#[ and i'm looking forward to getting back into writing ]

[saymio]

Silent Obsession

Pairing: Hwang In-ho (the front man) x Fem!reader

Summary: your husband was missing, and all you did for days was stay at home crying your eyes out...waiting for your dearest husband to come home. this was until inho had decided to come give you a little visit while you were all alone and vulnerable.

Warning: dead dove: do not eat, noncon, degradation, light bdsm, manipulation, In-ho is obsessed with you, rough sex, mentioned age gap (20 years), cheating (not rlly), there might be more but I'm too lazy to write it.

A/N: not proof read. this takes place during s1. (most/all of the beginning contains junho x reader content)

7.2k Words

...

it was 2015, just a few days ago your boyfriend junho had invited you to meet his family on the day of his brothers birthday. his brother was turning 40 and they were hosting a small party, just a few people... and your boyfriend thought this would be a great time to invite you to meet his mom and brother. he was ecstatic at the thought, he really wanted his family to get to know you since last year he had met yours. and he was really serious about you... but it would be an understatement to say you were nervous. hell, you were scared. you wanted to leave a good impression on his family, this was the man you wanted to marry. if his mom didnt approve of you what could you say? she was wrong? that her opinion didn't matter? these thoughts swarmed your head for hours every day....

junho was driving the two of you from your small shared apartment to his moms place. you were sitting in the passenger seat as you stared out the window of the car, you were shaking... not from the cold but from the anxiousness you were brimming with. your fingers tapped against the interior of the car, your nails making a clicking sound every time they touched the material. "are you cold y/n? I told you itd be cold today..you should've worn a bigger jacket" junho glanced at you for a second before staring back at the road and sighing. he hated when this happened, when youd be so insistent in not 'ruining' your outfit that you wouldn't pay attention to whether you'd be cold or not. this always happens! ..but he always wears a jacket for you. because he knows you'll end up shivering from the cold gusts of wind and he cant stand the thought of you suffering from the freezing temperatures. you let out a small chuckle, it was barely over a whisper but junho heard you loud and clear. "why're you laughing.." he frowned a little, not because he's upset or mad at you but just because you werent taking the situation that seriously. "what if you catch a cold? at least think about me when you dress this way..you know I hate when you're in pain.." the last part of his sentence was soft and quiet, as if he was murmuring to himself..making sure you wouldn't hear him. "stop worrying so much babe...I'm not cold or anything.. just a little jittery, its my first time meeting your family after all." you giggled at his genuine worry for you, he was such a drama queen. making these small actions seem so much more serious then they were..but its something that made you love junho. how kind and protecting he was of the people he cared about. "nervous? you don't have to be nervous y/n...I'm sure they'll love you." junho's right hand made its way to your left hand. holding it tight before giving you a soft gentle smile. his ability to sooth you with just his smile had to be studied, he truly was an angel on earth to you, like he had a halo on his head 24/7. you leaned forward a little and left a quick peck on his cheek, quickly leaning back down to your seat and looking away from him. but at the corner of junhos eyes he could see how red you've gotten...he thought it was adorable. how the two of youve been dating for 2 years but you still got flustered over small kisses. you were so innocent and kind, the exact woman he needed in his life...

but little did junho know, he was right. his family did love you..especially his brother.

you had arrived at his mothers house, .. your nerves were spiking, how should you introduce yourself? what if the cake you made was still raw? what if inho doesn't like his present? these thoughts ran through your head as you two waited for someone to open the door. your finger nails tapping against the box the cake you had made was in. the sound deafening you as you just wanted the damn door to open already. you really just hoped youd make a good impression... after what felt like an eternity the door opened, behind to door revealed the birthday boy himself, Hwang In-ho. junho just shook his hand before you bowed at him slightly before shaking his hand and introducing himself briefly. "happy birthday In-ho, my names y/n" In-ho just nodded coldly at you, if the harsh winds outside didn't freeze you his stares did. he stepped aside, allowing the two of you in. he lead the both of you up the apartment complex stairs, your heels making a loud click sound echo though the staircase with every step you took. after only a bit of walking up stairs you had reached the door to where the party was being hosted.. . . when junho had told you itd be a 'party' you expected a family gathering with like 15 people, but upon arrival you quickly realized..it was truly just him, his brother and mom celebrating inho's birthday today. you were pleasantly surprised, you hated large groups of people..it made you skittish and always super nervous. so just 3 other people being there calmed your nerves down, alot. the apartment was small and cozy, very homey and nice. his mother had made a mini feast with delicious foods and decorated the place with a few balloons and banners. it was a seemingly wholesome sight of a mother doing something nice for her sons special day, it made your heart warm up inside your chest as you took a seat at the table. "hi honey, what's your name?" junho's mother grabbed one of your hands, cupping it with the both of hers. you felt yourself blush and smile, you had barely even been inside yet his mother was being so kind already. her soft gentle voice, and kind soft eyes. it was everything that's junho was. "y/n, what about you miss?" you were trying your best to be as polite as possible, you didn't want to tip her off and cause her to hate you.. but you felt kind of uncomfortable.. inho..he was staring at you alot. and it was like he wasnt trying to hide it, his dark eyes piecing into your soul. as if he were looking for the innocence inside of you... to take it away from you. the entire day just led to you getting more and more uncomfortable. you weren't able to stare into his eyes because you felt if you did he would just jump onto you not giving a shit about his mother and brother being there too. "y/n, what would you say if your favorite thing about junho?" inho spoke, his deep voice sent uncomfortable shivers down your spine.. this entire atmosphere..it was odd. but it was like only you caught onto it. you stared at inho before turning to junho...he was blushing. he tried keeping a stoic face but you could tell he was getting flustered before you even spoke. his ears tinted in a light pink an so was his neck. "ah.. well his kindness..I think its the main reason I fell in love...he's very kind and soft spoken to people. at least until they do something wrong..but either way he's an angel." a gentle smile took over your face, you stared at junho and then at inho to continue your sentence..it was obvious you were head over heels for this man.. "he's just a very likable man." inho smiled at you, not speaking a word but it was like his face said them all for you. but they weren't the words you'd expect a caring older brother to say, it was more like a .. 'wow how nice.' but in a sarcastic tone.. his mother on the other hand.. "aww how sweet! young love, its so beautiful." she clasped her hands together before grabbing your forearm and staring up at you with twinkling eyes, it was like she was already envisioning your wedding and family with junho. "promise me you'll take care of my son, okay?"

it was a little past 10pm by now, everyone had eaten a slice of cake and junho's mother adored it. junho was right, his mom did love you. she was already talking about marriage and how she wouldnt be surprised if you made the wedding cake because the one you had brought today was "just too delicious!" you laughed and giggled at her antics, your face flushed in embarrassment. you turned to look at inho, who was staring at you intensely. your happiness almost instantly vanished as you shuffled in your chair. maybe he was upset you hadn't given him his gift yet...that should do it!! maybe he'd stop once you did. "a- inho, I brought you a gift." his eyes widened and it had seemed like he just heard life changing news, maybe he really was just sulking over a present..it was kind of cute. you grabbed your bag from your feet next to you and shuffled around until you found a yellow box, you pushed it towards inho and smiled. your tried your best to give a genuine, heartfelt smile even though you felt uncomfortable with all his glances and stares. he smiled at you, this time it seemed a little less fake...but still not genuine. he opened the box, it was a watch. a very beautiful one. it was shimmering under the dinning room light, a light white silver with simple but detailed engravings on the band of the watch. it was beautiful and it definitely wasn't the cheapest, you don't remember how much it was exactly since you had bought it the same day junho had told you about his brothers birthday..but you knew it was enough to make you wince at the receipt. "I left the receipt folded under the cloth Incase it isn't to your li-" you were cut off by inhos voice, it was calm, not as cold as it was before..it was rather soothing even.. "no. its perfect." he put the watch on, adjusting it so it fit his wrist perfectly. you felt your lips creep into a wide smile, you were so glad this day was going perfectly. "wow, that's such a pretty watch! it must've costed you a lot." their mother interrupted the two of you, staring at the watch that sat on inhos wrist and then at you. "inho, say thank you! be polite." she hit the back of his head harshly, as if she were scolding a little kid... you laughed at the scene, mothers truly see their children as their babies forever. "no- its okay miss don't wo-" it seemed like today was full of interruptions and cut offs as inho did just it again. "thank you y/n, I appreciate it a lot." his face was blank again, no readable expression was there.. but based off his passed reactions..you felt he was being sincere. . . . "thank you miss, thank you inho." you bowed at the both of them while you stood at the front door with junho, showing your gratitude for their kindness and patience with you and your boyfriend. "of course honey, please come back any time you want." junho's mother grabbed your hand one more time, inho nodded along with her. he wasn't a man of many words but it seemed his scary demeanor had vanished. maybe it was never even there and you were just nervous..either way you were glad you didn't leave the house with a weird feeling about your boyfriends brother. juho's mother then shoo'd the two of you away, telling you it was late and you shouldn't stay up so late at such a young age... you felt happy. a warm feeling sat in your heart and stomach, it was like you had just found your second family.

time skip (5 years)

there you sat in the police station, its been days since youve last seen your husband. you were sobbing into the palm of your hands, the salty liquid dripped onto your long dress as you drained ever drop of water from your body. you were terrified. what happened to him?? where was he?? what had he gotten into? you were devastated to say the least, you explained with a shaky and quaky voice that your husband had just told you he was off to investigate his brothers vanishment and would be back by the night..like always! so when you woke up and he wasn't there you just felt dread. you texted him and texted him all day to no response. when he didn't come back for the second day you reported him missing. you reported this story to the police about 9 times already, everyday since you reported him missing you came to the police station for any clues or help..an obviously everyday they told you the same thing...that they had nothing. the only reason they didn't push you off to the side when you came in was well..because your husband worked for them. he was a police officer under them, it'd feel disrespectful to you and junho if they just told you to give up hope on finding your husband. maybe you'd stop after another week or two..you'd realize whatever fate inho had found was the same junho ended to aswell... and not only that but you were pretty, kind and in obvious distress over your husband. they'd feel like they just kicked a sick puppy in the stomach if they told you to go away. so every day, at 8am you come in. usually in a pretty sundress but your state of mind isn't as pretty. your eye bags were prominent and you seemed to constantly be in a state of dissociation.... "you promise there's nothing? please double check! please..I need my husband back. you don't understand" your words were exasperated and rushed, you wanted answers, your husband, closure, anything! your breaths were getting heavy as you reached your delicate hand to the tissue box on the desk infront of you. you felt yourself breaking down, more and more, every. day. the police officer let out a breathy sigh, he was trying his very best to not tell you off. to tell you to go back to your home and cry there or something. to stop wasting his time every single fucking day.. but he couldn't. and he wouldn't. not when your state was some of the worst he's seen in his years of being an officer. "listen ma'am, there seems to be a dead end a-" you slammed your hand onto the table, one still holding the now damp tissue as you started to cry harder. you shook your head violently, indicating a very obvious no...or in this case obvious denial. "no. there..there isn't a dead end. he's alive and he needs your help!! please..please keep searching i-i'll.." you started to dig into your purse, the same one junho had gifted you for your 5th anniversary not long before this whole ordeal. when you felt what you were looking for you snatched it out your bag, like it was grabbing it, stealing it from your grasp. "h-here..d-dont stop searching please. I'll give you this..p-please.." in between words you started to cry more, tears streaming down your cheeks and dripping off your skin. your head was lowered and you were looking at your lap. you didn't want to stop looking for him. you wouldn't stop until you knew he was safe. "ma'am...you don't have to give me money for doing my job." he slid the stack of money that you had taken from your purse back to you and shook his head in disapproval. "listen.. sigh we're trying our best okay? we arent just laying around doing nothing, he was our coworker and we want to find him as much as you do.." he looked away from your depressing state, you were catching your breath and shaking, your fists were curled into balls. it was clear, even though he was an officer that he didn't want to find junho nearly as much as you did..he didn't think it would even be possible to. "just..take a break. you're overwhelming yourself and it isn't good for you. junho is strong and you know this, so just believe in him and his ability to live..."

the officer opened a drawer that was next to his seat, it was a little pile of candies.. he grabbed a handful and handed you a few. with a shaky hand you took the candies, your eyes were red and puffy. it was painfully obvious that you had just broken down in tears. you didnt want to speak but it was obvious by the way you acted, that all you wanted right now was for your husband to come back into your embrace. "if you want I can step out and let you calm down." the officer stares at you, awaiting the answer that would leave your lips. "no..its okay.. i-...whatever. thank you, I will take a break to calm down and compose myself. please have a good day." you mumbled the first few words, like a scared child who had just gotten caught with their hand in the cookie jar and is now making up an excuse. you let out a loud sigh before you stood up from your chair, rubbing your tired, sore eyes before fixing your hair and grabbing your bag. you turned around right as you were in front of the office door, you bowed at the officer to show your gratitude as you proceeded to touch the cold metal handle of the door and creaked it open. with a click of the door closing you were walking away from the room you had just broken down in.

there you were, sitting on the edge of the bed you and your husband shared. it felt cold every time you sunk your body into the soft mattress..cold and empty. you weren't used to this, you were used to your husband coming home from work and giving you a kiss. slipping into the soft blankets together as you worked as heaters for each other's bodies. you didn't like this. you didn't want this. you flopped your upper torso onto the bed, causing it to make a squeaking sound to the sudden pressure. your legs were dangling off the side of the bed as you stared up into the ceiling. the world around you felt hazy, like everything that surrounded your body was just an empty void of nothingness. the world was meaningless without junho. you felt your eyes getting heavier and heavier...until they had finally closed shut.

knock... knock... knock you jolted up from your bed, who was here at this time? it's like 2am... you stared at the closed bedroom door, thinking about if it was a good idea to open the doorm. you're a young woman alone at her house at 2am...what if it was a sex trafficker trying to kidnap and rape you!!?? knock... knock... knock the loud but slow knocks echoed throughout the house, the knocks took a 3 second pause inbetween..it was so creepy.. it made your skin crawl.. bu...what if...what if the police have clues about junho and came to talk to you about it they heard of it!! or..what if junho had finally come home..... these thoughts rand through your head, you were scared of what might be behind of that door. but not scared enough to not open it. you slowly got up from your bed, making it squeak under the pressure of your body. your soft slippers made a swooshing sound against the wooden floors as you shuffled your way to the front door... knock... knock.... knock there it was...the knocking. you couldn't help but feel this dry lump from in your throat, but you had to do it...you needed to make sure... if it was some stranger you'd just slam the door on them and go and hide in a closet or something.. your swallowed the lump in your throat and placed your palm on the cold metal of the handle, unlocking it with a small click and turning it clockwise so that it opened the door.. you didn't open it alot, just enough to see who was on the other side. your eyes stared at the dark soulless eyes In front of you, it was a random man. you had no idea why he was here or what he wanted..but he looked very familiar..maybe he was an off duty cop that just wanted to check up on you..? "h-hello..? how can I help you..." your voice was small and quiet, barely above a whisper as you used the door as some kind of shield from the strange man. "yes. you can." you stared up at the man with confused puppy dog eyes, what did that even mean?? you furrowed your eyebrows and squinted your eyes as you stared at him..you were about to close the door on the strange man until something clicked inside of you. you recognized where he was from.. "inho?! w-what? what are you.." your judgmental facial expression quickly changed into one of shook and worry, was he here to see junho? how would you break the news that his brother was now missing too?? you raised your small hand to your mouth, covering it in shock..you didn't even know what to do....what should you say..? your eyes started to water and tear up, you were reminded of the harsh reality junho was in..he was seriously missing and now the person he went missing looking for was In front of you...it seemed like everyone was just against you. mocking the disappearance of your husband. "what...are you doing here? a-are you here for junho..he's.." you let out choked sighs after every other word, taking your hands from your mouth to your entire face. you were a crying mess In front of a man you barely knew, it was so embarrassing. you were so pathetic and sad. everyone's been telling you to just get over it but here you are, sobbing for what felt like the 6th time today. a loud sigh snapped you out of your saddened state,, but...it wasn't a sigh of disapproval or frustration...it was like a sigh of...desire. like he was getting off to the sight your sobbing, scared and fragile body. "you're doing this on purpose, you have to be." you stared up at inho with confusion. you eyebrow was raised, as if asking him what the fuck he meant by that. before you could even mutter a word he pushed you, really harshly. you went flying back into your home, head hitting the hard wood. you felt yourself getting dizzier and dizzier for a few seconds...you felt like you couldn't move, speak or even see anymore...your head was spinning and alarms were ringing from the inside of your head..until you were passed out.

you woke up... you were sitting in the middle of the dining room, it seemed like someone had moved the table and other chairs out the way as it was literally only you. you and the chair you were sitting on. the room was barely lit up, you could only see some of your surroundings due to the singular light that was on. the ligh that bulb was right on top of you..it felt like you were about to get interrogated for murder,,you were terrified. for you wanted to scream, cry and just run away from what was happening. but you couldn't. your ankles were tied onto the legs of the chair. your arms and torso were bounded to the chair itself with a thick rope., it was digging into your skin hard..it hurt. alot.. you wanted to squirm around and get yourself free but you knew you'd just end up knocking the chair down and you'd be stuck in an awkward position..you tried to start screaming but you couldnt, you were confused..it was like your mouth was glued shut.....your eyes darted around the room, looking for anyone, anything to help you. it took you a second for you to put the pieces together but.. once you did you realized.. your mouth was duck taped shut. you didn't know what to do, you were overwhelmed and you just wanted your husband back to you. you closed your eyes shut as warm salty tears fell from your eyes. your eyes just couldn't catch a break, could they? they were tired and sore. even when you werent sleepy it hurt to open and close the..a result of crying for days.. you just wanted to feel happiness again. but clearly that wasn't going to happen soon. was your fate going to be the same as your husbands? were his kidnappers after you to sew your mouth shut?? you didn't want to die..at least not because you got closure.. "you shouldn't cry Infront of me. its a bad idea. I have a thing for little girls that look pretty when they cry." your head jumped forward, looking at the figure that had stepped out the shadows surrounding you.. your eyes widened, remembering that inho had been the one that knocked you over and caused you to black out. the same man that had gone missing 5 years ago, the same man that your brother went missing looking for.. what was he doing here? was he here to kill you? to keep you silent? to assault you? thoughts rand through your head as he took large, slow steps towards you. as if he was mocking your frightened state. he reached his right hand out towards you, your eyes landed on the silver watch he was wearing. it seemed so similar to the one you had gifted all those years ago..but no way he would still be wearing it, right? before you could even process another thought his hand gripped at your hair, pulling your head back and forcing you to literally stare up at him. the roughness of his grip made you wince in pain..he didn't come here with intentions of being nice and if you didn't realize that person you definitely realized that now. you tried to scream and kick your feet, you knew the tape and rope would stop your attempts and make them useless but you still tried. your screams just came out as diluted, muffled noises. the tape had stopped you from making any loud noises... the chair under your only shook a little but it wasn't enough to lighten the grip inho had on your hair. his dark, soulless eyes stared you down. they were like black orbs, nothing behind them. he grinned at you, like he was watching a cartoon and a character had did something funny. he was laughing at you. he thought this was funny. "you look so stupid, you do know that the tape will just silence all your screams, right? or are you too young and dumb to understand that yet." he tilted his head at you and gave you a mockingly confused expression. he was having the time of his fucking life while you were here, scared for your damn life. you glared at him, trying to intimidate him..doing anything to scare him...trying to find the little humanity in him that feels sympathy was clearly never going to happen. so you had to try another approach..even if it wasn't going to work either... and your suspicions were right ..

he just smiled at you, another mockingly fake smile... he released his hand from the grip he had on your hair and pinched your cheeks, just as roughly as he did with your hair. leaving a red mark when he let go... it was like he was treating you like you were a pouting child, stomping your feet because your mom didn't let you buy the comically huge lollipop you really wanted. "youre not scary sweetie." the pet name made you want to throw up in your mouth. he knew well you were his sister in law but here he was, calling you pet names with his disgusting voice. " you know..ive had my eyes on you since i met you...you're just so gorgeous..and delicate." he took a short but slow walk around u and stopped to stand behind you. his cold hands reached to your face and covered your eyes. you couldn't see anything but you knew he was leaned up in your ear...you could feel his hot breath making you unnervingly uncomfortable. "I just wanna ruin you." your breathe hitched in your throat, he was going to rape you. you know it, you had to fight back, you had to. you couldn't let a man that wasn't your husband put his dick inside you. inho took his cold hands away from your face and walked back in front of you. you glanced down at his crotch and...there was a bulge...he was getting off to your scared shape. he truly was an emotionless sadist.. he held up his index finger to your covered lips. "shh. make any noise and I wont think twice about killing you and your husband." your eyes widened as you heard the last part...that meant your husband was alive..and he knew where he was. you nodded slowly, complying with his words. he ripped the piece of tape off your mouth, causing you to let out a yelp in pain. you stared at him with a frightened face, you realized you had just made a loud sound...you didn't want to die you didn't..you didn't want your husband to die! "I said. be quiet." the truth with inho was, he had already killed your husband..at least he thought he did. only a day ago did he shot junho, causing him to fall off the side of the island...he probably drowned and is floating lifeless in the sea right now.. but you didnt need to know that...and it was clear you weren't even aware. your mouth was shut and you tried to silence your heavy rapid breathing....you really did love your husband..he wanted to steal that love from junhos grasp. he leaned down, his face was now perfectly aligned with yours... you wanted to say something, you wanted to scream and cry but if you did he'd kill you...you knew he would... his left hand started to rub your cheek, it was gentle and warm but it just made you hate it even more...his fake kindness. you hated it. his lips connected with yours, at first it seemed like he was trying to be gentle but it was obvious he had quickly gotten bored of it before he got rough. your teeth were clashing with each other as he shoved his tongue into your mouth. exploring every inch of it before he started to nip at your lips...he was aggressive and messy. everything junho wasn't.. this wasn't the kind of kiss you wanted or craved. you felt like your eyes were sewn shut the way you refused to open them, you didn't want to stare at inho. you just wanted this to end..maybe once it did you'd finally have your husband back. after what felt like hours of making out he has finally took his chapped lips off of your soft ones. a string of saliva connected the two of you as he caught his breath. you opened your eyes to stare at him, they were watery..your tears were pricking at the corners of your eyes as you caught your breath. to inho you eyes were like glass marbles...and he wanted to shatter them into pieces. you took deep breaths in an attempt to calm down. if you were calm it wouldn't be as bad. you read this inside your mind over and over and over again. you just prayed he would use you quickly and then leave... "you know, that day..the day where junho has brought you to our mothers house for my birthday.." his eyes wandered away from you, as if he were recalling the day in exact detail, scene by scene...

his eyes snapped back to yours, holding intense eye contact until he continued his sentence... "when I asked you what you loved most about junho you told me you loved his kindness. you said he was a soft person..an angel in your eyes." he crouched down, staring at you with intense eyes. his sharp features were like daggers, stabbing one by one into your heart. "you told me you loved something about him that I lacked. I'm not a kind person. and right now..you probably think I'm the devil instead of an angel like my brother.." he smiled at you, it was a cold, fake smile. if you touched his face right now it'd probably be ice cold.. "thats how I knew someone like you would never willingly be with a man like me.. but it's okay, I'll just force myself onto you." you started to cry, the salty liquid streamed down from your cheeks to your chin. your eyes were red and puffy, you didn't know what to do. you didn't want to be with this man, you didn't want this. inhos left head reached to your face, this time he squeezed the both of your cheeks so that your lips were puckered at him. "got it, princess?" he leaned in to kiss you again, this time he went aggressive right away. forcing his tongue into your mouth, some of your tears dripped onto his mouth. letting him taste the saltiness of your sadness. and it was delicious.

there you sat, he had freed your ankles from the restraints on the chair. nipping and licking at your clit. you hated this, you couldn't stop crying. you felt disgusting, a man that wasn't your husband was licking and eating your pussy out. why would you let this happen? at this point death felt better than breaking your husbands heart. you lets out cries and soft no's as he slurped your juices. you hated that it felt good, you hated that he knew what he was doing. your moans and mewls filled the room, followed with wet sloppy sounds of spit and cum mixed together. he's been eating you out for what felt like hours, you've probably came like 3 times already. you were getting tired..your legs were shaky, trying to close in on themselves but inhos arms kept them wide open for you. "p-please stop. I don't like thi-this...ah...please..let me go already..please.." you were begging with him, your eyes were shaky, your face was flushed and your lips were wet from his aggressive kisses. god. the scene of you begging for him to stop as he abused your clit was one he wanted engraved in his mind forever. he let go of your pussy with a loud pop, your juices and his spit was all over his mouth and chin. he looked like a wild animal that had just eaten his prey alive. with his sleeve he wiped off the liquid on his face. 'ruining' his all black jacket. "you want me to stop but your cum is all over my face and lips. you want me to stop but you keep moaning. just admit you're a slut for me." you close your eyes shut, shaking your head viciously, you don't want him. you don't want this. you just want your husband to be safe. that's all you want... inho scoffs at you, as if you were lying to his face. maybe he truly did believe you wanted this..that you wanted him.. but you knew it wasn't true, you knew that you loved junho and that you werent fighting back back because you just wanted him back.. you'd break down in tears in his arms once he comes home, you'll explain it when he's home. he'd understand..right..? you were lost in your thoughts, but reality snapped you out of them.. 2 long fingers were inside of your core, curling and pumping in and out... it hurt so much. it was nothing like you were used to, slow paced and gentle..no..it was fast and rough. you let out a cry, you were in so much pain it made you want to go insane. the rope that was still tied around your arms and waist dug into your skin, burning you as you struggled under the restraints..trying to find a way out. it felt like inhos was trying to split you in half, the rough skin on his finger pads only made it worse. but ofcoourse it had to feel good, because he knew what he was doing. even if it was messy, even if it was rough, even if you didn't like it..he knew how to make a woman feel good past all the pain. he tilted his head up towards you, his dark almond eyes burned holes into yours. "you gonna cum?" instead of a question, it felt like a demand. demanding you to answer yes, scaring you into saying yes.. but you didn't say yes, you said no. you shook your head and mouthed no to inho, not daring to say it out loud..and it obviously made him upset. he sneered at you before grabbing is free hand and pinching your clit before speeding the pace of his fingers. this was something you've never felt before, the pleasure finally overshadowed the pain and it felt like he had just forced your orgasm out of your body. your cum coated his digits, leaving a slightly milky white color on them.. you were catching your breath, it was hard to breath..the pain, anxiety and fear were catching up to you...you felt your throat slowly closing on you..you felt like you couldn't even breath enough air to supply your lungs are this point.. you were so caught up in your own world that you didn't even realize how he was pressing against the bulge that was begging to be freed from his trousers..he stared at you with bleak eyes, there was nothing behind them...nothing but desire and want..you were scared witless of what he would do to your poor body next. and whatever it was, you didn't want it

the bed was creaking under you, the same bed you and juho slept in everyday... you legs were pressing onto your stomach, the skin rubbing against each other. inho was slamming his cock in and out of you.. touching spots you didn't even know could be reached before this. you felt horrible for feeling so good. but you didn't want this. you were a crying moaning mess. your nails were digging onto his hands, the ones that were pressing you down. you were begging for him to stop, you didn't want this..you felt like you were being forced into this. with the life of your husband on the line.. inho let go of your left thigh and reached to your neck. his freezing hand sending shivers through your body as he started to choke you whilst pounding in and out of you..destroying your gummy insides. he lowered his face to you and scoffed, you looked so pathetic. crying and sobbing acting like you weren't enjoying his fat cock. why wouldn't you just admit you liked it for once? "acting like youre the victim while my cocks deep inside of you. is this all women do? complain about everything..just admit you like it. I wont tell." you felt so degrading. you were getting fucked by a man you barely knew on the bed your missing husband and you slept on every day at somepoint. using his life against you and now he's blaming you? was it really your fault? could you have just turned him away and still gotten junho back? was that an option that you weren't told about? you started crying, your weak arms pushing against his chest with no avail. you just wanted it to stop, you were in pain and now you're being told its your fault you're in this situation. you can never win. you began to sob louder, begging him to let you go, louder and louder until you were wailing like a stupid baby. your hand grasped at the tight grip he had on your neck, then to his chest to push him away again. "shut up." he snarled before taking off his hand from your neck, he had left a bruise from how hard he was gripping...with the same hand he harshly slapped you. shutting your cries up quickly. a red spot started to quickly form, your skin was now irritated in what felt like every place on your body.. "you're such a slut. taking the dick of a man 20 years older than you on the very bed your husband would sleep on. do you not feel ashamed? hmm?" he hummed at you, waiting for your reply. but you didn't even mutter a word, nothing. you decided you'll just take it with no noise, if you stay quiet up maybe it'll end faster?.. it should...shouldn't it..you were trying to comfort yourself in your head.. "you can keep trying to tell yourself otherwise but youre nothing but a dirty cheater. taking dick like a good girl. this probably isn't the first time youve done this huh?" he laughed at your now soulless face, he was right when he said he wanted to ruin you. he was doing that, and it got worse with every second that passed. "ffuck I'm close. you better cum or else I'll js' keep on using you until you do." you started to tear up, your clit twitching and your hole began to clench around his cock. you felt good, but terrible at the same time..you doubted he was cumming because he thought you felt good though, it was a factor but it was probably your shape that made him so horny. you were sad, in pain...tired... he got off to it so bad. you let out quiet pants and moans, indicating to inho that you were close too. he started to get sloppy, his pace getting even faster as the wet slapping sound of skin filled your ears to the brim. you felt your clit pulsating, begging for release...once you came you'd be free..you'd be...you'd be....be.. "a-aa.. fuck fuck fuckfck fuck! ouOUGH~" you let out loud, filthy moans. probably for the first time that night, instead of your cries it was your moans and whimpers that the room was now brimming with. inho loved the sound of your noises, your cries, moans, everything. God it made him so horny...once he felt you cum all over his cock he let his go through as well. fucking his orgasm into you deeper, and deeper with a loud groan..

he kept moving slowly, fucking you through your orgasm as your breathes calmed down.. "I want to ruin every inch of kindness and hope for humanity you have left in you. you're so perfect. perfect to corrupt.." his hand raised to your cheek and started to rub it 'lovingly'. you had a feeling he wasn't going to let you go like he had told you he would.

...

Another not: I FINALLY FINISHED YAY took me like all day again but ....yay!! I hope u guys liked it. I'm pretty proud of it but idk if its ooc or not... but SMASH THE LIKE BUTTON N HIT SUBSCRIBE 4 MORE..!!!!!!!

TAGLIST: @pollys-doublelife @gongyoosgf

[kirammanswifey]

how arcane characters would deal with mental disorders x fem reader

characters: viktor, jinx, vi, caitlyn, jayce, ekko, silco, mel and sevika.

writer's note: writing this felt like giving myself a warm hug, a comfort that i needed. if anyone reading this is going through or has gone through any of these disorders, i want to tell you that you are very brave because it is not an easy thing, so feel proud of yourself. i hope you liked this as much as i did. as i'm a psychology student, i felt very motivated and i hope that it was quite understandable and enjoyable. as you already know request are open ;)

P.S. i know the other option won in the poll on my profile, but i need more time to refine the ideas and make something high quality that everyone will love, which i’ll be posting tomorrow ;)

Viktor Depression

The world around you feels like a constant weight, a heavy blanket that wraps around you, not letting you breathe. You wake up each day with a sense of emptiness in your chest, as if a black hole is absorbing all your energy, your motivation, your ability to feel anything other than sadness and apathy.

It’s not that you don’t want to get out of bed; it’s that the simple act of moving a finger feels like a titanic task. Fatigue is your constant companion, a shadow that never leaves you. Things that once filled you with joy now seem distant, irrelevant, as if they belonged to a life that is no longer yours.

The dark thoughts are your constant whispers, reminding you that you’re not enough, that it’s all pointless, that there’s no way out. Sometimes, you cry without knowing why; other times, you want to cry, but even that you can’t do. You feel trapped in an invisible prison, with no strength to fight your way out.

Viktor watches you from the doorway of your room, his gaze soft and full of concern. He knows the weight of shadows well, although his are different. Silently, he approaches and sits on the edge of the bed, not invading your space, but close enough for you to feel his presence.

“I have a new project I’m working on,” he says in a quiet voice, trying not to break the fragile bubble of your world. “I thought maybe you could join me today. You don’t have to do anything, just be there. Your company always helps me think.”

He doesn’t pressure you. Viktor understands that words can be hard to find when your mind is clouded by depression. He knows that the solution isn’t to force you to feel better, but to be with you, to offer you a hand, a small step forward.

He gently rises and offers his hand, not expecting you to take it, but hoping that you’ll know he’s there, ready to support you when you’re ready. “The world can wait,” he murmurs. “But I’m here, whenever you want to come back.”

His patience is infinite, his understanding deep. Viktor doesn’t try to fix you, because he doesn’t see you as broken. He knows that depression is a battle you fight every day, and he’s willing to walk alongside you, every small step, every shared silence.

You look at his hand, then his face; he’s concerned even though he tries to hide it. You make a huge effort to get out of bed, and even though your body doesn’t cooperate at first, you manage. You take his hand and gently squeeze it; that’s the most affection you can give him right now, you’re exhausted.

“Let’s go,” you murmur, your voice hoarse and broken; it’s the first time you’ve spoken all day.

You’re sitting next to Viktor in his small workshop, surrounded by pieces of metal and unfinished prototypes. He’s explaining his latest invention, a spark of enthusiasm lighting up his eyes. You feel a little better, enough to enjoy his company, and for a moment, a laugh escapes your lips when you hear one of his stories.

“Did you really say that to Heimerdinger?” you laugh, your eyes shining with a spark of life. It’s a small moment, but for Viktor, it’s like seeing the sun rise after a storm.

He smiles, pleased to have made you laugh. “Yes, and his face... It was certainly indescribable,” he replies with a softness that reflects his pleasure at seeing you enjoy yourself, even if just for an instant.

But suddenly, without warning, the laughter turns into a lump in your throat. The spark of joy fades as quickly as it came, and you find yourself trapped in a wave of overwhelming sadness. The tears start rolling down your cheeks, and you can’t stop them. The confusion in your eyes is evident, as if your body has betrayed the fleeting happiness you just felt.

Viktor notices immediately. He leans toward you, his expression turning serious, but his eyes remain warm and full of understanding. He doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t seek explanations that may be impossible to give. Instead, he moves a little closer, offering you his silent presence.

“It’s okay,” he says gently, his voice an anchor amidst your internal storm. “You don’t have to explain it. Just breathe.”

He offers you his hand, this time with more intent. You take it, feeling the warmth and firmness in his grip, a reminder that you’re not alone in this moment. You needed that contact. You needed to know that you could feel something other than sadness right now. Viktor doesn’t pull away, doesn’t feel uncomfortable. He knows that depression doesn’t follow rules, that it can strike at any moment, and he’s willing to stay with you, no matter how long it lasts.

“Do you want us to stay here?” he asks, his tone delicate. “Or we can walk a little, if that helps.”

His willingness to adapt to your needs wraps you in a sense of safety. Even though the tears keep falling, Viktor’s presence is a balm, a reminder that, even in the darkest moments, there’s someone who sees you, who understands you, and who’s willing to stay by your side.

“Just... stay here with me,” you say, letting yourself fall against his body, exhausted.

He caught you and wrapped you with care, it was a hug with the right amount of strength.

“Take your time, darling. I won’t go anywhere,” Viktor promised in a whisper, never stopping the caresses on your back.

And that was enough to make you feel less miserable.

Jinx Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD)

The echo of the explosions still resonates in your mind, even though years have passed since that day when your world crumbled. The night everything you loved was consumed by flames in an attack on the Undercity. The night you lost your family and were left alone, with the screams and the smell of smoke forever etched in your memory.

As you walk beside Jinx through the bustling streets of Zaun, everything seems normal, almost calm, until an explosion in the distance makes your heart stop. It’s a dry, loud sound, far too similar to the one you heard that night. Without warning, your breath becomes shallow, your lungs struggle to take in air, and an overwhelming sense of absolute panic takes hold of you.

Your body freezes, and it feels as if the world around you disappears. The crowd, the lights, even Jinx—all fade away, leaving you alone in that dark place where time doesn’t move. The ground beneath your feet seems to give way, and you feel yourself falling again into that abyss of the past.

"Hey, hey!" Jinx’s voice cuts through the fog in your mind. Her hands grip your shoulders, and her gaze searches for yours with desperation. "You’re not there, do you hear me? You’re here, with me."

Her words feel distant, but the warmth of her hands somehow anchors you, reminding you that you’re not alone. "But... the sound..." you murmur, barely audible, as tears start to fall down your cheeks. "It was the same... the same as that night."

Jinx guides you to a quieter corner, away from the noise, holding your hand firmly. "Breathe, hon, like we always do," she says softly, her voice tinged with controlled urgency. "Fill up those lungs, okay? Like we’re balloons."

You try to follow her instructions, but every time you close your eyes to concentrate, the images of that night hit you with renewed force. "It’s not working," you whisper, trembling. "It’s always there. No matter how much I try, it doesn’t go away. It doesn’t go away!" You scream in panic, the fingers of your hands stiffening, making them immobile.

The worry in Jinx’s eyes softens a little, but there’s something else there, something you can only describe as recognition. "That explosion... it reminded me of something too," she says after a moment, her voice quieter, almost a whisper. "I’ve been there, in that fucked-up place, where the ghosts never stop screaming."

Her words are like a key that opens the door to a deeper understanding.

She falls silent for a moment, gazing into the distance before refocusing her attention on you. "When I have my attacks, you’re always there for me, and I remember I’m not alone. That helps me a lot," she admits, a small, almost sad smile curving her lips. "And you’re not alone either, hon. We’re not broken, just a little bent. And here we are, bent together."

The hug she offers you is warm and firm, a tangible reminder that you’re not alone. You feel her strength, her determination, and something else: her own fear, her own struggle. "You don’t have to fight alone," she whispers, her voice a promise. "If you ever feel like you’re going to fall, we’ll fall together. And then, we’ll rise. Always."

You cling to her like a lifeline, letting her warmth and her words anchor you to the present, if only for a moment. "Thank you, sweets," you whisper, allowing yourself, for the first time in a long time, to feel that it’s okay not to be okay.

Vi Anxiety Disorder

The night drags you into the abyss of your mind, but you find no respite. Instead of waking softly to the day, you're trapped in pure panic. Your chest burns, each breath a lost battle. Your heart gallops wildly, as if trying to escape your chest. You are drenched in sweat, the sheets sticking to your skin, becoming yet another prison.

Your eyes snap open, the darkness of the room seems to close in on you, and the silence is deafening. The sensation of suffocation consumes you. You try to gulp down air, but it's as though your lungs have forgotten how to function. Your hands search for something, anything, to anchor you to reality, but all they find is emptiness.

The door swings open abruptly, and Vi stands there, alert, her eyes filled with concern. She doesn't need to ask what’s wrong; she knows instantly. She moves swiftly but carefully, approaching you without frightening you further.

"Breathe with me," she says gently, her hands finding yours, steady yet comforting. "Inhale through your nose... like this... and exhale through your mouth."

You try to follow her, but your body won’t cooperate. Your breath is shallow, frantic, as though every breath disintegrates before it even reaches your lungs. Tears begin to streak down your cheeks, mixing with the sweat.

"Vi... I can’t... I can't... I’m scared," you stammer, your words broken by sobs. Your mind is caught in a loop of terror, every thought spiraling downward, taking you further away from calm.

Vi sits beside you on the bed, her voice low and constant. "Don’t be afraid. Listen to my voice. I’m here with you, and I won’t let anything bad happen to you." Her tone is firm, anchoring you in the present, pulling you out of the tide of your own fear.

"But it hurts... my chest... I can't breathe..." Your body trembles, and your hands clutch desperately at her grasp. The feeling of control slipping away is overwhelming, leaving you feeling helpless.

Vi pulls you into an embrace, holding you close, offering her calm, her strength. "This is temporary. It won’t last forever," she whispers in your ear. "Trust me. Focus on me."

Slowly, very slowly, her voice cuts through the fog of your mind. You begin to breathe more deeply, following her rhythm, feeling how her presence stabilizes you, like a lighthouse in the storm. The pain in your chest begins to lessen, the pressure relents just a little, and your body starts to remember how to breathe without fighting.

Vi continues to speak, her voice a soft murmur, calming you with every word. "You’re strong. You have control, even if it doesn’t feel like it right now."

The tears still flow, but now they are tears of relief, not fear. "Don’t leave... don’t leave. I need you here," you whisper, your voice broken but sincere.

Vi strokes your hair, her other hand gently squeezing yours. "I’m not going anywhere, little doe," she says affectionately, kissing your forehead, tasting the salty remnants of your sweat.

You remain in her arms a moment longer, allowing yourself to rest, letting her strength hold you as you regain your own. Gradually, the panic fades, leaving only exhaustion and the certainty that Vi will always be by your side, no matter how dark the nights may get.

Caitlyn Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD)

The silence in the apartment is deafening. The only sound that breaks the stillness is the relentless ticking of the wall clock, its rhythm echoing in your ears like a hammer. You’re in the kitchen, eyes fixed on the glasses you’ve meticulously arranged in the cupboard. Each glass must be perfectly spaced, each one aligned to the exact same level. Symmetry isn’t just a preference—it’s a necessity. If something is out of place, you feel as though the whole world could collapse.

Your breathing is uneven, your chest rising and falling in quick succession. "One, two, three..." you murmur to yourself, counting each movement. Your hands tremble, but you can’t stop. You can’t stop. If you do, something terrible will happen. You don’t know what, but the certainty that it will be catastrophic clings to you like a shadow.

Caitlyn enters the apartment after a long day at work. Her expression shifts instantly when she sees you in the kitchen, trapped in your own ritual. She stops in the doorway, watching you with a mix of concern and sadness. It’s not the first time she’s found you like this, but each time, it hurts her as though it were.

"Darling?" Her voice is soft, as if afraid to shatter you. She steps closer, carefully setting her hat down on the table. "What are you doing?"

You don’t answer at first, your eyes still fixed on the glasses. "Almost done... just a few more minutes," you whisper, your voice trembling. You can’t stop. Every glass moved, every small adjustment is a battle between reason and irrational fear.

Caitlyn stops beside you, her eyes scanning the scene, seeing the perfect pattern you’ve created. "You don’t have to do this," she says gently, yet firmly.

Your hands freeze for a moment, but the urge to continue is too strong. "You don’t understand... if I don’t do it right, if they’re not perfectly aligned, something bad is going to happen." Tears begin to well up in your eyes, the pressure in your chest intensifying. "I don’t want you to think I’m crazy, but it’s like my mind... it can’t stop."

Caitlyn takes a deep breath, her hand reaching out to touch your shoulder delicately. "You’re not crazy," she says, locking eyes with you. "I know this is hard, that your mind doesn’t give you peace. But you don’t have to face it alone. Let me help you."

You turn to look at her, your eyes filled with desperation. "I can’t stop, Cait. If I do, I feel like everything will fall apart. I can’t control what’s happening inside my head."

Caitlyn nods slowly, her gaze unwavering from yours. "I know, darling. And I know this won’t be fixed in a day. But I’m here, and I’m going to stay by your side. We’ll face it together."

Her words anchor you, a beacon in the storm that is your mind. Slowly, almost against your will, your hands begin to lower, moving away from the glasses. The fear is still there, a current running just beneath the surface, threatening to overwhelm you, but Caitlyn is beside you, her presence a reminder that you’re not alone.

"Breathe with me," she says, her voice soft and steady. "Inhale... exhale... together."

You follow her instructions, though your lungs seem to resist, full of anxiety. Caitlyn guides you, her hand never leaving your shoulder. "See? We’re doing it! You’re doing it!" She encourages, kissing your neck when she notices you’ve looked away from the glasses for five seconds. It was only five seconds, but Caitlyn knew it was a huge accomplishment, and she celebrated it.

You let out a small sigh, the tension in your muscles easing slightly. Your hands travel to Caitlyn’s waist, moving her so the glasses are no longer in your line of sight. You let your head fall against her chest, breathing in her scent. It’s so much better, especially when you start counting the beats of her heart.

"How brave my wonderful and glorious girlfriend is. I’m so proud of you," she whispered, her fingers weaving through your hair as she praised you.

"Cait, I love you so much. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me," you whisper against her warm chest, unwilling to leave that comforting refuge.

Caitlyn chuckles softly, and it feels like music to your ears.

"I feel the same way, darling," Caitlyn replied, gently swaying your bodies from side to side in a small rhythm.

You know that your compulsions won’t disappear, that the need for control will remain, but with Caitlyn, you feel like you can face it one day at a time.

Jayce Narcissistic Personality Disorder

The mirror in your room is your judge, jury, and executioner. Every imperfection is a sentence, every flaw a conviction. You spend hours in front of it, adjusting, retouching, trying to reach a perfection that always seems to slip through your fingers. Your heart beats fast, not from excitement, but from the constant fear that the world will see the cracks beneath your flawless facade.

Jayce enters quietly, his presence comforting and, at the same time, a threat. What will he think? Does he notice the imperfections you see? He steps closer, his gaze soft, but you feel the weight of his eyes as if he's scrutinizing every flaw.

"Love, it's late. Come to bed," he says in a calm voice, trying to distract you from your self-destructive spiral.

"Just one more moment," you reply without looking at him, your focus still on the mirror, searching for symmetry in your features, perfection in the unattainable.

Jayce sits on the edge of the bed, watching you. "You've been here for hours. You don't have to do this. You're beautiful just as you are."

His statement, though well-intentioned, feels like a white lie. "You don’t understand, Jayce," you murmur, your voice trembling with suppressed frustration. "If I’m not perfect, I’m nobody. I can’t let them see my flaws. I can't let… you see them."

Jayce stands, walking toward you carefully, as if approaching a flickering flame. "You don’t have to be perfect to be loved," he says, his words a whisper in the storm raging in your mind. "You don’t have to prove anything to anyone, least of all to me."

Your gaze finally meets his through the reflection. Tears fight their way out, but you can't allow such weakness. "It's not that simple," you whisper. "Every day, every look, every word, it’s all a test. And if I fail…"

Jayce places his hands on your shoulders, his eyes filled with compassion and infinite patience. "If you fail, I’ll be here to lift you up."

"And what if I’m not enough?" The question slips out before you can stop it, the insecurity behind your narcissism showing in all its rawness. "What if one day you realize you deserve something better?"

Jayce leans in, his forehead touching yours, a gesture so intimate it almost breaks you. "I deserve someone who loves me for who I am, not for what I pretend to be. And that’s exactly what you are to me. I don’t have impossible expectations of you. I just want you to be happy, to find peace in who you are."

The internal struggle within you is fierce. The fear of rejection, the desire for perfection, the need to be seen and admired, all mix together in a whirlwind that consumes you. But in Jayce's arms, for a moment, the noise silences. His love is not a chain, but a refuge, one that offers rest if only you can let yourself fall into it.

"How can you be so sure?" you ask, your voice broken but curious.

"Because I love you," he answers without hesitation. "And love isn’t about waiting for perfection. It’s about accepting every part of you, even the ones you think are flaws."

The tears finally make their way out, releasing something within you that has been held back for so long. Jayce holds you as you cry, whispering words of comfort, letting all the pressure, fear, and anguish flow out of you.

"You’re perfect," you whisper, your voice cracked but full of sincerity. In your mind, Jayce is the epitome of everything you don’t believe you are: strong, confident, unshakable.

Jayce smiles softly, his hand caressing your cheek, wiping away the tears still falling. "No, I’m just a man in love. A man who loves you madly." His voice is warm, filled with a tenderness that disarms you. "Why don’t you show me that precious smile of yours? Please, it would make me so happy."

His sweet words touch your heart, and the corners of your lips stretch on their own, forming a sad smile.

"Gorgeous," Jayce murmured, caressing your lips with his strong, calloused fingers.

"Flatterer," you reply with a more elaborate smile, your eyes still wet, but now with a different shine, one that reflects the spark of hope he’s ignited in you.

"I’m just stating facts. I’m a scientist, honey, so I can tell you that, from my perspective, it’s scientifically proven that you’re gorgeous," he commented wryly, a wit that made you laugh.

Jayce smiled and kissed your forehead, holding you firmly in his arms. Finally, you feel like you can breathe, like air is filling your lungs again without that constant weight on your chest.

Ekko Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD)

The room is silent except for the soft hum of music playing in the background, but your mind cannot stop racing. Your thoughts scatter like arrows shot in every direction. You try to focus on something, anything, but it feels as though your brain is in a constant battle between the ideas that come and go. The light from the lamp flickers irregularly, and for a moment, you wonder if the bulb is about to explode. This makes no sense, you know that, but the unease lingers.

You quickly get up from the bed, taking a misstep, tripping over a chair you hadn’t seen, barely avoiding it. Your heart races. Everything is a series of chaotic jumps in your head, an endless torrent of thoughts that can’t follow a single path. You look at the desk, with papers scattered about—unfinished projects, ideas you can’t ground. Everything calls to you, but you can’t focus on anything.

Your hands tremble slightly as you grab the pen and begin to write down an idea that came to you, but before you finish the sentence, a new image flashes in your mind. You stop, leaving the pen on the desk and staring out the window. Something about the glow of the stars makes you think of something else. You can’t concentrate. Everything distracts you, even the small noises you used to never notice. It’s so annoying.

Suddenly, you feel the stress begin to accumulate in your shoulders. It’s not just the lack of concentration; it’s the sense of constantly running toward something without ever arriving. You try to finish a task, but more and more thoughts pile up, projects, things that need doing. Everything seems urgent, and nothing seems possible to complete. Anxiety settles in your chest.

You’re about to get up again when you hear the sound of the door opening behind you. Ekko enters the room, his calming presence is the only thing that makes you stop for a moment. He watches you in silence for a few seconds, noticing the frenzy of your movements. You hadn’t realized, but your breathing is irregular, and you’ve gotten up twice without purpose. Something isn’t right.

He watches you quietly, understanding the internal struggle you’re facing. He knows what this means, what it costs you every day.

“What’s going on? Why are you so worked up?” he asks, his voice soft but with enough authority to make you stop and listen.

Your eyes focus on a fixed point, but you can’t find the words to explain what you’re feeling. You don’t know how to put into words what’s happening. It’s like you’re trapped in a cycle of thoughts that never stop.

“My mind... it doesn’t stop moving,” you finally manage to say, almost in a whisper. “Every time I try to do something, it’s like something else distracts me. Nothing stays. Everything slips away.”

Ekko watches you silently for a moment, understanding the fight you’re facing. He knows exactly what this feels like.

“I get it, babe,” he responds, his tone firm but gentle. “I know your mind’s all over the place right now, but I promise we can do this one step at a time. We’ll focus on one thing at a time, no pressure. Sound good?”

The fact that Ekko is offering to be there, without judgment, brings you relief. You know that the impulsiveness you feel, the urge to move without a plan, is something that consumes you. Your mind jumps from one thought to another, and each of those thoughts feels like an urgent need, an immediate necessity. But at the same time, nothing makes sense. Everything is scattered and out of control.

“It’s just that...” your words fade into the air, unable to be completed. You feel trapped in your own body, in your own brain. You can’t stop, but you can’t move forward either.

Ekko gently places a hand on your shoulder, his touch calming. “How can we start?” he asks sincerely, not rushing you. “Tell me what you need.”

For a moment, everything seems to stop. The flood of thoughts quiets down, and for the first time in a long while, you can think clearly, even if it’s just for an instant. It’s not about having everything figured out right away; it’s about feeling that someone is there, willing to stand by you while you navigate through the mental whirlwind.

“I just... I don’t know how to do it without jumping from one thing to another,” you murmur, frustration and shame creeping into your voice. “I feel like everything’s overwhelming, and I can’t focus on anything.”

“We’ll take it slow,” Ekko replies, his tone calm and direct. “First, breathe. The first step is to breathe, and then we can start with just one thing. The rest can wait.”

You close your eyes for a moment and follow his words. You breathe deeply, slowly, trying to find the balance that always seems so hard to reach. Ekko is there, not rushing you, waiting for your mind to settle. With his help, little by little, you manage to focus on one small task, one that’s manageable enough not to overwhelm you. It’s just one step, but it’s a step toward calm.

“You don’t have to do it all right now,” Ekko says softly. “What matters is that you’re not alone in this. We’ll go step by step.”

You feel the knot in your stomach loosening, even though there’s still much to do. But at this moment, with him by your side, you realize that maybe, just maybe, you can find a way toward a little peace.

After hours of work and soft laughter, you’re sitting on the floor, with Ekko beside you, both looking at the pieces left to place in a puzzle. It’s almost complete, the pieces fitting perfectly, and though the hours have flown by, you feel lighter, the atmosphere quieter.

“One more,” Ekko says with a smile, holding up a piece in the air. He passes it to you, and together, you place it in its spot, completing the picture. The puzzle is done, and though it’s a small accomplishment, it feels more meaningful than it seems. Not just because of what you’ve completed, but because you’ve managed to feel centered, accompanied.

When you look at the drawing you had left unfinished, now finally complete, you feel a deep sense of satisfaction. Ekko helped bring to life the image that only existed in your mind, his hands working alongside yours, following every line with care.

“You did it,” Ekko says, his eyes shining with pride. “My girl is incredible.” He pulled you into his lap and kissed your forehead.

You look at him, your heart beating a little faster. The fatigue of the afternoon washes over you, but you don’t care. All that matters is that he’s here, by your side, and that, for once, you feel at peace. The air feels lighter, as if the space between you two has been reduced, softened by the stillness of the moment.

“Thank you,” you murmur, your words barely a whisper, but full of gratitude.

Ekko turns toward you, his expression softening. “Don’t thank me. Thank yourself. You’re the one who made it happen, not me.”

The way he looks at you, the way his presence has become part of your space, makes you smile. And, in a moment of impulse, without thinking too much about it, you move a little closer. He seems to understand it instantly, and before you can second-guess yourself, his lips brush against yours. It’s a soft kiss, no rush, no urgency, just a moment where words aren’t needed.

When you pull away, both of you stay there, looking at each other, the air between you charged with something that doesn’t need to be named. Ekko smiles, his eyes sparkling with that glint that makes you feel as though everything is right, as if the world, for a moment, is in its place.

“Everything’s okay now,” Ekko says softly, filling you with calm.

And in that instant, you believe him.

Silco Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD)

The air in Silco's office is thick with tension, as always. The sound of the bustling city echoes through the glass windows, but inside, everything is still, almost as rigid as the gaze Silco fixes on you. You're sitting across from him, feeling a familiar dizziness, as if everything is out of control and, at the same time, you're trapped in an empty space. A mix of confusion and anxiety courses through every fiber of your being.

Your hands tremble slightly, and although you try to control your breathing, each inhalation seems to sink you further into the internal chaos. The voices in your head blend together, demanding answers, claiming something you can't give. Silco watches you calmly, but it's a cold, calculated calm, as if everything that's going on inside you is a game he knows how to play.

You feel the emptiness consuming you, and yet an unbearable pressure weighs on your chest. Your mind betrays you, throwing destructive thoughts at you, telling you you're worthless, that everything you do is doomed to fail. The contradiction is overwhelming: on one hand, you feel lost, and on the other, you refuse to give in to the feeling of helplessness.

"Are you alright?" Silco asks, his voice low and steady, but there's a slight intensity in his tone. He doesn't break eye contact, as if he's evaluating every micro-expression on your face, every movement. He knows you're not, but still, he asks. Is it a test? A need to know how far you can go? The silence stretches on, and your thoughts only intensify.

The urge to stand up and run from it all is strong. Everything in you screams to follow your impulses, to escape, to flee from the overwhelming weight of it all. But you stay there, because something in you knows that running will only plunge you deeper into the darkness you're feeling inside. You see yourself fighting, trying to maintain control, but every second makes you feel more lost.

"I'm sorry... I don't know what's happening to me," you whisper, your voice broken, struggling against the avalanche of emotions threatening to drown you. You feel the tears pressing behind your eyes, but you force yourself to keep composure. "It's just... it's all so intense. So confusing."

Silco keeps watching you in silence. There's no judgment in his gaze, only a calculated assessment, as if he's reading between the lines of your suffering. After a long moment, he sighs and stands up from his chair, approaching you slowly. It's not a sudden gesture, but calm, as if he's used to dealing with people who struggle with their own minds. He says nothing, but his presence is the only thing anchoring you in this moment.

With one hand, he takes yours. The contact is firm, but not aggressive, as if he's giving you space to breathe, but also space to not escape. In his eyes, something changes. There's an understanding that you can't fully decipher, but it fills you with a strange sensation, like, for the first time in a long time, you're not alone in the storm raging inside you.

"Your mind is betraying you," Silco says calmly, his voice soft but full of an authority that makes you feel that everything happening has a purpose. "It's an enemy that everyone must face at some point. But you don't have to face it alone."

The words fall on you like a stone, but strangely, they allow you to relax, even if only for a moment. The internal chaos you've always felt halts for an instant. And in that silence, you're finally able to breathe.

"All of this... this emptiness, the feeling that nothing matters, it's not your fault," Silco continues, his tone firm, though not without a strange gentleness. "It's just a phase, a moment that will pass. But you need to control it. Not let it take over you."

You feel vulnerable, but at the same time, a part of you relaxes in his closeness. Silco doesn't tell you that it's okay, nor does he promise easy solutions. He speaks to you with reality, with that harshness that you know comes from someone who understands suffering, but who doesn't have time to sugarcoat the truth.

"What you're feeling is real, but it's also transient. Not everything is as final as you think," he adds, his gaze fixed on yours with intensity. "You can be stronger than this."

The words resonate in your mind as you take a deep breath. You don't know if you fully believe them, but for some reason, in this moment, the darkness feels less imposing. You're not completely free of it, but at least you feel you're not entirely alone. Silco is here, firm and without judgment, waiting for you to take control of your own mind, without expecting you to do it immediately, but giving you the possibility to believe that you'll manage.

The pressure in your chest doesn't disappear completely, but a small crack of calm starts to open within you. And though you know your inner struggles won't end immediately, for the first time in a long while, you don't feel as lost. Silco looks at you one last time, without haste, but with a silent certainty.

"When you're ready, you can get out of this. I'll be here."

You're surprised by how firm his voice sounds, as if, by saying it, he's committed to being a constant presence. And although you don't fully understand how he does it, you realize that, in this moment, his steadiness helps you more than any empty words of comfort.

The world continues around you, but somehow, Silco has given you the strength to face it.

The silence between you and Silco lingers for a moment, but it's no longer the same silence as before. There's a strange peace, almost comforting, in the way he holds you, in the closeness you now feel between you both. The contact of his hand, firm and steady, gives you an anchor amidst the storm that still rages inside you.

A sigh escapes your lips without you noticing, and for a moment, it's not one of despair, but of relief. Silco, still keeping his gaze fixed on you, takes one more step closer. It's not a quick or rushed step, but a calculated one, as if he's sure that, in this moment, the only thing you need is that closeness, that calm presence.

Without saying anything, his fingers gently caress your cheek, a soft gesture that cuts through you. There's a tenderness in his movements that you hadn't anticipated, something that seems in complete contradiction with the person you know, but that, in this moment, comforts you more than any words. You feel vulnerable, but you don't fear it, not now.

Your breathing gradually calms, and Silco, silently, moves a little closer, so close that you can feel the warmth of his body. The space between you is almost nonexistent now, and you can feel his breath in rhythm with yours. There's something in his presence that soothes you, that gives you the feeling that everything will be okay, even though it still feels hard to believe.

Finally, his lips come close to yours with an unexpected softness. It's not a hasty or desperate kiss, but something slower, more measured. The brush of his lips against yours is so gentle that it surprises you, as if he's waiting for you to accept it, for you to be ready. And you are. Though your mind is still filled with doubts and fears, something inside you tells you that this is the moment you can allow yourself to be vulnerable, that you can receive something that won't hurt you.

The kiss deepens slowly, and in that instant, the world seems to fade away around you. All that remains is the warmth of his body, the firmness of his arms around you, and the gentle contact of his lips, like a silent promise that, even though the future is uncertain, for a moment, everything is alright.

When you finally pull away, no words are needed. Silco looks at you with an intensity you've never seen before, but in his eyes, there's something more, something you can't describe, something that makes you feel that, despite everything you've been through, you're not alone.

"I told you you were strong," he whispers, his voice deep and soft at the same time.

And for a moment, everything seems enough.

Mel Chronic Stress Disorder

The atmosphere is thick with tension, but it's a different kind of tension. It's a quiet calm, yet at the same time, it is filled with the constant threat of what could happen. You’re there, in one of the rooms of the mansion, sitting on a chair by the window, gazing out at the illuminated city, but unable to really see anything. The world around you seems to blur, as if a layer of fog has settled over your senses, blurring every detail and leaving only the emptiness of your thoughts.

Mel, who has been watching your behavior for the past few minutes, approaches with a palpable gentleness in her movements. Her presence is firm, but not intrusive. From a distance, she’s observed how the symptoms of your chronic stress have taken over you, how anxiety and mental exhaustion have combined to make you feel beyond your limits.

She crouches slightly to be at your level, her eyes fixed on yours, searching for your attention. “I notice you’re not yourself, and I know it’s because the weight of everything has piled up,” she says in a low voice, her tone soft yet firm. “But I want you to listen. You have the right to rest. You don’t have to carry the world, not all the time.”

Despite her words, you feel a pressure in your chest that won’t ease. Everything feels too big, too heavy. Chronic stress consumes you, leaving your thoughts tangled while your body responds with a deep exhaustion that doesn’t seem to go away no matter what you do.

Mel, noticing the internal struggle that consumes you, steps closer and, without warning, places a firm hand on your shoulder. It’s not a gesture of force, but of support. A sign that she’s here, silently, but available to help you find the balance you need.

“Your body is telling you it needs to stop,” she continues, with a softness that’s hard to deny. “Those moments of despair, of exhaustion... they’re real. But you don’t have to go through it alone, no matter how much you think you can.”

The contact of her hand on you, her quiet strength, begins to offer some relief. Even though the weight still lingers, something in you relaxes. It’s as if her words offer you a rope to hold onto, something tangible in the fog that seems to surround your mind.

You lean forward, your fingers briefly touching your forehead as you try to calm the agitation still coursing through you. The stress, that constant pressure in your life, seems unwilling to let go of you, but at least in this moment, with Mel by your side, you can breathe a little more deeply.

“I’ll be here,” Mel whispers, like an unbreakable promise. “If you need to rest, I’ll help you find peace. You don’t have to go on alone.”

For the first time in a long time, you allow yourself to think that, maybe, it’s possible to let go of some of that burden. Mel’s voice, soft yet full of certainty, is a refuge in the midst of the chaos in your mind.

Mel doesn’t expect you to feel guilty for your exhaustion. She doesn’t demand that you change or “overcome” your chronic stress overnight. She only gives you space to feel what you need to feel and to acknowledge that, even though the road may be long, you don’t have to walk it alone.

When your eyes lift and meet hers, there’s something in your gaze that softens. The stress doesn’t vanish immediately, but the simple fact that someone understands you, that someone is staying with you without judging, gives you something you didn’t have before: the possibility of healing.

The silence between you both is comfortable. It’s a silence of acceptance and understanding. And as Mel remains by your side, her presence becomes something that offers comfort, not an immediate solution, but a step toward the calm you so desperately need.

After a long silence, Mel slowly approaches you, and her eyes, filled with softness and understanding, capture you. She takes your hand, with a delicacy that makes you feel lighter, as if the weight of your mind could lessen just with that contact.

“You know, right?” she whispers, her voice gentle but firm. “I’ve seen you fight, and still, you’re here, being so incredible. And to me, that’s what really matters. Not everything you’ve been through, but who you are now.”

The sparkle in her eyes makes you blush slightly, and your heart beats a little faster.

“Mel...” you whisper, barely able to find the words, feeling your nerves breaking. “I don’t know what I’d do without you…”

She smiles, moving closer. “I’m here, for whatever you need, for anything, always.”

Without saying another word, Mel gently caresses your cheek, as if every movement is a silent promise. Then, you see her lean in toward you, her face so close to yours that you can feel the brush of her breath.

“You’re my refuge, you know that, right?” Mel says, with sincerity that runs deep within you.

And without another word, her lips find yours, in a tender, almost urgent kiss, as if she wanted to convey everything she couldn’t with words. When she pulls away, her eyes shine with an unmistakable softness.

“I love you, with all my being. And that won’t change.”

You shiver slightly at her words, but instead of insecurity, you find comfort. Her eyes transmit calm to you, and for the first time, you realize that she’s willing to be the peace you so need.

Sevika Bipolar Disorder

The darkness surrounds you, but it’s not physical darkness; it’s something denser, creeping through every corner of your mind. It’s one of those days. You don’t know for sure, but you feel it deep in your gut: something has changed. There’s a void in your chest that you don’t know how to fill, and a sensation in your stomach that twists you up. You’ve been through this before. The bipolar disorder drags you, takes you as its own without warning, pushing you from one extreme to the other in a matter of hours, minutes.

You wake up feeling the weight of sadness, a sadness that feels physical, sinking you into the mattress as if the sheets were lead. You don’t want to move, think, or do anything. You just feel empty, as if all your strength has evaporated. The room seems smaller, the walls pressing in on you. Your legs don’t respond when you try to get up. A knot forms in your throat, but the tears won’t come. There’s no energy for that, just the weight of despair.

You don’t see her enter. Her presence is silent, but solid. Sevika knows something is wrong, she feels it even before you tell her. When you look at her, her expression doesn’t change, but there’s something in her eyes that makes you feel that the situation is serious. There’s no surprise, no fear, just a cold, calculating understanding. Sevika isn’t one to lose her calm easily. And that makes you even more confused, making you feel like you don’t belong in that moment, like you’re not the person she expects to see.

“What’s going on?” she asks, not softening anything. The question isn’t condescending, nor filled with concern. It’s direct, almost harsh, she doesn’t beat around the bush. She knows that, when you’re like this, empty words don’t help.

You struggle to form a response. You can’t, really. Your thoughts are tangled in an incomprehensible chaos. But she doesn’t expect you to explain anything. Sevika approaches, sits on the edge of the bed. Her gaze never leaves you, as if she’s evaluating your soul, searching for a point of vulnerability, a sign of what to do next. She has the ability to see beyond your emotions, beyond the depression that consumes you and the anxiety that makes you tremble. She knows that right now there’s nothing rational in your mind, but understanding is her only response. Patience mixes with a slight touch of toughness, as she always does with things she can’t control.

“You’re staying here. You’re not going to do anything impulsive. You’re not going to try to run out of here or make this worse,” she says with a calm coldness that leaves no room for objection. You know that, in this moment, she’s the only voice of reason you can hear.

You’re aware that Sevika is used to dealing with extreme situations, but this one is different. She watches you closely, but from a distance, as if she’s weighing the damage, calculating what she can do to keep you safe. You don’t see fear in her, but you see resolve. She doesn’t switch into “rescuer mode,” she doesn’t try to hug you or tell you that everything will be fine. What she says, she says with authority because she knows that if she gives in, chaos will take control, and everything she’s worked to keep stable will fall apart.

In the internal struggle between your broken mind and the anger that begins to build up inside of you, Sevika is the rock that keeps you from diving into the void. But she also knows she can’t ignore your emotions. Her expression hardens slightly when she realizes there’s something more going on. “I’m telling you this because you know it, not because I need to explain it to you,” she whispers, making it clear that there’s no room for games.

When you finally speak, it’s in whispers, as if your words have weight and could break you. “I don’t know what’s happening to me. I’m... I’m so tired of this constant back and forth. I can’t handle it.”

Sevika doesn’t change her posture. She doesn’t tell you that she’s going to “fix” you, nor does she try to cure you. She knows that what you have doesn’t have an easy fix, but she does have tools to deal with the situation. “You don’t need to fix anything right now. You need to rest. Let what’s going to happen, happen, but don’t make decisions you’ll regret later. Do you understand me?” her voice is firm, but underneath there’s something else, a touch of softness she rarely shows.

The air in the room is heavy, laden with the weight of your thoughts, like a fog that prevents you from seeing beyond. Sevika is there, watching you with the same intensity as always, but with an odd calm, a calm that scares you because it makes you feel like she sees it all: the chaos consuming you, the internal battle between despair and rage.

“I don’t want this to control me. I don’t want to be like this,” you murmur, the words coming out broken. You know you’re saying it more to yourself than to her, but still, the guilt pierces your chest like invisible needles. You feel like you’re not being who she expects.

Sevika stays silent for a moment, her gaze fixed on you. There’s something in her face, a line of tension in her jaw, as if she’s weighing every word before speaking. Finally, she gets a little closer, breaking the distance between your bodies.

“It’s not about what you expect from yourself. It’s about what you need right now. And what you need right now is rest, stop fighting against something you can’t control.”

Your eyes search hers, those eyes that always seem to understand more than you can verbalize. And, somehow, you feel that there’s no judgment in them, just a silent acceptance of what you’re going through. It’s strange. In the middle of the storm in your mind, Sevika gives you the feeling of being the only anchor left in your world.

Suddenly, she stretches out a hand toward you, not rushing, not in a hurry, but with the firmness that characterizes her. You take it without thinking, as if it’s the only thing that can stop the flood of erratic thoughts flooding your mind. Her touch is warm, comforting. There’s a strength in that simple gesture, something that allows you to relax, even if just for a second.

“I’m going to take care of you, understand?” she whispers, her voice low, barely a breath. There are no empty promises in her words, just a statement of fact. But in her tone, you find a softness that she rarely shows. It’s like, for a brief moment, her heart opens a little more, even if she doesn’t fully recognize it.

The moment stretches on, and even though the storm in your mind hasn’t ceased, there’s something in you that feels a little lighter. Sevika doesn’t have the solution to your pain, but her presence, her closeness, gives you a peace you never even imagined.

Without thinking, you move a little closer to her, seeking that warmth. Her fingers interlace with yours, and for the first time all day, you don’t feel completely broken. Sevika has never promised you a happy ending, but in this moment, you don’t need one. The simple fact of being here, of having her close, gives you a reason to keep going, even if just for a little while longer.

“I love you,” you say without thinking, and the words come out with a clarity that surprises you. It’s not a grand declaration, it’s not a promise that everything will be okay, but it’s something real, something you never thought you could say to anyone before.

“I love you too, doll,” she responds with a half-smile, though her eyes seem softer than ever. And, for a second, the world seems to stop. The anxiety, the disorder in your head, dissipate, if only for a brief moment.

She leans in a little toward you, and in that instant, all that matters is the touch of her lips on your forehead, a simple gesture but filled with affection. The silence between you both is comfortable, no pressure, just the comfort of being together, knowing that, even if the world around you falls apart, Sevika will be the one to keep you steady.

[gardens-light]

I always look forward to seeing these types of posts on my feed, as it gets me thinking about what writing goals I'd like to achieve or set. As well as, see the goals/accomplishments of other fellow writes.

My answers are below, and keep reblogging with yours. :)

💖 Might be a tad small, but I'd like to achieve at least 50 fanfics by the end of this year. Weather they're requests/prompts or ideas of my own.

🛳 Maybe dive more into platonic ships. As I do favourite romance.

🤔 I would like to write one shots/series for under rated characters. Such as Crosshairs, Hound, Bulkhead (and more) from Transformers, Abe Sapien from Hellboy, etc.

🥸 My sister knows, and has read a couple of mine. As we often share ideas, inspiration, character/fandom ideas etc, since she also writes fanfics. My husband is aware that I write fanfics, but he doesn't quite know exactly what kind of things I write. But I don't plan on telling anyone else.

🥵 100% yes.

👻 Maybe more in depth the with action genre. And step out of my comfort zone by exploring horror or dark elements.

🦄 I do prefer 2nd person. But might write a fic in 1st or 3rd.

🐌 May not be writing goals exactly. But organizing my drafts better, as there has been a few fics that sat there for months collecting dust.

🦖 I'd like to get back into Hellboy, as I realize that I abandoned a series idea years ago. And my attempt at it really needs to be re-written, as I don't like how it sounds anymore. I might also do more anime fandoms, but the faze tends to come and go for me.

🍄 DC Comics/Universe. Although I'm mainly a Marvel fan, there has been a few ideas I've had, that would better suit DC characters.

🌈 It may not be research, but I do tend to read a few fanfics or orgianal fics of fandoms I'm new/returning to. As well as, binge watching TV/movies of that character/fandom.

But I also do research on writing. (Sub-genres/plots. Kinks/fetishes. Cliches. Building motivation, organization, writing goals. etc.)

✨ I'd say my use of deceptive language and onomatopoeias. And how I try to use other writing techniques to immerse readers that little more.

🥕 Certainly my grammar, as I've noticed a few spelling mistakes over the time. And my sense of scale and anatomy, I appreciate people telling me how way off I've been in my past fics and how it affected their reading experience.

🫘 I'm actually planning on writing a young adult, fantasy novel with OCs. And I've recently started up on Fiverr for writing commissions.

🥳 I'd probably just give myself a cheat day from my diet and exercise. Or buy that thing I've been eyeing up for ages.

🎃 I've actually been meaning to write seasonal fics. But the time I have a moment to write, or the idea comes to me, the season's over. But certainly gonna try and give those ago this year.

🐾 Another thing that's been on my 'To Do List' for a while, and would like to try to participate at least one or two this year.

✍️ Honestly it would have to be comments. Not the amount of comments, but just comments in general- even if it's just one or two. As that's the main way people have given me valuable feedback, and it helps me grow to be better writer.

👾 I'm honestly not sure what 'bad' writing habits, that I may have. There's bound to be a good few that I don't notice, and would try and break them if they're pointed out to me.

🤖 I mainly use my laptop or phone for writing for convenience. As I do tend to do a bit of writing on my breaks at work, but I suppose having an area dedicated to me writing at home wouldn't be too bad.

🦷 I'm currently working on two different series for the Transformers fandom. One is for the character Knockout in TFP, I love this character and have many ideas for the series, but he's mainly seen as asexual in the fandom. I agree and respect the views of this character, but since I don't really have anyone in my friends/family that identifies as asexual, I'm honestly worried I may accidentally misrepresent the character and/or those who identifies as such.

💥 I have an idea for a one shot for The Joker from DC- Suicide Squad. As the one-shot I've got planned is an semi original idea, and many dark elements that would challenge me, and get me out of my comfort zone.

🍕 Due to my part time job, and personal commitments. I do only write/post things whenever I have a free moment to dedicate an hour or two to this hobby. But I'd would like to try and post more per month, but also not to flood anyone's feed.

🛏 I'm sure there's a few tropes/cliches that I've already written for. But I'd like to write 'bed one' or 'cuddle for warmth' cliche, as they're surprisingly the ones I don't write about. Yet they're my favourite.

🪩 Might be a little controversial, but don't be afraid to give your reader a nickname or codename in your fics. For example, in my Transformer fics, Reader is an military officer so they have an nickname such as 'Lieutenant Echo' or 'Private Valkyrie.' As to me, these give the Reader a little more depth and personality to their character, and doesn't take them out of the reading experience by reading 'Y/N' over and over.

🎉 In all honesty? Probably not, as just like anyone. I'm my own worst critic.

💌 Yep! Those sort of things keeps my motivation going, and gets me out of writer's block sometimes.

Writer Goal Ask List for a New Year 🎉

These writer asks are always so fun to both ask and answer. Fanfic or original fiction writers, reblog away! These are asks based in new goals for a new year.

💖 What is your primary writing goal for this year?

🛳 Are there any new ships you want to write for? (Platonic, romantic, or anything in between.)

🤔 Are there any new characters you want to write about?

🥸 Does anyone in IRL know you write fanfic or original fiction? If not, do you plan on telling anyone this year?

🥵 Any plans to write steamy or spicy content this year?

👻 Is there a new genre you'd like to write?

🦄 Is there a new POV you'd like to try writing?

🐌 What is one of your smallest writing goals?

🦖 Are there any fandoms you wrote for in the past that you'd like to return to?

🍄 Are there any fandoms you've never written for but want to try?

🌈 What research do you plan on doing for your writing?

✨What's one area of your writing that you think needs the least amount of improvement?

🥕 What's one area of your writing that you think needs the most amount of improvement?

🫘 Spill the beans. What's a new project you're doing this year?

🥳 How are you going to celebrate when you achieve one of your writing goals?

🎃 Do you plan on writing any seasonal fics?

🐾 Do you plan on writing for any fests or competitions?

✍️ Which stat matters most to you (if at all!): subscriptions, kudos/favorites, comments, bookmarks, word count, or hits?

👾 Do you have any "bad" writing habits you want to break?

🤖 Are you looking to change your current writing setup? (Or establish one, if you don't have one?)

🦷 Is there a chapter, scene, or WIP you're dreading to write (but is necessary to your plot)? Share a snippet or tell us about it!

💥Is there a chapter, scene, or WIP you're most excited to write? Share a snippet or tell us about it!

🍕Will you be making any changes to your posting schedule (if you have one)? (Or do you want to establish a posting schedule?)

🛏 Is there a new trope you'd like to write this year?

🪩 Do you have any "good" writing habits you want to cultivate?

🎉 How are you going to be kind to yourself if you don't meet your goals?

💌 Are you willing to take requests or prompts for writing?

[bangtan-junkie]

Dissonance (Part 2) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (f)

Part 1, Part 2

Genre/Tags: coworker!JK, enemies to lovers, smutttttt, slow burn (ish?), ANGST

Word Count: 6799 words

Synopsis:

After being left alone and humiliated on the floor of a dirty bar bathroom by Jungkook, you had to pick yourself up off the ground (literally). You had to get even, embarrass him like he'd done to you. Maybe you were mean to him before, but you were about to become a nightmare to humble this man. Unfortunately for you, your anger was short sighted, while Jungkook's wasn't. So you never predicted how your plans might backfire on you...

Note:

it's finally fucking here omg. ik it's super late but i'm finally decently satisfied with this. i'm looking forward to writing part 3 bc that's where the tension finally breaks and y'all aren't even ready for the revenge y/n gets lol. i hope y'all enjoy this and it lives up to part 1! i'd love to know your thoughts, if you're still pissed with jk lol, and any suggestions or requests are always welcome! chatting with you guys is my fav part <3

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Dread consumed your senses from the moment you woke up. The weekend had passed, but your chest still burned with rage at the thought of having to see Jungkook again. You hadn't even noticed the time go by over the last two days, too busy seething in your own anger. If you hated Jungkook before, you loathed him now. You forced composure as you got dressed for work. Jungkook already had the upper hand when he'd left you in the bar bathroom. He knew that you'd seen him with the girl afterwards too. You couldn't even think about whether he'd went home with her that night without being sick. After all that, the last thing you wanted was for him to think he had any kind of effect on you. You were going to go back to work with pride and confidence. At least you wanted to.

When you finally got to work, you made a beeline for your desk, pointedly not looking for Jungkook. As you settled in, one of your coworkers stopped by your desk.

"Oh hey Y/n, you feeling any better?" he asked. Your head whipped up, a gentle voice ripping you away from your resentful thoughts. You looked up at him in confusion, eyes settling on his red hair. "From Friday? You left early because you weren't feeling well?"

"Oh, right," you cleared your throat. Just then, you saw Jungkook's unmistakable figure from the corner of your eye. He was talking to someone but you could feel his eyes boring into you. Your blood began to boil but you forced yourself to stay calm. You refused to indulge him at all. "I'm feeling much better actually, thanks Jimin," you replied, shooting your coworker a sweet smile. Jimin was your acquaintance in the office; someone you could actually stand in that place. He was always kind and helpful which automatically made him better than 70% of the people there. Even though you hung out in the same circles, you never really became close friends. Probably because you were always more focused on how annoying Jungkook was whenever you were out. And you were doing it again. You made conversation to force any thoughts of him out of your mind.

"How does your hair seem more red every time I see you?" you asked with a light-hearted laugh.

"I can't be caught slacking. I put in a lot of work to keep this hair ya know," he smiled back at you.

"I still don't know how you got permission from the boss for that," you gestured to his hair. "I asked before and she shut me down so fast." Jimin laughed at the annoyed expression on your face, finding it endearing.

"I guess I'm just that charming," he shrugged, holding back a chuckle. You couldn't help but snicker. Jimin's jokes weren't that different from Jungkook's, but he wasn't obnoxious about it. Jungkook obviously believed his jokes and thought he was god's gift to the world, which made him insufferable. Jimin, on the other hand, didn't take his jokes too seriously and wasn't constantly flirting with anything that moved.

Jungkook, who was barely listening to the person talking to him, had heard your exchange with Jimin. He felt annoyance build in his chest. He knew that if he'd made the same joke, you would've been rolling your eyes and making fun of him. So why were you giggling when Jimin said it? He tried to distract himself by trying to focus on the conversation he was supposed to be having.

A quick chat with Jimin later, you turned back to your desk. You made the mistake of looking up and caught Jungkook's gaze. He looked at you, an indifferent look on his face. He wasn't sure what he was expecting; maybe you'd look away in embarrassment, maybe you'd glare at him angrily. But what he didn't expect was the cold, empty look you gave him - like you were looking right through him, like he wasn't even there. His brows furrowed for a quick second, even more annoyed now. You went right back to work.

That's how the next few days went by. Every time Jungkook was remotely in your vicinity, you'd look through him without ever acknowledging him. If he even tried to walk your way, you left the room immediately. At first, Jungkook thought you were just being childish. But when you regained your confidence after a few days, he knew that you weren't through with him just yet. If he thought your insults were bad before, the newfound loathing you had for him made things ten times worse. It started with you amplifying the spite in your voice when you insulted him for his work. You refused to speak with him directly either, so all the insults were being thrown indirectly and in front of your other coworkers. With every second this continued, Jungkook felt his patience running thin. But if you were stubborn, so was he. He kept up your little game by firing back with his usual sarcastic or flirty remarks. Internally, he was burning with fury, just like you wanted him to.

All the animosity and anger eventually came to its boiling point when you crossed the line for the last time. You had walked to your desk that morning to find that your boss had paired you and Jungkook on the next project. Your skin crawled at the idea of having to work with him over the next few weeks. Part of you wondered if Jungkook had something to do with this. Thinking about him getting your boss on board with making you his partner for this big project was only adding to the fire that was spreading through your body. You already hated the way your boss melted around him, but to think that he could manipulate her to this level? After spiraling for a few minutes, you forced yourself to take deep breaths. You had to remind yourself that you were jumping to conclusions and then convince yourself not to march over to Jungkook's desk and give him a piece of your mind. You tried to get back to work, but all you could think about were what reasonable excuses you could make to get out of this situation. The rest of your morning was spent racking your mind. With no luck, you decided to join your coworkers for lunch; hoping that it would give you a distraction.

Unluckily for you, Jungkook walked into the staff lunchroom soon after, only to find you and some of your other coworkers chatting around the coffee machine. Well, they were chatting and you were busy glaring him down from the second he stepped into the room. Your dark eyes peered at him over the rim of your mug as you sipped your coffee. You knew that there was no way in hell he was going to approach you to talk about this. The solution to your problem practically fell into your lap when you zoned back in to the conversation around you. If he really did get the boss to put you on the project with him, you'd make him regret that decision.

"I can't believe you got that huge project Y/n! You're so lucky," one of them said, playfully pouting.

"Talk about lucky," someone else chimed in, "You even get to work with Jungkook. But I guess that isn't so lucky for you." They laughed lightly, poking fun at you. Clearly they hadn't noticed that Jungkook was in the room, listening.

"Everyone here knows how much you hate him, even the boss. Really, what was she thinking pairing you guys up?" They continued to laugh at your misery. But you weren't annoyed. Instead, your mind lit up with the perfect way to get under Jungkook's skin in that moment. The second he saw the way your eyes lit up, he knew he was in for it. Jungkook prided himself on the fact that everyone liked him and thought highly of him. So what better way to get your revenge and get him to kick you off the project than to take that away from him?

"Yeah," you said skeptically, "She's never paired us up before." You continued to stare directly at Jungkook. Your coworkers looked at you with confusion and amusement.

"What changed this time?" Jimin's voice rang through the room as he walked in to join you. He'd already spotted Jungkook in the other corner of the room, and he saw the dark glint in your eyes. It was clear to him that you were up to something. So he helped you out by stirring the pot a little. Jungkook squinted his eyes at you, annoyed at seeing Jimin again and wondering where you were going with this.

"I think Jungkook really wanted this project," you answered. "And it's easy to get whatever you want when you're fucking the boss," you said, not breaking eye contact for a second. Gasps erupted across the circle as they all looked at you in disbelief. Jimin's brows raised and he scoffed, slightly taken aback that you were making that accusation. But you were more focused on Jungkook's reaction. The look on his face was beyond furious. His eyes darkened and you saw the tick in his jaw as he clenched it.

"Wait, you really think so?" one of them asked, everyone already engrossed in the gossip.

"He is a manwhore," you shrugged. Jimin stifled his laugh, not wanting to be too mean to Jungkook. You finally looked away from Jungkook and back at the group. "And he always gets the good projects. Boss doesn't favour anyone else like that." Your coworkers immediately started gossiping amongst themselves, making random connections because what you said made sense. Some of them already started getting riled up, thinking that their opportunities had been snatched by Jungkook through the boss. You obviously didn't know for sure whether Jungkook was sleeping with your boss or not. But you didn't have to. You just had to plant the idea and you knew your coworkers would jump to conclusions.

"You must be really pissed at him," Jimin whispered, leaning back against the counter. You felt Jungkook's eyes glaring daggers at you but you paid him no attention.

"I promise he had it coming," you whispered back, a devious smirk settling on your lips.

"Remind me to never get on your bad side," he chuckled. You just shot him a smirk. When you glanced back at Jungkook, you barely caught him walking out the door. You didn't know what you were expecting. Maybe you wanted him to lose his shit in front of everyone, or yank you out of the room with him. So the disappointment you felt only annoyed you more. By the time you finished your lunch and made your way back to your desk, you already began hearing whispers about Jungkook and your boss. For a moment, you wondered if this was crossing the line. Definitely. But so was getting you to blow him and ditching you in that bathroom. Now you're even. You couldn't help but smile, knowing that he must be seething about the rumours.

A couple hours later, you were being called to your boss' office to discuss the new project she'd assigned you and Jungkook. You reluctantly grabbed your things and made your way there. You couldn't keep in your scoff when you saw Jungkook already there, making your boss giggle about god knows what. Your boss cleared her throat as she noticed you in the doorway, peeling herself off her desk from how far she was leaning forward towards Jungkook. You fought the urge to roll your eyes. Way to be subtle.

"Y/n," she announced, "Come, sit down." You forced a smile as you sat down in the chair next to Jungkook. He didn't say anything to you, didn't even bother looking at you. Just being in his proximity was pissing you off, especially since he had nothing to say to you. Obviously he couldn't say anything in front of the boss, but you wanted to see that you'd made him just as angry as he'd made you. Maybe all this rage was clouding your mind and judgement...but who cares?

You pulled out your pen and began taking notes as she started talking about the project. Despite hating working with Jungkook, you weren't going to let that ruin your work on this project. You rolled your eyes when you saw that he wasn't taking notes at all. Of course. As your boss began wrapping up the conversation, you gathered your things again, getting up to leave.

"Listen you two," she started, her tone changing. You raised your brows and sat down, curious what she had to say. "I know you don't like working together, but this is an important project. So please, put your feelings aside and work on this together." You scoffed, forgetting to keep your composure. That's when Jungkook finally looked at you. His eyes were fiery but he looked vaguely amused that you had the courage to scoff at the boss. Your boss was also looking at you expectantly, waiting for an explanation. That was all you needed to decide that maybe you weren't even with him just yet.

"Sorry, but it's not about feelings. Our work ethics don't match. I'd rather work on this alone," you said, straightening your back as you felt like you were in the spotlight. Your boss didn't look too happy.

"This isn't a one person project Y/n," she pointed out.

"I know, but it would honestly be easier to do the work myself instead of having to chase him around, begging him to get anything done." The amusement quickly disappeared from Jungkook's face.

"Excuse me?" he finally spoke. You ignored him.

"Maybe we can switch him out for someone who's actually focused on their work instead of flirting," you boldly stated. Your boss scoffed in disbelief.

"What is your problem? Do you think I want to work with you?" Jungkook spat, just about done with your shit. He shifted in his chair to face you, one hand gripping the armrest hard enough to see the whites of his knuckles. Oh now he had something to say.

"You're lucky to be working on this with me. Or else this project would've gone to shit," you retorted with an equal amount of spite.

"There's a reason I'm on this project Y/n. Because I'm good at my job. So if you're letting your personal feelings affect your professionalism, you need to get a grip." His words stung but you refused to accept that there was some truth to them. He was giving you a taste of your own medicine; humiliating you in front of your boss like you were doing to him. All your self control and common sense went out the window when you felt that embarrassment.

"Yeah, that's why you're on this project," you said sarcastically, referring to the rumour you'd started a few short hours ago. You could practically see his nostrils flare as he willed himself to keep his mouth shut.

"You're out of line Y/n," your boss jumped in. She hadn't heard the rumours yet, but she could clearly see that Jungkook didn't like the implications of what you had said. "I don't care whether you two like each other or not. You will put aside...whatever this is...and work together on this, and that's final," she said firmly. Irritation coursed through you, seeing her take Jungkook's side yet again.

"Yes ma'am," you barely grit through your teeth. You'd be darned if you got fired over Jungkook. You quickly stood up and left, rushing to the file room for a moment to cool down. It was the only place you could get some silence - no one ever really stepped into the filing room because most of your work was stored digitally anyways. You pressed your back to one of the metal cabinets, sliding down to crouch as the door slowly shut. You took some deep breaths to calm down. If you went back out there now, you would rip someone's head off. How did Jungkook have the audacity to continue being a dick to you? You knew you'd without a doubt crossed the line back there, but despite that, you didn't feel even with him yet. After a few moments of dragging your mind away from these thoughts, you took one last deep breath and stood back up. You straightened your skirt and fixed your hair. Since you were already there, you decided to grab some files you needed for the project before going back out there. You turned around, pulling a drawer open and digging through the files before you found them. Just as you pulled them out, you heard the door open behind you. You already knew who it was, getting a waft of his cologne. Your heart already began beating faster, not knowing what to anticipate. There was a beat of silence as the door slowly shut.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Jungkook grit through his teeth, trying to keep his voice down. You didn't bother turning around or replying to him. Any semblance of self control he had left snapped when you didn't even acknowledge him. With three quick strides, he was right behind you, pressing you face flat against the cabinets. He yanked one of your hands behind your back, making you drop your files. You yelped as his entire body caged you in, slight panic rising in your chest.

"You don't get to ignore me now," he snapped, voice low. "You haven't shut the fuck up for the last few days, don't start now." He yanked your arm down further so he could hold your wrist with one hand. You groaned at the ache, but decided against complaining about it. His anger was palpable; you could practically feel it seeping through your skin, igniting your own fury. In the shock of the moment, you'd almost forgotten that Jungkook wasn't the only one with reason to be upset. This was all a consequence of his insanely disrespectful behaviour, and he had the nerve to be mad at you now?

"What is it? What's got you so fucking riled up, hmm?" He sounded bewildered, gritting the words through his teeth. The more he pressed against you, the harder it got to ignore the heat building in you. An ugly satisfaction was creeping through you seeing the way you'd managed to get under his skin. This was what you wanted; to see that you'd affected him.

"Didn't get enough cock last time? That it?" he growled, bending down next to your ear. His words pierced right through you, as if he knew exactly which buttons to press.

"Fuck you," you spat before you could compose yourself. You strained in his hold, your arm coming up to elbow him in the ribs. To your dismay, Jungkook predicted your move and held you tighter, keeping you still.

"I thought it'd be enough to keep you satiated for at least a week. But you're just a cock hungry whore hm? " he taunted, his lips grazing your ear and sending an involuntary shiver down your spine. "I should've fucked your throat a little harder. Wouldn't be able to lie about me to everyone - including our boss - then, would you?" Despite the bitterness in his voice, your body reacted to his words. Your mind was scolding itself for the rush of arousal that coursed through you. How was he still affecting you like this?

You shook your head clear. No. He wasn't going to have his way this time.

"Lie? I haven't lied about anything," you replied with a snarky tone. Jungkook chuckled in disbelief. He quickly flipped you around so you were forced to face him. You didn't hesitate to meet his ravenous gaze with your own.

"No? So you really think I'm sleeping with the boss?" he asked, tone getting serious. You shrugged nonchalantly, annoying him more.

"You'll fuck anything that moves," you jabbed. "At least fucking the boss has some real benefits unlike the girl from the bar. Maybe she'd even give you a raise if you could satisfy her properly." Jungkook couldn't hide the disgust that flared across his features; insulted that you thought so little of him. The urge to shut you up was growing stronger by the second, burning through his insides. You were going to drive him insane.

"Watch yourself," he warned, the words coming out dark and gravelly. But the surge of excitement that you felt, knowing that you had managed to provoke him, was addicting. You wanted more.

"If it was anyone else, I'd be all for it. Get that bag, you know?" you said with indifference. "But you? I thought the boss had better taste. Her bar must be in hell." That was enough for Jungkook. Before you even had a second to process what was happening, one of his hands was wrapped around your neck. His fingers dug into the flesh, limiting your breath in the most delicious way.

"You didn't seem to think so when you were begging me to touch you - to fuck you in a dirty bar bathroom," he growled, stepping closer, face inches from yours.

"Yeah, obviously I expected too much," you sneered. "You don't know how to please anyone but yourself. Boss must be a real masochist to keep going back to you. Poor thing," you tutted, knowing you'd practically nailed the head in your own coffin before you'd even finished your thought. Jungkook's face contorted in a snarl as his grip tightened around your throat. You gasped, the dark swirl in your core intensifying.

"Maybe I should talk to her," you patronized, chasing the high from pissing him off. "I can recommend someone who can actually make her feel good - get her off. A man. Not a selfish boy," you emphasized. "Think she'll like me better than you after that?" With that, his other hand was pressed firmly against your mouth, effectively shutting you up. You grunted at the sheer pressure of his hold, now struggling to breathe.

"You just don't shut up, do you?" he spat. The look in his eyes was nearly feral; like he was going to eat you alive. His ego took a hit to your words, even though he knew you didn't actually believe everything you'd said. Still, you seemed to be stuck on his 'selfishness'. It infuriated him that you didn't understand why he wasn't giving you what you wanted, but he'd had enough of you running your mouth. If you'd forgotten how easily he made you melt under his touch, he'd just have to remind you. And make sure you never forgot again.

With each passing second of silent seething, you thought he might actually choke you out. But then he let go of you. You gasped for air, coughing as you caught your breath. Just as you were about to shoot him the dirtiest look you could muster, Jungkook sank to his knees. The snarky remark on your tongue vanished as you watched him kneel in front of you, looking up at you with a carnivorous gaze. Lust consumed your senses as he wordlessly loosened his tie, tugging at the collar of his shirt. You'd think that seeing him on his knees would make you feel more powerful in the situation. But the hunger in his eyes made it clear that he was still very much in control.

Simply put: Jungkook, in a suit and on his knees, was enough to wipe away your last bit of common sense.

"This is what you want, right?" he asked, his hands slipping under your skirt. You felt paralyzed, your breath caught in your throat. His hands moved up your thighs, slowly dragging your skirt up with them. "You wanna cum, yeah?" You were genuinely struggling to form any thoughts, your senses heightened.

"Want me to make you cum?" A strangled groan bubbled in your throat at his tone. He'd barely done a thing and your breathing was already heavy. So much for your resolve. As your skirt bunched above your hips, you suddenly became hyper aware of your situation. You were still at work, in a file room, door unlocked.

"Someone could walk in," you gasped, trying to convince yourself that you didn't want this. He ignored you, trailing his fingers down your hips and legs instead. "We've already been gone for a while. What if someone comes looking?" You desperately tried to focus your wandering mind.

"I guess I should hurry then," he sneered, shooting you a glare. Then his fingers were sliding between your legs, making you close your eyes and sigh as they eased the ache in your clit. By that point you were too far gone to even feel embarrassed about having soaked through your panties. Jungkook hissed as your slick coated his digits. "I put the bar in hell, but still, you get so wet for me," he snapped, adding more pressure. For the first time all day, you had nothing to quip back with. Your sweet silence was like music to his ears. Mindful of the time, Jungkook hooked his fingers in your underwear and pulled them down your legs. You knew there was no going back as you stepped out of them. Your knees felt weak as you watched him hastily shove them in his pocket. But before you could ask what he was planning on doing with them, he hooked a hand under your thigh, lifting your leg up and to the side. With your legs spread and your pussy staring him in the face, Jungkook was struggling to control himself. He wanted to tease you - make you beg and plead - but he didn't. Fuck. He couldn't; not when he felt like he'd lose his sanity if he didn't taste you right away.

Without wasting another second, his lips were pressed to you, the velvety heat of his mouth engulfing you as his tongue licked at your wetness. Your mouth was left agape as your hands buried into his hair, using the locks to keep yourself tethered. Jungkook groaned into your heat; he felt like he was getting drunk off of you. His fingers dug into your thighs as he hungrily lapped at your pussy. Your eyes rolled back and you let out a drawn out moan as his lips wrapped around your clit, creating the perfect amount of suction. You would've thought he was starved seeing the vigor with which he ate you out. He didn't stop, didn't pull away for a single breath - too consumed with the taste of you on his tongue. You were embarrassingly close already, struggling to contain your moans and whimpers. You bit your lip, trying to hold them in, but another particular harsh lick to your clit had you groaning Jungkook's name. Seeing you unravel so quickly only fueled Jungkook's appetite; the sound of his name on your lips going straight to his aching cock. All it took was him groaning into your cunt after that to send you over the edge. Your fingers yanked at his hair, desperately pulling him closer as you felt the white heat build up.

"Jungkook, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck," you cursed, voice whiny as you tried to keep quiet. "Gonna cum," you moaned right as you crashed over the edge. Jungkook felt you tense in his hold as you came on his tongue. He diligently lapped at your slit, sure to pay attention to your clit as well to help you ride out your orgasm. He slowed down as you came down from your high. Naturally, your legs tried to close together once his tongue became overstimulating. But Jungkook's hold was firm, keeping your legs apart. You tried to catch your breath, mind reeling from the mix of pleasure and pain flooding your senses.

"Jungkook... wait," is all you managed to get out. He ignored you again, picking up his pace despite your cringing.

"So fucking good," he growled against you, like he hated admitting it to himself. It felt weird hearing him compliment you after all the bickering and degrading earlier. Yet you couldn't deny that it boosted your ego seeing him so fucked out and angry. He pushed you further up against the cabinets, giving himself better access to you and delving his tongue into your dripping hole. And just like that, the sensitivity was replaced with a delicious pleasure once again.

"Please, wait..." you breathlessly pleaded. In contrast to the last orgasm, he was building this one up slowly. Unfortunately for you, that meant it felt twice as intense and you were getting increasingly worried about being caught.

"Thought you wanted to cum, sweetheart," he mocked. "That's why you're being such a bitch, right? Mad that I didn't make you cum last time?" he grit through his teeth. You cursed him under your breath, but were more focused on the feeling of his soft lips against. You finally looked down at him properly, ready to glare at him. But the second you saw his dark eyes staring up at you, the rest of his face buried between your legs, you lost your train of thought entirely. Then you saw his hand sprawled across your lower stomach while his thumb rubbed circles into your clit. Fuck, why was he so hot?

"What if we get caught?" you half-heartedly complained, trying to muffle your whimpers.

"They'll see what a fucking slut you are for me then," he grunted. You slapped a hand over your mouth when he picked up his pace, continuing to plunge his tongue in and out of you. "Keep your hands down," he demanded, pressing harder on your clit. "You're gonna keep moaning like that for me," he hissed, delving right back into the heat of your cunt. In that moment, all you heard was his demanding tone and your hands instinctively went back to his hair without a second thought. You whined, trying to keep your voice down as he slowly built up your pleasure.

"Good," he praised, his words muffled as he continued to eat you out. "I should make you scream, so that everyone knows that you, Y/n, are cumming on my tongue." His words were bitter but they turned you on more. You clearly had some problems. It didn't take very long after that to feel that white heat building up again. Jungkook could tell you were almost there, so he sped up the pace of his fingers and plunged his tongue deeper into you. "Including our boss," he rasped. And then you were cumming again; gripping tightly onto his hair and groaning his name once more.

"There you go," he coaxed, letting you ride his face. You hadn't realized, but at some point, your hips had started moving on their own. Seeing you with your eyes screwed shut and mouth hanging open, as you unraveled under his touch, only fueled Jungkook's hunger. When you started coming down, he finally pulled away; giving you a second of reprieve. That was until you looked down to see his blown out, dark eyes staring at you. His mouth and chin were covered in your juices and he looked ravenous. He quickly pulled off his suit jacket, wiping his face with the sleeve of his shirt, eyes never leaving yours. Your chest heaved; partly because you were still catching your breath, and partly because of how fucking hot Jungkook looked in the moment. His hands went right back to your thighs, pulling them apart once more.

"Wait, what're you doing?!" you asked, eyes going wide. "I can't cum again, please," you nearly cried. His fingers dug into your thighs as he watched you plead.

"You can and you will," he said firmly. "You know why?" He slid his fingers between your folds, gathering all the wetness that had pooled. "Because you fucking love my touch," he growled. Your already weak knees felt even weaker.

"You're so desperate for it; for my mouth, my fingers, my cock." Your legs threatened to buckle under you if it weren't for Jungkook's hand holding you up. "So desperate that you're being such a fucking brat," he spat. "Trying to piss me off. So, what? So that I'd finally touch you again?" he mocked. Your senses were overwhelmed and his words settled in a pit in your stomach. You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes; whether it was because of his harsh words or the overstimulation of his fingers, you weren't sure. Just as you were about to retort, Jungkook slipped a slender finger into you which slid in smoothly with how wet you were. He let out a throaty groan, quickly slipping another finger into you and curling them upwards. You nearly doubled over as he pressed right into your g-spot.

"See how tuned your body is to me? I've barely done a thing and you're already a mess," he taunted. Seeing how flimsy your legs had gotten, he quickly threw the leg he was holding over his shoulder, getting even closer to you. His name left your lips in a whine, your body torn between pleasure and worry. "Well here, I'm giving you what you want." He punctuated his words by curling his fingers again, making you moan. "You wanna cum? I'll make you cum...over and over again, so you never forget how good I make you feel." And with that, he finally pulled his fingers out before slamming them back into you, setting a hard pace.

Your mind was left blank, so consumed with pleasure that you couldn't even think about staying quiet. Whimpers and moans shamelessly tumbled out of you as he filled you up so delightfully. Jungkook wasn't unaffected either. Feeling how warm and wet you were was driving him up the wall, numbing his own thoughts.

"So wet for me, fuck. My cock would slide right into you with how drenched you are," he thought out loud. He felt you tighten around his fingers, making him snarl and pick up his pace. "Filthy fucking cockslut. I can't wait to feel you tighten around me like that when I'm fucking all this brattiness out of you," he growled, voice low. You could only moan in response.

"Jungkook, s-slow down, please," you begged, knowing that you wouldn't be able to hold on much longer. Before you knew it, his free hand came down on your pussy, leaving a delicious sting spreading through you. A half yelp-half moan sound came out of you, making Jungkook scoff.

"You're gonna take what I give you, like a good little slut," he grunted. "What do you have to say now Y/n?" he asked, annoyance lacing his voice. "You're so convinced I'm fucking every woman and leaving them unsatisfied. Do you feel satisfied yet?" With his fingers pumping you, grazing your g-spot with every thrust, it was nearly impossible for you to form a coherent thought. When you didn't answer, he gave your pussy another smack, making you hiss.

"Answer me," he demanded, "How do you feel now Y/n?"

"F-feel good," is all you could come up with. Jungkook chuckled at your fucked out state.

"Who's making you feel good sweetheart?"

"You," you moaned, feeling yourself reach your climax again. "Oh my god. Jungkook, please...don't stop. Feels so good, I'm gonna-"

Jungkook's ego inflated as you finally found your words again, saying exactly what he wanted to hear. Hearing you beg for him almost made up for all the shit you'd put him through that day. Almost. You were creaming on his fingers before you could even finish your sentence, moaning his name way louder than you should.

"Now you're finally being a good girl," he praised, continuing to pump his fingers through your orgasm. "Fuck, you're getting so tight. Keep cumming on my fingers like that, yeah?" he groaned, imagining how good you would feel on his cock. Your orgasm was so powerful, you were cumming for what felt like an eternity. Jungkook didn't mind; continuing to work you through it. When it was finally over, your legs gave out. Jungkook quickly caught you as you collapsed, and he placed you down on his discarded jacket on the floor. You closed your eyes and waited for your heart rate to go back to normal. When you opened your eyes after a few moments, Jungkook was still kneeling in front of you. His gaze was trained on your still exposed cunt and he had slipped his soaked fingers into his mouth, tasting you all over again. You worried for second that he still wasn't done with you. He slowly dragged his glazed over eyes to meet your. You gulped at the voracious look on his face, your legs instinctively closing.

Meanwhile, Jungkook was battling with his own insatiable thoughts. He knew he couldn't forget about this, about you, about your pussy after this. As infuriating and insufferable you were, he couldn't deny how good you tasted and felt. And he sure as hell couldn't deny how hard you'd gotten him either. With his hormones surging through him, all he could think about was being inside you, in any way. He saw the look on your face and nearly scoffed. You fucked up his reputation and humiliated him all because you wanted to cum, and now you couldn't take it. He took a deep breath, forcing his thoughts away so he could be rational.

"Don't worry, I'm not gonna make you cum again," he said. You scoffed, easing up a little with his reassurance. "You got what you wanted, right? Now maybe you'll keep your mouth shut." The high of your pleasure was wearing off and the weight of his words were hitting you. Did he really just think you were desperate for him? Had he forgotten how he was shamelessly flirting with that other girl right after leaving you in that bathroom? Reality finally caught up with you, and you realized how vulnerable you'd made yourself to him. If someone came in right now, the only person who'd be humiliated was you. Clearly, all of this was just a game to him; a way to shut you up. Jungkook was toying with you and you were letting him. A similar shame and hurt creeped across your skin as the night he'd left you in the bar bathroom. Part of you had started to feel bad about what you'd done earlier, but if Jungkook really was just using you, then you were still nowhere near even.

Without saying a word, you stood up, pulling your skirt back down. In the process, you remembered that he'd taken your underwear. But you'd have to talk to him to ask for them back, and the last thing you wanted to do was talk to him. You'd just have to clean up later and make it through the day without them. You straightened your clothes, trying to make them look as less wrinkly as possible, avoiding Jungkook's piercing gaze. When you finally felt like you looked presentable, that's when you looked at him. This time it was him that was left a mess. His hair was ruined by all the grabbing and pulling you'd done, and his collar was soaked with your juices. You looked at his jacket that you were not standing on, and sure enough, you'd left a wet spot and now heel marks on it too. It made you feel a little better, knowing that this time he'd have to fix himself up instead of you. You picked up his jacket with the toe of your shoe before kicking it over to him. You shot him a cold look.

"You're an asshole," you stated before walking out the door. Jungkook was left on the floor, even more frustrated. He'd felt more gratified after putting you in your place, but then what was that? You'd obviously enjoyed yourself, so what was the problem now? He groaned loudly. Despite his anger, the bulge in his pants was now aching. Everything about you was infuriating to him, so how did you have this much of an affect on him? His mind wandered back to how you felt in his hands and on his tongue. He growled as he palmed his crotch, slowly taking out his hard cock. He stroked himself harshly with the frustration you'd left him with. He quickly pulled out your panties from his pocket, unable to stop himself. His head rolled back and your name spilled past his lips along with low groans as he brought up the thin fabric to his face.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tag List: @myjungkookthighs @bemuas @junecat18 @exortedgoods @jahnaviii @jk97bam @itsmekylabear @blueberriesm @marvelbun @vantelover1306 @runariya @btstrology @diame93 @curse-of-art @minyoongi7016

[neuvilette-tea-party]

Hi, I'm so in love with your last Steb writing and and the knotting was so 😩🙏 I would love to see him having his mini him and happy family life if you ever write it ❤️

Can't wait to read more from you 💖

Hihihihi, thank you ❤️ I love him so much and the knoooooot 😩 I'm feral! Now he gets to be a daddy!

⋆⁺₊⋆━━━━⊱༒︎ • Steb x F!reader • ༒︎⊰━━━━⋆⁺₊⋆

Tags: fluff, happiness, non-descriptive birth, domestic, Steb becomes a doting dad

request open for best boy Steb

Steb runs 

With large strides, he crosses Piltover from his station to the hospital. He just had time to warn Caytlin and Vi and burst off the Police station, not even taking the time to close his enforcer jacket. 

Birth! 

You are giving birth! 

It had to happen today! When they called him for reinforcement! He swore he would be here all the steps of the way!  

He sprints like he has never sprinted before, slaloming between other passersby, focused on his breathing to not slow down. He holds down the bouquet to not let it escape his grip while he crosses the busy roads and streets 

He is an aquatic Vastaya but right this instant he feels wings at his ankles propelling him forward in the streets. People jump out of his way, who would stand in front of an enforcer with such a grave expression? 

Nobody sane, that’s for sure. 

He jumps over train guardrails, making the inspectors scream but he is already so far away, his mind only focused on you and the trial you are going through right this instant. 

Trial he isn’t even here to support you with! He grits his teeth, disappointed in himself, and accelerates even more, cars honk when he crosses before them carelessly and people yelp when they almost collide. 

But he evades every obstacle with gracious ease, deadly focused like never before. Despite his haste he is actually extremely careful to not collect dirt on his clothes to not dirty the delivery room. 

When he arrives at the hospital he is panting and sweaty, his cheek fins waving under tension and stress. He allows himself only 15 seconds to take his breath back and enters the lobby, heading directly to the nurse behind the counter. 

She doesn’t know sign language, but he came prepared with questions and general information in his notebook and she escorts him to the room in question.  

He standsl before the double door. 

Still 

Unmoving 

Paralyzed 

Terrified... 

He almost jolts hearing a scream inside. 

Your scream. 

He takes a deep breath 

You are waiting for your husband, his love and support! 

He takes a big breath and enters. 

Immediately, the screams get clearer and he discovers you on a bed in a blue tunic, surrounded by nurses and surgeons, looking exhausted and at the end of your rope. 

“Who are you?” A nurse intercepts him before he can take a step inside. 

He is frantically searching his anticipated response in his notebook when 

“Steb...?” You call out weakly, “Steb!” 

You extend your hand to him, desperate for him to hold it tight and help you in this moment. The nurse lets him pass and he immediately grabs your hand, intertwining your fingers together. 

He reverently kisses your hand and circles your shoulders, kissing your face all over, his cheek fins shaking terribly between fear and bliss. 

A baby 

Your baby to your both 

Your family  

Your little one! 

He cannot wait. 

He squeezes your shoulders and lets you dig your nails in his skin as deep as you need, letting you draw blood while you push hard, losing your sanity in the pain, screaming everything you have out. 

He tenderly presses his forehead to your temple. 

“You can do it...” He manages to speak despite the pain of talking, “I am here for you...” 

You weakly nod and resume pushing. He lets the bouquet on some chairs and pats your head with a towel, hugging you tight, purring to soothe you. 

The entire room smells like blood and amniotic fluid and you are absolutely crushing his hand in your grip, but it is so soft to him. 

He kisses your temple and cheek reverently, his ears twitching with emotion when 

A baby’s scream resonates 

Everything seems to come to a halt, even his heart, when he hears that sound for the very first time. 

Your Baby’s first scream ! 

He looks at you excited like a puppy, unable to refrain from an excited chuckle, kissing your hand endlessly 

‘’One last push and the baby will be here.’’ The surgeon indicates, perfectly calm. 

You grit your teeth and push one last time, trembling terribly, disheveled, sweaty, exhausted 

But you are absolutely radiant in his eyes right now, shining like a star... 

‘’And… there we go.’’ The nurse exclaims joyfully, raising your baby for you both to see. 

Steb feels about to faint suddenly. 

‘’Sir? Sir?’’ She calls for him, ‘’This is your baby.’’ She smiles with her eyes, her mouth hidden behind a mask 

Steb gulps and takes a step forward, feeling his legs weak. He approaches so slowly and softly, like he is affraid to scare his baby 

He lets out an incredulous chuckle when she puts them in his arms. 

They are green with stripes like him, and so warm… 

He looks at the nurse, not believing it, and giggles again as she nods to him 

Your baby… 

He suddenly feel like falling and three nurses hold him back 

‘’Careful Sir. Maybe you should sit down.’’ She said with a smile taking the baby from his arms to allow him to sit and not lose consciousness 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Everything is over. 

You are peacefully napping in your bed, finally resting after the birth in your hospital room, the flowers in a vase.  

Steb stands still before the crib, his heart so full of love he feels like it will explode at any moment now. 

A babygirl 

A daughter. 

He wants to cry 

A daughter to brighten his days. 

She is so small and cute. The most adorable baby he had ever seen in his totally unbiased opinion.  

He managed to gather enough strength to cut the umbilical cord and show her to you for 30 seconds before she was taken for medical examination, but it is done and now calm and peace came back. 

This is a healthy baby that was in a rush to come into the world. She was quite energetic in your womb and Steb had great hopes that she would come out fine. 

He leans forward to tenderly caress her cheek. Her sensitive little fins wave in reaction to that strange new sensation, but she does not wake up. 

His throat contracts as he feels tears starting to roll down his cheeks. 

Finally, a baby. 

His very own family, the one thing war did not take from him! 

He bites his lower lips to not let his sobs wake up his darling baby, she needs to sleep and eat a lot for now. 

His gaze travels to you, sleeping soundly. You are visibly exhausted but happiness is unmistakable on your features. Steb smiles through the tears. He could not have dreamed of a better mother than you. 

You are his blessing. 

The both of you. 

His gaze returns to his jewel when he hears her yawn, stretching the best she can with her small baby body. 

So, so adorable... He will choke on love 

He takes off his jacket and shirt, remaining bare chest as he leans over the crib to take his baby, his daughter in his arms for the second time, his heart beating painfully in his chest. 

What... What if he hurts her in some way? What if his clumsy and wound her at some point? 

He shakes his head to silence the dark thoughts and sits down on a chair, pressing his baby against his naked chest, initiating skin-to-skin contact, so needed for babies, holding her fragile little head so carefully like she is made of glass. 

He refrains from audibly gasping. 

He can feel her little heart beating against his chest 

A little drum 

Small but strong and steady 

Right in the palms his hands. 

This time, he doesn’t try to refrain from anything and starts chuckling and crying freely, pressing his cheek against her small head like the most precious of treasures, his fins gently grazing her bald little head like a caress. 

He feels alive 

And like Good is still of this world 

He holds the very proof in his trembling hands 

At last 

------------------------------------------- 

Steb gently holds your hair back while you puke, curled over the toilet seat. 

You cough and spit while he tenderly caresses your back, soothing you in the little ways he can, only a helpless witness to your discomfort. 

You sigh and sit down on your ankle to breathe while he flushes the toilet and kneels next to you, letting you fall in his embrace. 

Your former pregnancy was not especially restful but this one is manhandling you so much more. He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear fondly as he purrs, comforting you with the steady sound and vibration of his chest. 

“I’m sorry...” You grumble. 

He brushes his forehead against your temple as if to say it was nothing he could not handle, especially for you, his beloved wife. 

You both look up when you hear crying start on the second floor. 

“She must be hungry...” You sigh, exhausted. “I’ll go and-” 

He immediately seizes your chin to make you turn to him and express his disapproval. He explains with signs his true thoughts while you look at him, tired. 

“But... You woke up in the night to feed her, it’s my turn to take care of-” 

He shakes his head, categorical.  

Before you could add anything else he helps you stand up and captures your legs to lift you up bridal style, carrying you up the stairs. You let your head rest against your husband’s chest, too tired to argue. 

He leaves you in the bathroom to let you brush your teeth and enters the small nursery where his daughter is crying all the tears of her small body. He gently takes her and bops her up and down. 

Indeed, this was her hungry cry, he recognized it instantly. 

He pats her back gently as he exits the nursery. He takes a glance inside the bedroom to see you getting to bed with your round belly and a deep sigh. He nods to himself and heads downstairs as he cradles his darling baby.  

He puts her in her baby chair and opens a baby can you both cooked. Steb isn’t especially trusting of the baby food in the market and prefers to cook his daughter’s food himself. He comes near her and cannot refrain from smiling as he sees her whining and extending her two hands toward him, knowing he has yummy food for her. 

He gives her spoonfuls, mimicking a plane or a boat to distract and amuse her and she eats her food without making a fuss. 

She is always making a fuss with you to your dismay but Steb magically calms her down just by taking her in his warm embrace. You are deeply jealous of him for that, but you both know it is just a baby passing fancy. He likes to tell you she will grow out of it and be terrible to both of you once she grows up, never failing to make you giggle and ease your mood.  

He smiles as she takes such a huge gulp some food escapes her baby mouth, he gently wipes it off with a towel, purring loudly, simply happy. 

He contemplates his daughter with eyes full of wonders. 

She is green with stripes like him but she has your hair and nose, she inherited her eyes from his mother. 

He plays, making the spoon wave in the air like a plane before reaching her wide-open mouth as she slaps her little hands on the chair with excitement. 

She giggles a lot and eats her fills to his relief.  

Steb keeps track of her weight and height and all other medical marks that he meticulously notes down in her health record booklet. 

She takes the final spoonful and almost spits it out laughing. Steb tidies up the can and spoon and gives her a small bowl of biscuits you baked that she absolutely loves. 

While she nibbles on the biscuits he pours some hot tea into a large mug and cuts some brioche slices with some mandarines, puts everything on a tray, and frees his baby of her chair, holding her with one arm, the tray with the other. 

He kisses his daughter’s forehead as he walp up the stairs and enter the bedroom. He silently skirts the bed to reach your side where you are laying down and leaves the tray on your bedside table, prompting you to open your eyes. 

‘’Oh Steb… you shouldn’t have.’’ You yawn, thankful. 

He boops your nose playfully and goes to lay on his side, your daughter between the two of you 

You turn toward them with a tired sigh and pull your baby to you with a relieved breathe.  

Steb silently smiles. 

He circles your shoulders with his arm, caressing your hair. 

When you will be sleeping he will leave to take care of the dishes and laundry. 

But for now, he will hug you both, reveling in your warmth and scents, hugging you tight like his treasures. 

Ses deux petits cœurs 

☆☆Taglist☆☆

@dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @brandy-and-bane @sp-the-fae-queen @aeeliy @sanktastuff @telephoneonawire @daichisito @sofiyathelast-blog 

[seancekitsch]

Can I request Jayvik x Reader? I'm so excited you want to write for Arcane

another little shortie but i like this dynamic 💖

Jayce hums a happy tune despite his lateness, excited that today was going to be the beginning of a new project in the lab. He knew that Viktor and you were already at the lab setting things up, having gotten up way earlier than him this morning. But even with his lateness, he has treats. For you there’s a garlic bagel with chive and onion cream cheese and a hot cup of tea, for Viktor a chocolate croissant and some sweet milk, and for himself an iced mocha and bacon egg and cheese on an biscuit with hot sauce. He shifts the bag under his cup carrier, yanking the door open with a free hand as he concludes his song, ready for the greeting and praise the two of you will give him when he shows off the breakfast haul.

Only, he’s not greeted with hugs or loud greetings or praise for remembering everyone’s breakfast order. Instead he hears hushed voices, quiet moans coming from the far side of the room.

Viktor has you on his lap, your cardigan discarded on his desk as he presses sloppy kisses to your neck.

“Right there?” he asks you, and then dives back in, Jayce can see that with this kiss his tongue even darts out to lick at your pulse point. You encourage him with a moan, throwing your head back.

“Should I be jealous?” Jayce speaks up, placing the food and drinks on one of the tables as he steps forward. You dont break away from Viktor or his kisses, but you do call out his name, an excited moan of a noise that beckons him closer. You unwrap one of your arms from Viktor, holding it out until Jayce reaches out to grab it, and you easily pull him in closer to the embrace.

“We got bored waiting for you,” Viktor explains, his lips wet and shining in the lamp light, “So I started conducting my own little experiment. You see, I wanted to find out what spots made her… react the most.”

“Wanna test his hypothesis?” you ask, and then your lips press against his thumb, kissing from the base to the tip , letting the his thumb rest on your bottom lip. Jayce knows this game of yours, and plays along gladly, pressing his thumb past your teeth, letting it settle on your tongue. Greedily, you start sucking on his thumb as Viktor goes back to attacking your neck, no doubt leaving marks on your pretty skin. It’s almost too much already for Jayce, who wishes neither of you had left the apartment this morning so that you could continue this on the nice fluffy bedding instead of Viktor’s desk. Either way, Jayce practically short circuits when you hollow out your cheeks around his thumb, locking eyes with him as if daring him.

Jayce pulls you up from Viktor’s lap then, his earlier guess correct as you cry out when Viktor’s teeth graze your neck a little too harshly at the action, and Jayce takes the time to kiss you deeply. His tongue is quick to slide between the seam of your lips, hot and hungry and still tasting of the sip of mocha he had on the way over. You kiss back eagerly, but you always do, always showering your men in endless affection and attention. Your hands tangle in his hair as you pull on the shorter strands at the base of his skull, everything to work him up but—

“Wait! Shit,” Jayce pulls back from you as a string of mumbled expletives leave his mouth, “breakfast is gonna get cold if we don’t eat it quick.”

He grabs the bag and passes out each of your items, and you follow suit to grab yours and Viktor’s drinks to bring back to the desk, taking your seat back on Viktor’s lap.

“Oh Jay, you shouldn’t have!” you tell him, “my breath is gonna be so stinky after this!”

“Eh, I like it,” Viktor shrugs, and the two of you look at him as if he’s gone mad.

“What? It is… endearing. It is your stink,” he explains, and unwraps his chocolate croissant before either of you can respond.

“So we’re gonna continue this little experiment after we fuel up?” Jayce asks, taking a seat on top of the desk.

“As long as both of you take extensive notes,” you tell him, and both of your men agree to that.

[sturnlsstuff]

PLEASE WRITE A ONESHOT OF CHRIS OVERSTIMULATING Y/N AND FUCKING HER WITH A VIBRATOR OR SOMETHING LIKE DOM!CHRIS BRAT!READER PLEAAASEEE

CHRIS PUTS YOU IN YOUR PLACE AFTER BEING A BRAT ALL DAY

[smut, dom!chris, sub!reader, mdni]

chris's cock is buried deep inside you as he pounds into you mercilessly, the sound of skin slapping against skin fill the room. his hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing slightly every now and then, the bed creaking, headboard hitting against the wall from how hard he was fucking you.

you didn't really mean to be a brat today. the attitude you would give him all day was driving chris insane. he would let it slide if you two were alone, but talking back to him in front of his brothers and friends? hell no.

you knew you're screwed when he practically dragged you out of his friend's house, pushed you into the car and in total silence drove home.

did you expect him to get annoyed with you? yes. did you know exactly what the consequences would be? not really.

your pussy constantly clenching around him as you gasp for air after another orgasm you just had. "fuckin' squeezin' me so tight.... wanted to act like a brat, huh?" he pants, "couldn't fuckin'.... behave— this what you wanted? still think you're so clever now?" his thumb presses firmly against your neck when you shake your head desperately, his other hand digs into your hip hard enough to bruise.

"c-clever... no, i don't— i... oh—" stumbling over your words, another moan leaves you when he keeps hitting your g-spot perfectly, overstimulating you on purpose.

"no, huh?" his gaze is intense as you lock eyes with him, his face a mixed mask of annoyance and lust. "then shut the fuck up and take it—" he squeezes your throat a bit harder, cutting off your air supply slightly as he pounds into you relentlessly.

you're seeing stars when the knot in your belly keeps growing again, completely going dumb on his dick which causes him to twitch inside you. "close again? f-fuckk, such a good fuckin' girl takin' my cock this— should i let you cum? after you were so— fuckin'— annoying all day—?"

"i'm sorry! i'm sorry c-chris—"

"sorry? now you're fuckin' sorry?"

"please—" that's all you're able to choke out, gripping the sheets as your orgasm crashes down over you like a wave. he groans at the feeling of you creaming around him again.

his composure shatters, with a shuddering growl he presses fully inside you, his knot starting to swell "shittt, ma... stay still... don't... fuckin'... move—"

he rides out his high, eyes locked on the way your eyebrows knitted together and mouth is slack open, whines and cries out of pleasure leaving your lips.

you're pretty sure he's done and you're able to get some air especially when his grip on your throat loosens. but oh, how much you underestimated your boyfriend sometimes.

as the aftershocks of his release fade, chris glances at the vibrator lying on the nightstand, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. still buried deep inside you, he reaches for the device with a mischievous glint in his eye. you're fully oblivious to his plan, laying with your eyes closed until he picks up the vibrator and turns it on, the high pitched whine filling the room. he presses the device against your clit, the vibrations making you jerk and twitch despite being so thoroughly fucked. "open your eyes, brat. see what else we got... your favorite little toy, hm?"

a muffled scream escapes you, eyes fluttering open to look down at what he was doing. breath hitches in your throat, "chris—" you try to sway his hand away too overstimulated, but not trying hard enough when it hurts so good.

he ignores your whines, pressing the vibrator more firmly against you, his other hand reaching out to grab your thigh and throw your leg over his shoulder, opening you up even more. "too sensitive?" his tone mocks you, eyes crinkling at the corners as he watches you squirm.

chris leans forward and captures your mouth in a rough, dominating kiss, biting down on your lower lip, then tugging it gently as he continues to press the vibrator against you. "look at you, so pretty and overwhelmed..." you moan against his lips, feeling his hips slowly start moving, thrusting in and out as the toy continues to assault your swollen bud.

"t-too much, chris... please— oh!"

"too much, huh? but you're still so fuckin' tight.... m'not stoppin' until you can't take anymore." he pulls back from the kiss, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he observes your trembling legs and flushed cheeks. "gonna cum f'me again? seems like your greedy pussy can't get enough, hm?"

"i— i can't—" your hips twitch upwards to press more against the toy, feeling his cock moving hard enough to make your toes curl.

"yeaaah, you can, c'mon gorgeous... where's that attitude you were giving me all day?" he punctuates his words with a deep thrust. as you clench around him and grind against the vibrator, he presses it harder, stimulating your clit, the buzzing driving you wild. "thaaaat's it, brat... fuckkk—"

the stimulation with him repeatedly hitting your sweet spots has you coming undone again, you let out high pitched moans, your whole body shaking. "holy shit— hurts so... s-so good—"

he smirks, his arm wrapping around you, pulling you flush against his chest as he continues to thrust gently and keep the vibrator pressed against your swollen bud. "y'love it, though.." he growls in your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. "maybe this will— mmmhm, teach you how to behave—"

your fingers tangle into his hair to hold onto anything, nails digging into his back what only spurrs him on.

his thrusts becoming a little more forceful as he drives himself deeper inside you, feeling his release building again at the way you clench around him like a vice. the toy keeps buzzing against you at the same time, the combination of sensations overwhelming your poor, overstimulated pussy.

"chris if you— don't stop— oh! m'gonna— cum again—" your eyes rolling back, back arching upwards. "go ahead, baby." he pants in your ear, his voice hoarse from holding back his own release. he can feel your inner walls starting to spasm, ready to convulse around him again, your body tensing up getting closer to another release that you clearly can't handle. "gimme one more, c'mon..."

"i'm— fuck... cumming— chris, i'm—" you cry out, your body shaking uncontrollably as euphoria consumes you, completely overpowering your other senses. he watches you with satisfaction, keeping the vibrator pressed against you, prolonging your orgasm. it makes you squeeze around him so tight, he barely can move, "goddamn—"

he keeps you flush against him as he finally lets out a groan and releases inside you, flooding your already overworked pussy with his seed. you gasp for air, eyes fluttering open as you weakly mutter, "too much chris—"

he smiles against you, finally turning off the vibrator and gently pulling it away from your swollen, quivering flesh. "yeah?" he asks mischievously, nuzzling into your neck and biting gently at the sensitive skin there. "gonna keep being a brat?"

you shake your head just as he lifts up his, looking at your fucked out expression. then he captures your lips in a sweet kiss, his ego boosted at the way he clearly wore you out.

"can i get cuddles tonight?" you mutters against his lips, a chuckle escapes him. "obviously."

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[totalswag]

heyyy can i request angst with drew, maybe they had a fight (totally a misunderstanding bc yk how we get when we’re on our period 😔) and he was just really mean to her, she feels real bad abt and later he apologizes plss 🙏

love your writing!!!

apologies in the after math ⎯ DREW STARKEY

authors note hi, thank you for your kind words. i hope you enjoy reading lovies. so close to 2k of you all, oh my gosh, i'm so grateful!!

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summary its the time of month and you get overstimulated easily. drew and you have a little argument that leads you two for not talking for a bit till he comes into your shared room.

warning(s) being on your period, crying, arguing, cussing.

You started your period yesterday and have not been in the best. Your mood swings vary every single time during your period⎯don’t know what mood you’ll be. You've been lying on the heating pad since four in the morning⎯You're going through it now. 

The cloudy weather makes you feel peaceful, and you're snuggled up on the couch, watching movies to distract yourself from the cramps. This is your typical routine on your period because you don’t have a lot of energy to do anything in the very beginning.

Drew left the gym around seven in the morning and was heading home. He went with Chase, one of his Outer Banks castmates. He texted you that he was only around the corner from the house.

Drew came to the house, put his stuff down, stepped into the living room, kissed you on the cheek, and asked if you wanted to join him in the shower to ease your cramps.

"Come with me, baby; it will feel good," Drew encourages, kneeling in front of you and leaning forward, reaching, softly caressing your lower back.

Drew does everything he can to ensure your well-being during your period. He despised seeing you in pain and discomfort. He secretly brought you coffee, donuts, and your favorite flowers the last time you were on your period. He also respects your boundaries.

"I don't see why not," you shrugged, removing the blanket from your body and folding it before following Drew down the hall to your shared bathroom. 

A few hours go by, you are in one of your negative mood swings. You woke up from an hour nap. Drew and you had a fight⎯the fight began over something pointless. Of course it did. Drew had left his shoes in the middle of the hallway yet again, and as you stumbled over them, something inside you cracked. 

Drew casually dismissed your aggravation with a lazy, "Relax, it's just shoes," lightly chuckling, and you let out a rush of pent-up frustration.

"You're always doing this, Drew! You have no regard for anyone else's space or time. It's like, "Geez, are you even trying?"

His jaw tensed as he put down the drink he was holding. "Are you serious right now?" His tone was cut as a warning. "You're overreacting."

"Don't you dare tell me I'm overreacting," you said, your face flushing. "Maybe if you actually paid attention for once—"

"Fine!" he said abruptly, cutting you off. His voice rose, intense. "Do you want me to pay attention? Fine. But maybe you should quit looking for reasons to start a fight. Not everything is a major issue, you know."

The words felt like a slap. Tears welled up in your eyes before you could stop them, and you fought to let them fall. You stood paralyzed, unable to speak due to the lump in your throat. Drew inhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair and muttering something under his breath.

As time passed you didn’t say a word to Drew—both of you were quiet. You stayed in your shared bedroom scrolling through tiktok. Drew was somewhere in the house doing something.

There was a soft knock at the door, "Hey," Drew said, hesitantly and quietly.

You didn’t answer. Part of you wanted to stay stubborn, but the crack in his tone made your resolve falter. 

The door creaked open, and you could hear his cautious feet. "I'm sorry," he added, bringing his voice closer. "I should not have spoken to you like that. "I didn't mean it."

You peered out from beneath the cover, seeing his sorrowful gaze. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, and his hair was ruffled, as if he had raked his fingers through it in irritation.

"I was out of line," he added, crouching near the bed. "I just lashed out." That is on me."

Drew continues to explain he was even more out of line knowing you are on your period and you have these little moments where you aren’t in the best of moods. He was validating your feelings, putting the blame on himself. However, you shouldn’t react that way to begin with.

The honesty in his tone made your throat clench.

"I'm sorry, too," you said quietly. "I didn't intend to provoke a fight. "I just..." I've been feeling lousy all day and took it out on you. "I should not have done that."

Drew shook his head softly. "No, do not do it. You are free to express how you feel. "I just want to be better for you."

He grabbed your hand and lovingly squeezed it. "Will you come out with me? "I have something to show you."

Curiosity got the best of you. The wonders of what he has for you. Was he doing something to make up for the altercation? So many things running through your mind. 

When you entered the dining room, your breath hitched. The table was set with your favorite dinner, and candles flickered softly in the dark lighting. An arrangement of your favorite flowers was placed in the center, their beautiful fragrance filling the air.

"I know it doesn't erase what I said," Drew replied softly, caressing the back of his neck. But I wanted to make it up to you. You mean everything to me, and I detest the thought of you thinking I don't care,” wrapping his arms around your waist, kissing your cheek a few times.

Your eyes welled up again, but this time with glad tears. You hugged him firmly and buried your face in his chest.

"Thank you," you replied softly. "This means everything to me."

He kisses the top of your head and wrapped his arms around you. "You mean everything to me," he said quietly back.

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[sandyca5tle]

Was having a semi-serious conversation with some friends, and accidentally found myself quoting RWBY in a way that actually helped the discussion at hand, which got me thinking, there's a good few lines in RWBY that are just generally good things for life, so i decided to write a post about it 'cause fuck it. Some'll have commentary some are self explanitary enough. "I'm not any one thing, I'm somewhat of a lot of things" - this was the one that actually sparked this, was talking about identity with a friend, and found this quote very applicable - you don't always have to neatly fit in a box, you can be somewhat several things at once, if that's what fits for you. "Well that embaressment, that desire to go back and tell yourself not to be so stupid, that just proves you're not the same person you used to be. And you're not done growing yet" "You don't have to look cool all the time"

"Of course you are [a real girl]. You think just because you've got nuts and bots instead of squishy guts makes you any less real than me?" - This is less a general life lesson, but more of a 'just because someone is different to you, doesn't make them/their experiences any less real'. And obviously there's the trans angle on this, not being a 'real girl' is an anxiety many trans girls have struggled with, or is something people throw at us to put us down. But just 'cause we're built a little different than cis girls, doesn't make us any less girls "Pyrrha thought that, if there was even the smallest chance of helping someone, that it was a chance worth taking" "I'd be lying if I said that it didn't hurt, that I didn't think about them everyday since I lost them. That I didn't wish I had spent more time with them. If it had been me instead, I know they would have kept fighting too, no matter how dangerous it was, so that's what I choose to do. To keep moving forwards." - Mostly putting this here 'cause it's always nice to have a talk like this regarding grief/loss, and yeah, i just think this is nice and fairly honestly reflection of how a lotta people feel when they lose someone, coupled with the adivce to keep moving forwards. "I'm not asking you to stop. Just please, get some rest, not just for you, but for the people you care about," - I like this one 'cause a) self care is important bitches! Burning yourself out isn't gonna help whatever you're trying to do and b) hurting yourself like that is also gonna hurt those who care for you, 'cause no one wants to see those they care for suffer. So remember to take a break from time to time. "You think you're being selfless, but you're not. Yeah that chameleon friend of yours got me pretty good, but I'd do it all again if it meant protecting you... and I promise Yang would say the same. You can make your own choices sure, but you don't get to make ours. When your friends fight for you, it's because we want to, so stop pushing us out. That hurts more than anything the bad guys could ever do to us," - Obviously the parts about fighting can be taken a little more metaphorically for everyday life, but I like this quote 'cause yeah, the people who are there for you *want* to be there for you, so deciding that you're a burden on them and hiding away/pushing them away is gonna hurt them because they *want to be there for you* - don't decide something for other people. "My losses, my failures, those, more than anything, are what have shaped me into who I am; showed me how I need to grow. If there's something I'm missing it's not because I've lost it, it's 'cause I haven't found it yet" - I just think this is a beautiful line. We've all wished at moments to undo the mistakes we've made, however those mistakes made us the people we are now. And yeah, I love the idea that something you're missing is not because you lost it, it's because you haven't found it yet. "One small kindness, in one small moment, lead to such a marvelous transformation, just like one act of dishonesty caused an unfortunate change" - Reminder that even small actions can mean a lot to others "What happens if I chose me?" "Then maybe, that girl is enough,"

But yeah, all of this to say I love RWBY, it has so many amazing and emotional moments and yeah, if you haven't given it a watch I would highly reccommend (and if you've heard bad things, i'd maybe give it a watch yourself first, a lotta people like to hate on the show in bad faith). But yeah, love RWBY and love all the wonderful moments and messages within it

[astracora]

Turning Point - Part 4

Characters: Poly!LADs x gn!mc

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Injuries, Angst, Loss of Arm, Lots of emotional struggle with disability, Xavier Anecdote and Lightseeker Myth mentions.

Word Count: 4584

Written: 7th January 2025

Notes: Pre-relationship with gn!MC with all LADs, with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in. Unnamed MC, but using my personal MC's basic appearance and adjusted backstory. I take some liberties with what the game offers me. This one was rough for a lot of reasons. Also I think about how Xavier is the only confirmed character to watch MC die in his arms, way more than I should. So I feel like guilt is an emotion he would have to contend with the most. I'm also beyond heartbroken we didn't get him sobbing or reacting in game. Also I wrote like, so many side things while I was trying to work this bit out. But I've also gone back to chapter 3 to change the timeframe for Raffy's exhibit, so I can write out the chapter for him properly. (chapter? part?)

Now Playing: Starlight, by STARSET

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Xavier can't focus, he knows Nero is talking to him. If he had to make a guess, he knows the topic… he just can't make himself hear it.

He doesn't dislike Nero, and while he couldn't care less about the topic of Lumiere, least of all when you talk about him, he normally listens. Because Nero likes Xavier, and is comfortable talking to him, and has zero interest in flirting with you.

It's a low threshold… he's aware he's a selfish creature. If the new companions he'd acquired weren't willing to die for you too, he probably would have less patience for them. Even if sometimes they do press on the edges of his tolerance.

It's probably part of his punishment…

For not being there.

For letting you get hurt.

"Xavier?"

"Xaviiiiiier?"

"Hey!"

His nose is held, and he jolts upright, looking forwards with wide eyes at Tara and Nero who are frowning.

"Are you alright?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to bore you."

He shakes his head, trying to clear what you've dubbed his 'storm cloud', "Just tired."

Tired. Angry. Hurting. He let you down, and now you're suffering even more.

He thinks about the you he left behind, the future he turned his back on. He thinks about the throne, and the ship he chartered.

He thinks about every life he's taken to protect yours. All the blood on his hands.

With all of his vigilance, all of his love, it took moments to almost lose you. Again.

"You should head home, we don't have any missions, and you'll just fall asleep again." Tara laughs, pushing a paper bag towards him, "And take this back for them, alright?"

He's about to do so, when he sees documents on Nero's desk. Sketches of prosthetic arms, augmented with wanderer designs. "What are you doing?"

Nero jumps, shoving the paper back but too slowly, Xavier picks it up to peer at it. Alongside the sketches are notes.

'Adjust the metal casing so it can be used as an emergency shield.' 'Nerve transmitters that work from the brain, requires less input from residual limb.' 'Bioorganic materials from wanderers reduce rejection rate?' 'Will they want patterns? Or something more skin-like?'

He looks at Nero, from all the notes, even some he can't read because the handwriting is quick and frantic, "What's this?"

The man in question looks down, his glasses almost falling off his nose, "I was talking to some of the other hunters who have a prosthetic. or lost a limb."

"I was doing the talking, Nero was taking notes."

He nods, looking a little more backed up with Tara next to him, "I wanted to find out what they could have used more when they started working again. Ways I could help them." He blinks then, looking startled, "They're coming back right?"

Tara looks at Xavier too, and he feels like he's under a microscope, because her face has changed. Fear lurking in frantic eyes.

"They will." He affirms, because you're aiming to, and he knows you don't give up. You'll stumble, trip, fall and bleed… but you'll get up and start running again.

He thinks about the you he left behind, and the you now.

Scarred and angry, aching at the edges. He thinks of the laughter when you finish a mission, fist bumping him with glee. The photos he has of you where you're smiling. Even if you don't smile as wide as Tara does, even if the scars tug at your lips. He thinks about your eyes, glittering with mischief, as you steal something off his desk.

When you can't stop laughing when you ask to try his light blade, flashing teeth like a cat. Heated cheeks but amused. He shares a blush, but he wishes you wouldn't tease.

You're different, with overlaps in parts.

He misses your smile.

"Nero, can you help me with something?"

—-

When he gets back to the apartment building, the moon high in the sky, he wants to see you straight away… but his hunter uniform is dirty, and he wants to relax. Release the strain of the day. So he stops off, changes, and sees some of the doctor's clothes next to his bed.

He's not sure what made him offer his apartment as a secondary place to stay. He's not sure if it was the relief in your eyes when you saw them all there the next morning, or the guilt that he wasn't enough alone to protect you.

Regardless, he made a choice. Even though only the doctor seems to use it. Rafayel prefers to sleep on the floor, if he sleeps at all with his projects, Sylus drifts in and out like a ghost… he only stays when he stays next to you.

He finds himself sleeping against your bed when you do, when he's not fighting. Trying to chase out the guilt with his sword.

As he makes his way back to your apartment, he sees a note on the fridge.

Plate in fridge, reheat it.

With a sketch of a round crow… he thinks it's wearing a neck ruff?

"Courtesy of kitten," The voice is even, and he sees Sylus at the kitchen table. Prosthetic in hand, as he goes through motions they all know. Cleaning and tending to it. "The crow, that is. The food is me. An extra plate is easy."

Xavier would question the intelligence of eating food made by a criminal, but if he trusts Sylus' food in your hands, he doesn't fear it in his own. "Thanks." He doesn't want to think too hard about this. About the state of things. The people around him that he never would have met without you.

He fractures at the idea that he can't be enough to protect you.

He'll eat it later, when guilt doesn't turn his stomach.

"If you're going to check in on them, do it quietly." Sylus doesn't look up at him, content to ease leather with careful hands and cloth, "They finally got to sleep."

He bristles a little, at being told to be careful with you, eyes narrowing and cold, but it is not received. The man even has the nerve to begin humming, low and under his breath. Out of tune. Xavier doesn't think he's ever met another man so impossibly unbothered by the world around him.

The words are ignored, received with a huff, and he walks past, towards your bedroom. You're alone today, no Rafayel lay on the bed with you, sketching, no Zayne, reading in the dark, as you sleep. You are curled around a large plushie of a narwhal, arm clutching it to your chest as you mutter through your dreams.

It is a relief to see the steady movement of your breathing. Though he still does not settle down until he places a hand on your cheek, feeling the exhale. You're alive, you're here, and you're under his hands.

The guilt calms down, as he reminds himself of that.

Instead of going back out to eat, Xavier settles down on the floor, back pressed to the bed, cheek on the mattress. Watching you. It is one of the few times he is relieved for his ease of sleep. So he can drift off, watching you live.

—----

The next morning, he places a cup of coffee next to your bedside table, and gives a nod to Sylus who has been reading one of your books, before returning to the Hunter's Association. He comes face to face with an excited Nero.

He almost takes a step back. Very nearly turns around and walks out, before he remembers he asked for something, "Xavier!"

Tara is following close behind, hiding her laughter behind her hand, "He's been waiting by the door for you."

"Three people responded that they're interested in talking to you. They're also happy to have notes taken, so I can help."

He wasn't sure he'd hear anything this quickly, he supposes he shouldn't be that surprised. Nero fixates on something, just as much as you do. His fixation tends to come in bursts of problem solving, yours comes in biting and tearing and clawing to the solution.

"Alright, let's go."

Jenna gives him time to talk, and he walks with Nero to a room where the three people are sat, chatting between themselves.

They still, and watch as he hesitates. An older man chuckles at him, waving his one hand, "Sit down, lad. We don't bite."

It moves his feet, into a chair, but not his mouth. He needs to move forwards, but he's not sure how.

What can he say? How can he help you? What words are there to help you move forwards?

He thinks about the trembling in your body, the tears that won't fall in your eyes. He is stuck. Xavier is stuck, like he's holding you under a meteor shower again. Shaking you.

Begging. For something.

A miracle.

"Nero already told us about your partner." A woman speaks, she sports a flexible keel prosthesis, "Not that we don't know about UNICORNs, you lot don't half make some noise." Her voice is cool, level, but she has a small smile. Warm eyes.

It eases him. "I wanted-"

"To ask questions right, lad? I can talk for hours for you."

So he lets them, as he listens. The old man works in analytics, collating information for the Association. He was born without his hand. Tried prosthetics, none took, he didn't want to keep trying.

"I accepted it straight away, my husband stood beside me. There are problems, but we work through them."

The young female hunter is from one of the Beta teams. Lost her foot in a fight with a wyrm, saved her partner in the process.

"I thought I'd accepted it, took the prosthetic training, everything went well. It was two years later, when I woke up one day, burst into tears. Couldn't stop." She fidgets, toying with her fingers for a moment, before straightening up, "Sometimes I still get sad, like I'm finally processing it, but normally it's just another day. It's a tool, not part of me, but it gave me most of my independence back. So even when I'm sad, I hold to that."

The third hunter twirls a pen around their prosthetic fingers, they're an arctic hunter, in the area for training. There's a large scar down their eye, and they don't react visually to the others, but leans forward to speak. They don't reveal how they gained their prosthetic.

"Didn't accept it, not for a long time. Woke up everyday angry, got reckless. Almost died." They exhale, deep, slow, tired, "Sometimes I'm still angry, but I'm still a fighter. I can still help my squad. So it's worth it. Took me longer to get around to using it than most, I dragged my feet, didn't want to learn for ages. It was my partner that got me moving, came to check in on me. Called me a fool, 'one life, idiot, keep living it'. So I did."

"It's hard sometimes, but people handle it differently."

Xavier sits and listens, they give tips on coming back to working as a hunter, they share everything he could even think to ask. Warm and ready, and understanding. They ask to meet you when you're back, tease him about his name and yours.

You're one of Jenna's best for a reason. Those hunter's reels certainly get watched a lot.

He tries not to think about the advertisements he's had to star in, either alongside you or alone. He's just relieved he doesn't get recognised as Lumiere.

That conversation would be even longer.

Hunters live a job at risk, he's aware of that… he can't stop thinking about it.

"Kid." He looks up, wants to correct the man, decides against it, "It's alright to be struggling, worrying about your partner. They're not gone though. Don't sit in the past. Get help yourself, but remember to share with them. Let that partner of yours know how you feel, they'll feel less isolated."

His shoulders jump, the chill in his back. He's been fatalising. Acting like you're broken when he knows that's what you're fearing. Thinking of you like you're gone, when you're right in front of him.

Stuck in the past…

Guilt and pain and worry making him think about you like he'll lose you if he stops.

You're alive, and you're moving forwards, and he needs to as well. With you. "Thank you." This thanks, he thinks, feels more honest. Like he's not biting his tongue to say it.

When Xavier returns home, he doesn't mind the plate left in the fridge for him.

He doesn't mind that the most wanted man of Philos is chuckling with your head in his lap, because he joins you on the sofa, and listens to you tell them about your sessions.

He has to remember you're capable of protecting yourself, you've always wanted to stand equal. Protecting others, as much as they protect you. Stubborn, and proud, to a fault sometimes.

As you smile, small and crooked at him, he offers you the notes he and Nero finished compiling.

You read them, eyes wide, and glimmering, before wrapping your arm around his neck.

"Thank you Xavier."

It's good to not be alone, he thinks. It's been far too long. Too many he's had to lose… That he's forgotten how to reach out, how to even take a hand, let alone stop himself from holding too tight out of fear.

He doesn't want to forget your future.

Even when Sylus smirks, calls him a little knightling, and he debates if you really need a support system that includes the criminal.

—----

Progress is steady. You struggle, and you stumble. But you remember the laughter in the kitchen and the beast dropping off your back to curl about your ankle.

You think about the notes handed to you by Xavier, carefully recorded accounts of acknowledgment, support… life.

You think about Tara, Simone and Nero. How much you want to get back to standing alongside them.

You think about gentle hands taking care of you in the bathroom while you shivered, and warm meals with arguing voices.

You think about Caleb. What he'd say if he were with you.

And you take one step at a time.

When you are not in front of Doctor Rin, clinging far too tightly to whoever's hand is turning bone white in your grip, you are practicing at home.

She's asked you what your goal was, the point you're aiming for.

It is easier, she reminds you, to have something to achieve.

It's an easy question, you want to be back in the field again, you want to make your life mean something. You want to fight alongside the people you trust, and not leave them to flounder alone.

When you are a hunter again, and taking on missions, that's when you'll have achieved your goal. You tell her, hand in a fist.

Her smile overlaps with Gran's, the day you'd told her and Caleb you got into the academy. You think about the way he'd poked you in the forehead, then ruffled your hair, 'Way ta go pipsqueak.'

You think he'd be pulling your hand, running forwards, if he were here. Just like he pulled you forwards everytime you got injured in a fight. Just like he pulled when you wanted to give up.

The memory keeps you from stopping.

Over the course of weeks, you set yourself challenges.

It starts with challenging yourself to hold your prosthetic.

It's not as heavy as you think it should be. The logical part of your brain reminds you that it's built for hunters specifically, and is replacing your arm.

It's that logical part of your brain that stops you from throwing it away from you. It is a tool, you tell yourself. Something that will ensure you can still be a hunter. That eventually, at the end of this, you will be able to go back to doing what you should be doing. Using your life to help others. No matter how short it is.

Some days it feels like it burns you when you place your hand on it. Those days, you leave your room, and sit by Rafayel as he paints. Watching him work, seeing the world he sees. 

You ask him questions about his work, even though part of you worries you'll disturb him. He never indicates you are, answering you happily. You think he's happy to share, you hope he is. You're happy to listen.

One day you see his open sketchbook.

For a second, you see a sketch of you, worn and tired… but alive. Your body scarred, but you tremble to see yourself looking like art on his page.

You close the book, placing it back by his canvas, and go back to the prosthetic. To try again.

You learn to wear it, for short periods of time a day, to build up to throughout the day.

You start off, managing twenty minutes, before you have to rip the thing off. Relieved when Zayne catches your hand, stopping you from doing any damage to it. Before he helps you ease yourself out.

The straps are easy to adjust with one hand, but when you want it off, it feels as though you are on fire. Tearing at clothing melting into your skin.

He sits next to you and massages your residual limb, fingers easing hair from your face, tracing lines on your cheek. The fire in your body settles at the cool touch of his hands, and you settle again.

Later, you try again. When it burns, you remember the ice of Zayne's touch, and keep going.

The next stage is to clean it. You learn the motions, you study how to do it. Sat in the living room, tools to your side, figuring out how best to do it with one hand.

There are days when you drop the tools. Trying hard not to sob as they tumble to the floor. Choking back tears as your hand doesn't work the way you want it too. As you fail to follow the steps correctly. As you spill leather conditioner on the table, or the carpet.

In those moments, someone will join you at your side. Sylus will pull the tools away, and sit next to you, running through the motions he's been learning as he's watched you. Overtime, it becomes routine. He masters the steps before you do, assisting you, cleaning out the inner socket alongside as you gently clean the leather straps. Other times, Xavier, hesitant and unsure about touching your prosthetic, joins you. Head in your lap. You speak the steps out loud, running through them so he can learn them with you. The next time, he does it himself, calm and kind and warm. Smiling at you as he does so.

Everyday is a day to take your medication, your wounds are healing well, and with the care of those around you, you are coming away with scars, but no longer bleeding through bandages.

The final challenge is the practice, the movement and the acquainting yourself with the movement of your limb.

You sit in the hospital room you can't stand, hand anchored in Sylus', who has joined you for today. It is another day, and the weight of walking through corridors has eased somewhat. You know the passage of time means things become easier, you're used to that. The flow, the adjustment. The steps forward, and stumbles back.

Your heart has given you some experience in this.

Doctor Rin greets you easily, awaiting your arrival. As soon as she sees you, she smiles. It is that same warm smile that makes the ghosts lurk at your shoulders. It is an exhale to steady you, before you return it with a half smile. Hard enough to offer expressions, without the added grief pulling you back.

It passes easier than you expect. An introduction to the exercises you need to practice, information about not forcing yourself until you hurt. To take breaks and come back to it, if you fail five times, stop. Try again later.

To practice every day. It is a skill you have to learn. Not unlike when you were learning to use your weapons, struggling to learn how to aim. Falling down everytime you swung a claymore.

It is simple things. Can you open and close your new hand? Can you rotate your wrist?

It is a mountain, one you are scared to try to climb.

There is the stable hand in yours, a man who chuckles at you as you look at him, seeking out something in molten eyes. You don't like being weak in front of Sylus, despite him offering you the space to be yourself. It is a long standing fear.

You are more scared to be alone, however, so you turn back to the doctor.

You remind yourself of boxing training with Sylus, who teases you when you don't punch fast enough, but takes you in earnest. Rights your stance. Watches you practice. Praises you for improvement.

Challenges you to be better.

This is another tool you can use, something to enable you to fight again. To stand by him and fight again.

So you follow the doctor's instructions. It is an almost unconscious feeling. She has explained how the transmitters work, but you don't want to think about it too much. Understanding is something, you need it to be instinctual. If it's not, you won't be able to fight again.

Still, you feel yourself overextend. Overcompensate movement where it was once easy. The hand stares back at you as you watch it, and you try to remember what you used to do. Extend. Feel where the muscles should tense along your shoulder. Close. Open.

It reacts, but it is slow. Metal fingers steadily opening, closing. You try to twist your wrist, but it doesn't move the way you want. Frustration builds. You try again. You feel your shoulder twitch but nothing happens.

Your teeth grit, and you try again.

"Kitten." The voice calls you back, a firm grip takes your chin, turning your head to focus on his molten eyes again. There is a twinkle in there, his normally ever present smirk has evened out. Serious but calming. You watch the red of his eyes swirl, and you feel him smooth his thumb across your cheek. "Don't chase your tail, take a deep breath, try again."

He pushes you forwards. Always. Testing your limits, watching you grow.

You think about ways you'd trained your body to fight, ways you made yourself stronger. Running with Zayne, practicing with the blade with Xavier, maneuvers with Rafayel, strength training with Sylus. You are not going to stop until you learn how to use this.

Until you achieve that goal.

This time, when you try, it comes a little easier, as you calm yourself down. Heart settling into a steady rhythm and you watch the hand move. Twisting the wrist, opening and closing it. Pride settles in your chest, as you grin at it. Relief and satisfaction, that you haven't failed. You turn and you twist and watch in awe.

The fingers open a little quicker, you practice moving them but the individual movements are sluggish, and you try to pick things up, but you drop them more than you hold them.

When Sylus nudges you with his shoulder, smirking at you, you take on the pride in his eyes, and you keep moving forwards.

You hit a wall when you have to stretch it out properly, bending the elbow joint, but you settle.

You take the challenge.

It is a mountain you will learn to climb.

You learned how to be a hunter, you can learn this.

As you walk home with Sylus, twisting the arm despite your fatigue, he chuckles, "You look like you've received a new toy. You're like this when I get you a new gun."

You sniff at him, poking him with the metal hand, though its clumsy and more of a full hand than a finger. Marvelling at the feeling of heat from him that comes through the prosthetic. "You just wait, soon I'll be swinging a sword again."

He pauses, looking at you, and then laughs. A chuckle that shakes his hand in yours, and then pulls you in to flick your forehead, "Alright Kitten, let's get you there."

The exercises continue at home, you move into the kitchen while Sylus cooks, to practice with a ball. The more you do it, the easier it gets to learn the motions. Every new thing you try, however, is a hurdle you feel sick to overcome.

Sometimes the movement refuses to do as you want. So you remove it, and try not to cry, try not to drown, and find a distraction.

When you try to pick up a cup, you watch in horror as you drop it, smashing it across the floor. Sylus pulls you away from the fragments, soothing the upset, over breaking something. Over failing. Over being this.

After that you stick to things that won't break, won't hurt you. It still aches when you drop something, when you fail. You're never alone in the pain for too long, there is always a constant, someone there to keep you from spiralling.

The more they catch you, the less you need catching. Until you pick up a cup, and you laugh. Pride brimming. An achievement, no broken shards. A tool you are learning to use.

Later, when you're tired, but relieved, you sit at the kitchen table as Sylus sings along to a song in your playlist as he cooks, there is no Rafayel to argue with, so he seems far calmer. Happy. He always seems happy when he sings.

"Sy?"

He hums, looking back at you. His smiles are often more warm eyes than movement of his mouth, quirks and twitches. "What's wrong Kitten?"

You hesitate, thinking about how many days you've seen him stood at the counter, preparing food for you, and the others. It is guilt on your shoulders, but it is also relief and thankfulness. He is a warm presence, always answering the phone when you need him. "Can I help?"

He shrugs, "Sure, come and stir." So you join him, it is not a hard task, but you feel a little more like you're here. Helping.

Living and not existing. The creature at your ankle stirs and purrs, eased and happy.

You haven't heard it settle in such a long time.

"Thank you." You speak, staring into the pot, watching the swirling at the end of your spatula.

The man stands next to you and shrugs, unbothered, "Not a problem, kitten. I've told you, ask, demand, request. You can be greedy with me." He reaches over and flicks your forehead, before tapping your nose. "I'm always here for you. Even if you do let our food burn."

You panic as the heat bubbles over, and quickly turn it down, and he simply laughs at you. So you elbow him in the side, and revel in the way his laugh blossoms harder.

When you eat with everyone that evening, you help ladle out food, and set the table. You don't run away to the darkness of your room, and you add the laughter around you to your collection of reasons to keep moving.

[achilles-rage]

hiiii hope im not to late to your prompt party.

how about “tracing a finger across your lover’s scar” and “kissing your lovers forehead or knuckles” for Buck

because I’m a cool lightning strike scar truther 🫙

yess i’m so glad i got a fluffy prompt request!! i was expecting mostly smut ones, so i love this!! this is also an idea i've had for a while, but never got around to writing, so i'm glad i finally got to write it!! also, i know these scars wouldn’t last that long, but just pretend<3

"tracing a finger across your lover's scar" and "kissing your lovers forehead or knuckles" from this post

you still remember the night there was a knock on your door. you weren’t expecting anyone, which was the first red flag, but when you looked through the peephole and saw the familiar fabric of an lafd uniform, you knew something was terribly wrong. 

you could barely look at buck shirtless for weeks; the lightning scars across his torso too painful of a reminder of when you saw him in the hospital. of when his heart stopped. 

3 minutes and 17 seconds.

when buck had finally noticed what you were doing; turning the a/c up so it was too cold for him to sleep shirtless, and always coming up with excuses to either of you taking off clothes during sex, he finally pieced everything together.

“baby, what’s going on? why don’t you want to see me anymore?” he asks, arms crossed over his chest as he stands in front of you in your shared bedroom.

you blink slowly, feeling tears well up in your eyes as you take in his hurt expression. you don’t want to tell him the truth, you don’t want to make it into a big deal. and you especially don’t want to face that he had died. not again.

“i can’t look at those scars everyday, buck. it fucking hurts.” you tell him, voice cracking. 

his brows furrow as he studies your face, and then his expression falls, realization dawning on his face.

“what, you think they’re ugly? you don’t think i’m attractive anymore?” you can see the tears in his eyes, and you shake your head quickly, closing the distance between the two of you and cupping his cheeks in your hands.

“oh, baby, no. of course not.” you assure him in a soft voice. you can’t believe yourself; you’ve put your needs completely over his. you didn’t even think of how this would look to him. “it’s just that, all i think about when i see those scars is how you left me. you died, buck, and then you were in a hospital bed, in a coma. you have no idea what that was like for me. for a while, we didn’t even know if you’d even wake up.” 

he lets out a shaky breath as a tear runs down his cheek, nodding slowly at your words. it’s true, he doesn’t know what that was like, and he feels an odd sense of guilt filling his belly.

“i’m sorry. i just thought that-” he whispers, leaning forward and pressing his forehead against yours as he lets out a long sigh.

you shake your head, smiling sadly as you keep his face right against yours, feeling a tear fall down your own cheek.

“don’t you dare apologize. i’m sorry. i didn’t think about how you’d take what i was doing. your scars aren’t ugly. at all. you’re still you, and you’re still as handsome as you were without your scars, i promise. it was only ever about the memories attached to those scars.” you tell him, voice firm enough for him to believe you, yet soft enough to know that you’re not upset in any way. 

you feel him nod against your forehead, and you finally pull back from him and place a kiss on his forehead, lips lingering on his skin for a second or two longer than normal.

“i love you.” you whisper when you pull back, smile softly as you see the sadness and uncertainty melting from his features. “now take off your shirt.”

he raises a brow, a glimpse of his usual self coming back as he smirks down at you and places his hands on your hips.

“are you trying to get me naked, pretty girl?” he teases, and you laugh softly, shrugging.

“just your shirt, lover boy. wanna see you.” you tell him with a smile, turning him around and pushing him down to sit on the bed. 

he pulls his shirt off quickly, and when it’s off, you’re quick to straddle his lap and push his back down onto the bed. you let your fingers drag across his skin, tracing the patterns of the scar littering his torso. your eyes follow the path of your fingers, touch feather-light as you take in every dark patch of skin. 

buck can feel his heart pounding in his chest as he watches you, eyes darting between your face and your fingers as his hands squeeze your hips, keeping you firmly in place.

when you finally look back up at him, you smile, fingers still pressed against his chest.

“beautiful boy.” you whisper, then lean down and begin to press gentle kisses to his scars, starting at the tips of each lightning strike, then moving up and kissing where each branch of lightning separates from the other, moving in different directions across his tan skin.

he doesn’t know what to do as he relishes in your touch, your attention to his scars feeling so overwhelming and mind numbing. he hadn’t told anyone, but he’s a little insecure about his scars. everyone tells him how cool they look, but he just doesn’t see it. it just reminds him of what happened to him, and what he could’ve lost.but, now, he doesn’t feel bad about them at all, because you like them, and that’s all that matters.

[takes1]

i am really in love with the way you write asahi!!!! really looking forward to part 2 of tipsy playfighting with him 😊😊😊

[final part] asahi getting rough with petite!reader

hellooooo thank you so much!!! was thiiiis 🤏close to doing a daddy kink thing, chose not to because that's kind of polarizing. like... pineapples on pizza

warnings. heavy nsfw, minors DNI

details. fem!reader / rough sex / f!rec oral / asahi is the perfect dominant / submissive!reader / aftercare king / fingering / mutual size kink / playfighting kink / rough play kink / power struggle fetish / pseudo-bdsm themes / pet names / mentions of subspace / mid-sex communication / being way too loud / daichi being a great friend / 3.5k words

links. my masterlist. my ao3. more haikyuu. part one here.

'Kind of' made you stall at the top of the stairs.

The second floor, you realized, was all bedrooms. Your legs got heavy, your heart beating like a panicked bird in a cage.

It was ironic. Your ability to handle him downstairs came naturally, but as soon as you had some privacy, it all got intimidating.

Asahi paused after turning the corner. He eased back against the wall with a breath. He glanced to the staircase one more time to make sure nobody had followed you.

"There's nothin' to help with," He laughed, rubbing the side of his stubbly face, "I just- yeah, that was a super lame excuse, actually."

You stood with your hands clasped in front of you, a polite smile, trying to flex all the shivers down. Your crush on him reached its peaks and valleys throughout your years in school together. It reached a happy medium until tonight, starkly reminding you of your old, pushed-down feelings.

He was wicked cute, and that whole performance downstairs was cut too short.

A big breath led to a bigger sigh, "I really wanted to kiss you."

"Me too," You said, with almost no time to let his words settle.

Asahi covered his automatic laugh, and you shared a wholesome moment of mutual, nervous relief.

"Well, uh-," He seethed, eyes up to the ceiling, face much warmer, "If we're being totally honest-,"

The cheers downstairs cut him off. It sounded like Kageyama might have won his match, but neither of you cared.

Asahi suggested, instead, "Should we- go somewhere more private?"

Although you nodded, you weren't sure where he had in mind until he showed you into Daichi's bedroom. You raised your brow, taking in his posters, his books, the layout, feeling a bit guilty that he wasn't in here.

"Oh, I made sure it was cool with him if we- um, talked, in here," He explained.

The supportive body language from those two made infinitely more sense, but you doubted it that ended at 'talking.' You kept your excitement under the surface, for now.

"Right."

He sat on the mattress, a little invested in the feel of the sheets, by the way his hand slid and prodded over the thread count. The ache between your legs was starting to make your whole body cold.

Daichi had those glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling, and you didn't want to leave it up to Asahi to fill the silence, so you tried, "How long do y'think he's had those?"

There were at least 20, you counted. When you looked back down, he was relaxed forward, elbows rested on his knees, with his face in his hands, staring straight at you. Screw the ceiling.

He cleared his throat, his eyes flickered dismissively up, "Oh, um- forever, I'm sure."

Asahi was a terrible liar. You were glad he was honest with you in the hall, because he had zero capacity for beating around the bush. His intentions were spoken for, but now they were transparent in his clouded, almost tormented eyes. He made it seem difficult to look at you without touching you.

"You said you wanted to kiss me, right?" The decision to make it easy for him was met with a huge shift in his expression, an ease you saw, earlier, that spread as he ran his hands along your sides.

A gentle brush of his thumb across your cheek, "I did."

Kissing him was simple- it didn't feel rushed, or confusing, at all. He made it all a pleasant and invigorating experience to follow his lead.

His fingers spread through your hair, at the base of your neck. A strong but soft pull brought you into the warm embrace of his body.

He smelled good- mostly like the aged liquor he was nursing most of the night, but a bit woody, with hint of cashmere. Even his scent made you feel taken care of.

"So," You caught your breath for a second, taking in his face as you tucked some hair behind his ear, "Are you sure Daichi's fine with us- talking, all over his bed?"

The way his eyes lit up during his chuckle made you grin, validated and light.

His lips smushed against yours again. He was lifting you up by the waist, setting you on your back with proud effortlessness. You kept your arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, getting your fill of his hair while you could.

Before he could completely forget to respond, he hummed a preoccupied, "Yeahh, don't worry about'm."

A hand pinned yours against the mattress.

All he needed was a little reassurance, and he was no longer the sheepish wimp you knew him to be. For a while, when those hot summer seasons coincided with the throws of your crush, it was fun to imagine what he might be like. Now, there was proof, and he didn't disappoint.

The growing pressure he placed on you kept you flat, and slowly limited your ability to move. It was getting familiar.

You tried to move your hand from under his, unlace it, just to touch him, but it proved impossible.

A small chuckle, a little mutter against his temple as he struck crude kisses down the side of your neck: "Can I have my hand back?"

The skin over his knuckles was tough, and his palms were leathery, firm, from all the lifting he did. His strength alone spoke for his dedication, but you felt pleased to know these intimate details about his body.

Your request was met with your other hand being taken hostage. It wasn't fast, but he did it so naturally that you didn't think to move away.

The look he gave you perfectly represented the edge under his words.

"You want your hands back?"

It was a tease-- a way of telling you 'I know you can't move, but I want to see you try.'

You grew warm under the weight of his subtle, playful pushing-- both between your legs and over your palms.

Robbed of your autonomy, but still finding yourself exhilarated by the reality of his size, and his capacity to use it well, the only thing left to do was play along with him. If he had a real thing for this, you wanted to know just how far it went, how worked up it could get you both.

A tiny attempt to pull your arms closer was met with his easy, slow adjustment to cross them instead, above your head. He kissed you through it, all warm and gentle and kind and safe-- but curiously engrossed in your inability to physically overcome him.

It sent a warm chill down your back- flexed, lingering in another ache between your thighs.

His lips were so soft, and sweet, and light, contrasted well against the slight burn of his stubble.

"Mm-," Asahi sighed, a soft peck to your cheek so he could collect himself, "You're givin' up already?"

The warm spill of his words across your face, plus the thrill of his little challenge, had you squirming, all knotted up and itching for him to give you more than just kisses.

"You--," You tensed at his slow, messy sucking along your jaw, "You-mm! Know I can't move..."

Maybe he was taking pity on you- maybe it was your whiny admission fueling a more licentious desire, inspiring him to let you go so he could start stripping you. You delighted in the chance it gave you to watch his reactions.

Soon, you were fully nude- and he was still fully clothed, with no foreseeable urgency to even the imbalance out.

Instead, he let a hand overlap your waist, eyes still busy scouring over you, "Are you gonna be okay?"

"Dunno," You mumbled, playing with his fingers as you shot a look to his fly, "Maybe you should check."

Your coquettish quip earned a hasty, rough, but amused kiss. You writhed against his weight again, this time with a justifiable anticipation at the sound of him pulling his cock out.

It was hot as it fell against your skin. A welcome feeling of closeness you couldn't get from much else, just being skin to skin with somebody else. It made you feel a bit like melted butter.

He pushed himself up to take his shirt off, all the while examining his length, pushing it down so that he could measure it in relation to your small torso.

"We'll have to, um..." You trailed, a shaky exhale at his burly, tanned physique, "Be.."

The word 'careful' fell apart on your tongue. Now he was measuring his fingers, next to his cock. One hand remained idle wrapped around the bulk of your thigh.

It was indeed fascinating how some body types probably shouldn't try to come together, like you were. Seemed like an evolutionary flaw.

Especially because the look in his eyes was nothing short of carnivorous. It was occasionally batted back by bouts of concern for the logistics of it all.

"I've got a few ideas," He smiled, real handsome, real sweet, down at you.

Curious, you watched all your favorite muscles of his work and relax again as he backed up off of the mattress, standing at the edge of the bed.

In a second, you had been pulled closer, then adjusted in front of him- it left you breathless at the simple ease of it all. You fixed your hair, a glossy and fixated admiration in your gaze up to him.

Awed, you told him in a shaky giggle, "I really like that..."

Asahi leaned over you; a timid and flattered sigh prickling up your skin, "Yeah?"

His rough hands pinched at your hips as he kissed a messy trail down your tummy.

Whispered, just as his knees hit the carpet, "I like it, too."

It was impossible to not get excited. He always stuck you as a guy with more patience than most.

Patient was a good word to describe the way he ate you out-- he may have liked to toss you around, but it wasn't out of carelessness, or negligence. It was an exploration of boundaries, a bit of power play, and this was played right into the dynamic. His performance wasn't perfect, or void of little, silly hiccups, but it was endearing and fun to discover together.

After he got you warmed up, he began slowly, one by one, pushing his fingers into you.

"How's that feel?"

It was a curious, but flirty question.

He already knew how much you were enjoying yourself, how you were trying to keep yourself quiet under your hand, struggling to not roll your hips into his hand. He just wanted to hear you.

A raspy sigh, a distracted nod, "So g-ood--,"

"Takin' me soo well," He grinned, sucking another messy kiss to you, "Y'want another?"

It wasn't exactly audible, but he was watching that sweet, desperate little expression on your face enough to know you did.

You could feel his smile spread- making your thighs flinch, your body curl at the intensity of getting stretched even further.

"You're so cute."

A mumbly admission, buzzing just right onto you. You were so full of him, reeling in how thick three of his fingers were, and dangerously close once he concentrated on your clit.

Soon you were gripping harder, twitching, then squeezing him--, "H-ah-!"

You started begging when nonverbal queues didn't get through.

"Asahi- asahi, please-ah," You huffed, starting to feel your climax rushing in, threatening to take hold of you, "I'm s-o close-!"

You thought he would stop, for favor of dragging this out longer, but he didn't slow down, nor did he let off of you. The only change was his grip tightening, gripping into your skin. A twitch of your thigh, trying to push on him, was met with a powerful pull to keep it far away, to the side and keep you opened up.

The pressure it brought only added to your rapture- he was actively getting off to watching, hearing, feeling you beg for a break. He loved it.

"Mmn-!" Pulling on his hair did you no favors, other than encouraging that slow, constant swirl of his big tongue around your swollen clit.

In the end, the harshness in your brow, in your clawing fingers, your shaky thighs, all softened under his steady hold. He felt so good taking you apart, then bringing you all back together.

Another messy kiss, so sweet- but so mean, shoved you over the steep edge.

He could feel you tighten, pulse around his fingers and filled you to the knuckle; a tipsy, crooked smile barely visible under his working tongue.

It took so long to come out of the throws of your orgasm that he was already back on top, filling the space above you. You quickly locked your legs around him, hands guiding his face up for a kiss.

His knack for multitasking never stopped. You were given so many gentle, attentive kisses as he put you in the center of the bed, where there was finally room for the both of you.

He wanted you on your elbows and knees. Numb, and tingly, and pliable, you let him adjust you the way he wanted; you kept your debaucherous smile to yourself.

You needed every second of that foreplay to take him- he was the biggest you had ever been with. Thankfully, he also happened to be the sweetest.

"Ooh my god," Your trembling was quelled by the weight of his body.

His groan was low, stuttery, at your tight pussy clenching hard all around him.

He caught his breath, a pretty moan in the back of his throat, "Shit."

His praises were loosely strung together, punctuated in little kisses to the back of your head as he placed his elbows on the mattress, at your sides. If he had been watching, he probably wouldn't have lasted very long.

It was getting rough, quickly, but you found his kind attention more than enough to keep you relaxed.

"Mm-!" You muffled a cry, fisting the sheets while he chuckled at how cute all your little sounds were, hungry for more.

In one fluid motion, he had your arms pinned; one was tucked under you, the other was extended far out in front of you. The responsive gasp was more of your body, reacting on its own, but it was an invigorating thing to consider. He was such a timid guy, so every dirty thing he said or did still took you by surprise.

It was just like how you finished your match earlier, with one big difference.

"Mmnh-aAh! Augh-ah-Mm!"

Your surprised, whiny sounds spilled free against the sheets. His cock filled every bit of you- it felt so good your breath was getting shorter, harder to catch.

You couldn't see it, but he drank that messiness up, a furrowed concentration in his brow to keep giving it to you as hard as you needed.

"You like that?" His voice was right in your neck again, buzzed.

It melted your resistance away- you couldn't even squirm, couldn't tell him yes. You were so full, so close already, that when he stalled deep and cruel, to let you think, your euphoria was barely interrupted. You cried, tearless, drooling a little on Daichi's sheets.

"You wanna talk to me, sweetie?"

The kindness in his voice right now should've been illegal. You breath was getting shaky, your vision long since useless.

"T-ell me-mm, how it feels," He muttered, still egging you on, a kiss to the tip of your ear.

His voice fell away from you, your heart pounding in your ears- you were just swimming in delectation. His warmth, his sure delivery of careful pleasure, his gravelly, well-meaning taunts. It was starting to take you far away, for the first time.

You noticed, but didn't react to his retracting hands, nor the readjustment of his weight off of you.

He was deeply troubled that you hadn't responded to him.

If Asahi had been any more experienced or confident, he would've known the clear signs of subspace-- but considering his experience ended at some casual sex, and the absence of conversation, and not understanding of either of your limits, he thought he fucked up, bad.

You were just different. That made him nervous.

Concern laced his voice quick, a sobering sound.

"Hey?" There were a couple taps to your cheek, and when you got your focus back, he was bending to try to get a good look at your face.

You gave a weak smile, "Mm?"

"You okay?"

A big stretch, an otherwise silly invitation for him to put his hands back on top of yours, "Mmmmhm..."

The way you sat back a little, pushing yourself gently onto his cock, made him take a second. A quick moment to suck in a restrained breath. Then a reserved, relieved chuckle.

"Are you- sure?" Was his last attempt. Now he was noticing the shakiness from your legs, your irregular breathing.

He put a tiny peck to your temple, fingers carefully running over your side.

You gave a close-mouthed whine and winced away at the ticklish sensation, "God-- Just fuck me please,"

When he was watching where to put his hands, he noticed your wiggly fingers, and grinned- happy to take you up on the offer, again.

He met your light pushing with stronger, steady strokes that kept you gasping- whiny, with pleasure.

Your endurance was absolute garbage, when it came to his unconventional way of treating you. Neither of you were expecting it to click so well- not as just-friends, for years, with on-and-off separate partners and countless, ill-timed crushes on each other.

It was amusing to think of how different this would make your 'friendship' now. How could you tell the team you were dating, after they watched what was essentially half of your foreplay downstairs?

This orgasm washed over you in shorter, smaller waves than the first- but it took so long to fully crest that it felt a thousand years longer.

You weren't particularly loud, this time, but now that he was paying so much attention to you, he spoke you through it with unparalleled timing.

"Good, fuck- that's good," He sighed, huffy, in your ear.

His hand quickly clasped over your mouth before you could make a sound.

Though you felt so perfect, the little scare you gave him warded off any chance he had at cumming, too. It'd have to wait for some other time. The satisfaction from getting you to this point was more than enough payoff for him.

"Good girl."

You had never felt so disconnected from your own body before. It was like you felt your climax about two rooms down the hall- and all it left you with was some invisible, heavy blanket all across your limbs.

For all that was worth, it was pretty cool.

His quiet shushing, all in your ear, was the evidence you needed that you hadn't been entirely present. You weren't sure when he started and when he stopped.

"You're okay- you're okay," He cooed, thumb gently brushing your warm cheek.

He held you incredibly still, listening, watching, for you, before pulling out.

You felt like a heavy bag of sand.

In fact, after he had shifted slowly off you and leaned closer, the way you slumped down was akin to one. Maybe more of a bag of concrete mix, instead.

It was staggering to believe your sweet, silly, nervous Asahi took it out of you, like that.

"You okay?" He was ultra-gentle, now, sliding featherlight touches over your back.

It was just enough to keep you awake.

"(Y/n)?"

You didn't realize you needed to respond. A slow, laborious sigh. You opened your eyes and were surprised to see him, once again, leaning over you to watch your face.

"Yeah..."

It didn't convince him- he looked like he was going to call an ambulance.

"I'm- tired," You went to push yourself up.

The intense quivering in your arms stopped you. Having to push back against him for so long was exhausting, and now you were completely spent. You wondered if it had anything to do with the little fight earlier, too.

He shook his head when he noticed you try to move on your own again, "Nono, I got you."

For the millionth time tonight, his ability to pick you up, from whatever position he found himself in, left you in a delighted daze. He set you so that you at least had a pillow under your head.

"You need some water? Let me go get some for you real quick."

You did feel pretty dried up. Like a dead, frail flower.

A tiny nod, and he was rushing to put on enough clothes, zipping out the door in search of water. You fell asleep in the short time he was gone, too sleepy to pull the covers over you or to roll to your side.

"Mmh..."

It had only been a minute or so.

But you felt a thousand years old, getting woken up from an ancient slumber, when a soft throw blanket was covering you- a big, gentle hand over top of it, rubbing your shoulder to rouse you.

Asahi settled to your side, watched closely as you drank, and pressed more kisses to the side of your head. He reached over you to set the bottle on the bedside table.

"Thank you," You leaned into him, then decided to give him a little edge of the blanket, too, and rested your head on his chest, "I'm okay."

"Good."

He was warm. You squeezed an arm over him.

"How are we gonna tell everyone?" You mumbled, against his tummy.

"I-... don't think we need to."

Confused at what he meant by that, you stopped trying to burrow into him, and propped up a little to look him in the face.

"Uh-," He tilted his head from side to side, a little warmth on his tan features, "We weren't...exactly...quiet."

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[woozinhos]

Hello !! How are you doing? Can I ask you how Jun dominates me PLEASE I THINK A LOT ABOUT HIM

I’m okay thanks anon slipped on some ice today so not the best my fic writing is cheering me up!

Suck me

Jun has always had a certain presence that you can't help but be drawn to. He's confident, assertive, and exudes an air of authority that leaves you feeling both intimidated and excited. One day, as you're sitting on the couch, lost in thought, Jun walks in and immediately pins you down, straddling your waist and holding your wrists above your head.

"You look like you're thinking too much," he says, his voice low and husky.

You gasp as Jun pins you down, your heart racing in your chest. You've always been attracted to his dominance, and having him so close, so in control, is sending a thrill through your body.

"Jun..." you murmur, trying to squirm out from under him.

He just smirks down at you, his grip on your wrists tightening. "You're not going anywhere," he says. "Not until I'm done with you."

You stop struggling, a mixture of excitement and anticipation coursing through your veins. Jun's eyes darken as he looks down at you, his gaze filled with desire.

"Good girl," he says, his voice rough with lust. "You're going to do exactly what I say, aren't you?"

You nod, unable to form words under his intense gaze. Jun's smirk widens as he sees your submission.

"That's right," he says, leaning down to whisper in your ear. "You're mine to use however I want."

He releases your wrists and moves his hands down your body, his touch sending shivers down your spine. He starts to undress you slowly, his eyes roaming over your body as more skin is revealed.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his fingers tracing over your curves. "And all mine."

Once you're fully undressed, Jun takes a step back to admire the view. His eyes rake over your body hungrily, taking in every inch of your skin.

"On your knees," he commands, his voice firm.

You quickly get down on your knees in front of him, your heart racing with anticipation. Jun looks down at you, a satisfied smirk on his face.

"That's a good girl," he says, running his fingers through your hair. "You know exactly how to please me, don't you?"

You nod, your eyes fixed on his face. He looks so powerful standing over you, and you feel a shiver of submission run through your body.

"Use your mouth," he says, his hand tightening in your hair. "I want to see how well you can please me with that pretty little mouth of yours."

You lean forward, your hands on his thighs as you start to mouth at his bulge through his pants. You can feel him growing harder under your touch, and it only serves to fuel your own desire.

Jun groans, his fingers tangling in your hair as he looks down at you. "That's it," he says, his voice rough. "Just like that."

You continue to mouth at him, your tongue tracing over the outline of his cock through his pants. He's fully hard now, straining against the fabric, and you can feel his hips starting to twitch with impatience.

"Stop teasing," he growls, tugging on your hair. "I want your mouth on me now."

You look up at him through your lashes, a coy smile on your lips. "Are you sure?" you ask, your voice innocent.

Jun's eyes darken with lust, his patience wearing thin. "I'm not going to ask again," he says, his voice low and commanding. "Take me out and suck me."

You quickly unbutton his pants and pull them down, his cock springing free. He's already hard and leaking precum, and you can't help but lick your lips in anticipation.

"Good girl," he murmurs, his fingers still tangled in your hair. "Now get to work."

You take his cock in your hand, stroking him a few times before taking him into your mouth. You start slow, swirling your tongue around the tip and tasting his precum.

Jun groans above you, his grip on your hair tightening as he watches you. "Fuck," he breathes, his hips bucking slightly. "That feels so good."

You take him deeper into your mouth, your tongue working along the underside of his shaft as you start to bob your head up and down. He's thick and heavy on your tongue, and you can feel your own arousal building with each passing moment.

"That's it," he says, his voice ragged. "Take me deeper. I know you can."

You try to take him deeper, your jaw aching slightly as you try to accommodate his size. You look up at him, your eyes watering as you struggle to take him all the way down.

"You're doing so well," he praises, his hips starting to move in time with your movements. "You're taking me so deep, baby."

You keep going, your tongue working over his length as you try to please him. He's moaning above you, his breath coming in short gasps as he gets closer to the edge.

"I'm going to come," he warns, his grip on your hair almost painful now. "Swallow it all, baby."

You nod as best you can with his cock in your mouth, determined to do as he says. You can feel him tensing up, his body going taut as he nears his climax. With a deep groan, he spills himself into your mouth, his hot cum flooding your throat. You swallow it down, milking him for every drop until he's spent. He slumps back against the wall, panting heavily as he tries to catch his breath. "Fuck," he breathes, looking down at you with a mixture of satisfaction and desire.

"You're amazing," he says, pulling you up onto his lap. "I could get used to this."

[kudouusagi]

Pash Utsumi Hiroko Interview

It's sure to be a heartwarming, Fan & Fun experience!

It's about the moments you weren't able to see in the main series.

--Looking back at the scenario meetings, is there anything that stands out in your memory?

Like the fact that there was a longer version where (series writer) Ookouchi Ichirou, the producers, and I all came up with ideas for what to do in the OVA and decided on it, only to realize it didn't fit into the time limit plan I came up with myself and so it was rejected (laughs). Of course Reki and Langa are the main characters so they're going to appear in the OVA but we really wanted to include them all... and that would be difficult to do in one story so we made it into an omnibus format.

--What do you want people to pay attention to in this OVA?

I'd like it if you could check which scenes were shown in the PV. For example, Reki and the others play karuta, but what kind of karuta is it? Who's playing against who? Will Langa, who is bad at reading and writing, be okay?! In the part with Sakurayashiki and Nanjo set in the past, what was their high school life like? What were their fights like back then? How developed are Nanjo's muscles?! Also, the unknown life of Kikuchi, which was kept top-secret in the main story, is revealed...!?! And more!

--Please tell us about what you remember when looking back on recording the voices for this OVA.

I was happy to see that Hatanaka Tasuku-san, who plays Reki, and Kobayashi Chiaki-san, who plays Langa, were still the same Reki and Langa even though several years had passed. I didn't feel any time had past... ∞(eternal) Friendship! It was also memorable how Koyasu Takehito-san, who plays Ainosuke, struggled with a certain scene. Look forward to finding out which scene it was! It had been a while since I last did the voice recording for SK8, and it brought back memories for me, making me feel like SK8 was back!

--What exactly is the theme for this OVA...?

Since it is an omnibus format, there is no overall theme, but they're each filling a gap that wasn't able to be seen in the main story.

--In order to get to know the characters more deeply before the OVA is released, are there any behind-the-scenes details that you haven't revealed yet (that you couldn't show in the first season of the TV series)?

The different headband Reki is wearing in the OVA PV is a souvenir present from his sister Koyomi. It's shaped like an akabeko with a tiger pattern... it's quite unique. Reki only wears it at home. Langa doesn't care about clothes, so he'll wear anything that's comfortable to move in, so he's wearing something strange this time. Please check out the OVA to find out the details☆

--For those who are rewatching the first season of the TV series, what are some of the points you would like people to pay special attention to?

Don't miss anything! The relationship between MIYA and Reki, the outcome of Hiromi's fleeting love, the current fight scenes between Sakurayashiki and Nanjo, the vibe of the master and dog relationship between Ainosuke and Kikuchi, etc. The bond between Reki and Langa through the whole series and how it develops into friendship, keeps your eyes peeled on it till the very end!! And since the theme song for this OVA was created with the TV series in mind, so I'm certain it will improve your understanding if you watch the whole series and think of it while listening to it☆

--Finally, please give a message to the fans of "SK8". 

We're sorry to have kept you waiting for so long, but thanks to everyone who has been waiting that the day we can finally deliver it to you is fast approaching...! There's only a few more sleeps till the OVA is here ♬ How about going to the cinema to watch "SK8 EXTRAPART" as the finale to your New Year's celebrations? It's sure to be a heartwarming, Fan & Fun experience! Please look forward to its release☆

[quilly72]

GtsGro Products helpline this is Jacob how may I help you today. "

Jacob swiveled his chair over to his monitor as his headset hooked him up to a face to face call. He positioned himself squarely in frame as he accepted the request. He watched his screen intently as he waited for their screen to hook up.

With a small chirp the camera connected and Jacob watched as a college aged girl popped up the webcam aiming down on her. Her cardigan popped open as a white bra poked out. The girl stared up impatiently at the screen waiting for the conversation to start.

"what's your name" he asked to get the ball rolling'

The girl stammered as she winced and readjusted her bra.

"k. Kate it's Kate"

"nice to meet you how can I be of service today"

She paused for a second as she took a deep breath obviously annoyed with the situation. "I need you to fix this stupid growth I'm getting unexpected growth and I need it to be reversed before my date tonight."

"all right just let me write that down real quick" he started typing her symptoms into the notes section trying to get to the root of the problem."and what products have you been using"

She winced again. " The body amplification pills. You know the ones that are supposed to be a short mild burst."

You nodded as you watched her groan. "Okay just sit tight for me imma figure out what's going wrong and then we'll get you a solution. So are you unhappy with the product or are you..."

He was cut off as she shrieked.

She folded down out of frame before popping back up. "Your stupid pills are making me way bigger. I just wanted slightly bigger boobs for a couple hours instead I barely fit into the bra I got and last I checked I was 3 inches taller. None of my pants fit me. "

Jacob rifles through his notebooks. "Okay according to my notes here. The body amplifier pills are incapable of height growth. I think you have the wrong pills or maybe took too many"

"NOOO you don't understand. I only took one and I'm getting bigger "

Jacob rolled his eyes as he started to run out of patience none of the customers ever read the instructions and he was getting tired of it

Just then Kate grabbed at her overstuffed cardigan and pulled it apart. The buttons barely holding on as she let the cover fly off her shoulders resting on the chair behind her. "LOOK AT ME"

She heaved her chest forward. Now Jacob tried to remain professional but she did have quite the chest and she wasn't exactly not flaunting it for him to see.

"mm ahem" he snapped his focus back to her as he coughed "Now would you like to have some reversal pills shipped to your house. We can get them within 24 hrs but more than likely the temporary effects will wear off by then.

"YES YES I WANT THE PILLS SOMETHINGS OFF I CAN JUST.. FE.. FEELIT... SOMETHINGS HAPPENING!"

Jacob snapped all his attention to the screen as she sat up straight. "Oh shit" she muttered as she fell back against the chair. She began moaning and dahling as she wiped her face. Her body perspiration beyond normal means. Jacob watched as she shook and sputtered then right before him she grew.. much larger. Her breasts heaved forward. The cups barely managing to hold her in as she spilled over the edges. Her straps dug into her shoulders as she started to turn red. Her pants button flew up and into screen as he heard what sounded like denim tearing. Her cardigan fell to the ground as her hair grew longer down her body.

She finally came down from her high as she took in deep breaths between choking and muffled cries. "Did you see that I'm..." She sat back up to her full height as Jacob watched. She had obviously grown a lot bigger than she had expected based off the look on her face. Her arms darted around sizing herself up as she gasped.

"WHAT WHATS HAPPENING."

"my ass tore my pants there's a gaping hole".

Jacob rolled his eyes again as he started to slyly contact an emergency team filing the report. "Okay well if your on the pills you say you are then we will send the reversal pills over. Obviously your having some sort of adverse reaction but it should be manageable" he lied through gritted teeth.

He had never seen this severe of a reaction to their lowest grade growth pill she was either lying or ODing but he had never seen anything like this. Jacob motioned for his boss who began sauntering over.

He watched as Kate readjusted her webcam so it wasn't staring directly at her tits to Jacobs dismay.

He muted as she bent over. "What's wrong"

"I got a lady growing way bigger than usual on our temporary body amplifier pills I've never seen this before what do I do."

His boss pondered for a second. "Get an emergency team file request up and running but don't send it till your sure she will be a threat she should be fine." Jacob nodded as he turned back over to his screen.

She was wincing and panting again as she tried to get his attention. He unmuted as he popped his volume back up. "I'm back sorry for the.."

He pulled the headphones away as she shrieked into the mic. She was shaking and moaning again as he popped the headphones back on. "HEEELP MEEE"

He heard the sounds of denim rapidly tearing and shearing off as he heard her chair groan and creak from under her. Her head Rose our of frame. She panted and gasped for breath as her bra popped off. She reached a hand to cover herself as her arm braced against her growing cleavage.

She came to a slow stop asshw took in deep slow breaths before reajustingrhe cam and

Shooting a scared look into it. "PLEASE TELL ME YOU SAW THAT"

"yes I saw that the pills are on their way they have been fasttracked. Expect them within the next two hours."

"now tell me are you sure you took the correct dosage because as we both can see. Your half naked and obviously way too big for oursmall supplements."

Kate groaned. "I told you a million times I'm not lying I don't know what's happening. I only got one pill and I followed your instruction pamphlet to the letter.

Jacob was surprised she even knew that the pills came with instructions. "Alright then I've been assigned to monitor you till the pills come so make yourself comfortable."

Kate nodded as she winced again.

"something wrong"

"no no it's just Everytime it's starts I feel a twinge shoot across my back but I think I'm fine I still have a couple minutes before another spurt "

Kate leaned back and winced again as she grimaced.

"Kate.. KATE what's happening.

All he heard was moaning and hrolunting as she started shaking and trembling again. She heaved upwards. Her boobs pushing her arm out as they shot forward. She scrambled to cover herself as her panties shot off of her. The chair under her finally caved as she fell to the floor. Jacob watched as she fell out of the screen with a scream.

Kate rose back into frame shakily as she stood up. He watched as her chest then stomach then naval pushed past the table. Her thighs rising and settling into frame. She reached for the camera as she leaned it upwards. Jacob stared at her face as she craned over her cleavage which she still smooshed with her arm as she forced it into her chest.

"I'm too big you need to do something now I'm not stopping."

Jacob started filling out the file as he sent an emergency team the go ahead button. The faint siren picking up from the floors below as a team raced to the nearest truck. "Kate a team is on its way calm down well figure this out"

Kate nodded as she took a shaky breath . She grimaced before shutting her eyes shut tight." She whimpered as Jacob watched her shoot upwards " help meEeeEee.

Her head shot up hitting the ceiling as she fell backwards. Her bed cracking under her as she in cked the monitor to the ground. The table flipping over Asher legs kicked it up. "Shit fuck stupid legs where's the camera." She reached a hand outas she reached her webcam. Her face took up 80 percent of the screen as she winced again. "Help it's not stopping... It's speeding up"

She shot up again her head nearly back up to the ceiling.

"kafe listen to me calm down it speed up the more you freak out I need you to take calm deep breaths."

Kate shrieked as she shot up again. Her head hitting the ceiling as she fell to all 4s.jacob could hear the sirens through her mic in the distance. "There almost there just focus on breathing slowly."

Kate hyperventilated as she shot her eyes around. Searching for a solution. "Too big help me I can't keep growing I just wanted to look good for my datewhy is this happening"

She shot up again. Her cleavage swelling over the camera as the audio muffled. Her back cracked the ceiling as she began shrieking. Jacob tried to talk to Kate but it was useless as he watched her surge again.

A loud shriek pierced his headset as he watched the screen go black. "That's another adverse reaction. They're becoming more common eventually we are gonna get bit in the butt for this " his boss scrambled over.

"just erase any evidence of our involvement. Remember officially we don't exist." Jacob accessed what was left of her network as he began deleting files. He peered over his shoulder as he watched her break the horizon. Her 75 ft tall body shocked with electricity as the team brought her collapsing to the floor. Her body surged one more time crushing a neighbor's house before the team put the neutralizing agent in. Her body slowly returning to normal as they quarantined the area

[maldaptivedreamer]

i cliterally love your sevika sm :>

requesting a smut -- maybe a halfhearted fight or wtvr that leads to reader spitting on sev, but she wipes it and uses it on reader instead 🫣

heeey!! so cliterally fucking killed me, so thank you for that. also, i'm not sure when i'll be able to post it or finish it, but i wrote a little bit of this request. it'll be entirely bratty and stubborn so, maybe that's something to look forward to?

🥹 also tysm!! 🩷 i love writing for Sevika. i was and am really worried about doing her character justice

MINORS DNI NSFW 18+

Small Excerpt:

With a sneer, you spit at her feet and eye her with disdain. “You're Silco’s lapdog and nothing more."

Sevika's mechanical arm whirs to life and she pushes you into the wall, gripping your chin tightly. “I should make you get on your knees and clean that up, brat.” She seethes, smoke billowing from her nostrils. The thick haze surrounds you.

Your jaw clenches under her grip, but you refuse to back down. Meeting her glare with one of your own, you hiss. "Try it."

A vicious smirk curls onto Sevika's lips, revealing a glimpse of her sharp teeth. "Oh no… I think you’d like it too much, princess." She clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth, roughly dragging her finger across your bottom lip before grazing it over your teeth. “No. You deserve to beg. I want to destroy that pride of yours.”

She delights in your sharp reply, watching as you snap at her thumb. “I don’t beg.” You declare with venom in your voice.

“You will for me.” She assures arrogantly.

Your heart races, a mix of anger and something else you refuse to acknowledge. Sevika's grip on your chin tightens, her mechanical fingers digging into your skin. You can feel the heat radiating off her body, smell the smoke on her breath.

Gathering the spit in your mouth, she anticipates it this time and clenches your jaw shut.

Sevika chuckles, low and dangerous. "Spit again and I’m adding it your mess." She leans in closer, her breath hot against your ear. "You want that, princess?"

Your mind races for a way out of this situation. But a traitorous part of you, doesn’t want to push her away, doesn't want to escape.

Your breath comes in short gasps beneath her as her hand falls to her side. Her piercing silver eyes seem to dare you, tempting and taunting you to try and defy her.

So, you do.

Saliva drips down her cheek and her nose flares in anger. In one swift motion, she spins you around and slams you face-first into the wall. Her body presses against your back, pinning you in place.

"Should expect nothing less from a spoiled brat." She growls in your ear, her lips brushing against your skin.