#Self Tapping Wood Screws

[clariannt]

Discover the efficiency and durability of Clariannt's self-drilling screws, designed to simplify installation and ensure secure fastening for various construction tasks. Available in multiple sizes, these high-quality self-tapping screws eliminate the need for pre-drilling, making them an ideal choice for professionals and DIY enthusiasts alike.

[zeroxxlhero]

Visceral Need • Sevika

Warnings: 18+ characters, mutual pining, flirting, cunnilingus, alcohol consumption, cigarette smoking, dom! Sevika, sub! Fem! Reader, Sevika w a big dick, creampie, doggy style, vaginal sex, blowjobs, rough sex, ass slapping, mentions of Sevika having a happy trail

Pairings: Sevika x You

Fandom: Arcane (League of Legends)

Sevika had been plotting to get to you from a distance. Watching you, waiting for you to make the first move.

The dim, smoky air of the Last Drop hums with tension, the kind you can almost feel crawling across your skin. You’re perched at the bar, fingers curled loosely around a glass of amber liquor, your sharp profile illuminated by the flickering neon signs. You know how to command a room without even trying, and Sevika is no exception to your quiet magnetism. She watches from her usual corner, where shadows bend to her will, trying not to make it obvious—though she doubts you’ve missed her lingering gaze.

It’s not the first time she’s seen you, but something about you tonight feels different. Maybe it’s the way you toss your hair over your shoulder, the faint smirk tugging at your lips when the bartender flirts just a little too boldly. Or maybe it’s how you lean back in your chair, self-assured and untouchable, like nothing and no one could ever rattle you.

Sevika’s jaw tightens as she takes another drag from her cigar, the taste bitter on her tongue. She knows how to take what she wants—except, apparently, when it comes to you. You’re too much, too radiant, too far out of reach for someone like her. But damn if that doesn’t make her want you more. She exhales slowly, watching the thin wisp of smoke curl toward the ceiling, hoping it might carry away her frustration.

When you glance her way—just a flick of your eyes, barely there—her heart jolts, a muscle-memory reflex she thought she’d buried long ago. Does she hold your gaze too long? Maybe. She’s not sure she cares, even though her pulse betrays her. She looks away after a moment, feigning disinterest, but her metal fingers drum restlessly against the table.

It’s pathetic, she thinks bitterly, this infatuation she can’t seem to shake. Sevika doesn’t pine. She’s not the kind of woman who waits in the wings, hoping for a glance or a smile. But here she is, doing exactly that, watching you from the shadows like a lovesick fool. She hates how vulnerable it makes her feel, how you’ve become a crack in the armor she’s spent years perfecting.

Her drink is almost gone, but she doesn’t order another. She’s too focused on you, on the way your laughter cuts through the dull roar of the bar like a blade. Someone’s talking to you now—some nobody who doesn’t know when to quit—and Sevika feels the sharp sting of jealousy twist in her gut. She shouldn’t care, but she does. She always does.

She wants to make a move, to cross the space between you and say something, anything, that might catch your attention. But every time she imagines it, her throat tightens, and her words die before they even form. What if she screws it up? What if you laugh her off, or worse—dismiss her entirely? She couldn’t stomach the humiliation.

Instead, she watches, silently yearning for something she’s too scared to reach for. Her metal arm creaks faintly as she flexes it, a nervous habit she’s never managed to break. She tells herself she’ll talk to you next time, but deep down, she knows it’s a lie. For now, she’ll settle for the stolen glances and fleeting moments that keep her tethered to the hope that maybe, just maybe, you’ll notice her too.

..

The sound of shuffling cards and low laughter fills the back corner of the Last Drop, where Sevika sits hunched over a rickety table, a cigarette smoldering between her lips. Her prosthetic hand clicks faintly as she taps her cards against the wood, but her eyes aren’t on the hand she’s been dealt.

They’re on you.

Across the room, you’re leaned against the bar, your smile sharp and wicked as you chat with someone Sevika’s never seen before. Some tall, well-dressed stranger with too much confidence and not nearly enough sense to keep their hands to themselves. The sight of them leaning in, their shoulder brushing yours, makes Sevika’s jaw tighten, and she nearly cracks the card in her hand.

“Yo, Sev, you good?”

The voice jolts her back to the table. One of the guys playing spades with her—an older Zaunite named Corbin—grins lazily, tipping his chin toward her. “You’ve been staring off like you’re tryin’ to set something on fire with your eyes.”

A low chuckle ripples from the others at the table. Sevika doesn’t dignify him with a response, but she shifts in her seat, flipping a card onto the table with more force than necessary.

“Focus on the game, not whatever’s got you so distracted,” Corbin teases, leaning back in his chair. “Unless, of course…” His grin widens as his gaze darts toward you. “You’re busy keeping tabs on that.”

The others at the table exchange knowing glances, and Sevika scowls, smoke curling from her lips as she glares at Corbin. “Play your damn cards.”

Corbin whistles low. “Alright, alright, my bad.” He raises his hands in mock surrender, but his grin lingers. “Didn’t know you had a thing for the untouchable type. Can’t blame you, though.”

The table erupts into muffled laughter, and Sevika’s glare sharpens. She’s tempted to throw her cigarette at Corbin’s smug face, but that’d only prove him right. Instead, she leans forward, her voice low and steady.

“Worry about your hand, not mine. Or don’t—you’ll lose either way.”

The warning in her tone silences the laughter, and Corbin holds up his hands again, this time in genuine retreat. Sevika returns her attention to the game, but only barely.

Her gaze keeps drifting back to you. The stranger says something, and you laugh, your head tilting back slightly, exposing the curve of your throat. It’s a casual gesture, unintentional, but it hits Sevika like a sucker punch. She hates the way it makes her feel—jealous, possessive, like she has any right to be upset when she hasn’t even made her move.

She tears her eyes away again, focusing on her cards with a muttered curse. The game goes on, but her plays are sloppy, her attention split. It’s obvious enough that Corbin catches on again.

“You gonna stay in this game, or you wanna go shoot your shot?” he quips, shuffling the deck for the next hand.

Sevika glares at him, but before she can retort, you turn your head—and your eyes meet hers.

Her heart stutters. It’s only for a moment, but the intensity of your gaze is enough to leave her breathless. The corners of your lips twitch, and then you’re looking away, back to the stranger at your side.

Sevika exhales slowly, feeling the weight of Corbin’s amused stare. She can’t decide what burns more—your fleeting attention or the realization that she’s not the only one vying for it.

..

The bar’s hum is low and constant, voices blending into the clinking of glasses and the distant rumble of music. Sevika moves toward the bar, her empty glass in hand, but she’s not really paying attention to the drink she’s after. She’s already noticed you again, sitting at the edge of the counter, the soft neon glow catching the curve of your jaw.

You’re impossible to ignore. It’s not just your beauty—it’s the effortless way you carry yourself, like you know the world watches and you couldn’t care less. Sevika can’t help but stare, her steps slowing as her sharp gaze drinks you in.

She catches herself before she stops completely, shaking her head slightly. Get a grip, Sev, she thinks, but her feet still carry her closer.

Just as she reaches the bar, a man slides into your space. She notices him before you do—a wiry, slick-haired guy with a crooked grin that instantly sets her teeth on edge. He leans too close, trying to catch your attention with some line she doesn’t bother straining to hear.

You barely look at him, your expression unreadable, your attention flicking away almost immediately. But he doesn’t take the hint. He leans in closer, trying again, his voice louder now, a little sharper.

Sevika’s grip tightens on her empty glass.

The man doesn’t stop, his persistence crossing into territory that makes Sevika’s blood boil. Your body language stiffens, your disinterest now blatant, but he’s either too dense or too arrogant to notice. That’s when she decides she’s had enough.

With a measured stride, she closes the distance, her broad frame casting a shadow over both of you. She stops just behind the man, her voice low and dangerous as she speaks.

“She said no.”

The man startles, spinning around to face her. His mouth opens, probably to throw some defensive line, but the moment his eyes land on Sevika, the words die in his throat. His gaze flickers to her metal arm, then to her face, and recognition washes over him.

“Oh, shit,” he mutters, holding his hands up as if to ward off a blow. “I didn’t—uh, I didn’t realize—”

“You didn’t realize she wasn’t interested?” she cuts him off, her tone calm but icy. She steps closer, looming over him, her prosthetic arm flexing just enough to make her point. “Or you didn’t realize who you were pissing off?”

The man’s face pales, and he stammers out a hasty apology, first to her, then to you. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean any trouble.”

“Then leave,” Sevika says, her voice like steel.

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He retreats quickly, his shoulders hunched, disappearing into the crowd without a backward glance.

Sevika watches him go, her jaw tight before she exhales and turns back to you. For a moment, she hesitates, unsure of how you’ll react. But then you glance at her, and your lips curve into a small, amused smile.

“Subtle,” you say, your tone light but edged with warmth.

“Wasn’t trying to be,” she replies, her voice quieter now.

Your gaze lingers on her, a spark of curiosity flickering behind your eyes. “Thanks. I could’ve handled it, but… I didn’t mind the assist.”

Sevika nods, the corners of her mouth twitching into the faintest hint of a smile. “Anytime.”

She starts to turn away, intending to head back to her usual spot, but your voice stops her.

“Leaving already? Thought you came here for a drink.”

She glances back, her brow quirking slightly. You gesture to the empty seat beside you, a playful challenge in your expression.

“Well?” you ask, leaning back against the bar. “You gonna join me, or are you just here to scare off creeps?”

For the first time all night, Sevika’s grin fully forms, small but genuine. She sets her empty glass on the counter and takes the seat next to you.

“Guess I’ve got time for one more,” she says, her voice low and steady.

It’s the beginning of something, she thinks. And for once, she’s not afraid to take the chance.

..

The smoky air of the Last Drop feels heavier tonight, buzzing with energy as Sevika sits at her usual corner table, deep into a high-stakes game of cards. The laughter and jeers from the surrounding players don’t faze her; her focus is razor-sharp, every move calculated, every tell read like a book.

You sit at her side, draped in casual elegance, your presence drawing more attention than Sevika’s winning streak. Over the past weeks, you’ve become a constant in her orbit, turning heads wherever you go together. You’ve yet to cross that line into something more, but the tension crackles like a live wire, impossible to ignore.

Sevika is used to being stared at, but with you, it’s different. You’re not just an accessory to her; you’re a distraction—the kind she can’t afford but doesn’t want to resist. Even now, with her attention locked on the game, she’s acutely aware of you beside her, your perfume, your presence, the subtle way your knee brushes against hers.

And you? You’re bored.

Sevika’s been winning all night, and while the crowd around the table watches the game with rapt attention, your interest wanes. You lean back in your chair, crossing one leg over the other, your gaze lazily sweeping the room. But then, your eyes land on Sevika, her sharp profile illuminated by the flickering light above.

A sly grin curls your lips. You know her focus is ironclad, but you can’t help yourself. You want to see if you can shake her.

Leaning in, you bring your lips close to her ear, your voice soft and teasing. “You gonna win this one too, or are you just stringing them along for the fun of it?”

Sevika’s brow furrows slightly, but she doesn’t take her eyes off her cards. “Trying to distract me?” she mutters, her tone even.

“Is it working?” you purr, letting your breath brush against her skin.

She doesn’t answer, but you catch the slight clench of her jaw, the way her fingers tighten around her cards. A thrill sparks in your chest.

You take it further, your hand drifting to rest on her thigh, your fingers light against the fabric of her pants. “You know,” you murmur, your voice low and sultry, “I was starting to think you were more interested in this game than me.”

Sevika freezes for half a second, just long enough for one of her opponents to notice.

“You good there, Sev?” the guy across from her asks, smirking.

“Fine,” she grunts, her voice rougher than usual. She glares at her cards, trying to refocus, but you don’t let up.

Your fingers trace small circles on her thigh, your touch maddeningly light. “You look tense,” you say, your tone dripping with mock innocence. “Should I stop?”

Her eyes flick to you, dark and smoldering, a warning in her gaze. “Keep it up,” she says lowly, “and I’ll make you regret it.”

Your grin widens, entirely unbothered by the threat. If anything, it eggs you on. You lean in even closer, your lips almost brushing her ear. “Big talk for someone who’s struggling to focus right now.”

That does it. Sevika slaps her cards down, the force rattling the table, and pushes her chair back slightly. The players around her start to laugh, sensing her irritation, but it’s not them she’s focused on—it’s you.

She leans toward you, her voice a low growl. “You really wanna test me?”

You tilt your head, feigning innocence, but the heat in her gaze sends a shiver down your spine. “Maybe,” you say softly, your smile teasing.

Sevika’s eyes narrow, and for a moment, it feels like the air between you is about to ignite. Then, with a sharp exhale, she stands, tossing a few bills onto the table.

“Game’s over,” she says curtly, grabbing your hand and pulling you to your feet.

“Where are we going?” you ask, laughing as she leads you away from the table.

Her grip on your hand is firm, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Somewhere I can deal with you properly.”

The spark in her eyes promises trouble, and you can’t help but follow, your heart pounding with anticipation.

..

Sevika's mouth is hot and hungry on yours, her tongue delving deep as she backs you up against the wall. The smooth plaster is cold against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat of her body pressed against you. She breaks the kiss, leaving you both panting for breath.

"God, I've wanted to do that for so long," she pants, nipping at your jaw. "Wanted to taste you. Feel you." She rolls her hips into yours, grinding her thigh between your legs. The friction is delicious, the pressure exactly what you need to chase the edge. You whimper, your head falling back against the wall as she licks a hot stripe up your neck. Your hands find her shoulders, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise.

"Fuck Sev," you groan, your hips rocking against her in desperate search of more. "Need you. Fucking need you so bad. Please."

Sevika stops you with a firm hand on your hip, her fingers digging in until you're sure you'll bruise. "Ah, ah," she tuts, shaking her head. "Not so fast, baby." She cocks her head to the side, a wicked gleam in her eye as she looks down at you.

"First, you're gonna apologize for interrupting my game." She punctuates the demand with a sharp thrust of her hips, her hard cock grinding against your aching clit. Your jaw drops, a gasp tearing from your throat at the sudden burst of pleasure. But even as your body sings, your mind reels at her words.

"What?" you sputter, your brain struggling to process the shift in power dynamics. "But Sev, I..." She silences you with a finger pressed against your lips, her eyes hard and unwavering.

Sevika chuckles, the sound low and dark and dripping with all sorts of filthy promises. "You heard me," she purrs, her hand sliding down your body to palm your breast through the thin fabric of your shirt. Your nipple pebbles beneath her touch, the rough pads of her fingers sending sparks of pleasure shooting straight to your core. You whine, arching into her hand like a cat in heat.

God, you need this.

Need her.

Your whole body is crying out for her touch. But you know she's right.

Now you owe her an apology.

That’s how you got under her skin, how you made her so crazy for you that she left a table full of high rollers to chase after you. "Fuck," you curse, dropping to your knees with a thud. The carpet abrades your skin through the thin material of your pants, but the pain is nothing compared to the pleasure you’re about to indulge in.

Sevika is one of those lucky bitches who was born with everything hanging down to her knees. But it's not just the size that sets her apart. No, the crowning glory is the curl - a delicious, meaty curve that was made to hit all the right spots like it was made for your cunt. It looks like it’s almost too big for you, having the capability of stretching you out in ways that would burn so good it was almost painful. But oh, the pain would be worth it. So worth it to feel so full, so utterly and completely stuffed full of her.

You lean forward, tracing the happy trail that starts just below her navel, the coarse hairs tickling your fingertips. The scent of her fills your nostrils, musky and dark and so distinctly her. She's an intoxicating cocktail, all brute strength and raw power and that sharp, sinful mind. You're addicted, thoroughly and completely.

Sevika's cock is too big for your hand, stretching your fingers obscenely as you wrap them around her dick. She's hot and heavy in your palm, the veins ridging her length pulsing against your skin with every beat of her heart. The sight of her, all big and hard and ready, sends a fresh gush of arousal flooding your cunt. You whimper, your hips rolling involuntarily as you stroke her from root to tip.

Your thumb catches on the weeping tip, smearing the pearly bead of pre-cum that's gathered there. You're overwhelmed, completely bowled over by her. By this. By the sheer, breathtaking perfection of her cock. A cock that's all for you.

Sevika moans, a low sound that makes your clit throb. "That's it, baby," she praises, her voice rough with desire. "Just like that." She thrusts into your hand, her hips rolling in shallow little circles that send pleasure shooting up your spine. You can’t help but moan, your eyes fluttering closed as you lose yourself in the feeling of her, hot and hard and so fucking perfect in your grip.

"God, your hand feels so good," she pants, her grip on your hair tightening until it's just shy of painful. "But I bet your mouth would feel even better." The words are a challenge, daring you to prove her right. To take her down to the base and show her just how good you are with your tongue. You open your eyes, meeting her gaze head on.

You look up at her through your lashes, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. The simple act, so quick and innocent on its own, is dripping with intent in the charged air between you. Your message is clear: you're going to devour her. Swallow her whole until she's begging for mercy. She inhales sharply, her eyes darkening with lust at the blatant promise. "Fucking hell," she breathes, the curse little more than a whisper." You're going to be the death of me, aren't you?"

You just smile, slow and filthy, before diving forward and swallowing her down. The surprise and pleasure mingling on her face at the first touch of your tongue is almost as satisfying as the taste of her, salty and bitter and so delicious.

Your mouth is hot and wet and eager around her, your tongue working feverishly to coax more of those heady drops from the tip. Sevika shudders, her grip on your hair tightening until you're sure you'll feel it for days. The sensation sends a fresh wave of arousal coursing through you, your clit pulsing with the need for attention. You whimper around her, the vibrations of the sound traveling down her length until she's keening, her hips rocking into the blessed heat of your mouth.

You let her fuck your face, taking her down to the root with every pass until your eyes are watering and you're lightheaded from lack of oxygen. The discomfort is a small price to pay for the sheer depravity of it all, for the knowledge that you're the one driving her to this, making her fall apart with just your mouth and hands. You're insatiable, gluttonous in your desire.

Sevika is lost in the bliss of your mouth, her head thrown back and her eyes screwed shut as she chases her high. She fucks your face like it's her sole purpose in life, every thrust designed to push her closer and closer to the edge. You're along for the ride, letting her use you for her own pleasure. Because fuck, it's hot. Watching her like this, all wild and undone and so beautifully debauched. The noises she makes are obscene, low and filthy grunts and groans that make your cunt clench with want.

Her words are even filthier, praise and profanity tumbling from her lips in a steady stream. "God, your mouth," she pants, her grip on your hair bordering on painful. "So fucking good. Love watching it stretched around my cock." Her thrusts speed up, growing erratic as her climax nears.

Your nose presses against the neat thatch of curls at the base of her shaft, the musky scent of her arousal flooding your nostrils. Her hands are fists in your hair, holding you in place as she grinds against your face.

Your jaw aches, your lungs burn, but you don't stop.

You can’t stop.

Not when she's so close, not when you can feel her pulsing against your tongue as she fights not to come.

The need to make her fall apart is a living thing inside you, driving you forward until she's writhing, her legs trembling with the force of her impending release. And then she's coming, your name a ragged groan on her lips as her cock jerks and twitches and spills down your throat.

The sound of your name on her lips is sweeter than any praise, more potent than any aphrodisiac.It sends a fresh gush of arousal flooding your cunt, your clit throbbing with the need for some much needed friction. You work her through her release, milking every last drop from her as you greedily swallow it down.

The saltiness coats your tongue, slides down your throat in hot spurts. And god, it's delicious. A perfect complement to the musky taste of her skin, the spicy scent of her cologne that clings to your hair and skin. You're drunk on her, high on Sevika.

In this moment, you'd do anything for her, be anything she wants you to be. Even if it means falling on your knees like some cheap whore and choking on her cock like your life depends on it. Which, right now, it feels like it does.

Sevika tugs you to your feet, your legs shaky and unsteady as she pulls you into her arms. She doesn't give you a chance to catch your breath before she's kissing you, her tongue delving deep to taste herself on your lips. You open for her, letting her invade your mouth just like she's going to invade your body. Her hands are everywhere, roaming over your curves like a woman starved.

She squeezes and kneads and leaves bruises in her wake. Marking you, claiming you for her own. And fuck, if it doesn't turn you on. You've never been so aroused in your life. Your pussy is dripping, your panties soaked through with the evidence of your desire. She breaks the kiss, only to trail her lips down your neck, sharp teeth nipping at your pulse point. You moan, your head falling back to grant her better access.

Your head hits the pillow a split second before Sevika is on you, her body a warm, solid weight pressing you into the mattress. She kisses you again, her mouth slanting over yours in a filthy embrace that steals the air from your lungs and the sense from your head. The scent of her is dizzying, the taste of her a heady ambrosia on your tongue. You're drowning in her, lost in the drugging pull of her lips and the hot slide of her skin against yours. Your hands roam, mapping the dips and curves of her body like you're trying to commit them to memory.

You'd happily spend the rest of your life exploring every inch of her, tracing each freckle, licking each scar. But right now, there's only one thing on your mind. One thing your body is screaming for with every frantic beat of your heart and every ragged breath in your lungs. You need her.

Sevika is a woman of contrasts, every inch of her hard planes and sharp edges. The smoothness of her skin is a shock against the roughness of her hands, the gentleness of her touch at odds with the desperate need in her eyes. She worships your body like it's a religious experience, trailing open-mouthed kisses down your sternum until she reaches the valley of your breasts. There, she pauses, her hot breath ghosting over the peaked nipples. Your back arches, seeking friction, but she just chuckles, the sound rumbling through you like a shockwave.

"So pretty," she murmurs, her fingers ghosting over the straining peaks. The skimmed touch is torture, leaving you aching and wanting and ready to beg for more. But then she's taking you in her mouth, sucking you deep like she's trying to pull your soul straight from your body.

Sevika sucks harder, her teeth grazing the sensitive nubs and sending sparks of pleasure-pain zinging straight to your clit. You're keening, your hands fisting in the sheets as she works you over with lips and tongue and teeth. She's relentless, determined to push you to the brink until you're a mewling, writhing mess beneath her. And fuck, if it doesn't work. Your cunt is clenching, juices trickling down your thighs as she drives you insane.

Just when you think you can't take anymore, she's pulling away, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your stomach as she makes her way down your body. Her tongue dips into your navel, teasing the hollow there before she's moving on, nipping at the jut of your hipbone. You gasp, your fingers tangling in her hair as she settles between your thighs.

She inhales deeply, her nose brushing against your clothed mound. The scent of your arousal fills her nostrils, and it’s so fucking perfect. She can't wait any longer.

Can't deny herself the taste of you.

Then she’s tearing at your panties, her fingers ripping the delicate fabric like it's tissue paper. The cool air hits your overheated flesh, making you shiver, making your cunt clench with want. But it's nothing compared to the heat of her breath, the first lap of her tongue against your dripping slit.

You moan out, your hips bucking up to meet her, to grind your cunt against her greedy mouth. She moans, the sound vibrating through you, making your toes curl and your eyes roll back in your head. She's everywhere, her tongue delving deep, her nose grinding against your clit as she eats you out.

Sevika throws a thigh over her shoulder, opening you up to her in ways that are almost obscene. And then she's diving in, her tongue delving deep to taste you as her lips and chin get slick with your juices. You're incoherent, babbling a stream of curses and praises as she works you over like a woman possessed. She doesn't let up, fucking you with her tongue like she's trying to lick you inside out.

Your clit is throbbing, aching for attention, and she gives it to you without hesitation. Then she’s there, laving the sensitive bundle of nerves with long, slow strokes that make your vision white out. You're so close, teetering on the knife's edge of release, your cunt clenching around nothing. But you need something more, need to be filled up, stretched out until you're a quivering mess.

“Feel good, baby?”

You say yes, a wordless cry that's swallowed up by a moan as she doubles her efforts. Her tongue is everywhere, in your cunt, on your clit, over every inch of skin she can reach.

And she reaches a lot, her long arms spanning your body as she holds you open for her assault. You're lost in it, drowning in the pleasure, in the knowledge that she's the one giving it to you, driving you wild with nothing but her mouth.

Then need for more is a living thing inside you, a clawing desperation to be filled up in a way only she can provide. But she's too good at this, too skilled at drawing out your pleasure. Each touch of her tongue brings you closer to the edge, closer to that blissful precipice where you'll shatter into a million pieces. And you want it. Want to come on her face until you're shaking and boneless and spent.

She doesn't let up, fucking you with her tongue as she's trying to taste your very soul. Your cries are getting louder, higher in pitch, until you're sobbing out your pleasure, your voice breaking on each desperate moan. She's relentless, her lips and tongue working in tandem to push you over the edge.

And then, finally, she's hitting that spot deep inside, the one that makes stars explode behind your eyelids. You come with a shout, your cunt clamping down around her tongue like a vice as your orgasm crashes over you in waves of searing bliss.

You're thrashing, your legs shaking and your nails scoring the sheets as she wrings every last drop of pleasure from your body. It's too much and not enough, the sensation bordering on pain as it pushes you past the point of ecstasy and into something else entirely. Something primal and raw and so deeply, soul-shakingly intense.

Sevika comes up your body, her kisses reverent against your sweat-damp skin. The slow press of her lips to your thighs, your hips, your stomach, is a soothing balm against the aftershocks still coursing through you. She takes her time, mapping your body like she's trying to memorize every inch. Your fingertips tangle in her hair, keeping her close as you bask in the warm glow of your release.

"God, you're gorgeous when you come,"she murmurs against your skin, her words sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. She nuzzles into your neck, her breath hot against your ear. "Love watching you fall apart. Love knowing I'm the one who made you do it." Her cock is hard and hot against your thigh, a silent demand for its own release. But she doesn't rush her, doesn't try to mount you and fuck you into oblivion.

She rolls you onto your stomach, her hands skimming over the planes of your back, the dip of your waist. She takes a moment to admire the view, the curve of your ass, the long line of your legs. You're exquisite, all soft angles and warm, supple skin. And she can't wait to sink into you, to bury herself balls deep in your perfect cunt. But first, she's going to taste you again.

Her tongue traces the swell of your ass, dipping into the cleft between. She takes her time, kissing and nipping and laving at your flesh until you're squirming beneath her, desperate for more. Your legs fall open, a silent invitation that she's all too happy to accept.

Sevika dips her head, her tongue dragging over your dripping slit from clit to hole. Your taste explodes on her tongue, musky and sweet and so fucking perfect. She moans, the sound vibrating through you as she devours you like a woman starved.

Her hands grip your hips, keeping you in place as she feasts on your cunt. She eats you like she's trying to crawl inside you, like she wants to taste every inch of your body. And fuck, if it doesn't turn you on. The need to be filled by her, to have her stretch you wide and take you hard, is a clawing desperation inside you. You're panting, your fingers scrabbling at the sheets as you push back against her mouth. Your clit is throbbing, aching for attention, and she gives it to you in spades.

She spreads you open with her fingers, her tongue delving deep to lap at your dripping walls. You're keening now, begging her for more, for something, anything to fill the aching void inside you. "Please," you whimper, your voice hoarse and broken. "Please, Sev. I need you. Need your cock." She pulls back, her lips shiny with your juices as she looks up at you through lidded eyes.

"Need this, baby?" she purrs, fisting her dick and giving it a languid stroke. You can't tear your gaze away from the sight, mesmerized by the thick, veiny length, the bulbous head already weeping with precome.

You nod, too far gone to form the words.

But she knows.

Reads it in the desperation in your eyes, in the way your body arches up into her.

You nod, unable to form the words to beg. But it doesn't matter. Sevika reads it in the desperation in your eyes, in the way your body arches up into her. With a low, feral sound, she's on you, settling between your spread thighs. The head of her cock nudges against your pussy, smearing precome over your slick lips. You moan, your hips lifting to meet her, to urge her deeper.

She thrusts in slowly, torturously so, her thick length splitting you open inch by inch. The stretch is delicious, the bite of pain giving way to pleasure so intense it borders on overwhelming. You clench around her, your inner walls fluttering as they try to adjust to her size. But she’s too big, too thick. Even as your body yields to her, you know it will never be enough.

Now she’s in balls-deep, her thick cock stretching you in ways you never thought possible. You shudder, your body convulsing around the sudden intrusion as you struggle to adjust. It's too much, too full, too fucking perfect. You can feel her in your throat, her cock nudging against your cervix like it's trying to burrow into your womb. Your clit throbs, pulsing in time with the frantic beat of your heart as your cunt clenches desperately around the thick length. The need to move, to fuck herself on Sevika in a desperate, mindless frenzy, is a living thing inside you.

But she doesn't let you. Her hands grip your hips, stilling you even as she pulls out until just the tip remains before slamming back in with a force that steals the air from your lungs.

You sob at the drag of her thick cock against your sensitive walls, your voice breaking on a guttural moan. "F-fuck," you stutter, your nails scrabbling for purchase in the sheets. "D-daddy, it's too big. S'stretching me out. Gonna break me."

Your voice is high, thin and reedy, like it doesn't belong to you. But the words do. Those filthy, desperate pleas for her to ruin you, to fuck you until you can't remember your own name. Then she’s only too happy to oblige. She sets a brutal pace, her hips slamming against yours with every thrust. The headboard slaps against the wall, the obscene rhythm mixing with your cries and begging until it's a carnal symphony. She fucks you like she wants to split you open, like she wants to crawl inside you and never leave.

You can't catch your breath, can't do anything but take it as she fucks into you. Your legs come up to wrap around her waist, ankles locking at the small of her back as she pounds you into the mattress. The new angle lets her go even deeper, the head of her cock battering against your cervix with every thrust. The need for more is a living thing inside you, a clawing desperation that drives you to meet her, to push back against the relentless thrust of her hips. But she's too strong, too overwhelming.

She just holds you down, pins you in place with her weight as she takes what she wants. What you're begging her for with every wild thrash of your body. You're a moaning, writhing mess beneath her, lost in the pleasure and the pain until there's no distinction between the two. It's all Sevika, all this hot, hard, perfect cock splitting you open.

"Did you want this, baby?" Sevika grunts, punctuating the question with a sharp smack to your ass. You yelp, the pain mixing deliciously with the pleasure radiating from your core. The smack makes you clench, your cunt gripping her cock like a vise.

"You wanted this, yeah? Wanted me to fucking wreck this good pussy?" She yanks on your hair, forcing your head back to expose the slender column of your throat. She latches on, biting and sucking, intent on marking you as hers for all the world to see. Your hand flies to your mouth, your fingers plunging between your lips to muffle the scream tearing from your lungs. Your hips buck, trying to meet her, to take her deeper, but she just pulls harder, holding you in place.

Sevika’s slaps your ass again, the sharp sting sending a jolt of pleasure racing through your veins.She doesn't let up, her hand coming down again and again until your skin is hot and aching. The need to beg for more, to plead with her to hurt you, is overwhelming. But she's already giving you what you need, what you crave. Her filthy words wash over you, praising your tight cunt, telling you how good you feel wrapped around her cock. You're sobbing, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as she pushes you higher, fucks you harder, takes you deeper. The need to cum is a physical ache, a desperate clawing at your insides.

But you can’t.

Not yet.

Not until she says so.

You cry out, your voice cracking on a sob as she sets a brutal pace. She fucks you like she's trying to imprint herself on your very soul, her cock driving into you with a ferocity that borders on violent. Your body is a puppet on her strings, jerking and twitching with every thrust. You're incoherent, babbling pleas and praises as she wrecks you. Your cunt is like a vice around her, fluttering and clutching like it's trying to keep her inside.

"That's it, baby," she pants, her grip on your hips tightening until you're sure you'll have bruises. "Take it. Take my big fucking cock." She's so deep, so fucking huge. You can feel her in your stomach, in your throat. It's overwhelming, more than you ever thought you could handle. And yet, you want more.

"Cum," Sevika demands, her voice rough with need. That single word is all it takes. You shatter, your release crashing over you in waves of blinding ecstasy. Your cunt clenches, spasming almost violently around her cock as you gush, squirting your release all over her thick dick. It's filthy, obscene, the evidence of your pleasure dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets below. But Sevika doesn't care. She spurs her hips, fucks you through your climax until you're shaking, boneless, spent.

Your lips move in a wordless litany, begging her to stop, to ease up, to give you a moment to breathe. But she doesn't. If anything, she fucks you harder, her thrusts growing erratic as she chases her own release.

You're whimpering, keening cries that barely qualify as words. The sounds are lost in the harsh slap of flesh on flesh, in the creaking of the bed frame as it strains against Sev’s brutal pace. She's relentless, pistoning into you with a single-minded ferocity that steals the air from your lungs. The sweat drips down her brow, her muscles standing out in sharp relief as she holds herself up on shaking arms.

She's fucking you now, not into the bed, but into the fucking room itself. Her hips snap forward, the drag of her cock against your sensitive walls sending sparks of pleasure racing through your veins. You're whited out, lost in the sensation, the sheer overwhelming bliss of being fucked into oblivion by your own personal god.

"Fucking hell," Sevika breathes, her voice ragged with effort. Her hips are moving now, the pace growing erratic, stuttering as she nears her peak. Thenneed to feel her come is a desperation, a clawing hunger that makes your teeth ache. The need to be filled with her, marked by her, owned by her.

"I'm gonna cum," she warns, her fingers digging into the flesh of your hips hard enough to bruise. "I'm gonna fucking cum in this pussy and make you take it all. Gonna fucking fill you up until you're dripping with it. Until everyone knows who you belong to." Her words are punctuated by a final, brutal thrust, her cock spearing you deep as she erupts. Her cum floods your channel, hot and thick and endless.

You shudder, your cunt clenching and fluttering around her pulsing cock as your own release crashes over you. The need to be closer, to feel her all around you, is a visceral thing. You turn your head, your mouth seeking hers in a desperate, sloppy kiss. She meets you halfway, her lips crashing into yours like she can't get enough.

Can't taste you deep enough to satisfy.

Your moans are muffled, swallowed up by the kiss as you grind against her, fucking yourself on her softening length. She tastes of dark promise and forbidden pleasure, and you can't get enough. She kisses you through your orgasm, her words tumbling into your mouth in a filthy litany. Telling you how good you are, how perfect you are. You seek and find her praise, the need to hear it drowning out everything else.

Sevika pulls out with a wet sound, her softening cock slipping from your well-used cunt. Instantly, you feel empty, bereft. But it's only for a moment. Then the first gush of her cum dribbles from your hole, sliding down your inner thigh. A second later, her mouth is there, her tongue lapping at the pearly trail like you're her favorite treat. She cleans you thoroughly, her lips and tongue mapping every inch of your swollen flesh.

She doesn’t stop until you're spotless, until not a single drop of her release remains on your skin. Satisfied, she comes up to curl around your sweaty body, her arms wrapping you in a secure embrace. Then she calms you down, pressing soft kisses to your temple as she murmurs soothing nonsense. The need to be close, to be touched and held and cherished, is a visceral need.

Sevika gives you a chance to breathe, letting you bask in the afterglow for a second. Then she’s flipping you over, manhandling you onto your stomach like you weigh nothing at all. The sheets are cool against your heated skin as she settles over you, the hard planes of her chest a delicious contrast to the soft material.

She kisses your body, her lips trailing over each bump and hollow like you’re the most fascinating thing she's ever seen. "You did so good, baby," she murmurs, her voice low and rough and filled with a dark satisfaction. Then she's praising you like you're the finest prize, like conquering your body has been the ultimate accomplishment. And maybe it has. Because in this moment, with your legs spread and your cunt throbbing from her possession, you feel owned.

Consumed.

And utterly fucked out.

[steviebunny]

2. Glorified Cult Leader

Dubai

"So Daniel, do you have any questions?"

The reporter stares at Louis in near astonishment, removing his glasses to rub his aching head.

"About the woman with the face full of teeth? Yes, I have fucking questions! You had that one in disguise this whole time" Daniel motions to Armand with his glasses "Should I assume there's a demon lady pretending to dust shelves in a sexy maid uniform somewhere around here?"

Louis crosses an ankle over his knee with a slight laugh, Armand's arm loops over the back of the back of the sofa and rubs his hand. "No. Nothing like that. Patience Daniel and good things will come, let the story take you where it needs you to be."

___

Paris

The Rusalka moves gracefully through the vast library shelves, fingers gently grazing cover after cover. Heeled shoes moving after the other creating an echo off the marble floors. Her head raises, no longer lost in thought- she sniffs the air.

"You can come out, you're not nearly as sneaky as you seem to think you are."

A tapping of leather soles against the floor much like her own sounds from behind her.

The well-dressed leader she met the other evening walks out from behind a shelf, he leans against the wood shifting his weight onto one hip, placing his hand in his coat pocket with well-rehearsed grace. 

Her eyes trace over him and then roll “If you’re trying to kill me I wish you luck, it’s not easy.”

“Who says I wish to end your life?” 

“Your kind is territorial, I haven’t had the best experiences in the past, can you blame me for running? Not to mention your man chased me, not a very good first impression.” 

“Santiago is not my man.” His stoicism falls face curling in disgust at the accusation. 

“Right, you’re paired with the bookworm.” Her eyes shine and something swipes sideways, blinking slowly like an alligator. 

“You’re no longer deemed a threat. Siren. But you’re perspective, we could have a place for one of your kind in the coven. So long as you behave of course.”

“Wrong.” 

“Hmm?” His eyebrows perk up and his head tilts. 

“Not a siren. Similar, but I don’t sing. And I don’t lure unfaithful men to the depths. I just eat the evil ones, it’s a lot less dramatic that way.”

“You get to define what evil is?”

“Yes. You, vampires, are so strange…you love each other so purely, even when you hate. It’s so obvious, but you keep screwing each other over? I can’t tell if it’s a self-preservation instinct or not. I think you’d be a lot happier if your covens were big love fests instead of the whole master-servant dynamic.”

Armand scowls, fangs dipping slightly with a cat-like hiss. “You think yourself omniscient? We need structure, solitary vampires either wither by their lonesome until they meet the flame or sow chaos in their wake. Humans always search for more, money, power, love, knowledge, more. Why hold on to this part of your humanity when you can live content? A part of something better, the coven offers such.”

The rusalka laughs and her melodious voice has a sharp screech-like tinge to it- “Content! Oh, so great coven leader!” She cries clasping her hands together, pressing them against her face. “Who surrounds himself with sycophants, Truly the best representation of a content being, yeah? You vampires want just as much as I do. You’re not built to be lonely, companionship is in your blood. So don’t preach to me about contentment you glorified cult leader.”

Armand steps closer, face inches from the rusalka towering over her, he removes his sunglasses- tucking them into his chest pocket he looks deep into her eyes and calmly with a sneer says “You’re vulnerable. It makes you weak. We are not the only coven in France and you will not be able to run forever. Unless of course, you aim to end your studies so quickly after arriving.”

“How’d you…?”

“I may not be able to read your mind but this place is flooding with your peers. It’s quite the story you’ve concocted for yourself, the best lies are rooted in some truth are the not?” 

“My vulnerability is my power, just as yours could be. Screw your rules and your laws, going behind each others backs to make things end up your way. Just to end in failure. May it be a century or a millennia from now, but still failure.”

“Then let me offer you this. Join the coven. Prove to them why the laws should change.”

—

Dubai

“Is this my cue?” Daniel had been imagining this voice since it was first described to him but the reality was something else altogether. “Sorry, I didn’t have time to pick up a maid’s uniform. I know how much you like the Univision style.” The woman rounds the furniture flashing a smile at the two vampires and perching herself on the arm of the journalist's seat.

“You still smell of him.” Armand’s lip curls and Louis looks to the tempered windows for a distraction.

“I didn’t have time to swim yet either. You’re the two avoiding him. I made no such promise, I’m not involved.”

“Wait! Please tell me she isn’t taking about-”

“Lestat.” Louis interrupts as Daniel looks to the Rusalka with a look that borders on horror. “There’s an agreement in place. When she’s here she doesn’t discuss him, when she’s there she won’t discuss us.”

“It's a horrendous deal, really.”

“HOW DOES SHE EVEN KNOW LESTAT?!”

Louis stands and stretches his arms to his companions, each of them placing a hand in one of his. “This seems like a natural breaking point, you should rest Daniel. We’ll continue tomorrow.” Louis immediately begins to escort his partners out of the room leaving the reporter in shock.

“WHAT KIND OF HORSE-SHIT DO YOU MEAN BY NATURAL BREAKING POINT?!”

---

Thank you for reading. Sorry this isn't very long :(

[shini--chan]

So I be seen you hint at Japan's rage, and I'm so curious, as I am similar when it comes to my anger. Would it be possible to have a piece of what it looks like?

Hope this will satisfy your curiosity. This turned out longer than expected

Trigger warnings: violence

Yandere Japan - The Dying of the Light

It was late when Kiku finally unlocked the door to your shared apartment and entered. It was dark, which was surprising to him, but he quickly consoled himself with the notion that you were asleep. It wouldn't be surprising - you were going through a difficult phase and thus had very irregular sleeping patterns.

The shoes came off quickly and were set on the lower area of the gekan, and the coat was hung up. He tiptoed across the living room to your shared bedroom with the intention of checking on you. While the toes of you weren't as affectionate as usual couples, excluding some flights of fancy on his behalf, he was still very attached to you. Even just seeing you was soothing to him.

However, there was nothing soothing about looking in the bedroom this time.

The tatami mats were bare, the futons rolled up in the closet and everything else carefully tucked away in the closets. Kiku hadn't seen you on the coach when he had passed through the living room. It was disquieting, and the anxiety made his fingers prickle.

Heart palpitating and with his breathing quickened, he had his way over to the bathroom on the off chance that you had fallen asleep in the tub. He ripped the door open, only to be greeted by a dark and dry room. Feeling the reality of the situation sink in, he leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms over his chest. You had left him.

His intuition told him there was no use looking for you further in the apartment, and his best option was tracing a route you could have taken. Now that he considered what you had down, he felt the edges of anger creeping up on him. Just when matters had started looking up, when you no longer shied away from him, when you started to accept and comprehend his suggestions - you ruined everything.

Passing through the rooms did nothing to decrease his budding ire. He switched on all the lights on the way to his office; an off-kilter coping mechanism in his case, a tick he couldn't get rid of. Switching on his computer, and sitting down in front of it, he tapped his fingers against the wood impatiently. Here time was essential - you had a head start and he was determined to close the gap.

The inside of the airport was far too cool and far too busy for your tastes. Though, that could just be an effect of having been subject to his whims for so long. A full body shudder rocked through you and you screwed your eyes close as his image popped up in your mind. Having had to play the doting lover for so long to a man like him filled you with self-disgust and even now you could still feel the phantom press of his hands against your hips, against your waist and your neck.

Absent-mindedly, you scratched your arms and pressed yourself against the thin cushioning of the seat. It helped ground you in the here and now. The stereotypical discomfort of airports was proving to be useful in these circumstances. Aside from that, in less than a day, you would be far, far away from Kiku - that fact helped to soothe your nerves a bit.

Yes, in less than a day you would be in London and you'd finally be able to wash yourself from him. You planned to check yourself in a hotel as soon as you landed, and scrub yourself raw during an hour long bath. Every skin cell that had come into contact with him would be washed away. The other places of your body he had come into contact with wouldn't be so quickly cleansened of him, much to your chargin.

Your thoughts were interrupted by an announcement - the gate was opening. With soaring thoughts and light feet, you joined the line, and with how joyous you were, time seemed to pass much faster. It was wonderful how little time it took for you to get through the final stages of bureaucracy and settle down on your seat in the plane. From the moment you made yourself comfortable, you took to staring out the window, and observing the going-ons on the asphalt below.

Meanwhile, you considered what you were going to do once you were in England. Buying new clothes and getting a decent place to stay was on the top of your priority list. Due to the circumstances, you had had no option but to travel light and thus only had clothes for a few days with you. Getting a job wouldn't hurt either - while had money on you and the jewellery you took along for the ride would keep you afloat for a while, it wouldn't last forever.

What you needed was a job that was out of the way. Public positions were too visible, with a high likelihood of him or one of his agents happening upon you. Working for a large company was equally ill advised for similar reasons. It had to be something low profile and out of the way.

You were so engrossed in your musings and observations, that you only registered the person when they tapped your shoulder the second time. Your heart jumped as you whipped around. It was just a stewardess. Red painted lips pulled to a smile that didn't reach her eyes. Uneasiness coiled in your stomach and made breathing harder.

"I'm sorry to disturb you but I must ask you to come with me. There seems to be a mix-up with your booking. We are terribly sorry for the inconvenience", she told you. Plastic smile and hollow words - it made the hair on your neck stand on end.

Still, you got up after a short word of affirmation and collected your hand luggage. Her statement had been specific enough to not require answers or prompting, but too vague to not make you worry. As it was, you couldn't resist without seeming unreasonable or make a scene without getting thrown out. You really needed this flight, so all you could do was follow her and hope for the best.

The bridge and the adjacent hallways seemed all the more sterile now that there weren't bustling with people. The carpeted floor only muffled sounds so much and the distant din of activity was like a tinnitus. Eventually, she opened a door in the wall, one that you had overlooked when you had passed it before. Could you be blamed when a large fresco was directly next to it, and naturally diverted and concentrated attention?

She bade you inside and then left you alone in the spartan room. Shakily, you set your bag down next to the table and made yourself as comfortable as you could on the black plastic chair.

The request of the flight attendant still seemed plausible, given that this was a makeshift office. Not one used all too frequently, judging by the thin layer of dust on the computer set up, and the lack of personal touch to the space. There was even a fingerprint scanning device, so it wasn't like it was an old, forgotten office.

In your nervousness, you wrung your hands and got up from your chair. As you paced back and forth, thoughts and scenarios raced through your head.

What exactly had gone wrong? Would you still make it in time for the flight? If not, would they at least be decent enough to offer an alternative? One that would bring out of here as fast as possible? You needed to leave Japan, and staying a minute longer than was possible meant endangering yourself.

Questions upon questions upon questions, and the lack of meaningful activity was doing nothing to quiet them. Nervousness only made them all the louder, so loud that you couldn’t hear your race heart anymore.

What you did hear, however, was the door opening once again. And in entered the last person you wanted to see now. Kiku regarded you with a passive expression, as if this was just a normal encounter, and he hadn’t caught you running away red-handed. A scream lodged itself in your throat and your hands started to tremble and sweat profusely.

“My darling, you look so out of sorts. So lost without me”, he mused. While the words that were spoken were soft on their own, his tone was cold. It made your heart plunge. He took a step forwards, you took a step backwards. The edge of the table dug into the small of your back, grounding you and showing you that all this was painfully real.

Thin lips tugged upwards in a mockery of a smile - it was more a sneer than anything else - and your alleged lover grasped your chin. He was being rougher than usual, and your skin and muscles were compressed to your jawbone. In an attempt to mitigate the pain, you raised your hands to claw his fingers away.

Before you could do that however, he caught your hands with his free one and pushed them away. The grip on your face loosened, and he shushed you. Fingers brushed your hair back and cupped your face and he whispered in a low voice:

“Why are you so scared and afraid? I’m here, I’ll always be here and I’ll never let you go.”

From somebody else, such gestures would have been romantic and soothing. From him, it was just condescending and made your skin crawl. Tears welled up in your eyes and your nose burned. You forced each breath in and out in an effort not to start sobbing in front of him - he would just relish in that, and it would wound your pride.

He released you and took a step back, eyes trailing up and down your body, eyed your bag. The muscles in his jaw twitched and he stared at you coldly.

In a spur of the moment choice, you threw yourself to the side and rounded him, checking him in the shoulder while you did so. You even managed to get past him. Adrenaline made your perception of time slow down as you reached for the door handle. Which was why it was also so disorientating when the situation abruptly changed.

Just as your fingers brushed over the cool aluminium, you were yanked back. Your tormentor stemmed you up and used the resulting momentum to throw you over his hip. Your breath was knocked out of your lungs when you were slammed down on the cold concrete, and sharp pain shot up and down your spin.

For a few moments you could just lie there, winded and in anguish. Spots swam in your vision and you were in too much discomfort to even attempt to get up. When Kiku spoke, it sounded like you were underwater:

“Did you really think that you would get far like that? It was the airport staff that pulled you from that plane on my order. So who would have helped you? The people that would have counted would have returned you to me, and those that don’t would have just looked away.”

Hands dug into the front of your jacket and yanked you into a sitting position. You groaned as fingers dug in your hair and forced you to look at him. By now, you were beginning to feel nauseous from the pain and the manhandling.

"You lied to me. You played me for a fool and betrayed me. Aren't you ashamed of yourself?"

At that, you giggled; you just couldn't help yourself. Time and time again you had imagined yourself confronting him, of highlighting his misdemeanours and evoking either guilt or rage in him. Generally, he was difficult to irritate, forget about anger, so seeing him wrathful was a surreal experience.

"No", you stated simply. After all, you had done nothing wrong. "I only regret not leaving sooner."

It was the wrong thing to say, but you were tired of constantly having to say the right thing. Balancing on the tightrope on a daily basis. Though judging from Kiku's expression, he was gaining an appetite for punishing you.

[moonybelgug]

ᘏ ⑅ ᘏ   ഒ    zᶻ

꒰˶  - ˕ -꒱ ⌒)ᦱ

warnings: !MDNI! afab!reader, strong reader (we can lift kaveh :P), kaveh neglecting sleep, light cursing (he says damn once), no sex but still mdni, they get naked, highkey self insert!reader but all my fics are written as that sooooo… i tried to keep the reader ambiguous but kavehs my pookie and my fav to write for ^^

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

Sun pours through open windows, a soft breeze in the air rustles the papers on the desk, but does not move them. Despite the fresh air and lively sounds from the city outside, Kaveh can’t seem to keep his eyes open. His cheek rests in his palm, his body slumped against the desk that he's been working at for who knows how long. That's how you find him, with drool pooling onto his paper and his eyes screwed shut as though he had fallen while fighting, his face still holding that defiant look.

"Kaveh," you hum softly, brushing golden locks that turn darker toward the root from his face. "I'm home, now. Wake up." His eyes flutter but you speak too softly for him to stir. So you hold his head as you rest it gently against the wood of the desk and you pick him up, hoisting his lithe body into your arms to take him to your shared bedroom. He mumbles something that could have been a curse and you feel his hands grab at your shirt.

His eyes start to open and you smile at him when he lifts his head, sitting on the bed and letting him perch on your lap, (your favorite place to have him sit.) Kaveh wipes the spit from his mouth and his eyes blink slowly as he reintroduces himself with your visage.

"When did you get home?" He mumbles, looking out the window to get a read on the time. Sunset. His face pales and he slaps his palm to his forehead. "Damn it! Not again.." he groans. "I need to finish-" as he begins to get up, you grab his waist and pull him back, turning him and pushing him into the bed. Kaveh makes no move to stop you, too heavy and slow from drowsiness to bother.

"What, so you can fall asleep at your desk and hurt your neck again? Hmm?" You teas and he clicks his tongue at you. Kaveh knows you're right, but the kisses that cascade down his neck and pool around his shoulders are so soothing and so needed that he relaxes into the bed without a fight. Quite uncharacteristic, which tells you that he really is tired. You let him pull you in for a long, sweet kiss on spit slicked lips. His face is rosy from where his palm had pressed into his cheek and he’s warm from sleep. You nose your face into his warm, soft neck and you can hear him practically purring against your ear.

“How was your day?” He murmurs against your lips when you return for another kiss as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

“Same as always. Work, thought of you, lunch, thought of you, work again, thought of-“

“I get it,” he interrupts with a laugh, kissing your neck as he works at the buttons on your shirt. You sat on your knees between his legs as he worked you down to bare essentials before pouncing on him again, attacking his cheeks and nose with kisses that had built up over the lost time due to your work-related absence.

“So, how was your day?” You ask him as you kiss his throat, smiling at the vibrations of his voice as they’re sent through your lips.

“I finished one project only to get stuck on another..” his fingers twist in your hair, tugging you back to his lips. The two of you kiss for a while before breaking apart for air. “And then I fell asleep,” he says begrudgingly, casting a glare at the setting sun. You turn his chin back to yourself and kiss his lips again as you begin to peel off his outer layers so that he may match you, and hoping that maybe he’ll become more comfortable.. more susceptible to slipping into a dream.

“How long have you put off sleep?” You ask as you lift his legs to slide away his pants. He avoids your eyes guiltily. Kaveh had promised not to over work himself while you were gone for the week. You tap his cheek with your finger. “Never mind. I’m here now and you can’t run from rest now.”

With that, you wrap your arms around his neck and lay at his side, anchoring him to you and the bed. His red eyes gaze at you softly and he sighs in defeat. Now that he’s relaxed you can see the lines of his face. The bags, the smile lines of his cheeks, the dimple on his forehead from frequent frustration. You trace your fingertip around these lines and watch as he descends into sleep, hoping he’ll stay that way for a while.

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

[shesinshambles]

Ghost BC Whump Month: Chronic

For @cirrus-ghoulette's Whump Month!

Super late, but I wrote a really self-indulgent fic for this one while I've been dealing with a flare-up.

You had no idea how many hours had passed since you’d crawled into bed, the deep ache in your back and hips becoming too unbearable to walk, every part of your skin felt like a live wire of searing pain. And you’d lay in bed, staring at the ceiling as the sun inched closer and closer to the horizon, casting obscure shadows on the walls of your dorm. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you tried to ignore the screaming throb and strange pressure in your spine and get at least a couple hours of sleep. But nothing was working. Not that the ibuprofen ever did anything anyway, but you had hoped it would at least take the edge off just a bit. To make matters worse you couldn’t even lie in your comfy position in bed, and that’s really when everything fell apart. So, you found yourself studying the cracks in the ceiling, sobbing, trying to calm yourself; too sore to sleep, too fed up and angry to find a simple distraction.

A loud thump on your door breaks you out of your haze and suddenly you’re aware of the tightness around your swollen eyes, the salt crusted at your inner corners. Your head is pounding and your throat is raw and scratchy.

“You in there, doll?” Dewdrop calls from the other side of the door. For a minute, you think of saying nothing and just waiting it out. You hear his sharp claws tapping on the wood and you groan. Knowing him, he wouldn’t leave; you not answering would just give him all the more reason to barge right in for whatever mischief he had planned.

“What is it?” You croak. You try to mask your pitiful state, but your voice is thick and garbled from pain and tears, and the tapping ceases.

“Hey, you good?” You squeeze your eyes shut against the sting of fresh tears, holding your tongue. The floorboards creak as Dew shifts, hesitating at the door.

“Yeah,” you warble, sniffling. Dew tests the doorknob, clicking, but not opening.

“I’m comin’ in, okay?”

“Okay,” you whimper softly. The door creaks open slowly, just enough for the fire ghoul to slip in, shutting it as he steps into your dorm with a heavy sigh.

“You been in here all day?” He asks softly, walking over to you and gingerly sitting down on the side of the bed, careful not to disturb you too much. You nod, face screwed up from the pain and all the anger bubbling up inside you. It’s all too much right now, and you don’t even want to look at the ghoul. A large hand caresses your hair, brushing loose strands off your forehead and your breath hitches.

“I’m so tired,” you choke out, your frame shaking as you try to hold in the sobs, but when Dew slides down next to you and hesitantly takes your hand in his, squeezing gently, the dam completely breaks. Dew doesn’t say anything, just holds your hand, rolling onto his side so you can feel him there, his warmth, amber and toasted marshmallow.

“Fuck, doll. M’sorry,” he mumbles under his breath, raking a hand through his hair.

The ghouls all knew about it. It hadn’t been easy touring with the pain, you needed plenty of rest days and you can never tell when a flare up might just spring on you. They all got suspicious when you’d disappear into your bunk or hotel room for hours on end when you all had free days, when you started passing on outings and dinners.

Mountain had noticed first actually, catching you here and there trying to stretch out the stiffness. He’d offered to show you some stretches he used for his own back after that, and you could always count him to pull on your legs when you needed it.

They were all helpful like that once you’d let them know about your chronic pain. Swiss would hook you up with some of his stash to help you sleep, and the fuzziness that came with it was pretty relaxing. Aether would pull what he could from the void to soothe you. Rain brought you food and made tea. He’d also freeze your ice packs faster for you. The ghoulettes always provided you with a shoulder to cry on and more times than you ever thought you would, you found yourself venting to Cumulus sitting (or lying) in her bed while she just listened. No solutions, no suggestions. Just validation. And Dew; well, Dew would keep to himself, or just be near you, but a comfortable distance. He wasn’t so hands on, like he wanted to stay out of your hair and not pester you with his shenanigans. It was infinitely quieter on the bus when he knew you had a flare up. And your blankets were always extra toasty.

The fact that he had come to seek you out spoke volumes. He was worried. You sniffle wetly, wiping your nose on the back of your hand. And his carefulness does not go unnoticed. Even now, he’s stiff in the bed, keeping space between the two of you, scared to jostle you. You turn your head into him, nuzzling as close as you can to his chest.

“It’s just nothing’s working,” you mumble. Dew hums softly, his hand inching back up to your hair, tangling his long fingers in the waves when you don’t flinch away, massaging the nape of your neck.

“Want me to get Aeth?” You shake your head, the ghoul chirps quietly in confusion.

“Please stay.”

“Okay,” Dew whispers into your hair, inching closer and closer to you. His heat melts you, and you feel stiff muscles easing ever so slightly, enough for you to sigh with some relief.

Dew’s quiet for a while, and with each minute that passes, he lets himself sink further into your mattress, lets his hands run down your arms, rub soothing circles into your hips.

“Hey,” he whispers, and you hum in acknowledgement, empty and exhausted. “Have you tried a hot bath?” You shake your head.

“I didn’t want to get up.” Dew nodded, his fingers drumming thoughtfully against the mattress.

“I’ll be back.” He gets off the bed carefully, stepping into your bathroom. The rush of water hits your ears and you sigh, gingerly rolling to your side, and sitting up slowly. You groan as the deep ache blooms to life in your hips, like it’s grinding away at your bones. When Dew comes back out and to find you trying to stand to slide your pajama pants off, he rushes over. “Hey! You could wait you know, I was gonna help you up,” he scolds, taking hold of your arms to help you to stand. The pain isn’t so bad now, having stretched out for the past few hours, but your muscles are tired, and you’re sure you were crooked.

“It’s fine, Dew,” you sigh. “I’m used to it.” He frowns at you, leaning down to pull your bottoms and underwear off. You’re too achy and tired to be shy, a thick fog clouding your brain. But even then, it wasn’t like Dew had never seen you before. Just never like this.

“So fuckin’ stubborn,” he mutters under his breath, and you roll your eyes, balancing yourself on his shoulders. “Just like Mountain.” You huff. He’s right. But you hated not being able to do basic tasks yourself. Even when it was too much, you’d just push through. And end up not able to stand up straight for the better of a week.

“Arms up,” he murmurs, and you do as he says, letting him pull your sleep shirt over your head. The walk to the bathroom is excruciatingly slow, every step sending an annoying spasm up your back. But Dew holds you steady, silent and patient. In fact, you’d never known him to be so patient, so soft. And right now, as he helps you slide into the tub, that thought makes you feel a little fuzzy. The hot water and Epsom salts feel like heaven right now as you settle into the tub, groaning. It takes a moment for you to find a comfortable position, but when you do the pain subsides quite a bit, and you close your eyes, sighing as you let your head fall back on the neck pillow you keep in the tub.

You haven’t realized Dew’s disappeared until you hear soft footsteps coming back into the bathroom followed by the gentle click of the door shutting closed. You crack an eye open to find the fire ghoul settling himself down on the floor next to you, a glass full of water in hand.

“You doin’ okay in there?” You smile softly and nod, taking the glass from his outstretched hand and taking long, slow, slips from it. You haven’t had anything to drink since lying down, and it definitely wasn’t helping your head one bit.

“Thanks.” Dew simply nods, and stares down at his hands. He’s tangling his fingers together, studying his nails, drumming them anxiously against the porcelain.

“Look, uh,” he starts, hardly meeting your eyes except for a brief flicker, so quick you hardly notice at all. “I’m not too good at the comforting stuff, so uh, I don’t know, let me know how I can help I guess.” You nod, and slide your had over the edge, finding his fingers and offering a squeeze.

“Thanks, Dew.” The ghoul stares down at your hands, huffing, a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

“Of course.” There’s a pause, a moment where he holds your hand, stroking his thumb over your knuckles, letting you calm yourself from the rough day. And you feel all that tension, all the heaviness and hopelessness start to pull away, letting you take full breaths again. You know it won’t last, bur for now it’s enough. “Do you want me to go? I can wait outside and you call me when your done—” But you have another thought. And you think it might be manageable now that you’ve relaxed a little.

“Come in,” you murmur, and Dew frowns.

“It’s not gonna hurt you?” You’re quick to shake your head and the ghoul quirks a quizzical brow at you. You merely shrug back.

“Not more than I already am. I’ll be okay.” After mulling it over a little, several nervous glances shot your way, Dew finally concedes, making quick work of undressing and climbing in carefully, and again, afraid to jostle you around too much. But finally, after deciding it was best for you to rest against his chest so he could hold you steady, you both sank back into the warm water.

“You comfortable?” you nod, letting your eyes slide shut. Dew’s warmth always had that effect on you. It was so soothing, like a hug around your bones, toasting you gently from the inside out.

“Like my living heating pad.” Dew snorts.

“So that’s in then. S’all you want me around for?” He teases, nuzzling the top of your head. You huff softly.

“It’s a perk,” you mumble, sighing heavily as Dew hums into your hair. “Thank you. For being here.”

“No need to thank me, Doll.”

“I know,” you reply, gripping tighter onto his forearm. “But still, I appreciate it. And I know you don’t really like the cuddly stuff—”

“I do,” he murmurs, and his hands melt further into your flesh. “I just don’t want to make it worse.”

“But you don’t. This makes it better.” And really, it did. You felt a lot less lonely since telling the ghouls, since having an actual caring support network. And the afternoon felt like it was miles away since Dew came to check on you. All the times he’d just sit with you quietly, just be in the same space with you so you weren’t completely alone. It meant the world. The ghoul hums thoughtfully.

“Right then, anytime m’lady requires her personal heating ghoul, say the word.” You grin, and nuzzle into his neck.

“Thanks, Dew.” The fire ghoul huffs, then plants a gentle kiss to the top of your head in response.

“Anytime, doll.”

[losfacedevil]

Safe Haven //S.F.K

a/n~ So, this was meant to be something short and angsty, per the request of the ever so lovely @writingcold​​  but has unintentionally turned into something so much BIGGER than I had ever even thought it would be. This is just the beginning. IT MAY NOT BE EVERYONES CUP OF TEA ~ but has become a healing journey for me. This is part 1 of 3.

WARNINGS: Mentions and graphics of physical/mental/emotional abuse, self harm, gaslighting, allegations. Possibly more, please let me know if I’ve missed any!

heart·break /ˈhärtˌbrāk/ Noun  Very great sadness and emotional suffering, especially after the end of a love affair or close relationship

They say emotional detachment comes long before the physical break up. People become fully detached from their other half emotionally and slowly realize they’re truly unhappy where they are. She had put a wall up between them months ago, protecting her heart and feelings as best she could as she rode out what could only be the worst to come. 

She was no longer happy; gone was the man she had fallen in love with years prior.

Now replaced with a selfish, manipulative narcissist. But she had initially found peace in the violence, her silence no longer speaking volumes to him as it once did. The constant chatter from him of her going out to ‘meet side guys’ and ‘talking to your other boyfriend, hmm?’ The ‘why’d you swipe that message away so fast?’ and ‘everything you’re doing is sketchy.’ fell on deaf ears as she started to do exactly what she was consistently accused of doing. 

She had met this man in a bar, the highlight of her girls night out as he showered her in compliments and bought her drink after drink - which was more than she could say her partner ever did. Her girlfriend wiggled her eyebrows at her as she took the phone she held so snugly in her grasp as message after accusatory message popped up on her screen. Her friend nudged her in his direction, eyes darting between her and the mystery man who was now engulfed in whatever danced across his phone screen.

Adjusting her top she spun in a circle, watching as the skirt she wore rose up in little ripples around her thighs. A giggle escaped her as she tucked her hair behind her ears, her feet guiding her in his direction of their own accord. She glanced over her shoulder at her friend, eyes wide as she grew closer to him; an encouraging smile dancing across her friends lips. 

A gentle tap to his shoulder had his full attention on her in lightening speed, a shit eating grin dancing across his face as he locked the phone he held so gingerly in his large hand. His hand found her hip and she leaned into him slightly, resting her lips dangerously close to his ear as she spoke. 

“I didn’t catch your name, Sunshine.” He chuckled, eyes of dark coffee finally meeting hers. “Names Samuel, but everyone calls me Sam.”

______________

She awoke with a start, headache blaring across the entirety of her head as she jolted into a seated position. He was banging in the kitchen, making every single noise ten times louder than they had to be. She screwed her eyes shut, hoping to dull the pain in her temples if she could keep the light out of her already sensitive eyes. 

Reaching over she slapped her hand down on the empty wood of the bedside table; it was then she realized her phone was long gone. Her eyes flew open as she scrambled out of bed, throwing on the closest pieces of clothing she could find as she stumbled her way out into the kitchen. There on the table sat her phone, a text thread sat open on the screen, one she realized was incriminating. 

He slammed the door to the cupboard he was looking in causing her to jump as she reached for her phone. His eyes snapped to her, shooting daggers at her as he crossed the kitchen in two long strides and ripped the phone from her grasp. Shock was evident on her face as she recoiled, pulling her hands back and close to her chest holding them in such a way she could maneuver them wherever she needed if she were to need protection. 

“Who the fuck is Sam?” 

A nonchalant shrug pulled her shoulders upwards, holding her hand out for the phone he was now scrolling through. Reaching out he landed a hard smack to the palm of her hand causing her to recoil into herself once more. 

“I said who the fuck is Sam?” She shrugged once more, snatching the phone from his grasp as she took a step back.  “A friend I met with Bree for drinks last night, we went to school with her is that a problem?” 

Lies rolled off her tongue far too easily now a days, so used to his paranoid manipulation that she couldn’t be bothered to play into it anymore. Gone were the days when she’d defend herself, prove to him she wasn’t doing what his mind told him she was and here to stay were the days she let his shit roll right off of her shoulders. He crossed his arms over his chest, standing toe to toe with her thinking that his towering over her would intimidate her. 

“Why have I never heard of her before?” He growled, a snarl pulling at his upper lip as he now leaned in, his face dangerously close to hers.  “Because she’s not a threat to you. She loves me for who I am.” She shrugged, another lie rolling off of her tongue as he uncrossed his arms. Clapping his hands down on her shoulders he shoved her, hard, causing her to stumble backwards and trip over her feet landing hard on the linoleum floor.  “Get your shit and get out.”

The consequences of her own actions didn’t even phase her as she stuffed what little items were actually hers into two little backpacks she would now live out of for who knew how long. A look of disgust graced her features as she collected her things, pulling her copy of the house key off of the key ring that hung on her belt loop and hummed it in his direction knocking him right in the back of the head with it. A groan slipped past his lips as he reached up to rub the now tender spot on the back of his head as he shot a look of absolute hatred her way. 

“Bitch.” He growled, turning his attention back to the television. She rolled her eyes, a simple ‘takes one to know one’ ripping out of her in an ear shattering scream as she slammed the condo door behind her.

________________

She took solace in knowing she was free - for now. Knew the games he played and didn’t really have her hopes up as she drove aimlessly around the city lost in her thoughts. Her subconscious mind brought her back to the bar she had graced with her presence the night before, reminding her of the excellent night she had before he had to ruin it. 

The clock displayed on the dashboard of her car told her it was far too early to start drinking and after not eating all day she knew it would be a bad idea to have even a sip of liquor. She let her head fall back against the seat, eyes fluttering shut as thoughts she didn’t want to deal with plagued her. 

The way his hands gripped down on her shoulders had her wincing in pain, a single nod of her head the only communication to him that she would be compliant. Pulling out of his grasp she shook her head, reaching up to rub at the now tender skin surrounding her neck. 

“I don’t understand how you’re such a slob, this house is always a fucking mess.” He scoffed, throwing his hands around theatrically as he made his way back to his spot on the couch. 

Tears burned the backs of her eyes as she quickly got to work washing the dishes he had created and left in the sink for her to take care of. Hot tears streaming down her cheeks as she closed her hand around a steak knife, contemplating just how much force she would have to use to split the skin of her palm - maybe then he’d be sympathetic and help. 

A loud chuckle sounded from the living room, knew he was back on the headset playing games with whoever still wanted to be his friend. The look of hatred she threw him was spitting daggers through the back of his head, offing him quickly in her minds eye. Without a second thought she squeezed her hand shut around the blade, digging it cleanly into the skin of her palm. 

A hiss of pain escaped her as she dropped the knife, a steady stream of blood running down her palm with the warm water that washed over it. She scrambled, quickly shutting off the water and bringing her palm closer to her face to assess the damage. A sigh of relief slipped past her lips as she realized it was a superficial wound that wouldn’t require special treatment or stitches. 

“You didn’t want to actually do it, dumbass.” She hissed under her breath, quickly wrapping her hand in a paper towel and slipping off to the bathroom. 

_______________

The sound of someone’s knuckles meeting her window shook her out of her thoughts, bringing her back down to earth with a shoulder shaking startle. Her eyes snapped open, looking wild as she turned her head frantically to the left, chest heaving as she tried to steady her breathing. 

A semi-familiar set of dark coffee eyes met hers, fear laced in his expression as her reaction had caught him off guard. Her hand flew to her face, covering her mouth as she willed away the tears that threatened to pool in her eyes as her breathing evened out. The boys eyebrows furrowed, motioning for her to roll down the window as he took a step back not wanting to be so up close and personal.

 Pulling a deep, shaky breath in through her nose she cut the engine and pulled her keys out of the ignition; her other hand finding the door handle as she braced herself for whatever was to come. She slowly pulled on the door handle, disengaging the mechanism as she gently pushed on the door giving him ample time to step back further before swinging the door fully open. 

A frown played on Sam’s’ lips as he took in her disheveled appearance, still dressed I  the mismatched clothing she had thrown on earlier. Swinging her legs out of the car she moved to stand, quickly stepping outwards and swinging the car door shut behind her. She leaned back against the car door, wrapping her arms around her midsection to keep herself together; her gaze landing on the dark brown Birkenstocks that hugged his feet. 

He took a step closer to her, hands stuffed in his pockets as he cocked his head to the side trying to find her gaze. Her hand began trailing up her arm, raising goosebumps on her skin as her thoughts enveloped her once again, a wince engulfing her features as her hand danced over a particularly sensitive spot on her shoulder. 

Sam’s eyes danced over her figure, taking in the polka dotted pajama pants that hugged her hips and the wrinkled t-shirt that hung to just below her mid drift, a sliver of pale skin peeking out between the two pieces of fabric. Her hair stuck out wildly, the majority of it piled in a messy bun on the top of her head while loose strands framed her face. His eyes followed the movement of her arm, couldn’t help noticing the look of pain that graced her face every time she’d brush her shoulder. 

He took a deep breath, taking another step forward as he almost closed the distance between them. The girl that stood before him wasn’t the bubbly light hearted girl he had met the night prior, a mere shell of what she had been and he needed to know why. He reached out towards her, gently curling his index finger below her chin and tilted her head slightly. 

A frown tugged at her peony tinted lips, the corners turning downwards as she finally mustered up the courage to meet his gaze. Her eyes fluttered shut as she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth, an ache settling in her chest as she choked back the sob that threatened to escape her. 

His thumb danced over her cheek - seemingly of its own accord - soothing strokes keeping her somewhat grounded as her body began to shake. Her fingers gripped at the hem of her shirt as her arms tightened around her midsection. Sam cleared his throat, unsure of what to say as she slowly began to fall apart. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He tried, keeping his voice soft, not wanting to startle the girl any further. She shook her head, unable to form any coherent thoughts as she reached up and covered her face with her hands shielding herself from him. A sigh slipped past his lips as he pulled his hand back, running it through his long dark hair as he rocked back onto his heels. 

“I… I’m not okay.” Her voice was barely a whisper as her reserve finally broke, sobs wracking her body as she let herself slide down the side of the car coming to rest on the ground below. A nervous chuckle escaped Sam as he kneeled down in front of her, resting reassuring hands on her knees; the material of her pants soft under his calloused fingertips. A shockwave shot through her body at the unexpected contact, causing her breathing to falter slightly as she pulled her hands down her face. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

She let her hands fall away from her face, eyes bloodshot and lashes stuck together with left over tears. Her shoulders raised in a shrug as she looked everywhere that wasn’t him. He leaned back, readjusting his long legs so he sat cross legged in front of her instead of perching on his knees, letting his hands dance gently along her lower legs. She watched his hands closely, knew if he moved them too far back he’d connect with another sore bruise that he had left on her. 

“I’m just a mess you don’t want to fix.” She groaned, letting her head drop. He shook his head, reaching up to place his index finger against the middle of her forehead tilting her head back so she had to look at him.  “You’re not a mess, just upset. Sometimes an unbiased ear helps to talk to.” 

She glanced upwards, crossing her eyes as she tried so hard to see where his finger met her forehead, a giggle slipped past her lips as a soft smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. A sigh of relief slipped past his lips, wanted nothing more than for her to feel better. He let his finger slide down her forehead and over the bridge of her nose, landing in a soft poke on the tip of her nose. She giggled once more, her eyes following the path of his finger, screwing them shut tightly before shaking the pain out of her eyes.

“There’s that smile.”  A grin spread across his face as she sighed, wrapping her arms around her legs as she rested her chin on her knees. 

She kept her eyes trained on his face, drinking in every little detail about him. How his eyes danced across her face, lids drooped slightly as perfect lashes kissed his cheeks every time he blinked. A dark chestnut brown mustache graced the space between his upper lip and nose, the sides of it falling softly down past his bottom lip nearly meeting the goatee that covered his chin. His bottom lip sat softly between his teeth, turning his gaze from hers as he focused on the skin on the side of his thumb he was picking at. 

“The question still remains,” he started, lifting his hand to his face.  “would you like to talk about it?” The question was muffled, his teeth closing around a small piece of skin he couldn’t seem to break from his thumb. A sigh slipped past her lips, leaning her head back to rest against the car door.  “It’s a long and complicated story. I really don’t think trauma dumping on an almost complete stranger is attractive.” 

Sam chuckled, shaking his head as he pulled his thumb into his mouth using his tongue to soothe over the now irritated and bleeding skin. Pulling he hand back with a pop he inspected his digit, shaking it slightly before wiping it on the side of his pants. 

“I don’t think it’s considered trauma dumping if I’m asking you to talk, love. I think they refer to that as venting.”

She shrugged, eyes dancing around the almost vacant parking lot as he continued his attack on his thumb. He gauged her expression, the pain and upset evident on her face. 

Her brows furrowed together, eyes squinted against the setting sun; worry was etched into her features, the corners of her mouth tugging down into a frown. He placed his hands down on each side of him, lifting his weight of his body up with his arms and he scooted closer to her, resting his hand back on her knee. 

“I mean it doesn’t have to be here. It’s a pretty sketch place.” He laughed, a boisterous sound she had yet to hear; one that shook her fully out of her thoughts as her eyes snapped back to him. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips, eyes fixated on him as he used her knee for leverage, standing to his full height and held his hands out in front of him. He raised a brow at her, wiggling his fingers in front of her. She reached up, curling her fingers around his as she allowed him to help pull her up to her feet. 

[dimalink]

Bass music

And about my music exercise a several word. There is nothing special. I am a music listener. And I all he time to have a dream to take in my hands a music instrument and to do something.

This is a smaller size of a jack input

I have a soviet bass guitar Ural. Now I can go back to bass guitar. It is a deal that several month, starting this 2024, it was a repair. I can say I try to make instrument ok about to repair. I need to fix a holes for mount belt with a wood. To screw out those bolts that were there. And screw in a new ones. I take a not expensive Chinese. With a silver color bolts for bass guitar. And already install them. And check them. All is ok. Color is beautiful. Silver. Such white. As metal. It reflects light. Surface of bolts white, metallic, silver and reflecting light. Such a little you can see it like a mirror a little reflects such effect. It is beautiful result!

My brother helps me at all the stages of process. Without him – I cannot to do these things. All complex things were made by my brother. And my part was to keep guitar straight and not to shake a guitar, while brother do the fixes. But bolts I screw by myself. They are self tapping screws. But before to setup them into the place, it is required to take a drill and drill a hole into the wood. This for example was made by brother. Little brother is clever. He can do deal with tech. A head works very good.

These are new silver bolts that hold the belt. They are shining and new!

So, all the things are done, in main, to return to bass music exercises. So I do not played it because of repair about a month duration. But it is not done with guitar itself. But to start a train it is already ok. I play while standing. And do not to plug in instrument. And play with pick.

This is a hole to put here a new jack input

Most close stage – already to plug guitar into sound card by input jack. Standard input. And here in my bass it is installed a smaller size jack. So, I decide to update it with standard jack. It is already goes from China. One moment is that on this guitar it has a flat element for jack output. So flat metal element, this metal thing, it should be flat. So, I select a silver color. So, it is light metal. Iron such as a visual. And square form. So, I wait for delivery.

And in network lots of them rounded. So, a curved rounded elements for jack input. It is American format. It is most common. But in China you can find a flat variation to setup a jack into a guitar. This iron should be flat for bass guitar Ural.

 As I setup. I can to plug in. And a main that I already going back to excises with bass guitar. There are several exercises I do. And with slowed tempo I try to learn something, that I call a cold wave, gothic. So,  about a last year, and this year I already learn it. But in slowed tempo. But I have not played for a month and already forget.

Dima Link is making retro videogames, apps, a little of music, write stories, and some retro more.

WEBSITE: http://www.dimalink.tv-games.ru/home_eng.html ITCHIO: https://dimalink.itch.io/ GAMEJOLT: https://gamejolt.com/@DimaLink/games

BLOGGER: https://dimalinkeng.blogspot.com/

[vivianleighwishesshewasme]

Soul Bound

Sophia and Gina Bouchard are moved by their love seeking mother to the town of mystic falls. No one is as they seem. Gina, the self proclaimed boring sister is being hunted down by the Mikaelson family. One particular brother seems to have a history with one. He claims their souls are bound by witchcraft.

_________________________________________________________

Chapter 1: The party

______________________________________________________________

“Come on, this is a great way to meet people. Promise me you wont be lame and you’ll actually try to meet people, try to be social.” My stunning older sister Sophia, a college student, had found a party to attend only two days after we moved to another state.

She was a summer baby. Tan skin, pale blonde hair that naturally waved and blue eyes. She was mom's bestie. They were both excited to move here.

Mystic Falls, Virginia.

Our mother had used a crystal to devine where we were to go. Her witch friend back home in Boise Idaho had told her a romantic destiny, a soul mate was there ripe for the taking.

My mother heard soul mate, Virginia and wealth. That all she and my sister cared about when it was decided that fate had intervened and we were moving.

I was practical like my father. Wealth was something you built on intelligence and hard work, you planned for life the best you could and carried yourself with grace. He’d named me Gina after his grandmother. Some southern Belle from Tennessee that debuted in the thirties. He’d adored her tales of romance, intrigue and wealth. I had never met her but I’d read her diaries. If I ever had a paramour in the family, it would have been her. I kept my blonde hair tidy but not trendy, I was short but thin.

I wasn’t in fashion or trendy unlike my mother and her mini twin Sophia.

I couldn’t be more alone with my two bubbly family members.

“I promise to not embarrass you intentionally.” I smiled tightly. I meant it. I really wanted to make a good first impression, I just didn’t care about parties or who was popular. I would rather know one person who gets me, then know fifty people and get followers on instagram and so on. I was boring with my writing fiction sites and dance classes.

“Ugh, fine, come here Gina.” She grabbed her wrist with her long pink nails and drugged me through a throng of townspeople. I liked this actually. The house was massive and well decorated. Lots of bold arches, paintings and interesting wood features. I wanted to get lost in this house!

“Where are we?” I asked. Her face screwed up in confusion. I could feel the excitement on my face. She wasn’t used to me having fun.

“The Mikaelsons, I think? I have two classes with Stephan Salvador and he invited me. I want to meet as many cute people as possible. Don’t wreck anything. Caroline, Elena, wait up!” I watched her chase after her “friends” that she met at the college. Fast friends they were all over each others social media and constantly texting.

I grinned happy to be abandoned in a huge old house. There had to be a library or a cool room I wasn’t supposed to be in. I squealed with excitement and skipped down the hall. Perhaps there was a garden out here?

___________________________________________________

I was right. There were massive grounds put back. Some were cultured like small European gardens, others a bit more savage with broken columns forgotten by time and wild. The savage garden was my favorite. I sat on a stone bench near the forest. I could hear the party and see the lights but I was alone.

I tapped my phone and found a short story I was editing for a friend, this was my kind of night.

“Gina? Gina Bouchard?” My head shot up at the mention of my name. The man appeared to be excited to see me. He reminded me of an imp. He had cropped red hair, an impish smile that promised fun and trouble. He was dressed casually with jeans, a green henley t-shirt and no shoes. My sister's type.

“Yes….” I said hesitantly.” Do I know you?” I asked standing up. His face faltered for a moment but he recovered quickly reaching for my hand. He held it up and kissed the back of my hand.

“ I’ve met your family.” He grinned at me. Definitely trouble.

“You seem like Sophia’s type.” I smiled politely wondering if she sent him out to fetch me. I bumped the screen of my phone and glanced down out of my peripheral trying not to be rude. It was only ten o’clock. She wasn’t going home anytime soon.

“And you, my dear, seem like my brother's type of woman. Come on. “ He grabbed my hand and before I could protest he was dragging me through the house and up the grand staircase. I made eye contact with my annoyed sister about half way up. She gestured to the cute man and spread her arms out. I had no idea what he was doing either. I stumbled now realizing we were at the top overlooking the party. This house was massive.

“Are you alright luv?” His British accent was charming and his boyish grin. I laughed and shook my head.

“Just wondering where we are going.” I didn't mind a tour but there were a few rooms to avoid, specifically bedrooms.

“Do you like art? I like to paint.” His deep rich voice pulled me forward, compulsion. I smiled and nodded following him slowing down to lag behind. I grabbed my grandmother's necklace, it was supposedly enchanted to keep the wearer safe from magic. I slipped the green stone necklace around my neck, grateful he didn’t turn around right away. I almost crashed into him once he abruptly stopped.

“Welcome to my studio.” He pushed the large wooden door open revealing a room cluttered with canvases and all things an artist could ever want in a lifetime. I gasped and eagerly walked in. Sketching and painting wasn’t my field of expertise so I loved looking at original works by people who had skill.

He and I were laughing and going over different styles and just silly things we saw and heard on social media sites. I was losing track of time.

“You seem to have found company for the evening Klause, having fun? ” A low, silky voice wafted through the room. It commanded respect. I looked up at the well dressed man in the door frame. He had short dark hair, piercing eyes, a chiseled jaw and he stood like a king.

I saw a slight resemblance, brothers perhaps.

“Elijah, this is Gina. I was just showing her some art pieces.” I looked at my host, Klause, to the man at the door again. I have met him before.

He held a glass or dark red wine and crossed the room as gracefully as a large cat. All muscle and eloquence. I stood instinctively. He took my hand and kissed the back of it just as his brother had in the garden. His eyes never left my face or neck.

“ Have you just moved to Mystic falls?” He asked genuinely curious.

“Yes, we've been here two days.” I wasn’t sure how much information I wanted to give out yet. Klause seemed nice enough but definitely supernatural.

“And you chose to grace us with your presence at our party. Thank you.” He seemed genuine but I’d been around my fathers family enough to know that the snobs could bite you verbally so subtly you didn’t know until later when you analized what they’d actually said.

“I meant no disrespect. I’m happy you attended.” He stood by me and the two men shared a series of interesting expressions.

My shrill little phone rang and I stepped out into the hall. Apparently it was time to go. It was eleven pm. I briskly walked down the stairs and almost crashed into Sophia at the base of the stairs.

“I wanna go, I hate this creepy place.” She looked hot, upset and disheveled. Not like her at all. I noticed two small little pricks by her neck. She kept rubbing her throat. I moved her hand concerned for her. It was fall in Virginia. It was chilly, bugs were out of the question.

“Are you bleeding?” I felt her pulse on her neck. She looked as if something had bitten her. “ Come on.” I wrapped my jacket around her and didn’t look back until I heard my name.

Nikolas and his brother Elijah stood overlooking the party. Concern laced the elder man's face. I shoved my sister gently toward the exit. I wasn’t in the mood.

“We’ll see you later Gina.” The red haired man called out to us. Sophia and I exchanged a quick glance and turned to flee to her car.

Definitely a weird experience. ______________________________________________________________

[chaoticgouda]

26. “okay so, can you like stop checking me out?”

   "well, if i can, i would. but nope, i can’t, sorry.“

For Comichi djdbdjs

Uhhhhhh DRABBLE ATTACK [flings this at you and bolts over the horizon]

[Word count: 754]

You were at your fucking limit.

The proverbial last straw had already been bent, mangled, rendered useless by whatever awful malicious hands of fate had decided to mess with you today.

The floorboards were threatening to splinter into a multitude of shards from the sheer force of your hoof as it drove into the wood, tapping an irritated pattern that only hastened every time you felt that smirk settling on your skin again. Their gaze itched like a cheaply-woven tunic, making your every hair bristle to attention.

You folded your arms snugly against your chest, ears pressed flat against your head as your nose sent out a small ripple of wrinkles. Two notes drifted teasingly into the air, whistled with such an air of smugness that you could just see the irritating smirk, even when you screwed your eyes in a vain attempt to shut them out.

"What." It was more of a snarl than a question, though your own nature betrayed any attempts to be intimidating. What was intended to be a threatening growl sounded far closer to a self-pitying bleat.

"What?" Comedee's tone was painstakingly innocent. Their voice was as light and floating as their own feet, hovering a few inches off of the ground. "Something got your horns in a twist, trinket? I'm just whistling, is that such a crime?"

"Whistling??" You whirled around to glower at them, a hand slotted firmly on either hip. "That wasn't- You're blatantly looking me up and down like I'm- Like I'm a slab of meat on the butcher's slab! It's demeaning, it's unnerving, and above all it's... Well." Brain floundering for a moment to come up with the perfect conclusion, you stammered out a weak  "Distracting."

You realised your mistake before the first glint of smug delight had time to bloom in their eyes.

"Distracting, you say? And what is it that you find so terribly distracting about my attention? Is there something you'd like to admit to the audience, Chime?"

The genie spread both of their hands out in a dramatic sweep, as if gesturing to this invisible audience. You could feel your eyes rolling in your skull even as the embarrassed blush took root in either cheek, spreading out until all of your face felt aflame.

It only served to encourage them more. Displaying weakness or embarrassment in front of Comedee was like passing a pinata and a stick to a kid who was hopped up on sugar at their birthday party - They would keep beating at your weak point until you burst, no matter how long it took or how much you protested.

Only with anger. Or humiliation.

Instead of candy.

And you were distracting yourself with metaphors as a way to escape the situation, again. Comedee had briefly paused their most recent monologue, the slow smirk on their half-covered lips indicating that they were fully aware of it too. Pan, you hated how adept they were at reading your expressions. It made you feel less like an open book, and more like a speech that was ready to be crowed out in the town square. Humiliating.

Sensing that your focus was back on them again, they swiftly continued where they had left off.

"Oh my, are you accusing me of some terrible crime? Is it truly so cruel to whistle, whilst committing the grievous sin of looking directly at someone? Is that the crime you're charging me with, trinket? Shall I be hung, drawn and quartered for daring to perform, as is my right and responsibility as the most perfect patron of the arts? Am I destined to b-"

"I just want you to STOP checking me out!"

"Oh, is that it? Well, if I can, I would. But nope, i can’t, sorry."

They shifted almost lazily until they were laying on their front, chin propped on both of their hands as they floated before you. Their head tilted to one side, lips stretching into a darkly curved grin as they watched you furrow your brow, then frown, then frustratedly stamp your hoof once more.

"Seriously?? It's not even that entertaining, you're stuck with me every day! Surely it's gotten boring, staring at the same person every da-"

Your sentence broke off as a finger booped your nose, causing you to snort in surprise and reel back from them. Blinking quickly, meeting their eyes, you felt your stomach flip as they flashed a saccharine-sweet smile at you.

"With reactions like that? How could I ever grow bored of playing with my most  prized possession?"

[movingtothefarm]

Decoding Screw Labels

example:  12-24 X 7/8 Hex Washer Head Self Drilling #3 Drill Bit

12 – Represents the thickness of the shank. Think dress size. The bigger the number, the thicker the shank.

24 – Represents the number TPI, or the number of threads per inch. The higher the number, the finer the threads, which are best used in metal applications. The fewer the threads per inch, the coarser the threads, the faster the screw will drive and are the preferred threading for wood applications or wood studs.

7/8 – measurement from underneath the head to the tip of the screw. In the case of flat headed screws, the length is measured from the top of the screw to the point.

#3 Drill Bit – Drill bit tips range from #2 to #5. They do not represent the size of the hole that they will drill but do represent the thickness of metal they will drive through. Source: All Points Fasteners by MaryLouise Eckman, Head Screw Lady Since 1986  

Self-Drilling Versus Self-Tapping

[ananka-fasteners]

Inconel Alloy 718 Fasteners: Manufacturer, Supplier & Exporter

Introduction

Inconel Alloy 718 is a high-strength, corrosion-resistant nickel-chromium alloy that is well-suited for extreme environments, including high-temperature and high-pressure applications. Due to its superior properties, Inconel 718 is widely used in the aerospace, marine, and chemical processing industries. Fasteners made from this alloy exhibit excellent mechanical strength, outstanding oxidation resistance, and superior weldability.

Properties of Inconel 718 Fasteners

High Strength: Inconel 718 fasteners maintain their structural integrity at high temperatures.

Corrosion Resistance: Exceptional resistance to oxidation and corrosion in various harsh environments.

Excellent Weldability: Can be readily welded without cracking, which is rare for high-strength nickel alloys.

Creep and Stress Rupture Resistance: Ensures long service life in demanding conditions.

Cryogenic Suitability: Performs well even in extremely low temperatures.

Types of Inconel 718 Fasteners

Inconel 718 Bolts – Hex bolts, carriage bolts, eye bolts, U-bolts, etc.

Inconel 718 Nuts – Hex nuts, lock nuts, dome nuts, wing nuts, etc.

Inconel 718 Washers – Flat washers, spring washers, fender washers, etc.

Inconel 718 Screws – Machine screws, self-tapping screws, wood screws, etc.

Inconel 718 Studs – Full thread studs, double-ended studs, etc.

Applications of Inconel 718 Fasteners

Aerospace Industry: Used in jet engines, turbine blades, and exhaust ducts due to high-temperature resistance.

Marine Industry: Applied in naval vessels, offshore platforms, and seawater applications.

Power Generation: Utilized in nuclear reactors and gas turbines.

Chemical Processing: Resistant to corrosive chemicals, making it suitable for processing plants.

Automotive Industry: Used in turbochargers and exhaust systems.

Standard Specifications

ASTM B637 – Standard specification for Inconel 718 forged products.

AMS 5662, 5663, 5664 – Aerospace material specifications.

UNS N07718 – Unified numbering system designation.

Chemical Composition of Inconel 718

Nickel (Ni): 50-55%

Chromium (Cr): 17-21%

Iron (Fe): Balance

Niobium (Nb) + Tantalum (Ta): 4.75-5.5%

Molybdenum (Mo): 2.8-3.3%

Titanium (Ti): 0.65-1.15%

Cobalt (Co): ≤ 1.0%

Aluminum (Al): 0.2-0.8%

Carbon (C): ≤ 0.08%

Silicon (Si): ≤ 0.35%

Manganese (Mn): ≤ 0.35%

Sulfur (S): ≤ 0.015%

Mechanical Properties of Inconel 718

Tensile Strength: 135 ksi (931 MPa)

Yield Strength (0.2% offset): 70 ksi (482 MPa)

Elongation: 30%

Hardness: 30-40 HRC

Advantages of Inconel 718 Fasteners

Withstands high-pressure and high-temperature environments.

Excellent fatigue and creep resistance.

Resistant to pitting and crevice corrosion.

Long service life with minimal maintenance.

Why Choose Ananka Group for Inconel 718 Fasteners?

Ananka Group is a trusted manufacturer, supplier, and exporter of Inconel 718 Fasteners. We provide high-quality, precision-engineered fasteners that meet international standards. Our fasteners are available in various sizes, grades, and custom specifications to suit industry needs.

Key Benefits of Choosing Us:

High-Quality Materials: We use premium-grade raw materials for manufacturing.

Precision Engineering: Advanced machinery ensures accurate dimensions and performance.

Global Supply Network: We export to countries worldwide with timely delivery.

Competitive Pricing: Affordable rates without compromising on quality.

Conclusion

Inconel Alloy 718 Fasteners are ideal for applications requiring superior strength, corrosion resistance, and durability. Their ability to withstand extreme conditions makes them indispensable in aerospace, marine, and industrial applications. Choosing a reliable manufacturer like Ananka Group ensures you get the best quality fasteners that meet stringent industry standards.

FAQs

Q1: What makes Inconel 718 different from other Inconel grades?A1: Inconel 718 has excellent weldability and high strength, which sets it apart from other Inconel alloys like 625. It is precipitation-hardened, making it ideal for high-stress applications.

Q2: Can Inconel 718 fasteners be used in seawater applications?A2: Yes, they offer excellent resistance to seawater corrosion, making them suitable for marine and offshore environments.

Q3: Are Inconel 718 fasteners expensive?A3: While they are more costly than stainless steel fasteners, their durability, high performance, and corrosion resistance justify the investment.

Q4: Do you provide custom sizes for Inconel 718 fasteners?A4: Yes, Ananka Group offers customized fasteners in different sizes and specifications as per client requirements.

For premium-quality Inconel 718 Fasteners, contact Ananka Group today!

[ravirajrrr]

Top Screw Manufacturers and Suppliers in India: Spotlight on Real Fasteners

When it comes to sourcing high-quality screws and fasteners, selecting the right manufacturer and supplier can make a significant difference in the performance and reliability of your projects. In India, where the manufacturing and supply landscape is both diverse and competitive, finding the best screw manufacturers and suppliers requires a bit of insight. Among the prominent names in this industry, Real Fasteners stands out for its commitment to quality and innovation. Let’s explore why Real Fasteners and a few other top players in the industry are your go-to options.

 Why Quality Matters in Screw Manufacturing

Screws might seem like simple components, but their quality can drastically impact the durability and safety of your constructions and machinery. High-quality screws ensure proper fastening, resistance to corrosion, and overall reliability, which is why it's crucial to choose a manufacturer that adheres to stringent quality standards.

 Real Fasteners: A Leader in Screw Manufacturing

Real Fasteners is one of the most notable names when it comes to Best screw suppliers in India. With a reputation for excellence, Real Fasteners offers a wide range of screws and fasteners that cater to various industries, including construction, automotive, and electronics.

 Key Highlights of Real Fasteners:

1. Diverse Product Range: Real Fasteners provides a comprehensive selection of screws, including machine screws, self-tapping screws, and wood screws. This variety ensures that they can meet the specific needs of different applications.

2. Quality Assurance: The company follows rigorous quality control processes to ensure that each screw meets industry standards. This focus on quality helps in minimizing failures and maximizing performance.

3. Innovative Solutions: Real Fasteners invests in research and development to keep up with technological advancements and industry demands. This commitment to innovation ensures that their products are up-to-date and efficient.

4. Customer Service: Real Fasteners is known for its excellent customer service, offering support and guidance to help clients choose the right fasteners for their needs.

 Other Top Screw Manufacturers and Suppliers in India

While Real Fasteners is a standout choice, several other manufacturers and suppliers also deserve recognition for their contributions to the screw industry in India.

 1. Unbrako

Unbrako is a renowned name in the fastener industry, known for its high-strength and precision screws. Their products are widely used in critical applications where performance and reliability are paramount.

 2. Precision Fasteners

Specializing in a range of fasteners, including screws, bolts, and nuts, Precision Fasteners is known for its commitment to delivering high-quality products with precision engineering.

 3. Ganga Forging

Ganga Forging offers a broad range of forged and machined screws suitable for various industrial applications. Their emphasis on durability and performance makes them a trusted supplier in the industry.

 4. Fasteners India

Fasteners India is a comprehensive supplier of screws and other fastening solutions. They are known for their extensive inventory and ability to meet bulk orders efficiently.

 Choosing the Right Screw Manufacturer and Supplier

When selecting a screw manufacturer or supplier, consider the following factors:

1. Quality Standards: Ensure the manufacturer adheres to international quality standards and has certifications to back their claims.

2. Product Range: A diverse product range can offer more options to find the exact type of screw you need for your project.

3. Customer Support: Good customer service can provide valuable assistance and support throughout your purchasing process.

4. Reputation: Look for manufacturers with a strong reputation in the industry for reliability and quality.

In the competitive landscape of Best screw manufacturers in India, Real Fasteners shines as a leader in delivering high-quality and reliable fasteners. However, other notable companies like Unbrako, Precision Fasteners, Ganga Forging, and Fasteners India also play a significant role in meeting the diverse needs of various industries. By choosing a reputable manufacturer and supplier, you can ensure that your projects are supported by top-notch components that enhance performance and durability.

For any industry-specific requirements or bulk orders, reaching out to these companies can provide you with the right solutions to keep your operations running smoothly.

[jfeindia]

304 Stainless Steel Fasteners | S30400 bolt

When it comes to fastening solutions for industrial, marine, and architectural applications, 304 stainless steel fasteners stand out as a top choice. These fasteners, often recognized by their UNS designation S30400, are a versatile and reliable option that combines strength, corrosion resistance, and aesthetic appeal.

What is 304 Stainless Steel?

304 stainless steel, commonly known as 18/8 stainless steel, is an alloy primarily composed of 18% chromium and 8% nickel, with a balance of iron and trace elements. Its properties make it a widely used material in various industries, especially for fasteners.

Key properties include:

Corrosion Resistance: Excellent resistance to rust and oxidation, even in harsh environments.

Strength: High tensile and yield strength for demanding applications.

Non-Magnetic: Typically non-magnetic in annealed conditions.

Ease of Fabrication: Good weldability and machinability.

Types of 304 Stainless Steel Fasteners

Bolts: Available in various sizes, including hex bolts, carriage bolts, and U-bolts.

Nuts: Hex nuts, lock nuts, and flange nuts complement bolts for secure fastening.

Screws: Options include self-tapping screws, machine screws, and wood screws.

Washers: Flat and spring washers provide additional stability and load distribution.

Threaded Rods: For structural and machinery applications requiring extended fastening.

Applications of S30400 Bolts

Due to their excellent properties, S30400 bolts find use in industries such as:

Construction: Structural frameworks, bridges, and roofing systems.

Marine: Boats, docks, and other equipment exposed to salty water.

Automotive: Components requiring long-term durability.

Food Processing: Equipment and machinery that require hygiene and corrosion resistance.

Chemical Processing: Fasteners in mildly corrosive environments.

Advantages of Choosing 304 Stainless Steel Fasteners

Corrosion Resistance: Perfect for outdoor or high-humidity environments.

Versatility: Suitable for diverse industrial and commercial applications.

Aesthetic Appeal: Smooth and shiny surface finish enhances the appearance of projects.

Cost-Effective: Offers a long service life, reducing maintenance and replacement costs.

Recyclability: A sustainable option that aligns with environmental goals.

Care and Maintenance

While 304 stainless steel fasteners are highly resistant to corrosion, certain factors can influence their longevity. Follow these tips for optimal performance:

Avoid exposure to chlorides or clean with a mild solution to prevent pitting.

Use a protective coating for environments with high salinity.

Regularly inspect and clean to remove dirt or chemical residues.

Why Choose 304 Stainless Steel Fasteners for Your Next Project?

Whether you're working on a small DIY project or a large-scale industrial installation, 304 stainless steel fasteners offer a dependable solution that balances durability, strength, and aesthetics. Their superior performance in challenging environments makes them a go-to choice for engineers, architects, and builders worldwide.

[sorrynoroomsavailable]

Наївне ненаївне Групова виставка Резиденція Вибачте Номерів Немає Закарпатський музей народної архітектури та побуту Куратор проєкту та виставки: Олександр Ляпін Архітектура експозиції: Петро Ряска 15 листопада - 2 грудня, 2024

На світлинах у пості вид фрагменту групової виставки:

На 1-й, 5-й і 6-й світлинах на передньому плані: Леся Улибіна, Без назви, паперові скульптури.

На 1-й світлині на задньому плані зліва та на 2-й світлині по центру: Сергій Колодницький, “Сорочка”, авторська змішана техніка, дерево, саморізи, папір.

На 3-й світлині / на 5-й світлині задньому плані зліва / на 6-й світлині на задньому плані зправа: Любов Матіко “Ільницькі крає��иди”, 2015 р., полотно, олія, “Пісенне Закарпаття”, 2014 р., полотно, олія, “Музики”, 1998 р., картон, олія,

На 4-й світлині / на 6-й світлині на задньому плані зправа: Олена Аляб'єва, “Ранковий пейзаж”, 2024 р, ДВП, акрил, акрилові маркери. “Рожевий аромат”, чорна серія 2022 р, ДВП, акрил, акрилові маркери. “Осінні квіти”, полотно, акрил.

Резиденція ВНН звертає увагу на роль культури та мистецтва в часи російсько-української війни, має на меті реалізацію інституційно критичних проектів пов'язаних з культурною спадщиною (матеріальною і нематеріальною), розвитком художньо-культурних інституцій. 

Програму резиденції ВНН, групову виставку та участь Олександра Ляпіна реалізовано завдяки грантовій підтримці від The Académie des beaux-arts in Paris (French Academy of Fine Arts)

(eng)

Naive notnaive Group exhibition Residence Sorry No Rooms Available Transcarpathian Museum of Folk Architecture and Life Curator of the project and exhibition: Oleksandr Liapin The architecture of the exposition: Petro Ryaska November 15 - December 2, 2024

The photos in the post show a fragment of the group exhibition:

In the 1st, 5th and 6th photos, in the foreground: Lesia Ulybina, Untitled, paper sculptures.

In the 1st photo in the background on the left and in the 2nd photo in the center: Serhiy Kolodnytskyi, Shirt, mixed media, wood, self-tapping screws, paper.

On the 3rd photo / 5th photo in the background on the left / 6th photo in the background on the right: Liubov Matiko “Ilnytsia Landscapes”, 2015, oil on canvas, “Song Transcarpathia”, 2014, oil on canvas, “Music”, 1998, cardboard, oil,

On the 4th photo / on the 6th photo in the background on the right: Olena Alyabieva, “Morning Landscape,” 2024, fiberboard, acrylic, acrylic markers. “Pink Fragrance”, black series 2022, fiberboard, acrylic, acrylic markers. “Autumn Flowers”, 2024, canvas, acrylic.

The SNRA residence draws attention to the role of culture and art during the russian-Ukrainian war, aims to implement institutionally critical projects related to cultural heritage (tangible and intangible), development of artistic-cultural institutions. 

The SNRA residency program, the group exhibition and Oleksandr Liapin’s participation were implemented thanks to the grant support from The Académie des beaux-arts in Paris (French Academy of Fine Arts)

Photo credit: Petro Ryaska