forehead lightly against the metal shelf. “That door is always getting jammed. And you just kicked away our only means of escape.”

Your intruder regarded the discarded cardboard box with an expression of mild guilt. “Oh… I am sorry.”

The space was dim and dusty, lit only by your phone on a nearby shelf, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Zayne’s face, half-illuminated, looked too serene for someone who had just ruined your day.

“Why are you even here, Dr. Li?”

The man held up his pager. “Weren’t you the one who called for me?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Why would I ask to meet you in a closet?”

“Who am I to question your cryptic summons? You said it was urgent.”

“I don’t even have my pager on me—" you interrupted yourself with a grunt, "—CLARA!”

“...Ah.”

You groaned again, your head thunking against the shelf with more feeling this time. “I knew something was off when she asked to borrow it. I should’ve known she was up to something. I can’t believe I’ve been outwitted by an intern.”

“They’ve grown bold. Greyson found a tally sheet on one of their clipboards last week. I believe there are betting brackets involved.”

“Of course, there are.”

Then Zayne squinted up at you, as if just realizing your precarious position. “Why are you climbing the shelves?”

“Because I hate my life, obviously."

“That’s an occupational hazard. You should probably get down.”

You cast a look down at the narrow space between you. You would definitely have to descend directly into his personal space. Like… very personal. Chest-to-chest proximity.

You gave a forced little laugh. “Maybe, uh… maybe I’ll just stay up here and call for help. Pass me my phone, please.”

Zayne rolled his eyes. “You are being dramatic. You can’t possibly make a coherent phone call while perched up there."

"It is surprisingly comfortable up here, actually," you countered.

"Let me help. I can't simply stand by and watch a colleague twist an ankle.” He moved toward you, standing in front of the shelf with his hands raised like he was expecting you to faint into his arms. 

“Are you seriously going to spot me like I’m a toddler on monkey bars, Dr. Li?”

“You’re the one climbing a shelf. The metaphor makes itself.”

You glared down at him. “Do not drop me.”

“I never drop the things I value.”

His voice was too serious, and your pulse quickened at the insinuation behind it. But you shook the delusional notion out of your head as soon as it entered. No, he was simply just being a helpful coworker. 

“That was almost too poetic," you teased. "Are you sure Dr. Greyson didn’t write that line for you?”

He let out a huff. “Come down, Doctor. Please.”

With a sigh, you acquiesced, placing your foot on the shelf below the one you were on. Then, for one distressing second, you slipped, but Zayne was at your side instantly, one hand at your waist, and the other catching your flailing one as you stumbled.

Your heart stuttered.

“See? I told you it was a hazard." Zayne's voice was hoarse despite the forced levity. 

You swallowed thickly as he helped you all the way down, hyper aware of the minimal space between you now. His hand hadn’t moved from your waist, even after both your feet were firmly on the ground, and your faces were far too close. 

You wondered if you imagined the subtle shift in his chest, the faintest hitch in his breathing. His jaw was clenched, his brows furrowed, and his usually unreadable expression seemed almost unsettled.

Was it discomfort? Frustration? You couldn't be sure, and that uncertainty made you uneasy.

You took a slow, calming breath and offered a placid smile, the kind you wore when trying to diffuse tense parents or scared patients. But strangely, it seemed to make matters worse. Zayne’s gaze only darkened, his mouth tightening like he’d eaten something sour. Yet he still didn’t move, or let you go.

You cleared your throat. “I’ll just go ahead and make that call now.”

When you reached toward your phone, his hand shot out and wrapped around your wrist before you could touch it.

You froze. "…Dr. Li?”

His name came out quieter than you meant, the intensity of his grip startling you. It wasn't painful, just firm. You couldn't decide if he was trying to anchor you or himself. 

You watched his throat bob, his eyes darting across your face like he was searching for something.

“Is it really…” he faltered. “Does it not bother you?”

His breath ghosted over your cheek, and you instinctively craned your head backward, trying to give him space, unwilling to make him uncomfortable. It took you a moment to register what he meant, but then, realization flickered behind your eyes.

“Ah… The interns and their jokes? No… it doesn’t really bother me. I mean, medicine is a gruelling field. If they find little ways to have fun, even if it’s at my expense, well…” You shrugged. “I suppose it doesn’t really mean anything, does it? All in good fun.”

You tried to keep your tone light, like none of it affected you. Like the implication that you and Zayne could be anything beyond colleagues didn’t sit heavy and half-formed in your heart each time someone said it aloud. If you turned it into a joke, then it wouldn't hurt as much when everyone else did too. If you pretended it didn't matter, then it didn't. 

When Zayne didn't respond, you winced at your own thoughtlessness. Of course, it irritated him. He wasn't the type to put up with such jokes. Maybe he loathed the idea of being with you in any capacity beyond a fellow staff member. Maybe he was just waiting for you to put a stop to it. 

“I'm sorry," you apologized. “I didn’t realize it bothered you so much. I’ll tell them to stop if you like. I’m sure I can convince them to set their sights on Dr. Greyson and that radiologist he’s been pining after all year instead.” 

You chuckled nervously at the end. A peace offering.

But Zayne didn’t return the gesture. He didn’t even blink. His fingers were still curled around your wrist, and the look in his eyes wasn’t one of amusement.

It was something else entirely.

 "All in good fun," you’d said.

Zayne nearly laughed aloud, except nothing about this felt remotely funny. Not when the only thing separating the two of you was his own desperate willpower. Not when he could feel the heat of your skin beneath his ice-cold palm, and your pulse fluttering wildly under his fingers.

Good fun—was that truly all it had been to you?

Because to him, it had been torment. Every single joke the interns cracked, every knowing glance and coincidental moment engineered to bring the two of you closer had driven Zayne to the edge. At first, he thought he could ignore it, like he did every other distraction in life. He was good at ignoring things and bottling up what shouldn't be felt.

But then came the little things. The way you brought him his morning coffee and favourite macarons every week. The way he had begun to anticipate your presence in his department. And worst of all, you'd laughed through it all. Every ridiculous setup, offhand comment about your compatibility, or synchronized schedules, or some other nonsense—you laughed. 

You smiled as though none of it mattered. As though he didn’t matter.

Meanwhile, he’d spent the past week like a man walking a tightrope over a fire, the heat rising, the air thinning, and the fall inevitable. All while you watched from the sidelines, unaware that his heart was blistering.

And now, here you stood, telling him it didn’t mean anything.

Zayne’s hand tightened slightly on your waist, grounding himself. Your flashlight, perched a few feet away, cast the softest glow upward, catching on your lips, your lashes, and the curve of your cheek.

It was unbearable.

He wanted—no, he needed—to kiss you. To cup your cheek, press his forehead to yours, and tell you how maddeningly bright you made his life. How much he thought about you when you weren’t there. How much he missed your stupid stickers and the smell of your shampoo when you leaned over his desk. And your eyes—gods, your eyes. He could drown in them.

Zayne had always prided himself on control. His life was a sequence of precision and calculation. He had no room for chaos.

But you were chaos. Beautiful, compassionate, infuriating chaos. 

You were the only variable he hadn’t planned for. The only person who could walk into a room and make his carefully built world tilt on its axis. And now you were looking at him with that sheepish expression and apologizing for a joke he would spend the rest of his life chasing the hope of.

How could you stand here, just inches from his mouth, and smile, and ask if he was the one who was bothered? How could you say none of it mattered when he was unravelling, just trying not to tell you he’d been in love with you longer than he’d even allowed himself to realize?

“Because of you, everything is spiralling out of control…” he managed to utter. “How can you pretend you’re not affected?”

Your heart thundered against your ribs, but your eyes were resolutely focused on some point behind his head. “I’m not sure what you mean, Dr. Li.”

Zayne let out a strangled noise of frustration. “I don’t know how much clearer I can make it for you.”

You scowled then, irritation lacing your words. “I suppose you’ll have to spell it out for me. I’m not in the practice of assuming other people’s feelings for them. You can imagine how messy it could get if I infer wrong.”

The silence between you was razor-sharp. Then, Zayne leaned impossibly closer, one hand braced on the shelf behind your head, the other still on your waist.

“Then perhaps I will spell it out for you."

"Best that you do."

He scoffed at that. You were aggravating as always. 

“I think about you constantly," he confessed. "When you’re not there, I look for you. I find myself listening for your voice in every room you do not occupy. I have the sound of your footsteps memorized. Every time someone mentions your name, I can’t help turning my head like a fool. And when you stopped coming around… it felt like someone had taken a scalpel to my lungs.”

He met your stunned gaze head-on, eyes so raw with sincerity you forgot how to breathe.

"You were brilliant back in medical school. You are brilliant now. And I’ve been in awe of you from the moment I met you."

Your mouth opened and closed like a fish pulled out of the water, and all you could give him was a hushed, "Oh."

"You do not need to give me a response, or even return the sentiment," he added hesitantly. "I just needed you to know. I didn’t think I had the right to want someone as exceptional as you, but I do care for you. Deeply. More than I’ve ever known how to say."

Your response was not what he expected. “…Are you feeling alright, Dr. Li?”

He scrutinized you, trying to assess whether you'd gone mad or were mocking him. “Why would I say all of that if I wasn’t?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you’ve come down with a fever. Or had a lapse in judgment. I just—” You paused, your throat tight. “Zayne… are you being serious right now?”

He didn’t flinch when you dropped the formalities. If anything, it made him soften, and he reached up to brush a stray strand of hair from your cheek. “I have never been more serious about anything in my life.”

"Oh."

“I know I said terrible things," he continued, almost desperately. "I know I hurt you. And I will regret it for the rest of my life. But none of that was a reflection of your abilities. It was my own incompetence talking, and my inability to handle things."

You stared at him, wide-eyed, and all the pieces of the past few months—his clumsy efforts, the apologies, the devout offerings—slotted into place with a painful clarity.

But still, your heart throbbed with old bruises. “You made me think I meant nothing to you.”

“I know.” Shame rippled across his face. “And I hate that I did. But you’ve meant something to me for a long time. I just never had the courage to say it, and for that, I will always be sorry.”

You pressed your lips together, trying not to cry, but your ribs ached with the effort.

“I missed you,” you finally whispered. “So much. I thought we were at least friends, and then you went and...”

That was all it took for the tension between you to shift, something tender taking its place. His hand was still resting lightly against your cheek, and his thumb brushed beneath your eye, as if prepared to catch a tear before it could fall. 

“You don’t have to forgive me. I’ll wait as long as you need me to.”

You looked at him for a long moment before dropping your forehead to rest against his shoulder, avoiding his gaze. “I’m still mad at you.”

“I’d be worried if you weren’t,” he murmured, a wry smile tugging at his lips.

You closed your eyes, enveloped in the scent of him—clean and sharp, like antiseptic and pine and something vaguely citrus. You inhaled it like it might tether you to reality, though part of you wasn’t entirely sure you wanted to stay grounded. This couldn’t possibly be real.

It felt too surreal. His hands steady at your waist, the hushed heat of his breath against your skin, the look in his eyes like you were something precious he was finally allowing himself to reach for. You weren’t sure what to think.

Maybe you were dreaming. After all, how many times had you imagined something like this during med school? Embarrassing little daydreams you'd never dared to speak aloud. You were just a giddy, overworked student back then, half in awe, half in love with the smartest boy in your class. The boy who let you sit beside him during study sessions, and always remembered your coffee order. 

So what were the odds that you’d end up here? In a tiny supply closet, no less. Whispered confessions. Flushed cheeks. Breathless tension. This was either your most vivid delusion yet or...

You pinched his arm

Zayne hummed in response, sounding offended. “Why’d you do that?”

“I’m checking to see if you’re real.” You blinked up at him, dazed. “If this is all real.”

“Don’t people usually pinch themselves in those situations?”

“I suppose… but this seemed more reasonable.”

A fond chuckle escaped him, and it warmed the air between you like sunlight bleeding through storm clouds. “Feel free to report me to HR after all this, if you wish," he stated eventually. 

There was a beat of silence before, to his surprise, you giggled. 

“Is that truly what you think I would do?"

"Wouldn't you?"

You shook your head, your lips twitching. "You're wrong, by the way."

"About what?"

"When you said I wasn't affected. You were wrong."

"Oh."

It was Zayne's turn to look bewildered at your revelation, the realization dawning that maybe you had been teetering close to the very same edge he'd been trying to rein himself back from. 

“You’re staring again,” you pointed out after several moments, half-teasing, but far too gentle for the joke to land.

Zayne didn’t waver. “I’ve wasted enough time not doing it.”

That made your mind fuzzy again, and you felt your throat grow dry. It was suddenly too hot in this cramped space, and there was only enough light for you to see the tension in his jaw. Then he shifted, close enough for his nose to brush yours, but still giving you every opportunity to pull away.

You didn’t.

When he uttered your name, it was a confession on his tongue. 

“Would it be… completely inappropriate if I kissed you now?”

The question nearly broke you, because in all your aching, sleepless nights of imagining this moment, you hadn’t once pictured him asking so gently.

You didn’t answer with words, instead closing the sliver of distance and kissing him.

It was tentative at first. Your fingers found the front of his coat, and his trembled where they cradled your jaw. But then he exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for years. 

He kissed you like he was making up for every second he hadn’t, like he, too, couldn’t quite believe this wasn’t a dream.

When he reluctantly pulled back, his voice was a low rasp. “…Was that alright?”

“You’re about several years late, Dr. Li.”

His lips twitched. “I’ll work on my timing.”

Hope I didn't miss anyone ❤️

Taglist: @floofycookie @heartandeye @lanxianschoenheit @loverindeepspace @treeteaofversailles @ikesimpleton @mysticcauldronspire @69-gojos-wife-69 @nm4565natty @ciexuvia @jeonjenny @plzdonutpercieveme @sylusgirlie7 @raethewargeneral @staarflowerr @eolivy @straykidslvr @lemurianmaster @preeyas-world @sillyfreakfanparty

@pinksaiyans @boudoirbae @ramenuzumakis @mcdepressed290 @snowshayla @sanzy4 @mentaltrouble2201 @inzayneforaj @coeurdeveea @chiikasevennn @loomslis @yuurisfavblog @wooasecret @dramaticalsachan @dorkus-minimus @inzanekillian @seventeen-x @chaoticunknownarbiter @kaitoshisluv @needsleep3000 @picnicinthegarden @kithyyy @needvbunni

[sanjisleggy]

the warlord’s wife (dracule mihawk x reader)

req: Oh if you want to you should do a Mihawk x reader (fem or gn) that's hurt comfort where the reader is like the exact opposite of him. Like she is usually so happy and sweet and kind. And something happens and maybe she starts to worry that she is too much for Mihawk because he is just someone who is quiet and to himself all the time and she thinks she is constantly bothering him

a/n: ahhh my first attempt at writing for Mihawk! a much shorter fic compared to my others but i hope you guys like it nonetheless :3c i’d love to write longer fics for him if anyone has any ideas yippee

contents: rude people (lol), insecure!fem!reader, simp!Mihawk, a tiny bit of angst, some hurt/comfort, fluff :3c

wc. 1k

wanna be on my taglist?

—

i. 

standing outside the large ornate doors, you feel your face burn with embarrassment as you contemplate simply going to the docks to wait out by the hitsugibune until the gala ends. as tempting as escaping from the horrific social situation sounds right now, your pride refuses to let you bow your head in defeat.

”i don’t know how else to convince you,” you try to appeal to the two marines standing guard outside the venue entrance once more, “if you could just ask him to verify my identity—”

”i’m sorry, miss,” the larger man of the two cuts you off with a less than apologetic look. “there’s just no reason why we should do as you say. if we listened to every man or woman demanding to go in, we’d lose our heads.”

your indignance and frustration quickly bubbles into pure anger and for a brief moment you lament having left your katana back at the castle. you bite your tongue, unable to think of any other way to convince the marine officers that you are, indeed, a guest who’d been invited to the gala because you’re literally one of the Warlords’ wives.

“besides,” the other officer chips in unprompted, “no offence but you don’t seem like the type of woman someone like Dracule Mihawk would marry.” his partner fails to hold back a scoff but quickly attempts to return his expression back into one of neutral professionalism.

clenching your fists by your sides, you try your very hardest to keep your eyes from tearing up for the second time tonight. normally such a comment wouldn’t phase you—years of being Mihawk’s partner has done wonders for thickening your skin—right now, though, you can’t help but feel a familiar sharp stinging sensation pierce through your chest.

of all the snarky comments you marine dogs decide to make, why this one?

ii.

it had only been an hour into the gala and already you regretted begging your husband, just weeks prior, to consider attending with you as his guest. the event was a grand one held by the marines every year to “show their appreciation” towards their allies, which included the Seven Warlords; and every year the invite would show up at your doorstep only to be promptly thrown out by your introverted husband.

”can we please go? i miss going for social events like these.” you’d pleaded that night in bed, hugging his arm tightly as you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck—a move he liked to call ‘playing dirty. “just this once to see what it’s like, then i’ll never ask again.”

both you and Mihawk knew it was a lie but the swordsman was nothing if not a simp for you so he begrudgingly agreed.

”care to elaborate why?” you challenge, taking the two marines aback if their surprised expressions are anything to go by. clearly not used to ‘civilians’ talking back to them, they take a moment to gather their thoughts—and at least have enough decency to look embarrassed at being called out.

”w-well—”

“your wife is such a chatterbox! it’s a wonder you’ve tolerated her for as long as you have!”

”your husband is whom? forgive me, i find that hard to believe.”

”i thought he was some kind of recluse?”

”maybe it was an arranged marriage. how scandalous.”

”i pity the poor man. all my husband does is talk and it drives me insane some days.”

”darling?” a deep familiar voice calls out from behind you, accompanied by the sound of heeled shoes clicking against stone. before you can turn around, you feel his warm hand rest itself on your shoulder, the comforting heat of his body engulfing you from behind. “i’ve been looking for you.”

the blood drains from both the marine officers’ faces, their eyes widening in shock as it dawns on them what a mistake they’ve just made. as though pleading for mercy, the eyes of the larger man flickers in your direction, almost screaming: “please, i’m too young to die.”

”were these men giving you trouble?” Mihawk probes gently, using his other hand to tilt your head in his direction. the moment his eyes meet your own and widen ever so slightly, you know there’s no point lying. as much as you’ve been able to hold back your tears of frustration well enough to fool the average man, your husband is anything but average.

mouths still agape, the marine officers can do nothing but watch as the notorious swordsman proceeds to cup your face with his right hand in a manner so tender they can’t help but suspect he’s an imposter. unbothered by the unbelieving stares sent his way, Mihawk brushes his thumb under your eye as though to confirm his suspicion.

”they were but it’s okay now,” you finally reply, placing your hand over his to hold it in place as you relish in the comforting warmth of his palm.

”what did you do to my wife?” he disregards your subtle plea for peacemaking. he knows you well enough to infer that you simply don’t want him to make a scene for the sake of maintaining his public image. 

Mihawk’s aware of how much you actually enjoy silently watching him defend your pride and honour; and he also knows from experience how happily you’ll reward him with your honeyed words and sweet touches later tonight, when it’s just the two of you alone together. it concerns him, slightly, if he were to be honest, how easily you have him wrapped around your finger—but that’s something to think about another day. 

the marines stutter and stammer but nothing coherent leaves their lips, all linguistic ability fading into nothing under the angered gaze of the Warlord.

”be thankful my beloved is as kind as she is,” the swordsman warns, all the while maintaining his hardened glare. “know that had she not vouched for you two, i’d have no problem killing you right where you stand.”

—

taglist: @irethepotato @i-reblog-fics-i-like @grierpilots

[kenzdolls]

KEIGO TAKAMI RELATIONSHIP HCS .

⌗ pairing: keigo takami (hawks) x gn! pro-hero! reader ⌗ tags: hawks x reader, keigo takami x reader, keigo x reader, mha x reader, bnha x reader

⌗ side note: [this is a re-fixed post to align with my new theme for my blog]

FIRST TIME MEETING:

▹ he clocks you immediately during a hero meeting. it's not just your hero costume (though, let's be real, he appreciates a good design). he's sizing you up strategically, noting your power, your demeanor, and how you interact with the other heroes. it's professional... at first.

▹ your first real conversation happens during a joint mission. maybe you're both tracking a villain known for their swift escapes, and you end up covering the rooftops together.

▹ he'll make a comment about your performance in the mission. he will call you by 'miss/sir', as it is only professional. but he will compliment you, no matter what goes wrong.

▹ he's observant. he notices small details about you – the way you handle your quirk, the way you interact with civilians, even the brand of coffee you're sipping. this info goes straight into his mental file labeled "things i find interesting about [reader's hero name]."

▹ he's testing the waters, dropping subtle hints. a casual "maybe we should grab coffee sometime and compare notes?" is pure hawks – playing it cool while secretly wanting to know everything about you.

HIM FALLING IN LOVE:

▹ he starts "coincidentally" showing up where you are. training facilities, hero galas, even that one yakitori place you love. he'll play it off as being in the area, but we all know better.

▹ teasing. SO MUCH TEASING. he'll poke fun at your hero name, your costume quirks, anything he can get away with. but it's always lighthearted and playful, never mean-spirited. it's his way of gauging your reactions and pushing your buttons (in a good way, of course).

▹ feather messages become your new norm. they arrive at your agency, your apartment, maybe even during a stakeout. short, silly notes or helpful Intel, always signed with a mischievous feather flourish.

▹ he seeks you out specifically during large gatherings. he is a social butterfly, but he will try to talk to you. he will always try to have you close to him than other people.

▹ he starts confiding in you about the commission, about his doubts and worries. he doesn't do this with just anyone. you're earning his trust, and with keigo, that's a BIG deal.

HIM AS S/O:

▹ dates are never stuffy or predictable. think rooftop picnics with a city view, late-night patrols fueled by convenience store snacks, and impromptu karaoke sessions. he keeps it fun and spontaneous.

▹ he’s 100% a TOUCHER. a hand on your back, a playful nudge, a casual arm around your shoulders. nothing too intense, but always a reminder that he's there and he's into you. he’s a simp.

▹ PDA is subtle but sweet. no grand gestures, but you might find him absentmindedly playing with your hair while you're talking, or leaning in close to whisper something in your ear.

▹ he sends you pictures of chickens. sometimes he “finds” them on the side of the street. or see them in the pet store. if he does see chickens, he will send it to you.

▹ he opens up more about his past, about his fears and his dreams. he is still guarded, but he lets you see glimpses of the real keigo takami, the one behind the wings and the bravado.

▹ he's fiercely protective. Not in a controlling way, but he's always looking out for you, making sure you're safe and comfortable. he'll take on any villain who dares to threaten you.

▹ he makes corny jokes, especially chicken/bird-related ones.

▹ he will make you feel the safest you've ever felt in your life. after everything he has went through, he will try to protect you with his life.

▹ falling asleep on his wings is the best thing ever. just don't be surprised when you wake up covered in feathers.

© kenzdolls 2025 — don’t post, copy, or plagiarize my work.

[moonveiltarot]

What in the FUCK is their PROBLEM with you?! PT 2. quickie reading

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　˚　.　　 . ✦

As usual this is for entertainment purposes only, not everything will resonate with everyone, I am not a professional, this is not advice.

Four piles to choose from again.

What is that person's actual problem with you pt 2?! This can be the same person you asked about in the previous reading or a different one.

These types of readings can make us feel seen / heard when we're dealing with a literal c**t bag. ):

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　˚　.　　 . ✦

1.) songs: deserve each other - bludnymph. the cost of giving up - poppy. astrology: leo, aquarius, sagittarius, pisces

They showed their bare a$$. Or basically they showed their true colors. They liked being sneaky; scheming, plotting and executing their evil plans. This brought them joy and false sense of power.

You knowing the truth of what they did or how they move ripped that pleasure right out of their soul. You snatched that mask right off of that person's face.

You saw their behaviors and maybe even warned others of them. Regardless of whether other people knew / did anything about it or not, you distanced yourself and you cut them off (or you will, because you're smart).

Some of you drawn to this reading, you might even have evidence to drop or already have posted, shared or spread the information.

They hate that their true colors are out for all to see. You exposed or soon will expose their insecurities and make them feel put in the spotlight, but in a bad way. Like they're having everything they did wrong illuminated.

If they had help or helped someone destroy your life, relationship, friendship or anything that you cared about, out of sheer meanness, they are stuck with that group. They hate each other and are at each others' throats. They all are afraid of someone going rogue.

They may have done something so evil it had your mental health in a chokehold. You have seen some serious darkness in them. They are so deeply disturbed over the fact that you know exactly what is up.

2.) songs: zombified - falling in reverse. my demons - starset. astrology: gemini, aquarius, taurus (may specifically?), virgo

They get a front row seat to seeing you win. You're coming into a season of abundance ad blessings.

Or you just won something and it garnered attention. This could be a game, triatholon, a scratchcard, a baby shower game… anything where you won.

They have to watch you eat a feast that they wish they deserved. They could have tried to knock you off your throne. Seeing you in an abundant position makes them feel incredibly "lacking" in a particular area. Which area? It depends on your person and their insecurities. Like they might have a lack mindset or insecurities about how their percieved by the public… Hm. Pile 3 has messages about people wantingto be perceived a certain way in the public, so check it out if you're drawn to.

This is a greedy, jealous and almost delusional person. Their sense of entitlement is not right. This person may seem to have everything handed to them, but you may have noticed not very many people are around them. Like they have one simp and a cousin that is overly attached to them for some reason. Oddly specific example … anyway, this person is not adored in the same way you are. They feel like you're being given something and they think "why not MEEEE?! who does pile 2 think they are?!" I specifically heard "who does she think she is??" but place your own pronouns if this resonates.

This individual is vengeful. You ARE protected. They are about to show everyone how greedy they really are with an act of enraged entitlement. Others will not be scared or impressed, only disgusted. They will avoid this person and stop viewing them as a human. They will block this person out for good. The person you inquired about, pile 2, is sadly mentally incapable of having empathy.

Your light doesn't touch them, they cannot understand it. They only understand it is something valuable to be held and adored, to be looked upon with love and appreciation. But you know it was Hell and High water to get the privilege you have. This person is jealous and doesn't even have the capacity, mentally, to understand. Note: This person is out of touch partly because of social media. Maybe they have an addiction to it or only live online? They think real-world consequences do not exist / adhere to them. They are truly out of touch. Touching grass is not enough to fix them. They need a 5150. Stat

3.) songs: the devil is a gentleman - merci raines. fairly local - twenty one pilots. paint the town red - doja cat. astrology: cancer, libra, leo year of the dog, valentine's day?, capricorn, january 1st … so that was random and not just astrology, but i'mma leave it here.

This person sees you being percieved by the public in the same way they want to be. They like how the public responds to you and want it for themself. They want to be like you and they might even want to have your partner too. Or they want to be your partner and take your current partner's place. They see you enjoying something beautiful. A truly happy marriage or relationship. They are going to try to turn you against someone who is actually good for you.

They will try to disguise themself as a true friend. They will lie and deceive as often as they have to in order to maintain their public image. They are fake as fuuuuuuccckkkkk, pile 3. You might have even fallen for it.

They want others to think it's you or your partner / friend that is the deceptive one, but it's them. Their a liar… they plan to gossip and scheme while you aren't around.

Ugh, if they invited you into a friend group, the others are afraid to talk to you. They are afraid to talk to you because of something this person has done or said. They are afraid of hurting this person's feelings. Or afraid of this person's reaction. They are probably confused, but since it's the "clique-ish" thing to do, they decided to turn their backs on you too. They might be kind to you, but just barely acknowledge you, looking back to the person you asked about. And then back to you. Then back to the person. Just awkward vibes. Because they aren't mean by design. They just fear the social consequences of upsetting or doing wrong by your person.

This could be someone who is relatively popular who sees that you have some kind of talent of any sort. If you don't already, you possibly could. If you got a platform, this scares this person.

You know what they are really like behind closed doors too. They know you know who they are.

They are evil as Hell and they act all goody-two-shoes on the surface. They are vindictive, jealous and mean. This slips out in passive aggressive ways. They give "spoiled bitch princess who acts like they never do anything wrong and have main character syndrome and act like their bratty bullshit is actually adorable to anyone on the planet." Long winded, but true. The thing is, it's forced. You won't let them impose themselves on you or what you have going on. You won't gossip with them. You shut that shit down. You aren't evil like them, you're genuine and that's why they perceive you as a threat.

You probably noticed some passive aggressive behavior from them. Relative, co-worker, colleague, peer of some sort, ex friend, ex partner… whatever they are to you, they are jealous of you period. They know that you could dethrone them in front of god and every body, so they're doing dirty work and fast to make it look like you're way more evil than you are. They are setting up scenarios too. But people are catching on. They're in such a hurry to do this stupid shit others are able to see it. Like they won't talk? If they gossiped with your person, they will gossip with each other about your person.

Anyway, don't worry about this. Their insecurities and immaturity is so sad and pathetic. It's obvious to everyone they run to. They're destroying their own image. Their jealousy is destroying them. Because they are too motivated by it.

You're also in your own stratosphere and they can't infiltrate. Here's an example: You cosplay or are in a band or something. They are cookie cutter prep. You post a hot cosplay that gets lots of attention, maybe a week or two before Halloween. Come Halloween, this person has a shabby costume and it looks like a direct rip off of your own cosplay or it's from the same cartoon or series. Just one obvious example. It's annoying, but not dangerous. Your strength of character and actions speak for you. Your buddies or friends, or even just yourself, in this situation are like ... "bro is this person okay? Like??? Dafuq?" They think they are competing and eating you up, but they don't even understand the culture. They aren't some new person trying to gain inspo or be like you, they are trying to out do you and simply lack what it takes. They probably don't even notice this about themselves.

The icing on this shit cake is that you. do. not. even. give. a. damn. You don't even care about / aren't even affected by their bullying tactics. It's giving toddler trying to bullying a grown ass adult, but physically everyone in the situation is grown up.

4.) song: It's 3am, come ride with me.. by Ksunemoto (this is a midnight rides on a motorcycle kind of reading). astrology: gemini, pisces, sagittarius, aquarius

This person wants to skin walk you. They are scary … I mean, I can see that their mind is twisted up. This is a person who could become truly empty and unempathetic. I don't want you to be scared or think you're gonna be a true crime victim. I'm seeing it not going that far. You probably already know this person is being weird around you. They are stalking you to be like you. If you EVER feel like you're in danger from someone tell the proper authorities. This will be a guidance counselor or police. The police aren't saviors, but having this on record is a good idea. Anyway, only if they truly scare you.

I don't like to give scary messages. So, know that you are protected from this person. They are going to end up making themselves look embarrassing. The potential of them doing something crazy is there, I can see that. But I know they won't go that far. You are so protected from this. This person is a social pariah, really. They try to emulate humans and just keep failing to do so. It's kind of sad… but they are bothering you because they keep showing up. They might just stare from afar.

I see that this person has had a hard time integrating with peers and society in general. Instead of owning that, they are trying to become someone others like and admire. They think this about you. The truth, that they may not even see, is that they are the one pedestalizing you. They think you are cool and beloved and everything they think they have to be in order to be loved, adored, like, accepted etc.

They may have been shamed out of being their natural self and so they have resentment and admiration both. This makes me sad, but you cannot be their friend.

Keep your distance. They are too sick right now to understand friendship, how to hold onto it and how to appreciate it. They are vengeful and angry, not with you per se, but with society. They resent you for having what they believe they never could.

They are in this loop because they keep trying to fit into society's mold of "perfect" or "ideal." They haven't yet learned that there is so much pwoer in their authenticity. This person may have even killed that part of themself. Their inner child may be… gone. Permanently.

There is no need to try and help, just go your own way and avoid run ins with them if possible. Keep your distance and they will find someone else to latch onto. For some readers: This person could be ND (neurodivergent) and if that's the case, they are just observing you, but do not have an actual problem with you. Have compassion for them, be kind and move about your life.

Disclaimer: Hey, so … I know tarot is not a tool for diagnosing, treating or advising anyone about mental health or disorders of any sort. I'm not trying to do that. My readings are colored by the experiences I've had. I'm using the examples spirit is bringing to my mind. That's all. As always, tarot is just a tool to see where you are on your journey. Always use your best judgement, this is not advice and I am *not* a professional of any sort. You can always manifest a different circumstance and a different outcome for any situation. Simply demand your desire and proclaim it as already done. Be safe, well wishes, toodle-oo~ 💖

[togrowoldinv]

Love and Baseball

Milf!Wanda Maximoff x Reader

You help coach a little league baseball team and meet the most perfect woman

Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, oral (W receiving), simping

Note: I have missed writing for Wanda. Enjoy this one!

Milf Wanda Masterlist, Main Masterlist

Wanda didn’t mean to fall for you. And she really didn’t even realize she had until she saw you with someone else.

Her twins are on the baseball team you help coach. Your nephew is one of the players, so when they needed another coach you jumped in to help.

The moment she met you Wanda knew she was attracted to you. But she tried to fight it. You’re younger than her. Enough so, she’s pretty sure you never think twice about her.

Little does she know that you find yourself thinking about her all the time. That sweet, innocent single mom of two of your favorite players.

Yes, all coaches have favorites. And Billy and Tommy are two of yours. Maybe because their mom is adorable. Every week she brings snacks and makes sure all of the kids have water.

Tonight, for the first time you see her outside of the baseball field. You internally cringe when you see her walking into the restaurant you’re at. You’re kind of on a date.

She catches your eye from by the door. She’s too polite not to come and say hello once she’s been shown to her seat.

“Y/n, hi,” Wanda greets you.

“Hey, Mrs. Maximoff,” you say. Keeping it professional is a curtesy to her, but really you just love the way she looks at you after you’ve said it.

“Are you enjoying your night off?” She asks.

“Yes ma’am,” you reply. “Just on a date here.”

“Oh, my apologies for interrupting!” Wanda says. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yes ma’am. Tomorrow night back on the diamond.”

“See you then,” she says, leaving you with a smile.

You turn back to your date and don’t see that Wanda’s smile turns into a frown for the rest of the night. She gets distracted watching you have a good time. Wanda wants to be the person across from you making you laugh.

She realizes she wants you.

The next day Wanda dresses in a shirt that’s a little too low cut for a baseball practice. She surprises herself with how much she wants to go after you.

Practice goes as usual, but afterwards you notice Wanda is lingering. She even sends her boys home with a friend.

You’re kneeling on the ground picking up equipment when she approaches you.

“Could I speak to you for a moment?” Wanda asks.

“Yeah, no problem,” you say, standing up to meet her level. Your eyes do cut to the skin revealed by her shirt. “Is everything okay? Boys good?”

“Oh, yes. Everything’s fine,” she says. “It’s just- well-“ Wanda begins. You have no idea where she’s going with this. “My church is starting an adult softball league and I have absolutely no idea how to play.”

You’re sure she’s lying by the way her eyes don’t quite meet yours. But you don’t care.

“Ah okay,” you say. “You need some lessons from Coach Y/n?”

Wanda blushes. “Yes please.”

“Of course. Anything for you, Mrs. Maximoff. Let’s get started.”

You and Wanda walk to home plate to together. All you have is a child’s bat but it’ll do for her to learn the basic movements.

“Let’s see you swing,” you say.

You take a step back and watch Wanda use the worst form you’ve ever seen. No way she’s that bad at it. You hold back a chuckle.

“That was bad wasn’t it?” She asks. You don’t say yes but you don’t say no either. “I’m helpless.”

“No, no. You can do this, Mrs. Maximoff.”

“You know you can call me Wanda,” she says.

“I could, but why would I want to when you blush every time I call you Mrs. Maximoff?” You tease her.

That really makes her blush. You step behind her and help her grip the bat better. Your front presses against her back and Wanda feels a sensation in her entire body.

“Try it this way,” you tell her.

You wrap your hands around hers on the bat and swing together. It’s much better this time.

“That’s it, Mrs. Maximoff!” You say. “Let me get some balls and you can actually hit some.”

“Wait,” she says before you can move.

“Yeah?”

“Um- show me again?”

Instead of doing that, you put your hands on her waist and turn her around to face you. You keep your hands there tightly.

“You know if you want to be close to me, you could just ask,” you say, hoping you read this right.

By the way her breath hitches, you read this completely right.

“I- you’re young,” Wanda says.

“So? If you want this, don’t fight it. Mrs. Maximoff, why deny yourself the pleasure?” You grip her waist impossibly tighter. Your chest is practically pressed against hers.

“Because it’s just- it’s not right,” she says.

“Okay,” you say. “We’ll walk away like nothing happened. Or we could go back to my place?”

Her eyes go wide. She had no idea how you wanted her. She wonders how long she’s ignored the signs.

“I have to be home tonight for my boys,” she says. She glances at her watch. “By 8.”

“We’ll go to your place then,” you say. “Come on. Say yes.”

Wanda hesitates, but she nods. You abandon your clean up job follow her to her car. The drive to her house is quiet. You can tell Wanda’s nervous, but you hope she’s actually excited.

You follow her into her house. There’s photos of Wanda and the kids littering the walls. Along with some of friends and other family members.

“Oh, is this you?” You ask her, pointing to a photo of a young girl.

“That’s me,” she answers. “Do you want a drink?”

“Sure,” you say. You sit on the couch while she pours a glass of wine for you. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“You’re welcome,” Wanda says.

You sit close to her, but you want to be closer. You want to be all over her.

“So, why did you decide to make a move on me today?” You wonder aloud.

Wanda nearly chokes on her drink. “I guess I just- I have been thinking about you for a while.”

“Oh yeah?”

She nods. You set your glass down on the table.

“What have you been thinking about specifically?”

“Um- kissing you,” she says quietly.

You smirk at that. You’ve imagined too what it would feel like to press your lips to hers and run your hands through her hair.

“Wanda,” you say. “Come here.”

You pull her closer to you by the back of her neck and connect your lips. You kiss her hard. Wanda takes a second to catch up, but once she does she settles in.

Her lips part in a gasp and you take full advantage. You deepen the kiss, pushing Wanda back to lie on the couch. You straddle her.

“Y/n,” she mumbles when you move your lips to her neck.

“Relax, baby. Let me make you feel good,” you say.

You move your hands under her shirt and lift the material over her head. You have to withhold a growl at the sight of her bare chest. She’s perfect.

You take one breast in your hand and the other in your mouth. Wanda squirms at the feeling of your mouth on her nipple.

“Oh god,” Wanda groans.

You take off her pants and slip her panties down her legs. She’s dripping wet. You move closer to her pussy, but don’t quite dive in yet.

“Did you imagine this, Mrs. Maximoff? Being all spread out for me?”

“Yes,” she says. “Yes, baby, I did.”

“Fuck yes you did,” you say.

You bury your face between her legs, licking through her folds. You hold her waist down as you eat her out. Wanda keeps her hand on your head as you bring her to her high.

“I’m going to come,” Wanda says through bated breaths. “Fuck.”

“Come for me, Mrs. Maximoff,” you say against her.

The words and the way you’re making her feel so good makes her come in no time.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” you say. “So good.”

You move from between her legs and Wanda sits up on the couch. She smiles at you lazily and you kiss her softly.

“Shit, it’s 7:45,” Wanda says. “The boys will be home anytime.”

“That’s okay,” you say. You’re wearing a goofy grin. All you wanted was to taste her and you got to do just that.

“But I didn’t get to- you didn’t get to feel as good as I do,” Wanda pouts. You think it’s the cutest thing in the world.

“Hey, that’s alright. Another time? Call me later?” You ask her.

“Oh, yes. I will,” she replies.

You stand up but kiss her once more before you leave. You kiss her in a way that leaves her wanting you more than ever before.

Wanda is definitely looking forward to being with you again. She’s glad she fell for you.

[rose24207]

Beta Squad Bake-Off ft. Lando Norris

Summary: Lando joins the Beta Squad's chaotic baking challenge, where his undeniable chemistry with Y/N leaves everyone questioning who’s simping for whom.

Genre: Humor, fluff

TW: filly (?)

A/N: here’s part 2! English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy is though! Requests are open and welcome!

P1

Masterlist

The Beta Squad kitchen was alive with its usual chaos, the air thick with flour, anticipation, and the distinct smell of impending disaster. The guys were already hyped, buzzing about today’s guest. But for you, today was different. Today was everything.

Lando Norris—Formula 1 star, recent Beta Squad collab, and your not-so-secret crush—was back. And this time, he’d been paired with you for a baking challenge. The same Lando who’d slid into your DMs after your shameless video antics. The same Lando you’d been texting ever since. The same Lando who made your stomach flip every time he popped into your notifications.

You’d convinced yourself it was purely platonic. You had to. But deep down, you knew better.

“Alright, people!” Chunkz clapped his hands as the cameras started rolling. “Today’s challenge is simple: bake a cake. But since this is us, expect flour fights, questionable skills, and maybe a burnt kitchen.”

“Speak for yourself,” Sharky said, adjusting his apron. “I’m going for Gordon Ramsay levels today.”

“Mate, you can’t even boil water without setting off the fire alarm,” AJ shot back.

You were trying to focus, but when Lando walked into the room, all coherent thought left your brain.

Dressed casually in jeans and a black hoodie, his hair slightly tousled, he looked effortlessly cool. He greeted everyone with that signature grin, but when his eyes landed on you, his smile widened.

“Y/N,” he said, his tone teasing. “Ready to redeem yourself after that McLaren trivia fail?”

You felt your cheeks heat instantly. “Listen, Norris,” you shot back, trying to sound confident, “I’m not just good at baking—I’m amazing at it. You’re lucky you’re on my team.”

“Oh, am I?” he teased, leaning against the counter.

The guys immediately picked up on the energy.

“Oi, this is suspicious,” Kenny said, narrowing his eyes at you two. “Why does it feel like they’ve been texting?”

“We have not!” you said quickly, too quickly.

Chunkz raised an eyebrow. “That was defensive.”

“Focus on your own cake, Chunkz,” you muttered, trying to ignore the laughter.

The challenge began, and you took charge immediately.

“Okay, we’re doing a chocolate cake with salted caramel frosting,” you announced, pulling out ingredients. “Lando, start melting the chocolate.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, saluting you with a cheeky grin.

As you worked, the chemistry between you and Lando became impossible to ignore. He followed your instructions diligently, but not without slipping in the occasional flirtatious comment.

“You’re surprisingly good at this,” you said, watching as he carefully measured out sugar.

“I’m full of surprises,” he replied, his tone light but his eyes lingering on you just a second too long.

Across the room, the guys were losing their minds.

“Why is it so... flirty over there?” Niko called out, pointing a whisk at you two.

“Because Y/N can’t control herself,” Sharky said, grinning.

“Excuse me?” you shot back, turning to face them. “I am nothing but professional.”

“Professional simp,” AJ muttered, earning a round of laughter.

Lando smirked, leaning closer to you. “Is this what it’s always like with them?”

“Always,” you said, shaking your head. “But don’t worry, I’m used to it.”

“Good,” he said, his voice dropping slightly. “Because I’m not planning on going easy on you, either.”

You froze for a second, his words sending a jolt of electricity through you.

As the baking continued, the banter escalated.

“Lando, do you know how many times Y/N’s mentioned you in our videos?” Filly asked loudly, his voice full of mischief.

“Filly,” you warned, glaring at him.

“Oh, I need to hear this,” Lando said, turning to you with a raised eyebrow. “How many times, Y/N?”

“Don’t listen to him,” you said quickly.

“It’s gotta be at least 20,” Sharky chimed in.

“More like 50,” AJ added.

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “You’re all the worst.”

Lando laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m flattered, really. But now the pressure’s on—I can’t let you down.”

“You’d better not,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

When it came time to decorate, the chaos reached its peak.

“Why does this look like a murder scene?” Kenny asked, gesturing to Sharky and Niko’s station, where frosting was smeared everywhere.

“Because they don’t know what they’re doing,” you said smugly, putting the finishing touches on your cake.

Your cake was, admittedly, a masterpiece: a perfectly frosted chocolate layer cake drizzled with caramel and topped with edible gold flakes.

“This is... unfair,” Chunkz said, staring at your creation. “How are you two so good at this?”

“Because Y/N’s secretly a professional,” Lando said, stepping back to admire the cake. Then, with a sly grin, he added, “And because I’m great at following instructions.”

“You’re great at everything, aren’t you?” you said without thinking, immediately realizing how it sounded.

The room went silent for a beat before Filly burst out laughing.

“She’s not even hiding it anymore!” he shouted.

You groaned, hiding your face in your hands as the guys erupted into chaos.

When the video finally wrapped, the crew began cleaning up, and the squad fell into their usual post-filming banter. You were wiping down the counter when Lando walked up beside you, holding a slice of your cake.

“Want a bite?” he asked, offering you the fork.

You hesitated for a moment before taking it. “Not bad,” you said, grinning. “Maybe you’re not completely useless in the kitchen.”

“High praise,” he said, his tone light but his eyes serious.

For a moment, the chaos around you faded, and it was just the two of you.

“You’re good at this,” he said softly, gesturing around the kitchen.

“Baking?” you asked, confused.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “This. Making people laugh. Bringing everyone together.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Thanks,” you said quietly.

He smiled, his gaze lingering on you. “I’m glad I came today.”

“Me too,” you said, trying not to sound too eager.

Before the moment could get too heavy, Filly’s voice rang out. “Oi, Norris! Stop flirting and help us clean up!”

Lando laughed, stepping back. “Duty calls,” he said, winking at you before walking away.

As you watched him go, you couldn’t help but smile. Because for once, it felt like maybe, just maybe, your shameless simping was leading somewhere real.

Thank you for reading!

For: @ejamo

[redvexillum]

TAGS/WARNINGS: f!reader, assistant!reader, established relationship, whipped!vox, romantic!vox, soft!vox, p in v, teasing, couple's spat, vox is a simp for reader, reader is equally a simp for vox, tooth rotting fluff, soft s♡x/lovemaking, love confessions

WORD COUNT: 9.7K~

SPECIAL MENTION: @nyx91 (my wife and fellow VoxTek Server cult member), your request has been heard. This is set in Mandatory Overtime Universe, but it's not necessary to read to enjoy this.

The steady hum of your computer filled the quiet room, accompanied only by the relentless clatter of your fingers against the keyboard. For the last two weeks, this had been your soundtrack–a constant rhythm of work fuelled by the rash decision of your boss. Vox, the “TV-headed idiot” as you had come to call him in your mind recently, had once again made a public promise he had no intention of planning for. 

His latest brainchild? 

The VPhone 78, with a supposedly revolutionary features that would allow the phone to fly and follow its users like his countless drones buzzing throughout Hell.  

Of course, the moment he’d announced this absurd concept during an interview, VoxTek’s stocks had soared by 112%. But now, it was your problem. As his top – well, only – personal assistant with your soul still belonging to you, you were stuck trying to work out how on Earth (or Hell, rather) you’d manage to make this ridiculous idea of his both cost-effective and functional.  

You leaned back in your chair, eyes unfocused as numbers swirled around in your mind like tormenting demons. The paperwork was starting to blur together. You sighed heavily, tipping your head back to stare at the ceiling, fingers massaging the bridge of your nose.  

“Vox, you idiot,” you muttered under your breath.  

Publicly, you were nothing more than his right-hand assistant. But behind closed door…that was a different story. Vox took you on what he called “business dinners,” though they were anything but professional. Somewhere along the way, those dinners had turned into more. One heated night led to countless others, and now, 66 years later, the two of you were still locked in this strange, undefined relationship. A weekly ritual of casual intimacy, wrapped in secrecy and masked by your professional titles.  

It had started as a way to blow off steam, and you would never admit to yourself that your feelings for Vox had been anything but carnal. But now, the years had piled up, and you were still tangled up in each other. Your ambition to climb the corporate ladder had gotten complicated; it was messy, with unspoken emotions lurking beneath the surface.  

You groaned, still staring at the ceiling when a soft knock at the door broke through your thoughts.  

“Come in,” you croaked, your voice hoarse from lack of sleep.  

The door creaked open to reveal Papermint, one of Vox’s many errand boys – slender, nervous, and constantly fidgeting. His blue hair and one cyan eye reflected the neon lights of the company, a clear sign that his soul was tethered to Vox’s control. You gave him a tired smile as he shuffled in, looking uncomfortable as always.  

“Papermint,” you said, leaning forward, elbows propped on the mess of papers on your desk. “What does he want now?” 

Papermint adjusted his thin glasses, looking anywhere but at you. “Well, boss wanted–” 

You cut him off with a raised hand. “Let me guess. I’m supposed to put on my VWatch because Vox has something extremely important to tell me, but it’s confidential, so he won’t bother telling you?” You threw in a mocking air quotes around the word “confidential.” 

Papermint’s face lit up with relief as he nodded eagerly. “Yeah, that’s exactly it! He’s been on edge…kind of…” he quickly looked around your room, looking for any cameras as Vox always made sure he was watching and listening in everywhere, “you know…” Papermint mumbled, unwilling to take a chance of getting killed for badmouthing the boss.  

You snorted. Typical. Vox’s moods were as volatile as Hell’s weather, and apparently, he had been taking it out on his employees. You were the only one left who could handle him, and even that was debatable. Most, if not all, of his staff had their souls bound to his contracts, but not you. You had sighed a regular employment contract, meaning if you wanted to walk out of this building, you could do so without losing a single shred of your soul.  

You shuffled the papers on your desk, trying to look busy. “I failed to see how that’s my problem, Papermint.” 

His face fell, the colour draining from his cheeks. “Please, Sunshine–” 

You narrowed your eyes. “Not my name.” 

Papermint blinked. “Oh, sorry! I thought that’s what boss called you.” 

“He calls me a lot of things,” you said, rising from your chair. “None of them are relevant.”  

Without another word, you strode past Papermint, your steps purposeful as you left your office. The nickname sunshinehas recently irked you, though lately, you noticed your anger toward it had started to wane. Maybe it was the fact that despite everything, your heart still softened every time you thought of his stupid TV head.  

You found yourself standing outside Vox’s office door without even realizing how quickly you’d gotten there. You cursed under your breath. You were supposed to be angry at him. Frustrated, really. Instead, warmth was blooming in your chest, softening the hard lines of your frown.  

Damn it. Why were you such a softie? 

Without knocking, you pushed open the door and entered his office. The long bridge to his desk, surrounded by a dizzying drop into nothingness, stretched before you like a stage, a visual testament to his need for drama. Vox sat in his grand chair, spinning lazily toward you. His grin was wide, but strained.  

“Ah, Sunshine!” He greeted, his voice edged with nervousness. “Finally decided to show up after, what, twelve days? But hey, who’s counting?” 

You crossed your arms, not dignifying his teasing with a response. Instead, you stared at him, waiting.  

Vox stood up from his desk, his sharp grin widening as his arms stretched out for a hug, his usual smoothness faltering as he made his attempt. You stood unmoving, watching his hands hover awkwardly before he dropped them, clearing his throat with forced nonchalance.  

“Sunshine, I know I said I’d talk to Val about your department store debacle, but–” Vox’s eyes darted toward the corner of the room, hands making small circles as if searching for the right words. “Val can be a bit…tricky.” 

Your jaw tightened. That department store had been your baby – your crown jewel, meant to cement your name in Hell’s ruthless business world. Nine years of gruelling work, settling deals, managing turf wars, negotiating with gangs. Nine years of sacrifice to finally build what was supposed to be yours – with Vox having a mere 25% stake. But that vision had turned into ash and rubble when Valentino decided to “celebrate” your grand opening day with hookers, drugs, and a sleazy entourage. In less than three hours, your hard-earned dream was trashed, half of the building collapsing under the weight of his destructive party.  

And Vox’s response? A dismissive, “That’s just Val being Val.”

You crossed your arms tightly across your chest, one hip jutting out in defiance. “Oh, don’t worry about it, boss,” you spat, the word dripping with sarcasm. “It only took me nine years, eight months, and thirteen days, plus half a billion dollars of my own savings, to build that dream. And it was all blow to hell in three hours! But hey–who’s counting?” 

The muscles in Vox’s neck twitched as his shoulders hiked higher. You could see the tension in his rigid frame, but it wasn’t enough to quell the rage simmering inside you. Time meant little in Hell. Rebuilding wasn’t a big issue either now that the Princess of Hell put an end to the bi-yearly exterminations. And sure, Vox had reimbursed your expenses and offered to buy you a new property to rebuild, but that wasn’t what you wanted.  

What you really wanted was for Vox to finally stand up to Valentino. To sever ties, cut him out of the alliance, and show some backbone for once.  

But it was never that simple.  

Hell’s power structure was a delicate balance, and the Vees were stronger united. Valentino brought numbers, influence, and raw power to the table, attributes too valuable for Vox to dismiss. And what did you bring? 

Competence as his personal assistant. 

A warm body to cuddle with when he felt like it.  

The room buzzed with tension, both of you fully aware that this issue was one of many knots in your tangled relationship. You inhaled deeply, forcing yourself to let go of some of the anger bubbling beneath your skin. It wasn’t worth a blow-up–not now. 

“So, what did you call me up here for, Vox?” You asked, your tone softer than before, though you hated how much his name on your lips seemed to brighten his eyes.  

Vox’s smile returned, wider this time, though you could still see the underlying tension in his expression. “Well, it’s our annual company trip, and…” he hesitated, his grin becoming strained as his brows knitted slightly. “It’s mandatory for you to attend!” His tone was too chipper, a veil over the fact that he feared your refusal.  

You rolled your eyes, a huff escaping your lips. “You mean the annual company trip where it’s just the two of us, and we end up fucking?” 

As you talked, Vox took that time to finally circle his arms around you. You felt your resolve crumble and your anger melting away. You cursed inwardly at how easily your body responded to him, your head naturally finding its place against his shoulder as he swayed you gently in his embrace. It was ridiculous, really – how he could have you melting with just a touch, even after all the frustration, all the fights.  

“What?” He laughed nervously, his voice a little higher than usual. “I told you, everyone always cancels last minute! I mean, I do dock their pay, but still–” His words trailed off as his fingers tensed against your body.  

The lie was as obvious as the flickering pixels on Vox’s face, and you couldn’t help but giggle. It was the kind of silliness that made your chest light, your laughter bubbling up uncontrollably. Pressing your lips against his shoulder, you tried to muffle the sound, but your body shook with mirth anyway.  

Vox sighed softly above you, the rumble of it felt through his chest as he held you tightly. He never made it a secret how much he loved hearing your laughter, the sound always brightening the static on his face and smoothing his sharp edges.  

You felt the faint warmth of his screen pressed against the top of your head as he leaned down to place a light kiss there, his grip tightening ever so slightly around you. And at that moment, you knew undoubtedly that you were going to attend his annual company trip, regardless of how mandatory it was. After all, you attended all the previous so-called company trips.  

“So, is it tomorrow?” You asked, voice softened with the quiet acceptance of his unspoken plea.  

“Tomorrow,” he confirmed, his fingers tracing a slow, deliberate line down the centre of your spine. The touch was comforting, intimate, making you sigh in a way that spoke of years of familiarity. His fingers lingered at your lower back as he let out a wistful breath, as if savouring the moment.  

“Are you going to let me go?” You teased, your lips quirking into a smile as you glanced up at him. “I still need to figure out how to implement your so-called flying technology onto all the latest VPhones,” you added with a roll of your eyes, knowing you were slipping back into work mode.  

“Just make our drones into cellphones and call it a day,” he remarked casually, his tone almost lazy.  

You jerked away from him, eyes wide in disbelief. “Excuse me?” You screeched, shifting instantly from playful lover to his professional assistant. “Do tell me how you think that’s remotely possible with all the–“ 

The words spilled out of you in a sharp, impassioned rant. Vox’s gaze never left yours, but his gentle smile and softness in his eyes betrayed his true thoughts. He wasn’t listening to the words. He was listening to you, and that subtle, almost imperceptible affection made your heart squeeze in ways you tried not to think about.  

The next day, you stood outside VoxTek Aquarium, the warm hellish air brushing against your legs as your loose white dress swayed gently with the breeze. The plunging v-neckline gave the soft fabric an elegant flow, but the empty street surrounding the aquarium was unsettling. The eerie silence was in stark contrast to the usual bustle, the crowds that typically lined up for hours on end nowhere to be seen.  

As you approached the doors, a small sign with different shades of blue balloons swaying side by side caught your eyes.

The sign read: Our 66th Anniversary, with a giant heart drawn right below it.  

A giggle escaped your lips before you could stop it. Vox was nothing if not sentimental in his own peculiar way. Every year, without fail, he celebrated your work anniversary with him, marking the occasion as if it were something sacred. You never fully understood it, but there was something about his dedication to it that made you feel warm inside, giddy even. He made you feel seen–like your time, your presence, mattered in a way no one else had ever made you feel.  

As you stepped inside the aquarium, your eyes widened in awe. The large cylindrical tank at the centre dominated the room, a towering presence that rose as tall as a seven-story building. Inside, Vox’s prized hammerhead shark swam lazily, its glowing blue patterns casting an eerie light through the water. The sheer size of it made your stomach flip with unease.  

“Sunshine!” Vox’s voice rang out, cutting through the silence.  

You turned to see him approaching in navy-blue swim trunks, his grin wide and boyish despite his usual cool exterior. Before you could say a word, he closed the distance between you and capture your lips with his own. The kiss was soft at first, tender, but soon his tongue teased the seam of your lips, asking for entrance.  

You hummed appreciatively, parting your mouth and letting him explore. His hips pressed against you, a faint grind that had heat pooling low in your belly as his cock strained against the fabric of his swim trunks.  

When he finally pulled away, his breath came in short gasps, his grin widening just slightly. His chest rose and fell, and your eyes drifted downward to the obvious tenting in his trunks. A sultry smile curved your lips as you reached down, fingers grazing his swollen balls through the thin material. A sharp hiss escaped his lips, his body trembling at your touch.  

“Want me to take care of you?” You whispered, your breath ghosting over his neck. “A little preview of what’s to come tonight?” 

A shudder passed through him, micro-glitches cracking across his face as his control slipped for just a moment. “Yes,” he rasped, before quickly pulling back, his eyes wide. “Wait, no. I mean, yes, I want you, but – no?” His sheepish laugh filled the space between you, his words tripping over themselves in his embarrassment.  

Vox cleared his throat awkwardly, shifting his hardened length to lie flat against his stomach, the cyan-blue tip of his cock barely peeking above the waistband of his swim trunks. It was a curious sight – normally, Vox was quick to pull you into bed the moment the mood struck. But today, something about his hesitation had you intrigued. With a cocky grin, you tugged your dress over your head, letting the fabric fall at your feet.  

The moment Vox’s gaze locked onto you, a sense of triumph swelled inside. His eyes roamed your figure, darkening with unmistakable hunger. You’d worn his favourite styled swimwear – a scandalous string bikini that left nothing to the imagination. The thin strip of cloth barely covered your front, your ass completely bare, while the triangles barely held your breasts, your nipples perked and straining against the fabric.  

You knew exactly what kind of effect this would have on him, especially since one of the triangles sported the VoxTek logo, a personal touch that always drove him wild.  

“O-oh wow,” Vox croaked, his voice hoarse with desire. “You look–” 

“Well then,” you interrupted with a playful smirk, “shall we get started on the itinerary of our company trip, Mr. Vox?” You emphasized his title with a cheeky grin, pretending to fall into your role as his dutiful assistant. “I was this close to derailing your whole plan with a blowjob. But luckily, you, the ever-dutiful CEO, will keep us on track, right?” You batted your eyelashes.  

Vox’s pixels flickered, and a cascade of blue sparks arced down his body, his circuits clearly struggling to keep up with the sight before him. His head jerked slightly to the side as he attempted to regain control, the telltale glitch that always happened when you managed to short-circuit him. 

You gave him a moment to compose himself, but the growing bulge in his trunks told you everything you needed to know. He was far from calm, and a mischievous spark lit in your chest. Today was going to be fun – a day of teasing, of pushing him until he finally snapped, losing control the way he always did before bending you over and fucking you raw. The thought alone sent heat pooling low in your belly, your thighs pressing together as your arousal stirred.  

Vox cleared his throat again, his hand moving to cover the obvious bulge straining against his swim trunks. “Ri-right,” he stammered, swallowing thickly. “I-I may take you up on that offer…later, if you don’t mind,” he added with a sheepish grin, his words still tripping over themselves. “But first, I want to start our annual event with this.” 

He reached into a pocket and pulled out a navy blue velvet box. The sight of it made your breath hitch, but you quickly covered it with a teasing smile.  

“Please don’t tell me it’s the latest VWatch,” you joked, shaking your head. Your lips stretched into a wide grin, though your pulse quickened with curiosity. Vox had made a habit of calling these little trips “company events,” a roundabout way of spending the day with you outside of work without having to define your relationship as more than colleagues. Still, you humoured him, always indulging in the fiction he created to spend more time with you…because deep down, you enjoyed these moments too.  

You opened the box, expecting something practical or silly, but what you saw instead made you freeze. Inside was a delicate ring, the centrepiece a clear gem with a crackle of blue electricity coursing through it. It shimmered in the low light, casting a faint glow that danced across your skin.  

Your fingers trembled as you reached for it. “Wh-what is this?” You asked, voice barely above a whisper, your mind swirling with unspoken thoughts.  

Vox rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, his usual confidence faltering. “It’s…kind of an inside joke?” He began, his tone uncertain. “You’re practically married to me–well, to your work, which is my company, and everyone already calls you my wife – I mean work wife. So, I figured…why not give my work wife a ring?” 

Your head spun as his words sank in. Vox had never been good at hiding his feelings when it came to you. He could sugarcoat it all he wanted, categorize it as a joke, but the truth was clear. This wasn’t just about work anymore. He wanted more, something real, something official. And for someone like him – one of the most powerful Overlords – the implications were monumental.  

“Here, let me do the honours,” he whispered, his voice soft, almost reverent. He gently took the ring from your hand and slid it onto your left ring finger with a surprising amount of tenderness. His touch sent a jolt of warmth up your arm, the electricity from the ring almost pulsing in time with your heartbeat.  

Your cheeks heated, a rush of emotions making your heart flutter wildly in your chest. You weren’t stupid – you knew exactly what this gesture meant, even if Vox tried to play it off as something less. You’d been at his side for so long, spending nearly every waking moment with him, in and out of work. He’d given you his time, his attention, his affection, and even a miniature shark that now lived in his tank, a shared responsibility between the two of you. In every way that mattered, you had already given him your heart and soul, figuratively speaking. 

Yet, there was no official label for what you were. And the thought of finally defining it –finally putting a name to what you had– suddenly felt terrifying.  

“It’s pretty,” you mumbled, unsure of what else to say.  

Vox’s throat clearing pulled you from your thoughts. You glanced up, drawn by the sight of him lifting his hand, showing off a silver band wrapped snugly around his finger. A thin streak of blue lightening shimmered though it, alive and pulsating like electricity caught in time. The realization hit you harder than expected, like a ripple expanding through your chest.  

“You really took this ‘work wife’ thing seriously, huh?” You joked, though your voice came out softer than intended. You wanted to brush it off, make it seem like this was just another playful gesture between the two of you, but the warmth flooding your cheeks betrayed you. The ring on your own finger caught your eye again, the delicate glow of the blue crackling electricity inside it casting soft shadows on your skin. Your thumb traced the cool surface absentmindedly, a silly grin tugging at your lips.  

It was beautiful. Far more than a simple token or inside joke, and best of all, the way it sat on your finger felt…right.  

'It wouldn’t hurt to wear it a little longer,' you thought, trying to reason with yourself. The soft thrum of excitement beneath your skin told you that you weren’t fooling anyone, least of all yourself.  

“Take it as a…a…” Vox’s voice pulled your focus back to him. His eyes flickered around the room, clearly searching for the right words. “A party favour?” 

“A party favour?” You repeated, raising an eyebrow at the absurdity of the idea.  

“You know, like when you go to a party, and they give guests gifts.” His words hung awkwardly in the air, but there was something endearing about his uncertainty.  

Laughter burst from your lips, breaking the tension. The idea that the two of you could continue dancing around the deeper meaning behind this moment was almost too much. Before you could stop yourself, you wrapped your arms around him, pressing your body to his and placing a soft kiss on his cheek. The faint static of his skin sent a pleasant tingle across your lips, making them buzz.  

“Thank you for the…party favour,” you teased, arching a brown in amusement.  

Vox’s expression shifted, his lips parting as if to say more, something important, but instead, he blurted, “Swimming!” 

“Swimming?” You repeated, thrown by the sudden shift.  

“Remember?” His hands settled firmly on your hips, warm and steady. “You told me last month that you missed swimming in the ocean, back when you were alive.” His voice softened with a touch of excitement. “So, why not swim with the sharks! They’re remarkable – such sweethearts! You can even ride them if you'd like!” He grinned, twirling you around to face the massive tank behind you, where a shadowy figure swam lazily, its sleek form curving through the water.  

Your breath caught in your throat as the shark’s jagged teeth flashed, even with its mouth barely parted. The sheer size of it, the raw power, sent a nervous shiver down your spine. You instinctively pressed your back against Vox’s solid chest, trying to ease your growing apprehension.  

“Are you sure they won’t…eat me?” You glanced back at him, voice a little higher than usual. “I mean, don’t you feed them sinners?” 

Vox chuckled, the sound rumbling pleasantly through you as he grabbed your hands, guiding you toward a different section of the building. “Oh, doll, don’t worry. I’ve got you,” he promised, his voice low and reassuring. “I won’t let anything happen to you. You’re going to love it. In fact, you’ll be begging me to do this every year.” 

His enthusiasm was contagious. You bit down on the inside of your cheek, trying to stifle the giggle that bubbled up. Vox, with his wide-eyed excitement, reminded you of a kid in a candy store, his usual Overlord bravado replaced with something innocent, almost boyish. It was…cute.  

Vox was cute in your eyes. The thought warmed you from within, spreading like a gentle heat through your chest.  

When he finally opened a door at the far end of the west wing, the familiar scent of salt water filled your nose, and your eyes widened in disbelief. The room was bathed in soft blue light, the walls painted to resemble the sky, with fluffy clouds hovering lazily in each corner. A layer of fine, tan sand stretched across the floor, inviting and warm beneath your feet. You could hear the rhythmic sound of waves crashing from speakers hidden away, and though it was artificial, it tugged something deep within you, a nostalgic ache for the ocean.  

“Oh my God,” you breathed, stepping slowly into the room. You kicked off your sandals, your toes sinking into the warm sand. It was soft, like velvet, slipping between your toes in a way that made your heart flutter with joy. “How did you–where did you…?” 

“Connections, baby!” Vox’s voice was filled with pride, his grin wide and playful as he watched you marvel at the scene. He stood there, his head tilted slightly upward as if basking in your approval, and it made you want to laugh all over again.  

The water before you was crystal clear, so transparent you could see every detail of the sharks circling lazily beneath the surface. Despite their fearsome appearance, they glided through the water with an almost serene grace, their bodies cutting through the waves like shadows.  

“Here you go,” Vox’s voice was warm, almost playful, as he stood beside you, handing over a snorkeling set. His rectangular goggles gleamed with neon blue around the edges, clunky and absurd on his face, especially given that they included a space for a nose, which he quite literally didn’t have.  

You bit back a laugh as you took the goggles from him. “Do you seriously need goggles?” You asked, snapping the rubber band behind your head as you put yours on. The cool plastic of the mask pressed against your skin, the sensation slightly jarring as it sealed itself. Your fingers traced the strange snorkel setup, noticing the hole at the end of the tube was sealed off, and instead, a tiny device was attached to the mouthpiece.  

Vox, apparently catching the confusion in your expression, gestured grandly. “First of all, these goggles look fantastic on me,” he said with a wide grin. “Second, this snorkel is VoxTek’s latest innovation! Oxygen is stored in that tiny little case – no need for bulky tanks!” 

You hummed in mild surprise, examining the sleek design. “They why do we need this part?” You asked, pointing to the unnecessary tube extending from the mouthpiece.  

With a casual shrug, he replied, “Purely for the aesthetic. People love snapping pictures while they swim with the fishes, and nothing says ‘authentic’ like classic snorkel.” 

You laughed, the sound bubbling up easily as Vox took your hand, pulling you closer to the edge of the water. His grin widened, a mischievous spark lighting up in his eyes. “Ready for a great family fun adventures?” He declared, his tone almost too polished.  

Bursting into laughter again, you teased, “Vox, are you using one of your pre-recorded lines on me?” 

He groaned, rolling his eyes. “Ugh, you caught me. I had to rehearse that line like, 800 times. I’m still deleting the voice clips from my main database,” his blue talon clacked against the side of his head.  

Your laughter softened into a chuckle, but the smile faded slightly as your gaze shifted toward the water. Two massive sharks glided slowly just beneath the surface. You squeezed Vox’s hand instinctively. “You’re sure I’m not going to end up shark bait, right? I’d really rather not wake up in the Badlands once my body reforms.” 

Vox tutted, his grin turning wicked as his right eye flickered with a spiralling hypnotic circles. “You have so little faith,” he purred, his voice a low electric hum. “They wouldn’t dare attack their master – or his guests.” His eyes sparked with electricity, crackling with a dangerous gleam. “They’d regret it very much.” 

You raised a brow, lips twitching with amusement. “I thought you liked these guys.” 

“I do,” he said, his face shifting back to that cherub-like smile you found oddly endearing. “Now come on, trust me – you won’t regret it!” With a playful tug, he pulled you toward the water’s edge.  

As you took a hesitant step closer, you glanced up at him. “Can you even swim? You’re not going to short-circuit on me, are you?” 

Vox shot a smug, shit-eating grin, his hand firm on your wrist as he dragged you in. “I’m waterproof, sunshine.” Before you could react, he yanked you into the water.  

You hit the surface with a splash, salt water flooding your mouth as you gasped in surprise. The cold shock of it stung your skin, the salty taste lingering on your tongue as you coughed, trying to clear your lungs. “Vox!” You sputtered, your voice cracking as you shivered from the sudden chill. But even in the cold, his arms wrapped around your waist, his body warm and solid against yours as he treaded water for the both of you. Droplets ran down his monitor-like face, glistening in the faint light, and you couldn’t help but think, well, I’ll be damned. He really is waterproof. 

“Come on!” Vox’s grin remained unshaken as he gestured toward the snorkel. “Put it on, and I’ll give you the grand tour!” 

Rolling your eyes, but unable to resist the infectious energy in his voice, you placed the mouthpiece between your lips. The soft rush of oxygen flowed in, steady and calming. With a surprisingly graceful dive, Vox plunged into the water, still gripping your hand. You followed, the water closing over your head as you descended into the aquarium depths.  

True to his word, the sharks swam around you like silent sentinels, their movements smooth and controlled. They didn’t open their jaws, just glided alongside you as if you were one of them. Their skin, slick and smooth, brushed against you now and again, almost like the nudge of a curious cat. Their gills shimmered with a faint blue glow, and their eyes, deep crimson, glinted like rubies of sunken treasures.  

Vox, with the grace of a dolphin – albeit a dolphin with a television for a head – gently ran his hand along the hammerhead shark’s back, his fingers trailing against its smooth surface as it swam in slow circles around you. He shot you a grin, his eyes glowing with that familiar red swirl, and tilted his head toward the shark, encouraging you to touch it.  

Gulping, you hesitantly reached out. To your surprise, the shark swam closer, allowing your fingers to graze its skin. It felt almost velvety, smooth in a way you didn’t expect. You ran your hand along its side, marvelling at the control Vox had over these creatures – Hell sharks, of all things.  

With a quick tug, Vox pulled you against him, his grip firm on your waist. His eyes gleamed red again, and you noticed the same hypnotic swirl reflected in the sharks’ eyes. He was controlling them, his power threading through the water, binding them to his will.  

The hammerhead drifted near, and Vox grabbed onto its dorsal fin with one hand, the other keeping you close. As the shark began to swim with purpose, you felt the rush of water against your body, the pressure building as you held on to Vox. Your arms wrapped around his neck, and together, you glided through a series of underwater tubes, each segment revealing different themes – lost treasure, pirate ships, tropical islands.  

The aquarium was vast, much larger than you’d imagined, and with every twist and turn, you found yourself more amazed. The sea creatures scattered as you passed, their forms darting away in colourful flashes, leaving trails of bubbles in your wake.  

Vox hadn’t been lying. As the thrill of the ride continued, you began to think that you’d want to do this again next year.  

Eventually, the shark slowed, the water warming around you. Vox released the shark, and it swam away, its massive body blending into the shadows. He pulled you toward the surface, and as you broke through the water, your eyes widened in astonishment.  

The soft glow of aquamarine light bathed the small enclosure, making the water shimmer like liquid gemstones. The rocky cave walls were draped with delicate strings of fairy lights, casting a soft, ethereal glow, like stars twinkling in the midnight sky. It felt secluded, intimate, as though the world outside had vanished, leaving only the two of you in this perfect, private paradise.  

“Come here, baby doll,” Vox’s voice was a low murmur, filled with warmth and a tenderness that never failed to make your heart flutter. He began to swim toward the shore, the water rippling gently around him as he moved. The sandy floor beneath sloped gradually, mimicking a beach, and you followed him, shivering from the cool air as the water dripped down from your body. 

You removed your goggles and snorkel, setting them aside before wrapping your arms around yourself, trying to preserve whatever warmth you had left. Before you could process the chill, a soft fluffy towel enveloped you, and Vox’s arm circled around your shoulders, pulling you against him. The warmth of his body seeped into yours, a comforting contrast to the cold. Your face nestled into the crook of his neck, breathing in the subtle mix of sea salt and remnants of his sharp cologne. His hand rested gently on the back of your head, holding you close, as if you were the most precious thing in the world.  

The sound of the artificial waves lapping at the shore echoed softly in the cave, blending with the quiet rhythm of your heartbeat. Neither of you spoke, content in the silence, your bodies pressed close as you shared this perfect moment. It struck you just how romantic Vox had always been during these company trips. Every year, he found new ways to make you feel cherished, loved in a way that filled your heart with warmth.  

You sighed softly, wrapping your arms around his waist and holding him tighter. His presence, his warmth, his scent – if all filled you with a deep sense of peace. You breathed him in, the familiar smell wrapping around you like a blanket, and you couldn’t help but smile. 

Every year, he never failed to make you feel like the most important person in his world.  

“Want me to order you a drink?” Vox whispered, his breaths warm against your scalp.  

You nuzzled closer to him, unwilling to break the moment. “Mhm, but I don’t mind staying like this,” you mumbled, your voice soft and content. “S’nice.” 

His chest rumbled with a deep chuckle, the sound vibrating through you. Vox had always said he loved your laughter, but you felt the same about his. It was rich, full of life, and it always made you smile.  

Reluctantly, he guided you over to a small round wooden table, pulling out a chair for you. You sank into it, the heavy blue towel still wrapped snugly around your shoulders. The scene was almost too picturesque – the shimmering water, the soft glow of the cave lights, the peaceful solitude of this hidden beach. “Are there any workers here?” You asked, your eyes scanning the serene beauty of the space.  

Vox smirked as he sat across from you, his monitor face lighting up as he pulled up a browser with a drink menu from Veebucks. “If you count my drones as workers, then yes,” he said with a shrug. “They’re the cheapest labour, after all.” 

“You mean free,” you quipped, watching with amusement as he tapped on the screen, ordering yours and his drink from the menu.  

“Same thing,” he muttered, his face returning to its usual charming grin.  

Silence fell over you again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. You soaked in the atmosphere, appreciating the care and thought he’d put into every detail. Vox reached across the table, his thumb brushing tenderly against the top of your hand, side to side in a slow affectionate gesture. “Happy anniversary, my brightest sunshine,” he murmured, his voice soft and sincere, his smile gentle.  

Before you could respond, a drone swooped overhead, placing two cups on the table. The rich, nutty aroma of hazelnut and coffee filled the air, and your heart swelled with a sudden, overwhelming warmth. It was the drink you’d been ordering almost every day lately, and you realized he’d been paying attention to even the smallest details about you. 

Reaching for the cup, you took a sip, closing your eyes as the familiar taste of chocolate and coffee spread across your tongue. The warmth of the drink seeped into your body, chasing away the last of the cold. You sighed in contentment. Vox took a sip from his own cup, and you couldn’t help but smile, amused still to this day how he managed to drink despite having a TV head.  

He scooted his chair closer to yours, and the proximity made your heart flutter. “After this, we could check out some of the restaurants,” Vox suggested, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. “Then we can walk through the different sections of the aquarium and maybe–” 

You listened, his voice washing over you like a soothing wave. Everything he planned revolved around spending time together, making sure you both enjoyed each other’s company. As you gazed down at the drink in your hands, your eyes drifted to the delicate ring on your left finger. It suddenly struck you – this wasn’t just any anniversary. It was your 66th work anniversary.  

For sixty-six years, he’d celebrated this day with you. Every single year, without fail.  

“Vox,” you interrupted softly, placing your cup down. “You know you don’t have to go to all this trouble for me.” A smile tugged at your lips. “Showing this much favouritism for a worker isn’t exactly great for morale – or your image.” 

Vox furrowed his brows, genuine confusion crossing his face. “What are you talking about?” He asked, tilting his head slightly.  

Now it was your turn to be confused. “I mean you don’t have to celebrate my work anniversary every year,” you said matter-of-factory. “Especially when you don’t even acknowledge your other worker’s anniversary.” 

Vox blinked once, then twice, before bursting into laughter. The sound was deep and raucous, filling the cave as he threw his head back. His chest shook, and his monitor flickered as he struggled to contain himself. “Oh, sunshine,” he said between laughs, “you thought we're celebrating your work anniversary all this tie?” 

In one smooth motion, he grabbed both your wrists, pulling you forward until you straddled his lap. His voice dropped to a low, dark whisper as his hands slid down your waist, pulling you closer. “My love,” he breathed, his eyes glinting with mischief, “I’ve been celebrating the day we first made love – every year.” 

Your muscles locked as your mind raced to catch up with his words. The truth hit you like a roaring tidal wave – you had slept with Vox, your boss, just before your contract was set to expire. That night had felt like the end, a one-time indulgence, but here you were, years later, warming his bed at least on a weekly basis. 

In hindsight, it wasn’t just your work anniversary you’d been celebrating each year with him. It was something much deeper, something more profound than a mere fling.  

Your heart pounded in your chest as you pieced it all together – every company trip, every time you ended up in his bed, his touch was always gentle, reverent, almost as if he were afraid you’d slip away. You had dismissed it as passion, fleeting and temporary. But for Vox, for him…it had been love. He saw it as making love to you.  

Slowly, your hand drifted down the side of his head, your new ring clinking softly against the hard surface. Each year, after every quiet, tender night together, Vox always whispered the same words.  

He always said… 

Vox’s smile softened, his claws grazing the back of your scalp before pulling you close, close enough that your breaths mingled. His voice was barely a whisper, and yet, it was all you could hear. “I love you, my brightest sunshine,” he murmured, before pressing a soft, chaste kiss to your lips.  

Your throat tightened, and you cursed the tears stinging the corners of your eyes. Damn it. You hadn’t expected to cry, hadn’t expected to feel this sudden rush of vulnerability. You blinked rapidly, hoping he’d chalk it up to the water from earlier, but when he pulled back, his eyes widened as he saw the tears spill freely.  

“Wh-what’s wrong?” Vox’s voice cracked, his panic clear, as though he couldn’t bear to see you hurting.  

And at that moment, you realized – it had always been you who assumed he couldn’t love you. That he wouldn’t.  

Without thinking, you pressed your forehead against his, your breath dancing with his. Then you kissed him –softly at first, a gentle peck, but the need, the desperation in your chest grew, and the next kiss was deeper. 

And the next one, longer. 

More urgent. 

Every kiss was a wordless apology for doubting him, for not seeing the depth of what had been right in front of you for all these years.  

You had always assumed this was nothing but a fleeting affair, a passion that would cool and fade with time. But the way Vox’s breath hitched in between your kisses, the way he groaned in response to your touch – it told you otherwise. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer, needing more of you, as if he could never get enough.  

“I wanted to –“ he began, voice low and hoarse, but you silenced him with another kiss, swallowing his words.  

He managed to gasp out, “–to show you the master suite…I decorated the bed for–” 

“Or,” you interrupted with a wicked smile, your voice a soft purr against his lips, “you could let me have a taste now.” 

You felt the answering throb of his cock, already hard and pressing insistently against your core, and your grin widened. “Looks like the other half agrees,” you teased, wiping the stray tears with your towel before letting it drop to the floor. Your skin felt feverish, flushed and burning with desire, every nerve alive with the need for him.  

“I even wore this,” you whispered, your voice dropping to a sultry murmur as you leaned in, “just for you, today.” Your words elicited another eager throb from his cock, and your breath hitched as the sensation sent shivers down your spine.  

“Ah, fuck,” Vox groaned, his hand slipping under the thin fabric of your bikini, fingers finding your hardened nipples. His touch was hot, electric, sending jolts of pleasure through you as he rolled your nipples between his fingers, slow and purposeful. You hissed, arching into him as he ground his clothed, wet, cock against your core, his eyes squeezed shut in pure, unfiltered bliss.  

“A taste,” he rasped, his voice thick with desire. “You want a taste now?” His breath came quicker as he lifted you effortlessly, laying you across the table in one swift motion. The drink clattered to the floor, the sound distant, irrelevant as his gaze darkened, locked onto you like a predator ready to devour its prey.  

Your hips teetered at the edge of the table, legs dangling loosely, toes barely brushing the sandy floor beneath. You heard the slick sound of Vox sliding off his bathing suit, the wet fabric hitting the ground in a damp heap. And then, there he was — his dark, navy shaft, gleaming with a faint blue glow at the tip, standing at full attention.  

“Oh, fuck, look at you,” he groaned, voice thick with desire. His hand gripped the base of his cock, a sharp gasp leaving his lips as he slapped the tip against your still-covered clit, sending jolts of pleasure radiating through you. “You know how much I fucking missed you when you didn’t come over last weekend,” he huffed, frustration laced in his voice as he hastily wrapped your legs around his waist. “My hands are nothing compared to yours,” he moaned, his hips lazily rolling against you, teasing, tormenting.  

You let out a soft, needy whimper as the swollen head of his cock nudged against your engorged clit. God, the sensation left you aching for more, desperate for the feel of him – bare, hard, and slick – sliding inside you. “More,” you moaned, voice trembling. As your hips shifted, chasing the pleasure that rippled through your body like a tidal wave.  

“I know, baby doll, I know,” Vox sighed, his voice deep and strained as his fingers skilfully tugged your bikini top aside. His eyes darkened with lust as he took in the sight of your nipples, stiff and begging for his touch. “Ah, fuck, yeah,” he muttered, and his long sinuous tongue slipped out, lapping eagerly at your left nipple. The broad, wet surface of his tongue dragged across the sensitive peak, nudging it up before it snapped back into place.  

A deep moan rumbled from him, long and lewd, as he finally pulled your bottoms free, the cool air kissing your bare skin for a brief moment before his thick, hot shaft pressed against your soaked folds. “Oh fuck, look how wet you are. Is that all for me?” he rasped, dragging the length of his cock through your slick folds, spreading your arousal along your lips as he teased your entrance.  

“Vox,” you whimpered, arching your back against the hard surface of the table. The pressure sent a delicious ache through you, but it was nothing compared to the way he lapped at your nipples, his tongue working over them like a man starved, desperate for every taste of you.  

With one hand, Vox steadied himself against the table, the weight of his and your body making the wood creak beneath you. The air between you sizzled with heat, your mingled breaths and the soft rhythmic sound of the waves filling the cave like music. His eyes locked onto yours, pupils turning into sharp slits with lust, and the heat of his cock at your entrance made your thighs tremble.  

Slowly, agonizingly slow, he pushed the tip of his cock inside you, stretching your entrance, inch by inch. You writhed beneath him, your body instinctively pulling him in deeper, the slick, tight walls of your cunt gripping him greedily.  

“Oh, fuck,” you whimpered, the stretch so deliciously deep that it made your toes curl, your back continued to arch off the table as he sank further inside. His thick cock filled you completely, stretching you open, reclaiming the space that had always been his. You whimpered as he inched closer to your favourite spot, so damn close you could almost feel the sparks waiting to ignite. “More, more,” You whined, the desperation in your voice palpable.  

“That’s right, doll,” he whispered, his other hand finding your nipple, now cool from his saliva. He pinched it, sending sharp jolts of pleasure and pain shooting straight to your core.  The sensation spiralled through your body, tingling, buzzing, settling deep in your belly as he sank fully into you, his hips flush against yours.  

He groaned, low and deep, his cock twitching inside you as he paused, his heavy balls resting against you. He didn’t move, didn’t thrust, just held you there, making sure you felt every inch of him, every throb, every pulse of how hard he was for you.  

Your legs trembled as you tried to keep them wrapped around his hips, your body humming with need as his fingers toyed with your nipple, tugging, pulling and twisting. You were both on the edge, the tension taut yet brittle, waiting to snap apart.  

Tears welled up in your eyes, but this time, for an entirely different reason. The longer Vox stayed deep inside you, the more you found yourself unravelling, desperate for him to take you completely, to fuck you until you lost all sense of self. His dark chuckle vibrated through the air, low and sinful. “Restless little thing, aren’t you,” he murmured, voice thick with amusement.  

Finally – finally – he pulled back, your walls clinging to him, unwilling to let him go. Vox moaned, deep and primal, as he dragged his cock out until just the tip remained inside, then pushed back in slowly, the feel of him parting you making you quiver.  

“Oh, god, Vox,” you gasped, your body trembling, arms reaching out for him to come closer to you. You wanted more, needed more, the slow, tantalizing build was driving you mad. Tears blurred your vision, but they weren’t from pain. The pleasure was mounting, and you craved its climax, growing impatient for the rush.  

Vox leaned in, allowing your arms to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer. His rhythm was steady, deliberate, his hips circling in slow teasing motions. Your own hips moved in sync, grinding against him, showing him how soaked you were, how much you wanted him, how your body screamed for him.  

“If you could only see what I see,” he whispered, his voice filled with tender and care. His eyes stayed locked on yours. “If you could only see, sunshine,” he murmured again before pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. His hips pushed harder against you, the friction of his pubic bone rubbing against your sensitive clit, sending sparks through your core.  

It was the combination of his sweet words and the way he knew your body, how he understood every secret it kept, that had you completely losing control. Your legs fell open wider, your lips parted, breaths coming out in ragged pants as your eyes silently pleaded for more.  

He was hitting that spot inside you, the one that made stars burst behind your eyelids, and you could feel the pressure building deep within you. The cool air had long since dried your bodies, leaving only the heat – the unbearable, searing heat of desire that radiated between you. His chest pressed firmly against yours, your nipples rubbing against his now slick skin, the friction driving you wild.  

You could hear his uneven breath, could feel the tension thrumming through his muscles as he held himself back, trying not to lose control. He wanted to make this last, wanted this moment to be special. You could tell how much today meant to him, how different this time was. He wasn’t just fucking you – he was making love to you. And you surrendered to it, letting him take what he needed because you knew there was a different kind of pleasure in giving.  

And you knew exactly what he wanted to hear.  

“I love you,” you whispered, voice soft but clear. His hips faltered, a shudder running through him, his eyes wide with disbelief as they met yours. He blinked, lips parting as though to say something, but you brought his head down to rest against your forehead, strands of your hair reaching out to him, charged with the static. “I love you,” you repeated, feeling his cock twitched, harder, deeper inside of you. For a moment, you wondered if he could just come from hearing those words.  

You didn’t say it often. Those three words. Vox had always said them enough for the both of you. 

But now, seeing the joy, the pure ecstasy in his eyes, you thought maybe you should say it more often. He looked so incredibly happy, like your words had unlocked something sacred within him.  

“One more time, sunshine,” he trembled, his voice thick with emotion. “Please.” He clutched you tighter, your legs wrapping around him, pulling him closer as your lips ghosted over his, and you whispered it again, letting those three words sink into him, into both of you.  

“I love you.” 

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, and when they opened again, they were filled with something raw, something powerful. His pace shifted, faster now, his thrusts deeper, more urgent. The table rocked beneath you, the sound of wood creaking barely audible over the wet, rhythmic slap of skin against skin and your voices of ecstasy. His cock plunged in and out of you, filling you, stretching you, the sound of your slick arousal filling the space.  

His eyes never left yours as he ravaged you, each thrust more desperate than the last. His balls slapped against you, his breath coming out in hot, ragged bursts, but his focus remained on you. His fingers slid down between your bodies, finding your clit, and your sharp gasp was your only warning before he rubbed them in time with his thrusts. He knew exactly how to touch you, the tempo, the pressure that made you lose your mind.  

A coil tightened in your belly, the peak so close your body could only tremble as the pleasure built to an unbearable height. “Oh, fuck,” Vox groaned, his voice low and wrecked. “Fuck, you feel so good. Faster? Slower?” He panted, his skin hot and slick with sweat, his nipples grazing yours with every thrust.  

“Ah–mm,” you moaned, eyes fluttering shut. “Keep going like this, Vox, ah–don’t stop,” you pleaded, your walls tightening around him, your body on the edge of release. The wet sound of his cock sliding in and out, the wet friction of his fingers on your clit – it was too much, too intense, and yet exactly what you needed.  

Vox’s thrusts grew more deliberate, each one sending a jolt of pleasure through you as your body clenched tightly around him. He groaned deeply, feeling your walls squeeze him, signalling just how close you were to falling over the edge. “That’s right, baby doll,” He panted, his voice raw with need.  “That’s right…that’s right.” Every word was punctuated by the rhythmic slap of his hips against you, his fingers flicking over your swollen, oversensitive clit. The sharp sting from his touch melted instantly into a wave of pleasure, your breath hitching, ragged, desperate for him to keep going, to push you that last step.  

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chanted, the words barely audible as your body quivered beneath him. His cock filled you completely, plunging deep, the friction making your lips fall open as he drove into you again and again. Your muscles tightened, like a drawn bowstring ready to snap, and you pressed your heel into his back, grinding against him.  

With a whimper, your head fell back, eyes squeezing shut as that searing, white-hot rush of orgasm hit you like a tidal wave. “Oh, fuck…fuck,” you cried out, your entire body shuddering, pleasure rolling through you in heavy crashing waves. The intensity wracked your senses, and you barely registered the way Vox pried your legs open wider, gripped your ankles as he kept thrusting into you, chasing his own release.  

His pace quickened, the table creaking and groaning under the force of his movement. Your gasping breaths and the slick, erotic rhythm of his cock pounding into you was all you could focus on. Vox moaned sharply above you, his head falling back, his hips jerking forward as he reached his peak. His cock pulsed inside you, spilling hot streams of his release, and you could feel every throb and every twitch as he filled you completely.  

“Oh…yea, baby,” he panted, his voice thick with pleasure.  He slowed his movements, thrusting lazily as he milked every last drop of his release, his hips roiling in slow circles. “Fuck, you take me so well,” he murmured, his breathing heavy as he pushed deep one last time, burying himself to the hilt.  

Your legs, trembling from the aftermath of your orgasm, fell limply from his grasp, your body still buzzing with the sensation of him inside you. The hard edge of the table dug into your back, but you didn’t care. Not when he finally leaned forward, bracing his arms on the side of your head, his face hovering just above yours. His breath fanned across your skin as he gave you a relaxed, satisfied grin.  

As his cock softened, he slowly slid out of you, and you felt the rush of his release spill out from you, the proof of your shared union dripping onto the tan, hot sand.  

“Happy anniversary, love,” Vox murmured, his voice soft, intimate. He reached out, cradling your face in his large hands, his thumb brushing tenderly along your cheek. “To another year together,” his smile was gentle but behind it, there was a flash of something vulnerable, something raw that made your chest tighten. 

And then it hit you, all at once. 

For Vox, this wasn’t just about sex or a casual fling. He was celebrating something much deeper, something that went beyond the physical. 

He was celebrating the fact that, year after year... 

You stayed with him. 

You chose him. 

You were the only one who had ever remained by his side, who had loved him long enough, steadfastly enough, to make him feel... worthy.  

What he was truly celebrating was each year that you chose to stay with him, every single time. And you could see it now, in the way his eyes softened, in the way he touched you like you were his lifeline, like you were the one thing that grounded him in this Hell.  

And perhaps, that was worth something to celebrate every year. 

Follow #vexitober 2024 to read my questionable kink/fluff stories!

An excerpt from my post when I first announced I was going to do Kinktober/Flufftober:

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE 🫵 EEL BUTLER AND LION SIMP. Now that we know how you feel about their new idol fits, can I ask how does your OC feel about them? iirc she’s not a sona or self insert so her thoughts might be different than yours.

[Referencing this post!]

First of all, I think it's just really funny to think about Crowley having his students wear school-sponsored/mandated idol outfits and sing on stage 🤡 The opening story to the Blazing Jewel event confirms that Crowley’s having them do a musical live for an acquaintance of his who was impressed by their VDC/SDC performance. "It's good for your futures!" he'll insist. "And good for attracting generous donations and sponsors!" "No more complaining from you boys! Get into those suits, slap on your makeup, and I'll see you out there on the bright, shining stage!" ☆～（ゝ。∂）(The boys all grumble about how much they hate this asdasvufvyofqevyefabi)

Assuming that's the situation, maybe poor Miss Raven is told to assist Professor Crewel with making sure the boys are complying (since they're usually argumentative) OTL so she's rushing around doing makeup, adjusting their outfits, etc. She apologizes to everyone along the way--after all, it's because of her uncle that they're being inconvenienced 💦

Of course, Miss Raven does think that everyone looks good, (she especially loves all the shiny bits on the outfits, how they catch the light and sparkle) but she's still plagued by the guilt of knowing most of them don't want to be here. Makes herself glance away or stare at the wall if she thinks she's been looking at someone for too long; she knows that's awkward and impolite. She has to stay professional!

Jade would find it all amusing--it's different than the usual everyday, so he welcomes the change in pace. He plays along, behaving like the perfect little angel (excluding some teasing).

"... You seem awfully pleased about this," Raven remarks as she fiddling with some chains. They've twisted, and she's beginning to suspect he purposefully knotted them to prolong the time she spends with him.

"Fufufu... Well, it does take me back to my middle school days. Floyd, Azul, and I used to play in a little jazz band of our own. The contrabass, in fact."

She quirks a brow. "You? In a band? That's... surprising. This isn't another one of your deceptions, is it?"

He laughs, and it sounds musical itself. "Is that really so difficult to believe? Music is considered a precious gift to merfolk. Being able to share a song with the world means more to me than you can possibly imagine."

"Oh, is it? That's interesting. I had no idea that music held such significance to your people. Many birds share a similar sentiment; songs and special calls may be used to find partners, so it has more of a romantic connotation."

"My, how... fascinating." His mismatches eyes glitter with mirth. "Perhaps we are more alike than I initially thought."

She sighs. "... Please do not get ahead of yourself and focus on the task at hand. This performance needs your undivided attention."

Jade leans in, his nose and hers almost touching, his smile razor-sharp. "Then I do hope you whole-heartedly accept my gift to you, Miss Raven."

Leona's the opposite; he's pissed off that he got woken up from his nap to do what is essentially a friggin' PR stunt to make the school and the headmaster look good. Bitches and moans the entire time.

"You aren't making this easier for anyone, Leona-san. Certainly not for yourself," Raven gently scolds him. He's fighting with the buttons of his dress shirt, which strain to contain him. "I understand that this is an annoyance, but please bear with it for the time being. It will go by that much faster if..."

The buttons finally give up and come free. His shirt spills open to the valley of his cleavage.

Raven frowns, raising a hand to shield her eyes out of respect. "I'm not sure that's appropriate for our purposes."

"You're soundin' an awful lot like Kifaji, Canary." Leona shoots her a scathing glare. She balks, her resolve wavering. "I gotta breathe, don't I? And 'sides, if it's publicity the headmaster's after, he'll get his damn publicity."

Raven raises a finger, but quickly lowers it and clamps her mouth shut. It's not worth it to argue with him. He's cooperating for now, just nod and move on. "... Very well, so long as you get approval from Professor Crewel before walking on stage, it should be fine."

She spins on her heel to head to the next student--but a commanding voice calls out, pinning her in place.

"Not so fast."

A shadow falls over her. Raven dares not move.

"The headmaster, Crewel. I don't care what either of 'm thinks--but what about you? I need the little assistant's approval too, don't I?" Leona steps into view, tugging on the lapels of his jacket. "I'll need ya to appraise me real carefully."

[theyanderespecialist]

Base Yandere Nanami Headcanons: Serious Obsessive Love (Jujutsu Kaisen)

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins! I am back, and this one-up is Nanami and his Base Yandere Headcanons! I hope that you all enjoy this chapter here, my muffins!] 

(Disclaimer: Nanami is not Yandere in canon! This is just for fun and not to be taken seriously at all! Simping for fictional characters and yanderes is fine! Just do not be illegal or gross about it! You know who you are! You Dirty, Flaky, Biscuits! Yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life. Also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon from canon! Thank you!)  -Base Yandere Headcanons With Yandere Nanami X Gender Neutral Reader From Jujutsu Kaisen-

.Nanami is a man that original found that being a Jujutsu sorcerer sucked and he did not want to do it, but then he learned having a regular nine to five also sucks.

.He chose to be a Jujutsu Sorcerer as it sucked less and he felt small amounts of geninue apprecation from innocent people he saved.

.For him, that was enough to live the life he chose without regrets!

.He believes that love sucks and being in love sucks, so when he fell in love for you he knew that it would suck.

.But he could not get you out of his head, and he wanted to have you as the life partner he would have.

.He is a kind man who has his true feelings reserved, and he comes off as very serious and even a bit stern.

.But he is a really kind and caring even though he does not show it to most people.

.He is the type of man who can separate his sentimental emotions for you from the stuff he works with.

.So he can take his obsessive love for you very seriously and can separate his obsessive love for you from his work.

.He can keep a professional side to him and not let his feelings for you get in the way of his work. 

.He is one of the most serious and organized yanderes there is, who can manage his feelings and know when it is not okay to cross a line with you. 

.He is very blunt and forward with what he wants and what he wants to do with you. 

.He is up front about his feelings for you, but also knows that confessing his love for you right away is not the best choice, so he would hold off on that for now.  .He takes his love for you very seriously and is planning a future with you. 

.He knows that he might not be able to be around for the long haul because he is a Jujutsu Sorcerer. 

.His life is on the line every day, and he would want you to be taken care of, so he would have the best life insurance on him, so that you are set if anything happens to him. 

.He is protective of you and would want you to hold onto your sense of safety and innocence, as well as your ignorance of how dark the world is. 

.He wants to make sure that you are safe and sound and can live a life where you are unaffected by how dark the world is. 

.If you do find out how dark the world is and how dangerous it is, he prepares you to be able to stand on your own and able to survive. 

.He knows that when your life is put in danger, he might not be able to protect you, and so he would do everything that he can to protect you, even teaching you how to survive the worst things in the world. 

.He is a practical yandere who is willing to teach you to know all the things to survive, because he does not want you to depend solely on him. 

.He wants you to be able to save yourself if you have to, but he would have manipulated you so that you trust him and would never put up a fight against him. 

.He wants you to trust him and have faith in him, but also be able to stand on your own, and for you to be able to not only survive but also thrive! 

.He is the type of yandere that, once he gets close to you, he is very sociable and able to spend a lot of time with you. 

.He loves to talk to you and spend time with you, going on many dates and having deep conversations with you. 

.He is the type of yandere who enjoys spending time with you so much, and he cherishes all the time that he can spend with you. 

.With rivals, he has NO time for their nonsense, he does not like to do overtime, and he feels the same way about dealing with rivals. 

.Any time he has to spend on rivals is something that serious pisses him off, for someone to waste his time of being with you. 

.They think they are worthy of you, and therefore they are wasting HIS time being with you. 

.He does not kill them right away, unless they are a curse. 

.If they are human he would beat the crap out of them, to make sure they get the message to stay clear of you. 

.That is after they did not back off when he had first confronted them.  .He would have confronted them and told them to stay clear of you, if they did not listen and tried to get close to you, then he would have beat the crap out of them. 

.If they kept pushing after that, he would have a curse go after them to kill them, and then kill the curse to cover up that he was involved with it. 

.If anyone hurts you, he would kill them, with zero hesitation, regardless of whether they are a human or a curse. 

.When he finally does confess his love to you, he is going to be blunt to you about it. There is no doubt about what he is telling you, and he is very serious in his love confession. 

.If you accept his love, he will then tell you that you are his and that he is going to love you and take care of you. 

.You basically made a verbal contract to be his, and he will never ever let you go. 

.If you turned down his love, he would say he accepts it, but he is planning on kidnapping you and making sure that you are his. 

.He would indeed kidnap you, and he promises you will have freedom again, once he makes you love him and that he can trust you. 

.He will be able to tell if you are pretending to love him, and he will not let you pull the wool over his eyes. 

.And once you truly love him, he will love you and allow you to have freedoms again, but not a single second before that. 

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS another chapter is done! I hope that you all enjoyed this, and stay sexy, all of my sexy muffins!] 

[ereawrites]

girl please you are my only source of Shisui content😭😭 really feeding us shisui simps🤝🏻 anyways, if you feel like it, can you please write about shisui and (if you want to) your fav characters “the moment they realized they fell in love with you”

MMMMMMM this is cute asf! under the cut for length

shisui

he definitely already recognises he has Feelings with a capital F. he's a smart boy and unlike the other two he is pretty emotionally available. but he doesn't want to reveal his Feelings just yet because circumstances are tricky, and he doesn't want to go through all the emotions of a big confession just to not be able to pursue a relationship with you

side note this is ANBU shisui. so he's pretty busy and just casually risking his life on the regular. tbh you're also probably in ANBU and that's how you guys get to know each other so well

anyway he's been sitting on these Feelings for a while. and he knows you like him too. he knows. he indulges in some lowkey flirting from time to time, but he also tries to maintain some level of professional distance

and then you save his life and he's SCREWED

you're both assigned to the same mission and spend the entire time dancing around flirting/not flirting, trying to hide it from your teammates, just generally having to try really hard not to distract each other too much. then there's an ambush on your squad and shit gets kinda crazy

shisui probably exhausts himself a bit protecting the entire squad and manages to get himself knocked flat on his ass. there's an enemy stood over him and he's out of kunai and his chakra is depleted and he thinks well, that's that and then you're cutting down the enemy out of nowhere

he stares up at you like an idiot lol. you look like shit, you're covered in blood and your headband is lopsided. and he thinks you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen

HE LIKES A WOMAN WHO COULD BEAT HIS ASS okay

in that moment he just realises how much he trusts you, and how well you guys work together. he can't stop thinking about it long after you guys get back to the village. he's literally dreaming about it. and after a few days he's like. this is love ig. wow.

shisui won't keep it from you for long. he thinks you deserve to know, even if it changes your dynamic as teammates. capital F Feelings are one thing but love is too important to hide. he might try to keep it professional (mutual pining?!?!??!), but I also see him going for a relationship here, even if you have to hide it from your superiors. and let's be real a secret relationship with shisui. it's hot

kakashi

see now kakashi. he knows he has feelings. but he won't admit it to himself. he says no thank you not today. he's so stupid lol he thinks if he ignores it then it'll go away

he can't really keep himself away from you though. he wants to distance himself and that's his first instinct, but he literally just can't do it. he keeps finding himself wandering into your path, or just happening to train at the same time as you, or listening more intently when a mutual friend mentions your name

and the whole damn time he's like ah yes this is normal friendship. you probably don't realise anything is going on with him though, because kakashi is just weird in general. he does all this strange shit and no one questions it. you encounter him in the makeup aisle of a store on the other side of town from where he lives, and he thinks the jig is up, but you literally just assume he's doing Kakashi Things. and he thinks he's so slick

when it does finally hit him though, it hits him HARD. I see him finally realising he's in love in a very random, domestic moment

okok I've got it. he's back from a pretty tiring mission and he just instantly wipes out in his apartment as usual, doesn't bother getting groceries or anything. he figures he can survive off the food pills in the cupboard for a few days until he has the energy to grocery shop

then you just.....show up at his apartment??? carrying grocery bags?? and start putting food in his fridge????

kakashi doesn't really know how to react to this, but he feels bad just standing there, so he kinda sheepishly shuffles over and starts helping you put the groceries away. and it's nice. this is when he realises

literally drops whatever he's holding. this is a big oh shit moment for him. he lowkey really panics, he has no idea what he's supposed to do with these feelings, it's the dreaded L Word and that's scary as hell. he goes super quiet and avoids eye contact bc he's convinced you're going to read his mind

and of course you think this is Kakashi Things yet again. he's just weird. even over the next few weeks when he starts acting REALLY strange - avoiding you like the plague one day, attached to your hip the next - you don't think much of it. and this makes it sooooo much worse for him lol. he's never going to confess on his own

it's honestly torture for him. he's losing sleep over this. kakashi hatake??? in.... LOVE???? impossible

please please please just let one of your mutual friends intervene. hopefully he (drunkenly) confesses to someone, and they're able to pull some strings to force you to talk to each other. he may literally pass out when he has to confess to you, but just roll with it

tobirama

oh god it's so cliche for tobirama but I have to do it. ENEMIES TO LOVERS

like look at him. he's so smug. he has a lot of pride, so he's pretty likely to end up having some kind of political/ideological rivalry with you. maybe you tend to very vocally disagree with his ideas for the village or strategies for missions. and it annoys him so much, especially because you're articulate and convincing with your points

so he's in this weird position where he has respect for you and your intelligence..... but you also infuriate him to no end. over time, he starts to dwell on your encounters more and more - he thinks about them even when he's training, or relaxing at home, or away on a mission. and this just pisses him off more bc he literally cannot get a moment's peace from you

hashirama notices this WELL before tobirama does. and it makes him all giddy and excited bc he knows what it means, but he doesn't want to ruin the surprise for tobirama lol

honestly it gets to the point where he will ignore everyone else in the room just to debate with you. it's at this point that he starts to realise he's got strong emotions towards you, but he kind of just brushes it off as a rivalry. he definitely doesn't even consider the possibility that they're romantic feelings

tbh. you're going to have to be the one to make the first move. unfortunately for you, tobirama is hot AND irritating, so he's going to get under your skin just as much as you get under his. it probably ends up with a pretty heated confrontation at some point

lets say you've had a pretty big disagreement at a meeting, and he ended up getting his way with the rest of the council. so you storm into his office later that day to chew him out. and tobirama is in one of his smug asshole moods bc he 'won', which means he's just smirking at you. and this is the moment ok just kiss him. wipe the smug look off his face

it takes him a few seconds to react, but he definitely pushes you off and orders you out of his office. at first he's absolutely furious, but then he realises a few days later that he can't stop thinking about the kiss, and not necessarily in a bad way. he finds himself wishing he'd kissed you back, even if just out of curiosity

BUT tobirama is stubborn so he won't admit that to you. he waits until he gets an opportunity to come argue with you, then seeks you out, and tries to goad you into kissing him again. hopefully he manages to piss you off enough to make you do it. because it's GOOD

he can't help but kiss you hard. probably pulls you into him by the jaw, wraps his other arm around your waist, won't let you go. don't wanna get too saucy here but I wouldn't be surprised if this gets a little steamy before he stops himself. he gets lost in the moment

then he pushes you off AGAIN lol it's so frustrating. this time it's bc he's like oh fuck. fuck. this is more than a rivalry

it's gonna end up a game of cat and mouse tbh. neither of you want to admit the depth of your feelings, but you also can't stay away from each other

[l0ganberry]

HB Satan headcanons

(all random thoughts to feed all you simps, including myself)

☆There was a time where all the deadly sins had a band, and Satan was and still is a professional with playing the guitar. (Either one but I would love to see him with a Electric guitar, shredding it)

☆Is definitely one of those muscleheads that worry about working out on their arms only. Never legs

Like this (HE LOOKS LIKE THIS. Broad chest with skinny legs):

☆does meditations on his freetime, with the help of Yogirt

☆is one of those healing crystal girls

☆doesn't care about messes

☆BIG COLLECTOR

☆since he's a dragon, he definitely has many piles of hoards

☆he will be only tidy with his hoards so he knows what's with

☆Examples: a separate hoard of weights and another of crystals

☆but the amount of stuff becomes so bad like one of those tv shows where they visit trashed homes, piled up with shit everywhere.

☆loves ASMR (FIGHT ME!!)

☆I love the idea that he did babysit Charlie Morningstar when she was a baby

☆He would pretend that he hates it, but in reality, he enjoys it

☆Softie to children

☆has serious anger issues but overtime has admittedly gotten better from help on strategies

☆overconfident af

☆cares deeply about his appearance

☆that means he is obsessive with self care

☆has favorites

☆I don't think he goes through that many imps to act as his comfort buddy, like Yogirt

☆Oh! Also can tend to have a soft spot for imps

☆he canonly admits to making imps to be obedient, so does see them like pets (for how terribly belittled they are, yes.)

☆his feelings for imps always shift depending on the situation

☆imagine Satan's and Yogirt's relationship is the same as Asmodeus's and Fizzarolli's?(I'M CALLING IT!)

☆grunts all the time

☆favorite food is deviled eggs (eh🤷‍♀️)

That's all I can think of right now. But I'll make more headcanons. Feel free to go wild with any of these headcanons that you agree with. That's the fun things with headcanons. They're like little fun theories about the character. True or not, it's not meant to be taken serious. (Unless proven true in future episodes<3)

[multi-fandom-things730]

Misguided Messages

Summary: Y/N’s ex can’t handle the fact that she moved on from him and she’s happy with Hook. But when he starts doing more than sending them glares backstage, Hook makes it known that you don’t ever threaten his girl.

Warnings: creepy ex, cussing, violence, blood, threats, fights, protective!Hook, angst?, fluff, simp!Hook, teensy tiny bit of spice if you squint

𝘼/𝙉: AAAAHHHHH, I’m doing it! I’m finally posting an imagine🥳😭 I hope you guys love it! It’s definitely not perfect, and I’ve got a lot to learn, but I tried my bestest! And of course I have to give SO MUCH THANKS to @99hook!!🧡 I would never have posted this if it wasn’t for her love and support!!!! Thank you so much bestie for motivating me and I hope you love it bestie!!!🥰🧡🖤

Having an ex work at the same company as you shouldn't be that big of a deal.

You'd think everyone should be able to behave professionally and go about their day to day lives normally.

But no; because Y/N's ex didn't know the meaning of the word normal.

He was a low card wrestler at AEW; barely even on tv. He was only shown when the better wrestlers needed an easy win.

She had dated him a long time ago, back when she was in college and he was still in the indies.

But now she had risen the ranks in AEW backstage, and was a fan favorite backstage interviewer and occasionally she even got to dabble in storylines.

It was right around when he first joined Team Taz that Hook met Y/N.

There was an instant attraction between the two, and she even pulled his first words out of him in a backstage interview.

Everyone could see the chemistry between them; even the fans picked up on it.

The fans really started to ship them after a particular incident.

"So Ricky, Hook, how is Team Taz feeling about the upcoming-" Her question is cut short when Darby Allin and Sting come from out of nowhere and attack the two. 

Y/N let's out a pained yell as she gets pushed over in the chaos and twists her ankle.

Her eyes widen however when Hook punches Sting extremely hard in the gut, before running over to kneel beside her.

He scoops her up into his arms and backs away from the fight. "Are you ok?"

"I'm ok" she replies. "You should go help Ricky, I'm alright"

Hook just shakes his head no, casting one more glance over to Ricky. He and Ricky exchange nods, and he knows Ricky's got it handled.

So he turns and walks down the hall towards the medical room. "I saw you land on your ankle; how bad does it hurt?"

"Not that bad" Y/N answers. "I think my heels just made it hurt worse"

Hook nods, and it's then that he notices the camera man following them.

He scowls, and adjusts Y/N so he's holding her with one arm before shoving the camera to the ground. "Get that shit out of her face!"

After that, fans were itching to see them get together. And even though neither one were willing to admit it, they were too.

But it wasn't until Hook's in ring debut that it finally happened.

"Hey Hook!" Y/N runs over to him with an excited smile. "Are you excited to debut?!"

"Damn.." Hook can't help but audibly groan at the sight of her.

She was always a sight to behold, but tonight she looked even more breathtaking than usual. She had on a cropped corset top with a see through bodice that had floral lace patterns etched onto it, high waisted leather short-shorts, knee high black boots that had orange rhinestones bedazzling the heel, her natural hair down, and very light makeup; the only pop of color was bright orange highlighting the inner corner of her eye.

"Y-Yeah" Hook stutters out an answer to her question.

"You're gonna do absolutely amazing!" Y/N encourages.

He smiles, bashful at her praise. "Thanks Y/N"

"Tyler!" The two look up when Hook's name is called.

Taz, who was walking over to check on his son, can't help but smirk and chuckle at the pink color on Hook's cheeks. That was definitely not something you see everyday.

"How are you feeling about your first match son?" Taz asks, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm all good dad" he replies.

"And Y/N, it's always lovely to see you honey" Taz greets. "And you're representing the FTW colors, I love it"

"Thanks Taz" Y/N grins. "I thought it was appropriate given Hook's debut"

"Absolutely!" Taz agrees with a grin. "You know, it's a shame to put that outfit to waste"

"What do you mean?" Y/N asks.

"Well, Ricky and Hobbs aren't able to go out with Hook tonight. So, if you're both cool with it, you could go out with him. Maybe stand ringside" Taz offers.

Hook's eyes widen as he shoots his dad a warning look. His dad was always trying to meddle with him and Y/N-

"I'd love to!"

His eyes widen even more as his head snaps back down to look at Y/N. "R-Really?"

"Yeah! If you'd like me too, of course" Y/N replies.

"Yes! I'd be happy for you to" Hook scrambles to get the words out fast enough before doing his best to recollect himself and return his face to its usual stoicalness.

Taz let's out a laugh, before patting Hook's shoulder. "Well I best be going, commercial's almost over and I gotta get back to commentary. You're up next son, and you're gonna do great. See you two later"

They both say goodbye before Hook turns to Y/N. "Sorry he just volunteered you to do that. You really don't have to if you don't want to"

"What are you talking about?" Y/N asks. "Of course I want to"

Before Hook can respond his music hits.

"Well go on!" Y/N encourages. "I'll be right behind you"

He smiles back at her, and takes a deep breath before daring to peck her on the cheek really quickly before walking out.

Y/N falters for a second, and blushes wildly while her fingers brush over where he kissed her.

Then she snaps out of it and follows him out.

Y/N grins proudly at the pop he gets from the audience, and claps along with them as she trails behind him down the ramp.

He circles the ring as Y/N stops in his corner.

Hook climbs in and walks over to his corner, paying Fuego Del Sol no mind as he leans against the turnbuckle.

Y/N smirks mischievously before climbing up to the apron and looking right in Hook's eyes.

He has to stop himself from reacting to the close proximity of their faces as she leans against the opposite side of the turnbuckle.

"I know you're gonna do amazing" she smiles softly, running her hand over his jaw.

He has to fight as hard as possible to stop a smile from overtaking his face.

Her thumb trails over his bottom lip as he stares at her adoringly.

And when the ref walks over to tap Hook on the shoulder so he'll turn around, she pecks him right on the lips before hopping off the apron and down to ringside.

His eyes widen, and his eyes trail after her.

She smirks at him, and points towards Fuego to indicate he should turn around.

He sends her a smirk back before turning to focus on his match.

He officially asked her to be his girl as soon as they got backstage, and she was so excited to say yes. After that Y/N and Hook were always together.

She always accompanied him to the ring, and Hook would be lying if he said he didn't love getting to show her off.

Y/N in turn, loved to be shown off by him. The way he was so proud to be her boyfriend made her heart melt.

Y/N was also not afraid to get in someone's face if they were messing with Hook.

At Hook's third match, when QT Marshall grabbed his ankle, Y/N was quick to intervene.

"Hey! Bastard!" Y/N storms around the ring to plant herself face to face with QT Marshall.

Was he much bigger than her, and a trained wrestler? Yes. But did he intimidate her? Not at all.

"Oh, oh, oh, oh!" Ricky exclaims from commentary. "Pissed off woman headed your way QT! Better watch out!"

Taz laughs. "Ain't no saving him now!"

"Keep your pathetic hands to your damn self!" She screams. "You're just pissed because Hook has already surpassed you and this is only his third professional match! You're so desperate to prove that you can train someone better than him; and you're too stupid to realize that's never gonna happen! Because Hook has more natural talent in his pinky finger than you have in your whole body!"

Hook can't help but peer over at his girl, a cocky smirk resting on his face as he watches her defend him.

"You listen here-" QT points his finger in Y/N's face.

But he's cut off by the bell ringing, signaling the end of the match.

Neither of them had realized that Hook locked Solo in a redrum.

Y/N let's out a cheer as she hops up onto the apron, but before she fully steps into the ring QT beats her to it.

Hook lightly pushes her back, signaling for her not to get in as he steps up to QT.

Hook turns away from QT after a moment, sick of the man yelling in his face, and that’s when QT grabs Hook's arm and yanks Hook around to face him.

The look on Hook's face is dangerous, and QT quickly raises his hands in surrender.

But it was way too late, and Y/N lets out a laugh when Hook hits him with an overhead throw and plants him onto the mat.

Hook turns back to her, and jumps out of the ring. He stops and holds his hand out to help her down.

She smiles at him as the two walk up the ramp, with Hook placing his hand on Y/N's hip and pulling her into his side.

"You screaming at him was so fucking sexy" he breathes into her ear.

Y/N looks up at him, and he smirks at the blush on her face.

But QT Marshall just never knew when to quit.

The match between Serpentico and Hook was extremely quick.

Serpentico didn't even have an opportunity to take his kimono off before he tapped.

Taz, Ricky, and Y/N were all laughing and cheering for Hook's win as he kept Serpentico locked in the redrum after the bell.

But Y/N's smile morphs into a glare when QT Marshall comes strolling out. "Hey, hey, hey, hey, this is the exact crap I'm talking about! Hey! This is what I'm talking about! You idiots don't realize what he's doing!"

Hook lets Serpentico go to turn and face QT with an annoyed look.

"Hitting the guy before the bell, keeping the choke on too long. His dad's laughing about it, his girlfriend's cheering him on" QT complains.

Y/N quirks an amused eyebrow at him, and nods her head.

Taz laughs again from his seat at the commentary table. "Yeah I am"

Hook just rolls his eyes and waits for Y/N to join him at his side before walking up the ramp.

"He's a delinquent!" QT exclaims.

Y/N intertwines her fingers with his as they walk by QT without acknowledging him.

But Y/N let's out a surprised yelp when QT grabs her arm and turns her to face him.

Hook feels her be yanked back, and whips around with a furious glare.

He pushes Y/N behind him, before getting chest to chest with QT.

QT continues to scream, but Hook doesn't really hear any of it. All he knows is that QT touched his girl.

Hook grabs QT and T-Bones him as hard as he can.

Hook stands up, and walks over to Y/N. "You ok baby?"

"Yeah, I'm good Ty" she answers with a smile.

Hook takes her hand again, and steps over QT's body.

He then turns around to place his hands on Y/N's waist and pick her up to place her on the other side of QT so she doesn't have to step over him.

Taz is still laughing at commentary as the two walk backstage. "You never put your hands on Hook's girl! And if you do, he's gonna teach you a lesson you'll never forget!"

"They're like AEW's Bonnie and Clyde!" Excalibur says with a laugh.

Y/N also started learning to commentate around that time, and Taz was happy to be her mentor.

Y/N was sitting at the commentary table next to Taz. She was quiet for the time being, because QT Marshall was out there with one of his students and Y/N refused to acknowledge him.

But then something catches her attention, and she turns to look at QT with a raised eyebrow. "Ladies and gentlemen, the recipient of the first ever QT Marshall certificate of accomplishment: Hook!"

She crosses her arms as she stares QT down, suspicious of his intentions.

But she can't help a smile growing on her face when Hook's music hits, and he comes walking out.

He glances over at her before making his way down the ramp.

"What?!" Chris Jericho exclaims surprisedly.

"The cold-hearted handsome devil: Hook" Excalibur says.

"Here he comes!" Jericho exclaims excitedly.

"We're not quite sure what the hell this is about with QT and the certificate of accomplishment" Taz says.

"Hook looks annoyed that somebody woke him up to send him out here" Jericho laughs, making Y/N laugh as well. "He probably is"

"QT likes to take a lot of credit for training Hook" Y/N rolls her eyes.

Y/N goes to stand up, but Taz grabs her arm and lightly pulls her back down. "Don't go smacking the guy up just yet Y/N" he says with a chuckle.

Y/N recrosses her arms as she keeps her eyes fixed on the ring.

"This is such a special night" QT starts. "I mean normally a mentor-" he stops when the crowd starts chanting for Hook. "Yeah, give it to him guys. He deserves it. Normally a mentor would get jealous when his protege surpasses him, but not me, I'm not a selfish kind of guy-"

Y/N laughs when the audience boos at that.

"I'm not!" QT insists. "So I’m just gonna get right to it.  Hook, congratulations. This is something you're gonna be able to tell your grandkids about. You are the recipient of the inaugural, first ever, QT Marshall certificate of accomplishment"

QT takes the plaque from Aaron Solo as he shoots off a confetti gun.

Y/N can't help but giggle at the unimpressed look on Hook's face as confetti falls around him.

"What the hell is going on?" Taz groans.

But then Hook slams Solo's head into the certificate, making Y/N and Taz burst into laughter as Hook makes his way back up the ramp.

But Y/N's smile drops when Danhausen comes creeping out from backstage.

She immediately stands up and storms over when Danhausen tries to curse Hook.

Hook is completely unfazed, and moves to step around Danhausen.

But Y/N snatches the back of Danhausen's shirt and pulls him around to face her before slapping him right in the face.

Everyone at the commentary table cringes at the sound.

"Y/N just slapped the taste out of Danhausen's mouth!" Jericho laughs hysterically at the shocked look on Danhausen's face.

"I think the curse backfired on Danhausen!" Excalibur exclaims.

"You don't mess with Y/N's man you guys" Taz laughs.

Hook wraps his arm around Y/N's waist and pulls her backstage as she glares at Danhausen.

"Calm down mamas" he breathes into her ear.

Hook smirks as she falters, and he admires the blush lighting up her face. "You like that nickname mamas?"

Y/N nods, burying her face in his chest as she hugs around his torso.

He laughs softly and presses a kiss on top of her head. "The last time you reacted like that was when I called you babygirl"

He just laughs again when she has a similar reaction, before swatting his chest. "Stop teasing me!"

"I'm sorry babygirl" he says in a low tone. He lets his hands trail down her body to rest on her hips. "I didn't mean to tease you. I just love those cute little reactions.. my cute girl"

Y/N smiles up at him, and gets on her tip toes to press a kiss to his nose.

Hook's face flushes red, and it's Y/N's turn to smirk. "It's ok, because I love your cute little reactions too honey"

Hook squeezes her hips, and leans down to bury his head in the crook of her neck. That nickname always made him bashful and blush.

Y/N giggles and runs her fingers through his hair.

Even after Hook accepted Danhausen as a tag partner, Y/N was a little unsure of him.

She didn't like how he wanted to fight Hook at first, and Y/N was a little protective of Hook.

But he did grow on her eventually, and she was so excited when the two worked together to beat Tony Nese and Mark Sterling.

But it was around this time that Y/N's ex was suddenly unable to keep his stupid fucking mouth shut.

"Hello Miss Y/N" she hears from behind her, and turns to face Danhausen with a smile.

"Hello Danhausen" she greets back. "How are you today?"

"Very well, very well indeed. I just came over to see-"

"Y/N" Danhausen is cut off by a man he doesn't recognize stepping out in front of them.

Y/N rolls her eyes, but Danhausen notices the way she takes a step closer to him. "What do you want Matthew?"

"I just wanted to talk to you without your little boy toy behind you" Matthew scowls.

"Uh, hello. Danhausen here" Danhausen waves. "She has a very evil friend instead"

"Like I'm scared of you" Matthew laughs.

"Like you have any room to talk" Y/N retorts. "At least Danhausen gets matches. When was the last time you wrestled? I don't even know, but I'm sure it was a throw away match to get someone else over"

Y/N smirks at the look on Matthew's face, knowing what she said was true.

"Just leave me the fuck alone Matthew" Y/N demands. "You know I have a boyfriend. And he is a hundred times the man you could ever dream of being, and makes me a million times happier than you ever did"

With that she grabs Danhausen's arm and pulls him down the hall with her.

"I'm not gonna give up that easily! Mark my words, you'll be hearing from me!" Matthew yells.

Danhausen turns to curse him, but Y/N just yanks him down the hallway. "He's not even worth it"

"Who was that despicable person?" Danhausen asks.

"He's just an ex" Y/N answers. "He just has a hard time accepting that I broke up with him. He hadn't bothered me in a while though.. I thought he was finally gonna leave me alone"

"We should tell Hook" Danhausen says.

"No! Please don't!” Y/N immediately replies. "Tyler will loose his damn mind, and he needs to be focused on his match tonight. The last thing I want is for him to get suspended or something because he attacked Matthew. Which we both know is what he'll do"

Danhausen is silent for a few moments, before huffing. "Fine, Danhausen will not tell for now. But if he bothers you any more we must"

It didn't take very long for him to do just that.

But this time he made the mistake of doing it when Hook was around.

Y/N giggles at a joke Danhausen tells her as the two sit in catering.

It was late; the last match had wrapped up a while ago, so they were the only ones there.

They had decided to hang out at the venue a little later than usual, and Hook was now taking a shower really quick before the three headed out.

"Hey Y/N"

"Ew!" Danhausen screams. "It is creepy rat man!"

Y/N can't help but burst out in laughter at Matthew's expense.

"I want to talk to you" Matthew says, attempting to be assertive in his tone.

But Y/N had changed a lot from the meek girl she was when she was with him. That tone may have worked on her once, but never again.

And she knew that infuriated him when she looked over at him with a bored expression. "I don't wanna talk to you though. So too bad"

"You really think you're all that now because you're Hook's latest piece of ass, huh? He doesn't give a damn about you, but you're too fucking stupid to realize that. He'll never treat you the way I did-"

"The way you did?!" Y/N exclaims, jumping up from her seat to glare daggers at him. "You're right. Tyler would never treat me the way you did. He would never treat me like I'm worth nothing more than a fuck. You expected to be able to treat me like shit, and then still have me waiting for your beck and call. Well newsflash Matthew; you may have destroyed me back then, but I healed myself. And Tyler has shown me what it's like to be loved. He's shown me what being with a real man is like"

"Hey bitch!" Everyone's head snap over to the hallway, where Hook is storming over with a look in his eyes that Y/N had never seen.

Hook snatches Matthew up by the collar with a dangerous look on his face before landing a vicious punch right on his jaw.

"Tyler!" Y/N exclaims as Danhausen immediately tries to pull him off of Matthew. 

Y/N grabs his arm and pulls him towards her.

Hook let's her do so, but he doesn't stop glaring at Matthew. "You mess with my girl again and I'll knock your fucking teeth in"

And after that Hook lets Y/N drag him down the hallway.

Neither one of them say a word until they get to Hook's dressing room.

Hook wordlessly sits down on the couch, and furrows his eyebrows when Y/N lingers by the door and doesn't sit down next to him.

He holds his hand out, signaling for her to come over to him, but she doesn't.

"Get your cute little ass over here" Hook says with a little pout.

Y/N breaks out into a smile at that, and does as told.

When she gets close enough he grabs her hips and pulls her down to sit on his lap facing him.

Y/N wraps her arms around his torso and buries her head against the side of his neck. "I'm sorry"

"For what?" Hook asks, leaning back a little in an attempt to look at her. But she holds on tighter and doesn't let him. "For all that with Matthew"

"It wasn't your fault" Hook replies, but she can feel his body tense. "Who was he though?"

"He's an ex" Y/N answers.

Hook doesn't like the vague answer, and gently wraps his hands in her hair to pull her head up and makes eye contact with her. He didn't give a damn about some stupid little ex of Y/N's; he knew that Y/N only wanted him, just like he only wanted her. But he does care when that ex starts bothering her. "Has he been bothering you before today?"

Y/N shrinks under his gaze, but when she tries to look down he tightens the grip on her hair slightly. "I.. Only a couple times"

"Y/N" Hook chides. "These are the kinds of things you have to tell me"

"I know" Y/N says softly. "I just didn't want you to get in a fight with him or something"

Hook sighs, before pulling her to him and kissing her softly.

When they pull away Y/N lays her head on his chest as Hook runs his hand up and down her back, occasionally kissing her head and whispering sweet words to her.

That was a couple months ago, and Matthew had let up a bit.

He never approached her in person anymore; but he did message and call her.

Y/N knew she should tell Hook, but she was scared he'd snap and beat him up again.

It was a miracle that Matthew didn't report Hook the first time, and Y/N didn't want to risk Hook loosing his job over her.

So she just dealt with his abusive texts and voicemails, and did her best to not let it bother her.

But it obviously did, and Hook was beginning to pick up on it.

Like right now.

Y/N and Hook were snuggled up together on their hotel bed. Y/N was tucked into his side with her head on his chest, and Hook had his chin resting on top of her head while absentmindedly running his fingers up and down her back.

But then Y/N's phone started ringing.

Hook began to move to hand it to her, but she squeezed him tighter. "Don't move" she whined.

He laughs softly at her, and peers down at her with an adoring smile. "You're adorable babygirl, but it could be something important"

Y/N pouts, before turning to grab her phone.

Hook looked back at the tv, which was playing a rerun of Y/N's favorite show.

Hook had turned it on for her while she was getting ready for bed.

But his head snaps over to her when he hears a little sniffle escape her. 

He pulls himself up to rest against the headboard, and gently places a hand on her back. "Talk to me mamas.. tell me what's going on so I can help you"

Y/N hesitates, and stares down at her phone. "I'm scared to"

Hook furrows his eyebrows at that. Why would she be scared to tell him something?

Hook places his hands on her waist and turns her to face him. She looks down at the bed, but he puts his finger under her chin and tilts her head up to look at him. "You can tell me anything Y/N. Anything. You know that"

"I know.." She mumbles. "It's not how it sounds. I just don't want you to get in trouble"

"Why would I get in trouble?" Hook asks.

"Because I think you may kill someone" Y/N answers with a soft smile.

Hook cracks a smile as well. "If they're bothering you, you may be right"

"Tyler" Y/N chides, lightly swatting his chest as they smile at each other.

"Ok, ok" he relents. "I at least won't kill anyone tonight"

Y/N takes a deep breath. "It's Matthew.."

Hook's eyes harden immediately, and he has to take a couple deep breaths of his own. "What about him?"

"Ever since you punched him, he hasn't come up to me in person. But he has been messaging and calling me" Y/N admits. "He always says the meanest things and it's just-" Y/N sniffles again, and Hook wipes away a stray tear with his thumb. "I'm so sorry I didn't tell you. I just didn't want to say anything to you because I was scared you'd attack him and get suspended or fired and I can't even imagine you being gone and I-"

Hook cuts her rambling off by placing his lips against her's.

Y/N immediately melts into him, placing her hands on his neck as her holds her face and their lips move in sync.

He pulls away after a few seconds and kisses her forehead before speaking. "I'm not happy you didn't tell me.. but I guess I understand why. I shouldn't have acted the way I did before. Maybe then you would have told me-"

Y/N places a finger against his lips, cutting his sentence short. "No. You know what? Neither one of us is gonna apologize. Did either of us handle the situation perfectly? No. But none of it is our fault's; it's his"

Hook smiles softly before nodding.

He pulls her body flush against his, and nuzzles his head in the crook of her neck. Y/N giggles as he starts leaving kisses there.

"I think he's just mad because he doesn't have the sexiest girl in the world to keep him warm at night anymore" Hook teases, and Y/N let's out a surprised squeal when he slaps her ass.

"Tyler!" She chides through giggly laughter, and he laughs along too.

The two spend the rest of the night too wrapped up in each other's presence to even remember Matthew's name.

A couple of peaceful weeks went by after that.

Matthew had called a couple times and sent a couple of messages, but Y/N just ignored them.

She told Hook every time, and he wanted nothing more than to track Matthew down and make it so he was terrified to even breathe in Y/N's direction.

But she begged him not to do anything rash, and he reluctantly agreed.

Hook kept true to that agreement for almost a month.

The two were at the arena, getting ready for that night's rampage. Y/N had gotten into the shower while Hook was putting on his ring gear and taping his fists.

"Ty!" Y/N called.

Hook immediately hopped up and walked into the bathroom. "Yeah mamas?"

She doesn't say anything, but she sticks her head around the shower curtain and pouts her lips.

Hook smirks, and walks over to place his lips against her's.

He reaches into the shower, before she giggles and closes the curtain. "You can't come in here! You're gonna get your tape wet! And your precious hair!"

Hook just chuckles. "You're the one who called me in here"

With that he walks back into the dressing room, but stops when Y/N's phone starts lighting up.

He grabs it, and starts to circle back to the bathroom to let her know she had gotten some messages, when he realizes who the messages are from.

Hook scoffs as he watches more and more messages from Matthew pop up on the screen, and with each one he feels his body heating up in anger.

But then a particular one delivers, and Hook tosses the phone down on the couch before storming out of the room with a rapid heartbeat, a clenched jaw, and clenched fists.

When Y/N gets out of the shower, she is greeted with an empty dressing room.

She furrows her eyebrows in confusion, but figures Hook just left to do something real quick.

She gets dressed and started on her makeup.

But right as she finishes putting on her lipgloss her door is swung open, and Ricky Starks comes rushing in.

"What the hell Ricky?! You scared the hell out of me!" Y/N exclaims.

"You gotta come with me" Ricky says, and grabs her arm to pull her out of the room.

"Where? What's wrong?" Y/N asks.

"Hook's beating the hell out of some random jobber" Ricky answers, and Y/N feels her stomach drop.

The closer they get Y/N can hear the fighting and yelling, and she pulls away from Ricky to just run towards the sounds quicker.

"Tyler!" She screams when she sees him holding a bloody and beaten Matthew up against the wall by his neck.

"Huh?! Come on! Threaten someone who will fight back you son of a bitch!" Hook screams, not even hearing Y/N over the blood pumping in his ears.

"Tyler!" Y/N yells again, and runs over.

Hook whips around when he feels someone trying to pull him off of Matthew, but his wild eyes soften when the see it was Y/N.

But she wasn't looking at him, she was watching with wide eyes as Matthew slid right down the wall as soon as Hook wasn't holding him anymore.

"What the hell Tyler?!" Y/N yells.

Hook just stares at the floor, chest heaving and sweat running down his body.

"Matthew swung first" Ricky speaks up from behind them. "Hook went up to him yelling and shit, but he never touched Matthew until after he punched Hook"

"I knew you wouldn't want me to.." Hook mumbles, nervously looking up from the floor to make eye contact with her.

Y/N takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself down.

"Why don't you two go to Tony's office and explain all that then" Y/N says shortly, watching as medics finally run over and start tending to Matthew. She felt guilty that she just couldn't bring herself to feel bad for him. But Ricky said that Matthew swung first, so whatever happened to him was his own fault.

Hook doesn't move though, and stares at Y/N like a lost puppy. "Are you mad at me?"

Y/N sighs, before wrapping her arms around him in a hug. He immediately responds, wrapping his arms tightly around her in return.

"I'm not happy you came out here looking for him, as I assume that's why you left the room"

Y/N looks up at him with a pointed look, and he looks at the wall to avoid eye contact. "But, if he swung first then I'm not mad at you for the fight"

"I had to. I couldn't let him say what he said to you, I'll always defend you" Hook says firmly.

"What are you talking about?" Y/N asks with furrowed eyebrows.

"You didn't look at your phone?"

Y/N was sitting in her and Hook's shared hotel room while scrolling through all the messages Matthew sent that day.

And Y/N knew exactly which one must have set Hook off.

You don't wanna respond to me bitch? That's fine, because when Hook goes out for his match tonight I'm gonna find you and teach you to never ignore me again. And trust me, you'll never forget it.

Y/N didn't even want to think about what he had been planning to do before Hook found him; and she couldn't be anything but grateful to Hook.

She had heard that Matthew was in the hospital with broken bones and other injuries, and she wondered if that would have been her without Hook.

Matthew had never actually hit her during their relationship, but he came very close when she broke up with him.

But her thoughts are interrupted when the door swings open.

She jumps up and runs over to tightly hug Hook. "Is everything ok?"

"Yeah, it's all ok baby" Hook comforts, running his fingers through her hair. "There was a video of the whole thing so I'm not in any trouble"

"Thank God" Y/N breathes out. "And Matthew?"

"He's gonna be fired. You know, whenever he wakes up" Hook brags with a lopsided smirk.

Y/N laughs, and gets on her tiptoes to peck his lips. "I love you so much. And thank you, I can't help but think about what could have happened-"

Hook leans down to cut her off with a kiss, before pulling away and resting his forehead against her's. He lets his hands rest on her hips as he stares into her eyes. "You don't ever have to worry about someone hurting you. Not ever again. Not when I'm around, which will be forever"

Y/N smiles, and lets out a surprised laugh when he picks her up and carries her over to the bed.

She gets comfortable under the covers as he puts on pajamas.

He lays down next to her and she immediately nuzzles into his side.

Hook wraps an arm around her waist, and uses his free hand to draw random shapes on her exposed stomach.

Y/N sleepily smiles as she realizes he's writing out 'I love you' at one point. "I love you too"

[daytaker]

The Gang's Tumblr Pages

Inspired by this and my own reaction to it.

Lucifer

Perfectly curated, perfectly formatted, and whenever there's a major change to the tumblr format, he simply leaves the website altogether in a huff of peacock feathers.

Lots of HD photography of nature getting reblogged.

Has an extremely complicated and specific list of tags he uses for every single post.

He only reblogs text posts that are sufficiently visually appealing. Very few meet his high standards.

You could look through his entire blog and not learn one single thing about him except that he's a perfectionist to the point of neurosis.

He has a lot of professional art blogs following him.

Mammon

Oversharing oversharing oversharing!!!!

He regularly gets himself in trouble by shouting about the shit he's done into the void of the internet.

Tried to have a tagging system but forgets about 7/10 times.

Reblogs himself all the time to say "AND ANOTHER THING!!!"

He hates looking at the actual blog pages. The text is always so tiny and some of them start playing music and changing his mouse into a weird shape? No thank you.

He has very few followers and he doesn't really care. Who goes on tumblr for the social element? Weirdos, that's who.

He's insanely easy to troll with anonymous asks. Everyone has done it. Even Lucifer, though he wouldn't admit it.

Some of his best asks:

"did u just post that you're okay with the idea of ponies and unicorns breeding. like no shade on that conceptually but why."

"If you reblog another 'reblog this for good luck' post, I will personally break down your door and steal your skin."

"ur ugly" "yeah-huh" "ugly" "no i won't 'come off anon and fight u' whhy don't you come ON anon and fight me?" "'i don't know how' sounds like something a chicken would say"

Leviathan

He just makes a blog like one of us. Fandom stuff.

Except he's multifandom to the extreme. It's impossible to keep track of his interests because he always has so many simultaneously.

He has the most followers of the brothers just because he gets so deep into so many fandoms that they come rolling in.

He has blocked all of his brothers except for the twins. They're okay.

His blog is a chaotic mess but there is order within the madness. He has a masterpost of tags that explains everything if you care to look at it. (I don't recommend it.)

Satan

It feels stupid to even put this in writing but...cat pics. Endless cat pics. That's like 90% of his blog.

The other 10% is a mixture of book recommendations and analysis, Lucifer shade, and a comprehensive, ever-expanding list of shit Lucifer has done to make Satan angry. It's a very long list. It's organized by theme.

"Lucifer inflicts unjust punishments." "Lucifer makes unnecessary snide remarks." "Lucifer simping for Diavolo and MC (pathetic)."

His blog itself is very minimalist and clean.

He's another fastidious tagger. He tags the cat pics by color, breed, age, number of cats, setting...

Asmodeus

He's not very into tumblr. It's like Devilgram but more complicated and less popular.

Sometimes he'll post or reblog 'aesthetic' things. Moodboards and the like.

In general though, he doesn't really 'get' tumblr.

People don't post selfies very often. Weird.

Beelzebub

Food blog.

Just food.

Reblogging hot dogs.

Reblogging nachos.

Reblogging ice cream.

Nothing else. Ever.

Belphegor

"This minimalist Tumblr has no posts."

No posts.

Default profile picture.

Sometimes he'll like something.

Usually he just looks at it.

Diavolo

There is no order. Only chaos.

He hardly ever uses it, then he'll come online and reblog a million things that have nothing to do with each other. Then he'll go silent again.

He has no tagging system.

He has no custom theme.

He is very friendly to all anonymous askers though.

Barbatos

Barbatos would never have a tumblr. Don't be ridiculous.

Solomon

He only posts very rarely. He prefers to lurk.

When he does post, it's something weird as fuck, like reblogging statistics about owl pellet contents.

He likes to keep people on their toes.

Simeon

Reblogging inspirational quotes, pictures of nature, and general positivity.

That is, once he figures out how the website works.

That takes a really long time.

What is a queue? What are tags? Why is it called a "reblog"? How does he track activity? How does he navigate the homepage? Why does it post things in such a strange order? What is a "Blaze"? What is a draft? Custom URL? Custom Theme? Sideblogs? Mass Post Editor?

Someone please help him.

Solomon probably does that.

Luke

Baking.

He uses tumblr for recipes and images of baked goods.

But tumblr isn't even the best place to go for that, so he isn't on very often.

He sometimes likes Simeon's posts, just as a show of support since he knows how hard Simeon works to post anything anywhere.

[gabrielsbubblegumbitch]

DROP YOUR DX FOR VOX !!!!! Please and thank you.

I would like to preface all my posts on headcanons related to psychology and mental illness with a disclaimer: diagnosing mental conditions, especially personality disorders, can be extremely challenging. It's a complicated process that relies heavily on a psychologist's interpretation of facts, making it susceptible to biases. Personality disorders cannot be diagnosed based on surface-level observations and are not just labels that we can assign to people like in the case of MBTI. Additionally, I am not a clinician with any expertise in diagnosing people. Therefore, the following post should not be taken as a reliable professional opinion. It's simply my interpretation of the internal mechanisms that may be responsible for the behavior of certain characters in my fan fiction. Furthermore, I want to make it clear that I have no intention of stigmatizing people with personality disorders by associating them with villains. A personality disorder does not determine someone's character or make them a bad person. Some characters may be evil because of the choices they make, not as a result of their mental conditions.

(I've already posted some stuff here so I'm not going to repeat myself.)

Okay, so, Vox has Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD). It's crucial to distinguish this from "common narcissism" (people often described as "narcissists" by others just because they are egotist assholes; kinda ableist, you shouldn't do it because it's extremely stigmatizing towards people suffering with actual NPD) . While those individuals typically function well, those with NPD exhibit all the traits – grandiosity, egocentrism, attention-seeking, intense power fantasies – but as it's a disorder, these traits lead to inflexible and maladaptive patterns of behavior and cognition.

NPD has its roots in intense feelings of shame, low self-compassion, and self-loathing. In my interpretation, Vox has always felt inadequate. His father inherited an enormous amount of money, establishing a media conglomerate in the 20's. Vox's mother, captivated by the world of movies, used them to escape her reality as a trophy wife. Despite her dreams of becoming an actress, Vox's father, possessive and protective, prevented her entry into the entertainment industry. As a compromise, he made their son a child actor, with the condition that it would be temporary. When Vox grew older, he was expected to transition to learning business and other skills, ultimately to take over the family's empire.

So, Vox was never enough for either of his parents. His father thought of him as annoying and unserious due to his talkativeness and exaggerated behaviors, attributing it to growing up surrounded by actors. As for his mother... Vox turned out to be a terrible actor, struggling to convey emotions that weren't bombastic and over-the-top. Being a teenager is humiliating enough, but imagine being a teenager bad at something and forced to do it for a worldwide audience, when the whole production crew is annoyed with you. Fortunately, he grew up to be devilishly handsome (not to be a simp, I just believe someone must be handsome to endure the ethereal punishment of having their face swapped for a TV screen) and entertaining, leading them to make him a TV host and media personality.

Anyway, NPD is all about creating a perfect self and projecting it to the world when you're deeply ashamed of your true self. It means that, no matter what you're doing, you're constantly concerned about how it looks to other people. You constantly play an exhausting game, trying to win gold stars of social admiration for every-fucking-thing, guided by superficial ideals of wealth, perfection, beauty, and, above all, power. One reason Alastor's existence bothers Vox so much is the fact that he cannot comprehend the idea of someone choosing radio over his "objectively better and correct" medium. Vox lacks the ability to understand nuanced sentiments, which ironically makes him thrive in Hell. In this anarchocapitalist, lawless society, survival of the fittest prevails, and this is a game he excels at playing.

Generally, the best approach for individuals with NPD is to pull them out of delusional thinking by confronting their beliefs about the world and themselves with reality (it should be performed by qualified therapist, especially when someone hasn't completed any kind of therapeutic process yet). However, in Hell, Vox's behavior was no longer in violation of social norms; on the contrary, it was highly rewarded. Consequently, he completely lost his shit, became unhinged, and began acting on all his previously suppressed urges. He finally fulfilled all narcissistic power fantasies and became (almost) untouchable. Now, he's ready to kill anyone who questions him, seeing it as threatening to his fragile image of the perfect self.

He exhibits strong bipolar tendencies. Most of the time, he's power-tripping in a semi-maniacal state. Periodically, he undergoes deep, depressive episodes, locking himself up in his apartment and avoiding interaction.

Constantly guarding this fragile image of the perfect self that he built is exhausting. The bigger this image gets, the more fragile it becomes, like a house of cards. And guarding it becomes more and more exhausting. But there's nothing scarier than the idea of the facade falling apart and people seeing him as he is: imperfect and vulnerable, damaged and ashamed, rotten and evil. Deep down, he knows he's unlovable, and it hurts. He knows that true love exists; he craves this ultimate form of admiration and devotion, but it requires vulnerability and honesty, which he's not capable of. He's only vulnerable with Valentino, and only occasionally when he's intoxicated or when Val fucks every last thought out of his body. He's very much a controlling top insecure about his masculinity, so the latter happens rarely.

Also, drugs. Oh, do this man enjoy some coke. Other drugs and booze, not so much; they make him feel less in control. But getting coked up, going out, causing a scene, killing some poor souls, and relishing this feeling of being completely untouchable? Feels so good.

When it comes to Alastor, he hates him because he's jealous. Despite all his efforts—building a perfect persona, a perfect company, perfect entertainment—this stinky, outdated, and boring radio demon gets so much attention and admiration that should be his. Moreover, he feels that Alastor can see right through his bullshit. He's so paranoid about it that he's almost certain Alastor knows about his childhood traumas, about his death, about all his truths, and could one day broadcast it for all people of Hell to hear. So, he needs him dead.

Note: these headcanons (especially Vox's past) are very important part of my fanfiction. Please feel free to use them in your fics but I'll appreciate if you tag me 🩷

Velvette hc | Valentino hc | Vees + Angel hc | VoxVal hc

[ashisgreedy]

Hello! Hogwarts Legacy Fandom PSA!

I just wanted to encourage you to create anything you want no matter how big, small, or shitty you may think it is. Even one-paragraph ideas all the way to multi chapters! I don't care if its a 1 second audios, or a playlist with 3 songs! I'm talking to you.

It's a well known fact that the majority of us in this fandom are not professionals lol. We are just out here living our best life simping for fictional characters.

This post is just to encourage you to create and feel free to post it!! I know I'd love to see it and many many others would as well. I don't care if it's a half-finished wip you abandoned months ago, or a 2 sentence HC that doesn't fit with anything else you are doing.

I just want to encourage you to share your ideas and creations with us! It's not just about writing, audios, or drawing. You can create anything and share! Bracelets, poems, macaroni art I don't give a fk. Please share!!!

I see so many good takes left in Discord servers. This is tumblr, not some professional site you have to be perfect on. Share the gif! Share the doodle you did on a napkin! Share your ideas and I'm sure someone would be willing to make it a reality or just love hearing it!

I love this fandom and I'd hate for there to be some kind of glass ceiling people think they need to meet before their stuff becomes "worthy" of tumblr lol. Post your unedited fic if you can't stand editing it. Just post it!

It's not about the likes or the interactions. It's about having fun! Did you have fun making it? That's all that matters. Is it super niche and only caters to you or a select few? Post it! Go nuts!

I love yall and I hope this does encourage you! It's a fandom! You don't have to be part of some exclusive club to share your creations. Even if you ever share one thing, I am proud of you and happy to have your contribution to this fandom!

Lastly, fun fact, if you block an anon ask and look at your block list you can see who it was 😀

That is all. lol, Thank you!!!!