#anyway just wanted to get out this little thought

[prettyboykatsuki]

cause we're, y'know | k. bakugou

✮ tags ; gender neutral reader, fluff, post relationship jitters, bakugou being down bad a little bit, friends to lovers. not 18+ but minors do Not follow me.

✮ wc ; 1k

✮ a/n ; a comm for @euthymiya who gave me free reign to do whatever which i used to write corny bkg fluff... thank u for commissioning me most beloved riv <3

✮ synopsis ; bringing his friend turned lover a lunchbox is normal, alright? plenty fucking normal.

Bakugou taps his fingers along the edge of the bench he's been sitting on since evening - beating to an unsteady rhythm.

He can Sero's voice in the back his hand as he squeezes the wrapped bento a little closer to his torso. The shitty, sing-song teasing lilt when you and Bakugou were less then lovers but more then friends.

And now you're lovers proper, as fucking corny as he finds it. But maybe he's not finding it corny enough because he's sitting in the lobby of your office building with a bento he made by hand. There's some chatter from strangers coming in and out of your office building - the occasional ding of elevators, the passing whistle of a janitor.

The awful, loud, no good thump of his heartbeat ricocheting against his rib cage as he goes back and forth on whether or not this shit was a good idea.

He's... fucking nervous. Which is total bullshit because he doesn't have anything to be nervous about. It's not like this is the first time you and Bakugou have ever met up to eat lunch. It was just that before, he was coming to meet you as a friend.

Some part of him is thinking, so what if he's your boyfriend? Who gives a shit, anyway?

Another part of him feels so mixed about the ordeal he sort of wants to puke.

His phone buzzes from the pocket of his pants and he grabs it - your phone and contact flashing across his screen

(sent 11:12am) coming down :]

Bakugou smiles to himself, at the stupid emoticon. He thinks about just liking your reply but before he gets the chance another text follows through.

(sent 11:12am) missed you <3

He blushes almost furiously. Partially over the text but mostly from his internal reaction. Stupid. This whole thing is so stupid. He types fast.

(sent 11:14am) hurry your ass up.

That's all he can manage to say without feeling like his chest is going to collapse in on itself. He waits another minute before he hears the elevator doors ding again - a crowd of people dispersing as the doors open. He looks for you among them.

He finds you after a minute, hand waving overhead of the sea of people. He huffs, amused at how rapidly you wave your hand, and thinks about texting you again but you're close enough that he doesn't bother.

You march towards him with a renewed vigor after you aren't lost to the sea of strangers. Bakugou snorts as you hurry your way over to him, almost seeming out of breath - like you ran to see him.

"Hey,"

"Hi!" You say, chipper as always. "You're here."

"No shit."

You laugh. He's heard it before. A hundred times, a thousand maybe. It still sounds weirdly different to him.

"Did you have anywhere in mind to eat?" You ask.

Horror dawns on him at the realization you still didn't realize what's in his hand. "I'm up for anything I think. Feeling adventurous."

Your eyes are sparkling when you ask. Bakugou freezes, blue screening momentarily before taking a breath.

He holds the boxed bento out to you sheepishly, a hand scratching the back of his neck. This is way more embarrassing then he thought it'd be.

"Fuck. Whatever. Look," He says, shaking the upset off of him with a frown. " He doesn't look up at you, doesn't even want to know what he might see. Something bright enough to fucking blind him, he's sure. "Don't say shit or I'm never making you one again."

You blink owlishly before letting your eyes flicker down again at what it's in front you. There's a beat of silence between you before Bakugou sees a grin slowly creep it's way up to your face in a way that makes his chest feel tight.

You take the wrapped bento from him, assessing the weight of it in your hand as you give it a good look. You hold it up to admire it and Bakugou feels the blush crawl further down his neck.

"Stop acting like I just handed you a diamond or some shit," Bakugou says lamely, even by his own standards. Your lips form into affectionate pout.

"You made me a bento." Your lower lip trembles all too sudden and Bakugou's eyes go wide. "I love you,"

?!

Bakugou looks at you, mouth agape. You're completely serious. Nevermind the inappropriate timing or the fact this is the first time you've expressed yourself with a word so serious. He's more concerned about the almost tears at your eyes. He pulls his sleeves over his hands to wipe them from your eyes.

"Dumbass, what are you crying about? You're still in the office, get it together."

"But I love you," You say, more whine then coherent word. Bakugou feels a headache coming on.

"Yeah I got that. Am I really such a shithead me bringing you lunch is worth sobbing over?"

"You made it for me."

"Cause I ain't no punk. Anyone can pay for you you but we're," He stops himself mid way, too embarrassed to get the rest out. "Anyways whatever. It's just lunch. I just... fuckin' realized I never made it for you. Dinner and shit is one thing but we're,"

"Dating," You finish before he can. He falls victim to more blushing.

"Yeah. Whatever. This much is pretty standard, at least." He wipes another tear off your face. It's funny. Anyone else pulled some shit like this and he'd rolls his eyes. "Stop cryin' already."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't gotta say sorry either."

"But,"

"No buts. Hurry and wipe your tears before your breaks over so you don't go all puffy eyed back in the office."

You laugh through a sniffle. "They'll think my boyfriend was being mean to me, huh?"

He snorts, voice full of playful sarcasm. "Yeah exactly. I've got a great reputation to uphold and all."

"Katsuki," You say gently. He gives you a look.

"Hm?"

You lean forward, craning up just slightly to press your lips to his. Your third kiss, now. Not that he's been counting.

"Thank you and," You pull back mischievously, brows furrowing. "Revenge."

He's in so deep. Fuck.

"You're such an idiot." He says, fighting off his own feelings.

"You love me,"

Maybe he's an idiot too.

"Yeah." He says, flicking your forehead and watching you beam. "Unfortunately."

[uselesstaroth]

AITA For Living?

I (???M) am a scientist. Through my life I have come up with innovation after innovation, particularly in the field of space travel.

Thing is, space travel is a bit too complicated for computers to handle, so I started creating genetically modified clones of myself to do the calculations that the computers can't.

Now, I know that sounds inefficient, but put around 400 of them in glass cases solving it day in and day out, combined with the modifications, and it's way better than any computer. I figured it's perfectly ethical, they're all basically vegetables with a penchant for math.

Much to my surprise, one of them wasn't, and kinda singlehandedly crashed our spaceship, after killing all the other clones with his stylus (that he used to solve the equations) and left with an escape pod. The only escape pod.

Now, I managed to escape via a little experiment of mine: a time travel vest!

It had... Unfortunate consequences.

Anyway, I estimate it's 3 googol years later (that's 3 followed by 100 zeroes), and I'm starting to have second thoughts about my life. Also the clone that escaped is still alive, somehow.

I've met him, and he tried to kill me, but at this point I don't think anything can, even if I want them to. I die, and then another me pops up right around the corner. It's strange to experience.

He wants me dead more than he wants this planet to stay intact, and I can't even give him that.

Now you might be asking, why would I want to give him that? Well the answer is pretty simple.

I put him through hell. All 400 of those clones were locked in identical cages with nothing but a stylus and a screen, freedom at arm's reach, but never conscious enough to reach for it.

And the one that was? Well, he saw all his siblings, and had the hope of escaping with all of them, but they were all catatonic. He killed them all because he couldn't bear that one of his siblings would survive the crash and then just be used again.

And... he was just a kid. He shouldn't have gone through that.

Should I have not tried to survive? He found me almost immediately after I managed to pop back into reality. Should I have not even tried? I ripped away the peace he had when he thought I was dead, is that, as they used to say, "a dick move"? It should be ultimately his decision if I get to live or not, but that's not in the cards, so what do I even do?

if you're trying to get into the head of your story's antagonist, try writing an "Am I the Asshole" reddit post from their perspective, explaining their problems and their plans for solving them. Let the voice and logic come through.

[sweetshuga]

𝑴𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝑺𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 ✰ 𝑰𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒆

───~𓆩♡𓆪~───

𝒃𝒇!𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕! Warming his dick in you after experimenting with snow. "Fu—ck, y’feel so good, so fuckin’ warm."

𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒂. @issysh3ll... Her asks inspires me everyday. «𝑰𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒅»

𝒘𝒄. 𝟫𝟧𝟩

𝒑𝒔𝒂. English is not my first language! A little bonus since I accidentally posted Smutmas before I was supposed to<3 𝑴𝑫𝑵𝑰

Matt woke up earlier than usual, groaning softly as he stretched his limbs before carefully disentangling himself from your sleeping form. He stood up and immediately walked to the window above his bed. Lifting the curtains up slightly to see the weather and his eyes lit up, it was snowing. His mind pinged with an idea—his painfully stiff morning wood dragging his mind into the gutter.

He grumbled a complaint under his breath about his dick being too insatiable before slipping on an oversized white jumper that hid his arousal. Ready to go out and get some snow from outside to do his little experiment he just thought of.

The moment he stepped outside a shiver ran down his spine from the cool breeze, "fuck, why’s it so fucking cold outside?" He mumbled as he briskly walked towards his car where there was a thin sheet of snow covering the roof. He carefully extracted a small amount of snow into a plastic bag before walking back inside, letting out a shuddering breath.

"Hm? You’re up early, and is that snow?" Nick laughed in amusement as he walked towards Matt, "I can’t believe you went out at 5 am just to get snow in a plastic bag, what’re you even gonna do with that? Don’t tell me you’re gonna rub—" Matt punched Nick’s arm, making him let out a loud noise.

"Ow motherfucker! What was that for?" "Why are you awake?" Nick raised his eyebrows, "why am I awake? Well, someone has to edit the fucking videos, and I didn’t wake up, I just didn’t sleep." Matt shook his head slightly, a laugh escaping him despite himself, making Nick’s annoyed expression falter and morph into a grin.

𓆩♡𓆪

Matt finally managed to get back to his room, exhaling softly as he closed the door behind himself. He walked away from the door and towards the bed, checking if you were still sleeping before he walked to his gaming chair. Plopping down on it, he looked at the bag of snow that still somehow hadn’t melted yet—much to his excitement. He quickly pulled down his pants, letting out a low groan as he palmed his painfully hard erection.

He tugged his jumper over his head and shrugged it off, leaving him in a black tank top, and his pj flannel pants down mid-thigh. His red briefs had a blotch of precum soaking the front, and he was quick to pull his briefs down slightly, letting his hefty length spring free. "Fuck," he rasped as he swiped his thumb over his tip, collecting the steadily leaking precum before spreading some of it around his shaft.

Matt couldn’t resist giving himself a few pumps, letting out a series of muffled moans as he did so. He reluctantly let go of himself – his length twitching from the loss of friction – and took the bag of snow. He knew it was nearly impossible to put the snow flake by flake on his tip, but he wanted to try anyway—his curiosity clouding his common sense.

𓆩♡𓆪

"Fuck this," he groaned aloud, tossing the bag of slushy of snow onto his desk. His tip was cold, slightly red and swollen from not getting relief, and he could feel himself shuddering. Suddenly, he felt a gentle hand carding through his hair. "What’re you doing baby..." Your voice trailed off when you looked down at his lap – his cock standing at attention – before taking your gaze back to his face which now had a pink-ish hue to it. All sleep, that lingered, vanished into thin air, an undeniable heat pooling in your panties from the erotic scene.

"Matt, what—" he cut you off with a quick mumble that sounded something like "It’s fine, i’ll deal with it myself". You chuckled softly, "you sure?" He gulped audibly, his resolve crumbling bit by bit. "I mean... I don’t wanna burden you, you don’t have to—" he paused and sighed—knowing his hands couldn’t compare to your warm pussy. "I take it back, please, sweetheart?" You smiled and pulled him up and towards the bed.

He stumbled slightly due to his pants and briefs around his thighs, but made it to the bed nonetheless and plopped on it, his erection bobbing obscenely. You chuckled before tapping his thighs, "c’mon, up." He immediately lifted himself up just enough for you to pull his pants and briefs further down, letting it pool at his ankles and shimmied out of your own underwear before straddling his lap.

He hissed in a breath when he felt your warmth on his much cooler skin. "Fuck, baby, hold on—" he let out a shaky moan when you teased his tip against your already slippery slit. He felt his need increase tenfold, the sensation of your warm and wet pussy against his poor sensitive tip proving to be too much for him, and in an instant you were laying under him with wide eyes from the sudden change in positions.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, gripping your hips tightly before suddenly plunging deep inside without any warning. The coolness of the head of his cock against your much warmer insides sent tingles down your spine. "Oh fuck, Matt," you moaned, your head thrown back against the pillow and eyes shut tightly to prevent it from rolling back. Your hands flew out to clutch onto his forearms when he started to move.

"Fu—ck, y’feel so good, so fuckin’ warm." He groaned, his hand coming up to cover your mouth, "shh—sweets, we’re not alone—mffh, you know." He didn’t wait for a reply and instead started to increase his pace. Making sure to hit all the right spots. He knew everything about you—and your pretty little cunt, after all.

𓆩♡𓆪

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @strnilolover @mattsfavoritestar @sophand4n4 @tpwktahlz @lilyyliloo @slut4angstt @pvssychicken @poolover123 @loud-sturniolos @inlovewchrissturniolo @sagesturns @chrisstopherfilmed @billiesbabya @h3arts4nat @moosegirl96 @sofiaaguilaxx @sturniolo-fann @goingtojohnkramershouseee @sturniolosluttt @chrislilcumslvt @mattsninja @bilssturns @sturnioloszn @slvtf0rchr1s @knowingnothingnoel @shadowthesim @brookheartsmatt @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @m00nl1ghts1vt @strnlslut @ribread03 @hearts4werka @larallott @ivysturnss @chrisfavoritewhore @peiivnao @sturniolokaulitz @diasturnsth

© sweetshuga

[xinganhao]

🎸 vernon dates rockstar!reader. (4)

vernon x rockstar!reader who's a foreigner in an international rock band (4) a.k.a the one about fighting ➤ see also: series masterlist

‧₊˚✩彡 includes: international rockstar!reader, f!reader, long distance/established/newly-public relationship, pet names, fluff, angst, one (1) suggestive joke, best read in order + headcanons under the cut. rollercoaster ahead!

fight (v.), endeavor vigorously to win.

i.e. Vernon has fought to get to where he is. He clawed his way through his trainee days. He worked his ass off during their debut. Even now, even as SEVENTEEN reaches meteoric heights, he's still working tooth and nail to deserve every minute of fame that he's been vouchsafed. He does it for his family. He does it for the group. And, as of more recent times, he does it for you, too. You're equally as driven with just as much on the line. You have a band to herald, a completely different scene to navigate. You're passionate, and determined, and Vernon loves you for it. He does. It's why he's still so steadfast himself— how can he not be? When he turns to you, he sees a future. And it's a future he wants to be part of, so he'll be damned if he doesn't work to deserve it.

fight (v.), attempt to repress (a feeling or an expression of a feeling).

i.e. Vernon has always been in control of his emotions, but he finds himself battling them a lot more often nowadays. He fights down the urge to defend your honor at any given turn. He fights down tears when the two of you argue. He fights his insecurities the most; all those the terrible thoughts that threaten to drag him under. They come for him at night, when he's lying in bed and trying to get some sleep for tomorrow's schedule. It's always a vicious, quiet whisper in the back of his head. You're not enough or she'll want something more or this isn't going to work out. The thoughts run marathons across him mind, leaving him breathless and winded without him even moving a muscle. But then you'll send a text, or you'll ring his cell, and the heavy feeling in his chest eases up. Just a bit. Just enough for him to shoot back a reply and trust that he'll have you for one more day.

fight (v.), move forward with difficulty.

i.e. More often than not, it's a war of attrition. It's Vernon and you versus the fans. It's Vernon and you versus the press. It's Vernon and you versus his company, your label. He likes to think it's never him versus you or vice versa. That the two of you are always going to root for each other, no matter what battle you're in. He fights past all the baseless fan theories and stupid gossip columns. He fights the company's stricter rules, your label's disapproving stance. Vernon is still perfectly polite— as much as he can manage to be, anyway— but he has also made it abundantly clear. Vernon will go down fighting if it's for you.

fight (n.), the inclination or ability to fight or struggle.

i.e. There are some days where Vernon is worried that he doesn't have any fight left in him. His job is demanding. Yours, equally so. And the added layer of your relationship being under constant scrutiny is a strain, a thorn in your side. A curse more than it is a blessing, really. On the days where it feels a little too much, Vernon will sit down and write. He prefers doing this on paper and pen but his phone's Notes app will do when he's in a pinch. In it, he writes three reasons why he loves you. It all begins with I love you because... I love you because you sing like an angel. I love you because you get along with my parents. I love you because of the way that you laugh. Call it a reminder. Call it a boost. Whatever it is, Vernon hasn't run out of it, years into dating you. It is a never-ending list that gives him the courage to square his shoulders, to dig down deep and find that fight. That all-encompassing reason that boils down to I love you, I love you, I love you.

fight (n.), a vigorous struggle or campaign for or against something.

i.e. Any relationship has to be fought for. But it's not something that can be done alone, not something that Vernon can singlehandedly accomplish. He can protect and persevere all he wants, but if he's the only one still in this, then what's the point? That, to this day, is his biggest fear. When the smoke clears, when all is said and done— Will you still be fighting with him? Will you still be fighting for him?

[project-sekai-facts]

I'm just gonna leave this here because I feel like I should say something. Mizuki is trans, I still agree with the stuff I said a month ago. Did they say it in the story? No. Were they ever going to say it in the story? Well it seemed like I was but they just pulled the most insane 4 year queerbait.

Did people warn me? Yes, and I probably should've listened more, but from a writer's perspective what happened in Ena5 is very stupid so I had a little bit more hope for clpl. Confining any sort of actual coming out scene to a card story and fading to black over the actual reveal is honestly just cruel. Not to mention that Mizuki's bio is probably locked as "gender: ?".

Mizuki is still a trans character and trans representation, though the lack of actual confirmation really sours her story. Especially since the only indirect confirmation of her identity as a woman comes from student a talking to Ena about Mizuki (the whole Ena is a "normal girl" thing). Having Mizuki being robbed of her chance to come out by transphobes, and never resolving this so her bullies are left as the only credible source of her gender is atrocious. Mizuki being outed was a crucial plot point, to never resolve just leaves a bad taste.

It's still a glaring issue that clpl is trying to play both sides here. Which has always been an issue with things like white day and other marketing featuring Mizuki and the boys together. It's just gross that they're still trying to do it now, cutting off the actual reveal of Mizuki's secret and having the characters say "Mizuki is Mizuki", something that's often used by people who want to deny any trans reading, and a new area conversation about Mizuki's voice. Remember that old area convo about Mizuki having a lower voice. It gets referenced in a new one.

The reveal of the secret itself, transness aside, is comedically bad. Project SEKAI's writing isn't exactly amazing by any means, it's pretty basic in the grand scheme of writing, but this is worse than a lot of their other worst offenders. Building up to this big reveal of a secret that is incredibly important to one character's development, only for it not to actually be revealed, and probably never mentioned again, is ridiculous. It feels like a last minute change to ensure mass appeal but I don't know if it was. If it was, they still failed because some fans are dissatisfied that they never got told what it was, regardless of what they think it was.

And no, it's not corporate meddling. Probably. From colopale, maybe, from Sega, honestly probably not. Sega has other franchises and games with queer and specifically trans characters so it's not like Mizuki would be harmful to their brand image. If anyone interfered it was other staff at colopale.

Anyway, I'm not quitting the game and I'll still be running this blog for the time being. Not saying you have to continue playing and I totally understand people who are dropping the game over this. If anyone wants to add their thoughts to this post or send an ask freel free to.

[hvbris]

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

"I don' care what Vinnie said," grumbled Big Tony at the wheel, before switching the engine on and driving away. Violet stared out the window as the streets started to blur, the car picking up speed. Well, she was trapped in that car, now. And she had to think fast. Her phone was in her pocket, but there was no way she could text her dad without the man next to her seeing it.

She tied her hair up with her ribbon and then put her belt on. Violet needed a clear mind. And as always, the motion helped. If these men were from that cultist mafia her dad had told her about, then they had kidnapped her because she was her father's daughter. Were they going to kill her, to get back at her dad? She didn't want to "sleep with the fishes," an expression which here meant being killed by a bunch of cultists in pinstripe suits.

"I know who you are," she replied curtly. She wasn't a cultist. But they didn't know that. And maybe they wouldn't kill her if they thought she was a cultist too. It hadn't worked with Sloane, in the cowboy timeline. But maybe it would work now? She didn't have any other plan, anyway. With "Little Tony" sitting next to her, she couldn't even try to open the car door.

"Do you know who I am?" She raised her eyebrows. Violet wasn't just acting randomly, she was trying to emulate a cultist she knew, a cultist who looked just like her. Her "evil" counterpart. "Clearly you don't, or you wouldn't have made such a stupid mistake."

"Aayee," Little Tony complained at the order to get in the back with Violet. "Vinne says it's my turn tah drive" He protested but his shorter legs on the ice meant he really didn't have much of a choice. Annoyed and grumbling as Big Tony climbed into the driver's seat, Little Tony put himself beside Violet and slammed the car door closed moodily. "Selfish beastard."

Taking a moment to cross his arms and rub his shoulders, it was cold out there. Sometimes the price of fashion was more than just a light wallet! He spared a glance at Violet. "Put ya belt on, kid. I don' wanna deal with no dramas about road safety."

He made the effort to put his on too and in doing so Violet might have caught sight of not only a fancy gold handgun with engravings on the barrel but a small dagger like knife were both attached to his belt, on the far side from her. "We're just gonna go for a lil' trip. You don' worry abou' it." He explained almost uncaringly as he looked to Big Tony in the front, jealous he got to drive but stuck with what he had none the less.

Finally he looked to Violet properly, his arm leaning on the arm rest of the car door and his body partly turned towards her as he watched her. "Do ya know who we are, kid?"

[satoruan]

When he knew there was nothing better in this world than being a parent  — Jujutsu Kaisean

( cw ) f!reader, fluff, domestic , mentions of surgery, Toji gets bullied 😢

featuring. Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Toji Fushiguro, Nanami Kento 

authors note. I found this draft and was like ??? when did I write 💀 but anyways I like 2/4 of it so 💁‍♀️ I could name a million things better than being a parent but shhh 🤫

GOJO SATORU

Gojo had just put her down, and she was already screeching again. He was starting to get annoyed; he had work to get to, and she just wouldn’t settle down. Sighing, he stood back up and made his way to her, peeking over the top of her crib. Almost instantly, she stopped, and a big toothless smile spread across her face. She let out a happy little sound. He leaned over, picked her up, and she snuggled into his chest, smiling and cooing. Satoru melted in a way he didn’t know he could. His baby just missed him and in that moment he knew he'd do anything to keep that smile on her face.

TOJI FUSHIGURO   

Toji never cared about what the general public thought of him. He was who he was, and nobody's opinion was going to change that. However, when a group of teenagers at the restaurant started to loudly talk and point at the scar decorating the side of his face while he was with his son, he couldn't help but feel a surge of anger. When his son glanced up and made a face, a tendril of insecurity took root in Toji's mind. Maybe the scar was a bit ugly—perhaps his son had always hated it but never said anything. Toji turned his attention back to his plate and started to play with his food; he wasn't that hungry anymore. In his peripheral vision, he saw his son stand up and gently touch the scar with his small hand. "I think you look cool, Daddy, like a superhero." his son said before giving him a quick kiss on the cheek and returning to his meal.

GETO SUGURU  

Geto was lost in his thoughts when he felt a hand gently caress his stomach. "Daddy? Are you okay?" his daughters asked from the side of the bed. He hadn’t heard them come in. He had just had his appendix removed, and it hurt—a lot. "Yeah," he lied, offering them a small smile. They took this as a sign to crawl up onto the bed. One of them settled next to the bandage on his side, while the other came up to pet his hair and face. "You’re going to get better soon, Daddy. We’ll take care of you," the eldest whispered before placing a gentle kiss on his forehead, just like he did every time they were sick.

NANAMI KENTO  

Nanami knows he has the best daughter in the world when she rushes up to him in a panic just before he’s about to leave for work. He looks down at her with a questioning expression. “I just want to tell you to have a good day at work today because I know you came home sad yesterday.” She smiles shyly up at her father before wrapping her small arms around his legs. He quickly kneels down to give her a proper hug. “I love you, Daddy. I wished for you to never have a bad day again before I went to sleep.”

[ir-abelas-vhenan]

Losing My Mind over Veilguard 8/??

See, I waited a perfectly reasonable amount of time before coming in swinging again but I actually cannot get over how dead the game is. Literally. (Me ranting about an early game quest in Minrathous incoming)

Spoilers below the break

So. The first time you go to dock town? And Neve says in one of seventy different ways "no you don't have to come with me, this is my home not yours, I can handle this myself if you want to stay back" ?(but the showing not telling argument is for another day so I'll refocus and conserve energy for another day). Anyways.

This quest. The one where you go into the chantry in Minrathous and surprise!

Dead bodies absolutely EVERYWHERE.

I took a screenshot and then lost it, but it's worth mentioning that in my game, Neve's line of dialogue above about tracking down family and friends of the deceased didn't even trigger. If it had, however, I still would have lost my mind.

Why, you might ask?

Because after counting, losing count because I was counting so high, and then recounting about seven thousand times I can confidently tell you that plus or minus two to three more corpses, there are EIGHTY SIX dead bodies in the CHANTRY. The holy center of an incredibly popular religion! And even if it weren't that! It is a massive grounds with EIGHTY SIX DEAD PEOPLE who were KILLED HORRIFICALLY BY THE VENATORI AND DEMONS. How are you going to have the time to track down next of kin for that many people? And WHY are we acting like this is NORMAL?!

Dock Town is played very one-note already as a neighborhood where sketchy things happen and people go missing and it's best to just keep your head down if you're not in a position to do something about it.

But oh my sweet baby Maker come onnnnnnn.

You aren't going to recover from this if you're this branch of the Chantry. Presumably, you've just taken a massive hit across all levels of your religious hierarchy and that takes time and training to fill. And dock town is poor as hell, so where are you going to get the funding to fix this sudden staffing issue?

How does this affect (per @housederiva's iconic posts) Viper? Ya know, the guy we have found out through datamining is literally the Black Divine?? All we see (in the scenario where Treviso is saved) is him sadly sitting outside the chantry going "we remember the fallen" and that's presumably for the people lost when the dragon attacked, with nothing spared for the (again, I can't not lose my mind over this) eighty six dead people who were devoted to the same cause he is!

A whole smattering of holy women have just been yeeted off the mortal coil and it means absolutely nothing to your immediate party save for some of the emptiest lines ever, the city as a whole, or in the larger lore of the game. At all.

There are so many moments like this that had me rapidly oscilating between screaming at my ceiling and looking exactly like this:

And this isn't even something they can pass off as being too tied to the source material and wanting to start "fresh". This is just lazy, empty, disappointing storytelling and it's why I lose my mind a little more every time I see an ardent defender of the game tell an older fan to "get over it" or "let go of your expectations."

Because having something like (so sorry) EIGHTY SIX DEATHS go down with actually NO ripples throughout the rest of the game coming from ANY studio, let alone one that used to kill this kind of thing, is crazy to me. And I will die on that hill, even if it means Neve just kind of skips over my body on her way to find my next of kin only to never spare me another thought again.

[despressoslatte]

not the zoey you wanted (four)

pairing: zach maclaren x female reader!

summary: you waited all weekend for your boyfriend, Zach, to call or text, anything, to explain why he had just went and ghosted you when you were supposed to go with him on a family ski trip to meet his parents, his sister Avery, and his cousin, Miles.

content warnings: angst; victims of catfishing; miscommunication trope

a/n: a big big BIG thank you to everyone who has been enjoying this fic! I love seeing everyone’s comments and inbox messages dissecting the story and making predictions! I wrote for OBX back in 2020 when the show first came out under a different blog (in case anyone here remembers a blog called jjmaybankx, HI! Though that’s just a generic username, it might be hard to remember that specific iteration ahaha), but i had just created this blog the same day i put out this fic… and i am in awe of how well received and how much you guys are actually invested in this little world i have conjured up whilst dreaming of bf!drew. I am very honored <3

Masterlist | < part three | add yourself to the taglist

ᯓ⟢

How you were supposed to just get up and go to your afternoon classes after what had just happened was beyond you, but you had an important peer workshop in one of your writing courses and then straight to the tutoring center for you. 

Day one was hard, as you navigated the complexities of whatever the hell had just happened. You were angry: angry at the car for hitting Zach, angry that he had even for a second thought that Zoey Miller had been you, angry that she let him think that knowing it was wrong, angry that she did any of what she did at all. And most of all, angry that you were even angry with Zach for it.

Tuesday rolled around and you had to go to the class you had with Zoey Miller, with anger seething in your veins but the inability to cause a scene. You hadn’t told anyone, not even your roommate Bree, what had happened. You felt like if you made a big deal and spoke about it, then you would likely never get over it. 

You felt her eyes on you as you typed your notes during the lecture, having sat a few rows and seats to the left in front of you. Could she like… not? Face forward and pay attention to the class, stop staring at the girl whose boyfriend you tried to steal after trying to steal his cousin, thanks. 

Your next shift at the tutoring center was on Wednesday. Instead of having assigned tutees for the day, you had a five hour shift in the tutoring center where you mainly did your own homework, helped student athletes figure out why the printers wanted to act up and not print their assignments, and help the few random people who would come up to the reception desk to ask you for help on a writing assignment or to proofread their essays.

You paused as you set your coffee up and laptop down on the desk, looking across the tutoring center to see Zach hunched over his own computer in one of the middle tables, typing away. He was one of the few athletes who wasn’t assigned to mandatory study hall hours after he had gotten his grade up, thanks to your one-on-one tutoring sessions and then, once his girlfriend, study dates together in his dorm or yours. He normally wouldn’t be caught dead in the tutoring center if he wasn’t required to be there, preferring to do his homework on his own anyways.

But there he was, regardless. 

A week passed and Zach didn’t try to talk to you at all, just like you had asked. You also never saw him walking around with Zoey Miller, a recurring minor nightmare you kept on having. Thank God, you thought every time you’d see one of them around campus without the other. Zoey Miller came to class looking miserable every time, and each time you worked a shift at the tutoring center, whether it be study hall monitoring or a few hours of one-on-one tutoring, Zach was there, during his homework by himself at one of the tables. 

“Hey.”

You looked up from the book you were engrossed in, taking off one airpods to see Zach in front of you, his laptop in his arms.

“Zach…” you sighed softly.

“I’m not here to bother you, I swear,” he reassured you, sliding his laptop to face you. “I just… actually need your help with this one, promise.”

You looked down at his screen to see an essay typed out. You glance up at him again.

“It’s a big part of my grade, so I was wondering if you could proofread it,” he said sheepishly, putting his hands in his pockets.

You exhale and nod, motioning with your head to the seat next to yours. A smile beamed across his face, and he rounded the desk to sit down next to you, both of you half facing each other as he watched you go over his essay in suggesting mode, making comments and edit recommendations. 

“I like the color you painted your nails,” he said softly.

“Zach,” you warned.

He shut up.

You got to page five of the essay, having only had to make a few small grammatical suggestions, a small smile building on your face for how well written the essay had been. When he wanted to apply himself, and knew how to, Zach would always be extremely smart. Sometimes, when it came to subjects he didn’t quite care for, he just didn’t care to put in the effort. But he was very smart, he had to be a student athlete. 

Plus, you knew he had little moments of crises when he thought about his future. He didn’t think he’d make it pro, but he also wasn’t passionate for other things the way he was for soccer. He felt aimless sometimes. The ironic part of it all was that he chose English Literature as his major, the classes he struggled with the most and hence how you two met.

You had given him the idea before that if he really didn’t think he could go pro, he could keep playing soccer or being involved with it through coaching at high schools or even middle schools. But you also always told him that you thought he had it in him to go pro. He was the school’s soccer star, you weren’t sure why he always sold himself short.

“You okay?” his voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

You had been stuck on page five for longer than it would have taken to read the page over twice, Zach just sitting there in anticipation of what you thought he needed to fix before he looked over at your face and noticed you were zoned out.

“Yeah, yeah,” you shook yourself out of it, continuing to scroll down through his essay.

Another excruciating fifteen minutes until you were finished reading over every line intricately and leaving any commentary needed, you slid the laptop back closer to Zach.

“Just those edits, and it’s all good,” you told him, trying to avoid looking at him.

He tapped the desk, nodding. “Thanks,” he said, and you pursed your lips and nodded.

You bit your lip to try and prevent yourself from asking the question that has been hot on your mind, but the words vomit out before you can stop it, “How come you’ve been doing your homework here?”

You finally look into his striking blue eyes, seeing them widen before his cheeks turned a light shade of pink.

“It’s the student athlete tutoring center,” he pointed out, then pointed at himself. “Student athlete.”

You titled your head to the side, giving him “the look” as you said, “Zach…”

“Fine, fine,” he sighed with a small laugh, closing his laptop closed. “It’s the only time I ever get to see you, okay?”

You had an inkling feeling that was it, and you just nod in response.

“I can stop if seeing me bothers you,” he whispered.

“Seeing you would never bother me,” you said back.

The hopeful smile that erupted on his face made your heart sting.

The moment you two were having was interrupted when another student athlete walked up, asking for help since the printers weren’t working. You offered Zach a small smile, and he gave you a wave, before you got up to go to the opposite side of the tutoring center to figure out the printer.

ᯓ⟢

On your way to class the next day, you paused in front of the class you had with Zoey to see she was standing a little bit to the side of the pathway talking to Zach. You slowed your steps down a bit as you stared at them. You couldn’t see his face, but you could tell from the back of his head, jacket, and backpack that it was him.

That same guilty look was on Zoey’s face, and she was shaking her head. 

You could tell from Zach’s body language that he was upset, the way his shoulders lifted and his arms moved about as he talked, the way he did when he was trying to drive a point. 

You didn’t feel like watching them talk, putting your head down and heading into the building to go to class.

ᯓ⟢

“So, she broke up with you?” Zoey asked as she stood there staring up at Zach. She had asked him if they could talk when she saw him walking by on her way to class, and with an irritated huff, he agreed.

“She did not break up with me,” Zach said back sternly, shoving his hands into his pocket, kicking a rock on the floor. “She is just taking time to… process… what happened between you and I on the ski trip…”

“I didn’t mean for any of that stuff to happen… I—”

“I don’t really care what you meant to have happened,” Zach said back with a shrug. “You knew you weren’t my girlfriend, pretended to be anyways, and now she won’t talk to me.”

“Well, I don’t get why she’s upset with you when I’m to blame,” Zoey quipped back, earning a look from Zach.

“Don’t,” he shook his head at her. “Don’t try to make her out to be the bad guy here.”

“I’m not,” Zoey shook her head. “I’m just saying—”

“I don’t care what you’re saying, Zoey…” he sighed. He wiped his face with the palm of his hands and huffed frustratedly. “Look. It’s just a lot for her. First, she thought I ghosted her all weekend. Then, it looks to her like I had cheated on her, and then when she found out the truth, she hears that I was starting to feel things for you, and—”

“You were starting to feel things for me?”

He gave her an irritated glare when that was all she had heard from that.

“I love Y/N, okay?” he said to her sternly, using his hands to point to himself and then off to the side for emphasis. “Not you, not anyone else, just Y/N. Whatever fake relationship you and I had when I didn’t have my memories, that’s all it was, fake. You are not the Zoey I wanted.”

Zach looked away from her, and that was when he saw the back of your head, face pointed to the floor, as you sped-walked away into the building. He couldn’t tell if you had seen him and Zoey talking, but from the way you were walking so damn fast, maybe. Damn it. 

He turned back to Zoey, who had tears in her eyes. And he felt bad, because he didn’t enjoy making girls cry.

“Just…” for the umpteenth time, he sighed. “Just stay away from me and my girlfriend, I’m begging you.”

ᯓ⟢

taglist: @faephoria @maybankslover @ursogorgeous13 @khiatonsx @enchantedstarfish @starsmoonn @zulema222 @10ava01 @ietss @rafegf-real @leather-n-velvet t @avengersgirllorianna @chalahyung01 @thaissette @emberaurora @isabellaxlilah @matchieee @purplerose291 @wtfdudesblog @mattyskies @onlyrealjoy @sabrina6272827 @probablyreadingsmutlol @loupiotesworld @tqd4455 @persefone200 @dreamygirli3 @tobucina @h1ghw4y-blog @k-k0129 @harrys-housewife @pillowprincess4him

hoping all of these tags worked, some of them weren't popping up when i typed them! i've retyped them all by hand like 3 times, but each time i save it, it comes up as half of the list not actually tagged, so pls let me know if it tagged you!

[k1tty5]

I would like to make it clear that I do NOT want anyone’s firstborns, but I will ramble. for you.

rambles about the process and other thoughts under the cut! I talk a LOT, so… view at your own risk?

I originally had this idea a couple months ago, I think when I first heard the song. I had made a little test for it, which I didn’t end up doing anything with because I thought it didn’t really make much sense. Which, I’m not sure I did that great of a job making this make sense, but you know. Whatever.

this is the original drawing i made for it back in early august, very rushed and not a big fan of it.

I liked the black background & grayscale palette, as well as the way the string kind of . Twirls around the text? BUT, I went into this without any planning, mostly just me doodling and then threw the lyrics on for fun. No plot or whatever, very short.

After I made this, I was kind of just keeping this idea in mind for later, but I held back on trying to do it as I just wasn’t really sure where I wanted to go with it. I’m very bad at planning and tend to rush into things a lot, which ends up hindering the quality of a lot of my art. and since this was something I actually liked the idea of, I wanted to give it my all.

There was also the fact that because I liked the idea, I wanted the best outcome. This kind of ends up in a sort of paralysis where I don’t want to work on something because I’m not good enough for it, but I did realize that I will likely never consider myself good enough for it, so why not just go for it?

Anyway ,

I did not end up keeping the black background for the reason that I decided that this time around I wanted it to have a more traditional vibe/look? Like perhaps it was scrawled over some roughed up paper, hence the sketchy style and limited palette.

And as for why I didn’t keep the string looping around the pages, I just thought that would add too much red to the pages, sort of ruining the vibe. So I instead just kept it inside the panels!

these are the original thumbnails/sketches! most of them I kept the same, but I did end up pretty much entirely changing the third page, because I decided there was already too many panels of just their faces with somewhat unsettled expressions .

thoughts on individual pages - don’t expect me to be organized or this to be well thought out, by the way,,

on page 1 ,

I started with a shot of the relationship, mostly to just… set the scene. I am NOT an expert on comics, and went into this with very minimal planning, so this work in general is more of the vibes than it is a storyline, but I did try to vaguely get it to resemble something comprehensible.

the second panel of Etho brushing Joel’s cheek is very much no thoughts for me lol, not very happy with how it looks. I do picture Etho as the more openly affectionate one (though i can see it both ways). BUT, to match with the lyrics, you could say that the first panel paired with “it’s hard to tell which elements of this are real” could be resembling that the boat is something tangible and physical, whereas the second panel paired with “and which are chemically enhanced” is referring to whatever feelings they have. Asking themselves if this is really real, or if it’s just the game.

no notes on the third panel lol. like i say this was not well thought out, the story is somewhat there, but it’s VERY much up to interpretation and I did intend it to be that way. I have ideas about what is happening, but I want to keep it up to the viewer.

on page 2,

“But it’s not easy to tell what I want from what I need” OH BOY !!! manic red joel. blinded by the bloodlust and rage and adrenaline. he needs this. he needs it, doesn’t he?

“I am more scared of myself than I am of anyone else” okay okay okay. I don’t headcanon he has any real remorse for killing anyone. this is a death game, you’re not meant to be a good person, this is built on lies and manipulation and blood and hurt. headcanon they’re all insane people doing bad things (with a forced hand or not). BUT !!! big fan of “i break everything i touch” kind of thing (its kind of a pattern in ships i like OOPS). so much angst. regretful of your violent nature, wishing to be gentler so that you can cradle his face without digging your nails into his skin, unwanting to break the only thing you’ve learnt to love.

but. etho doesn’t care !!! he doesnt care. his hands are just as bloody as yours, don’t you see?

on page 3,

panel one is just a continuation of the last scene which i just talked about blah blah blah

panel 2!! thats a portal. we all know what happened in the portal :)

on page 4.

ending the mini comic thing with the ship burning, while it started with a shot of the ship in its prime. before and after, how it started and how it ended.

all in all, I !! AM !!! INSANE!!! about them. I could ramble for hours probably but this is already long so ending with a couple final thoughts.

this is definitely meant to be set after they’ve gone red, when in that timeframe is up to you, though. in my vision the lyrics are kind of correlating to c!joel’s thoughts/feelings/whatevers, but it can definitely go both ways - or neither way lol. This song is really just like. THEM. To me.

anywho, thank you to anyone who has put the augh’s and ough’s in the tags, they’re very gratifying haha <3

the simplest words

[everyonewooeverywhere]

X-RATED X-MAS DAY 1: TATTOO ARTIST SEONGHWA

pairing: tattoo artist!seonghwa x female!reader

rating: 18+

content/warnings: pet names (baby, pretty girl), oral sex (m rec.)

notes: this is just day 1! so if you have any requests or ✨thoughts✨ my inbox is open

NSFW 18+ | MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

His face always lights up when he sees you book with him. Has a special notification just for it, and he always gets so excited seeing that “Baby 💋” booked his late-night slot. You were always intentional about that, weren’t you? Making sure to make your appointments well into the night. Usually long after everyone else would be gone. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t make those appointments just for you. After all, he could always focus better when it was just him alone with his favorite client. 

Makes himself sick with anticipation just wondering what you’re gonna get this time. There are so many places he hasn’t done yet. Your spine, your sternum, and even your collarbone still lay untouched by his art. And he’s just been begging for the day that he finally gets there. Just thinking about it makes him hard. And you haven’t even walked in the door yet. But simply imagining the way his ink lays out on your skin is so fucking enthralling to him. His baby. His favorite canvas.

Everyone is practically gone by the time you usually come in. And he’s only aware of your presence because of the bell above the door that dings when it swings open. That coupled with the clack of your heals on the tile floor and the way you call his name. “Hwa? You here?” And you continue to his station when he calls to you “Over here, baby.” He fails to hide the way he eyes you up and down as you walk over to him. Smiling when you greet him with a hug, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting his hands fall to your waist.

And he always asks, “What are we doing today, pretty girl?” You start playing with the ends of his hair. He knows what thet means straight away. You frown a bit, letting your lip jut out at him, “I wanted to get my tailbone done. I don’t really know what though…but you always know how to make me look pretty.” He smirks at you, “Thank you, baby. I’ll draw up something really pretty for ya. Now what was our budget for today?” It’s a leading question. You both know it. And you just look up at him with big eyes, lip pulled between your teeth. He never should have asked. It’s not like he was gonna make you pay anyway. Not with money at least.

You always look so painfully pretty in his chair, too. And back tattoos are his favorite. Gives him such a perfect view of your ass. Which you playfully wiggle for him from time to time. Just for him to smack your thigh and tell you to “Sit still, baby” before going back to his work. But he’s always shamelessly hard when he’s tattooing you. Especially when you whine at something hurting. Or when you just talk to him in that sweet voice of yours. The one you use when you want something.

And you do want something. Not just the free tattoo. And Seonghwa always pretends he’s not gonna fuck you. Telling you he has to “be professional” and warning that sex with a very fresh tattoo is a horrible idea. But when he finishes your little tramp stamp and the first thing you do is drop to your knees in front of his mirror? He has no other choice. His fingers are tangled in your hair as you bob your head on his cock. Always taking him so well. Your hands, which are adored with his work, gripping his thighs for dear life. And he can act surprised all he wants, but in the end you’re always just his pretty girl on your knees for a pretty tattoo.

general taglist: 

@swimmingkpopblog @oddracha @drinkingrumandcocacola @minaateez @funnyvxlentine 

@sunnysidesins @skzdust @princelingperfect @seomisaho @bigboymoozz

@fireseo @atzlordz

ateez taglist: 

@certifiedmoa @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @curiousgworge @hyukssunflower @hotteokisms 

@sushiinmidnight @atiny-dime-p1ece @mismatchfluffysocks @vic0921 @vampzity 

@breadpuddingboys @woolysium @desirehorizon @im-ovulation @pommelex 

@dancingwithdeities @maidens-world @jycas @kirbrary @aftertherain-atr 

@staytinyinmybpack @m4n4-s4m4 @jjcanwrite @yvnhoos @uninterested-ghost 

@yizhou-time @shinyj3lly @kyeos4ng @prettygirlslietoo @miriamxsworld 

@tiny2018 @ttdogsworld @kejingken @fandom-freak-geek @minkioswoo 

@bkimrose @strawbshrtcks @dwcljh @linearities @tiredlittlevirgo

@kwoncheesecake

[knavesflames]

ARLECCHINO’S HANDS

A little thing about Arlecchino’s hands I wrote while multitasking because I’m thinking thoughts and I can’t do anything about them >:( the world hates me rn

contents: hands. hands doing sexual things. I love hands could you tell. HANDS.

nsft utc!

Think about Arlecchino, a graceful yet ruthless harbinger. There is nothing but violence in the darkened palms of her hands, skin stained with the blood of those she had so viciously slaughtered once before. Said hands are taken care of meticulously, however. Manicured stiletto shaped nails painted black and red, you aren’t sure that you’ve seen her with her hands looking anything less than perfect. Even in the dirtiest, most bloody of battles, the first thing she does is wipe her hands off.

Two nails are filed down, just enough for them to be blunt. Everyone notices, nobody asks. They seem to know the answer. How could they not, when you’re always draped around her arm, looking up at her like you’d give her the world (you would) (her world is you) You’re either staring at her hands or holding them. The question of your enjoyment of them needs not to be asked.

Of course, when you’re not in public, caressing them, holding them, or staring at them, they’re holding your waist as she fucks into you with her favourite strap, her eyes piercing into yours while her breath comes in sharp pants from the effort of slamming into you, and her voice coming out in hoarse praises of “good girl”, “you sound so pretty”, and “you take my strap so well, don’t you?”, her words demanding a response from you, whether it be moaning, whimpering or babbles of confirmation and requests to keep going. Occasionally, when she’s feeling particularly kind to you, one hand will come down to allow her thumb to rub soft circles on your clit, allowing you to cum around her quicker. The sound of her hips meeting yours rings out and you could swear it drowns out the sound of her breathing.

Or, if they’re not gripping your waist, one of them is between your legs, two fingers pressing into you and curling when they reach the gummy spot inside of you that causes your legs to buckle, and one is gently pressing on your lower stomach, just to tease you a bit more, to cause more noises but to also make sure you can’t move and chase more of what she’s giving you. You get what she wants, when she wants. But you love her hands, and you love the way her palm grinds against your clit when she adds a third finger.

When she’s feeling particularly frustrated, for whatever reason, she enjoys wrapping said hand around your pretty throat, squeezing at little intervals to remind who truly controls you (at least in that moment, anyway). She enjoys watching your breathless smile and your stifled moans, and absolutely adores the way your face changes and contorts when you reach your orgasm thanks to her skilled digits constantly working inside of you and her thumb rubbing circles on your puffy clit the way she knows has you trembling within seconds.

You adore her hands, and the many ways you can make use of them.

[k0mmari]

SYSTEM! SHEN YUAN PT.3

Too tired to do my obligations, but too stressed out to sleep, so here we find ourselves again.

This, once again, got horribly long- so long, in fact, I think this is the longest post in this 'trilogy'-, so I apologize in advance (╥ᆺ╥;) I also apologize for the lack of doodles, but dont worry! Im preparing a special one for later <33

After that night where SY offered Binghe an umbrella, things have certainly… changed. Unlike before, where SY spent most of his time mapping away at the ridiculously complex castle hallways and carefully marking away which times it was most likely for SY to be able to get close to Xin Mo, alongside doing his ‘servant’ duties of gathering dirty laundry and cleaning a room here and there, his routine had been suddenly adjusted; now, while he still needed to do everything he was doing before, his servant duties consisted of accompanying the chosen Wife Of The Day.

Or, well, that’s how one of the higher ranking staff had put it, that he was to attend to whatever wife Lord Luo decided to entertain for the day, but honestly, SY was starting to suspect that that had been a convoluted way for Binghe to have SY around whenever he wanted, which…. Was frankly quite worrying! To have the golden protagonist keep his eyes glued on his back almost every second they were in the same room, which - if SY looked back- usually led to Binghe looking away in a (bad) attempt to pretend he wasn’t glaring daggers at SY was more than enough for SY to think the Emperor was probably plotting his demise.

What else could it be? Specially with the way Binghe’s hand seemed to always be lightly tugging at the tassel on his hair every time SY caught him looking, he suspects Binghe had caught onto SY not actually being a servant, and instead that weird guy he saw before he fell into hell that one time. What if Binghe thought SY was somehow involved into the Abyss Incident?? Lord Luo, please have mercy on this servant!

Though, maybe the strangest part of it all, was that sometimes Binghe and SY would just… talk. Usually when the Wife Of The Day was doing something else (e.g. playing music for her husband, or practicing archery, or doing anything that didn’t involve LBH 100% at her side), Binghe would just start musing out loud about the strangest things. It started with questions that were all fair to ask, like ‘How come this servant is a human in the demon realm’, or ‘How come this servant has such short hair’ (SY bullshitted something about being a former slave) but eventually it shifted to questions that were a bit more… random. Or, well, not even questions, musings that Binghe muttered out loud but clearly wanted SY’s input.

It started with minimal things, like Binghe wondering about some type of monster he wanted to fight but he forgot how to do it without damaging the fur too much, which, after a minute of silence and a not-so-subtle look at SY, led to SY nerding out and saying not only the monsters weakness, but what could be done with every important part of the body. Though, the day after that SY realized how strange it was that Binghe was wondering that out loud, since he only fought that monster well into his time as an Emperor, and he swore he remembered one of the wives gushing about her new bracelet that was made from the rare bones of that creature just a few days ago…

Anyways, it continued with questions of similar nature: musings on how to kill a monster Binghe would have no problem killing, to what he should eat for dinner, to what gift should he get for Wife Of The Day. Of course, SY answered all the ‘questions’, and sometimes they even made it to having an actual conversation! Sure, it was a little stilted, SY could not figure out for the life of him why the great Lord Luo was interacting with a random servant, but one day it all finally clicked to him. Binghe had been in the middle of ‘musing’ about hair oils(??), when SY couldn’t help but interrupt him:

“Ah…. Apologies if this lowly servant is overstepping, My Lord, but does My Lord just want someone to talk to?”

A few emotions flashed through Binghe's face quickly enough for SY to not be able to decifer any of them, but eventually landing on a sheepish smile. "This Lord has been found out."

Oh, how cute! And how sad! SY had noticed when SQH was just showing him his shitty story how sad that LBH, even after getting the world to bow at his feet, never really had friendships. Sure, he still had all the love he could want, but sometimes people need friends to talk to, not lovers!

While he knew that he shouldn't interact with characters in world overlooked by the System unless they were transmigrators, SY couldn't help but feel that the situation was dire enough that LBH would turn to a no-name servant in this time of desperation. And it would be a great opportunity to study Xin Mo more closely as well! If SY showed LBH the wonders of friendship, maybe he could pass by his supervisor that he only had to do what was necessary for this world to not implode on itself.

Besides, who could even say no to such a handsome man such as LBH? Is as the old saying goes: what the protagonist wants, he shall have.

*

SY's friendship plan has been going great! After figuring out Binghe's intentions, it seems all of the protagonists reservations flew out the window, and SY was now responsible for being Binghe's personal retainer. Not that that meant too much, since Binghe liked to bend the rules to his liking, and some tasks that should be SY's responsability sometimes were pushed to another servant or Binghe himself made them (which, ???)

Mostly, SY stood at Binghe's side, served tea, was used so Binghe could bounce ideas off of someone, and tended to finer details. All of that very much manageable, if not for the weird mood swings LBH would have sometimes. Yuan, as he has told Binghe was his name after being too scared of the repercutions of using 'Shen', was to accompany him all the time, but sometimes not all the time, or else LBH would get moody; Yuan was to listen to LBH's ideas and plans, and should always comment back or else Binghe would feel neglected, but not too much or else, as LBH had put it, could 'bring back bad memories'; Yuan was to tend to LBH's night routine, even as far as to brush his hair, and if he refused LBH (again) get all moody, but he couldn't brush too much, and he had to do at least one braid but NEVER touch the old, frizzy braid that still had that damn tassle-

Honestly, it was a careful game of balance, which reminded SY more often than not of a child that got mad when their older sibling didn't quite understand the redundant rules they made for a make-believe. Any other person would get fed up, and probably scared of Binghe's constant mood swings, but SY had him all figured out, and his resilience proved to be useful time and time again, since most of the time after his sour mood passed, Binghe would come crawling back with the most pitiful face ever, and what was SY to do? As LBH's friend, it was his duty to hug him and pat his head! (And no one could judge him for that, since if he didn't pat Binghe's head, his mood would plummet all over again.)

Though... SY did feel kind of bad. He wouldn't be able to stay with Binghe forever, and would even need to potentially steal his all-powerful sword for a little bit so everything wouldn't get corrupted. Honestly, the only thing keeping SY from worrying about being labled as a traitor and potentially getting killed was that he would just go back to the System's office and go on with his life.

*

LBH, eventually, caught onto SY's plan on leaving - really, it was only a matter of time. After that fateful encounter with that other SQQ, LBH had found himself in rather pitiful state, questioning everything he knew until that moment and wondering why he couldn't achieve that happiness, and desperately trying to search for a SQQ of his own. He had contemplated going back to that first world, but what would it even matter? Even if he took SQQ by force, his heart would still be with that other LBH, and Binghe couldn't bear the thought that he wouldn't be everything in SQQ's world, as he had become for LBH.

Specially after Meng Mo had one day interupted his carefully crafted dream of an idelic world and pointed out some curious memories he'd almost forgotten about. That day, when back in his childhood, when he'd been beaten up by a buch of older kids and hallucinated a man in strange clothes before passing out and waking up protected from the rain. Or when he thought he'd lost his jade pendant forever, only to magically appear in the cabin later.

Or the strange man in the Immortal Alliance Conference.

After SQQ- SJ , that good-for-nothing scum- pushed him to the Abyss, he tried his best to never think about that day again, too scared by how weak he'd been, pleading to man that would sell his soul for one more night at that brothel of his if he could, but now... Now that he could mold his dreamscape any way he wanted, he could look back with a clear mind, which eventually led to the conclusion: It must have been the same person. The same strangely dressed man that helped him in his childhood somehow appeared at the Immortal Alliance again, and even had left provisions right next to where Binghe had fallen.

He'd convinced himself, after many, many years of wishing for a miracle, that he's simply imagined the man, one last thread to keep himself from going insane, but after meeting the other SQQ...

And then Yuan came in. A new servant that seemingly appeared out of nowhere.

It took some observation, and a lot preparing himself to face dissapointment that maybe he was just projecting, putting the image of someone else onto a random man, but that day, when LBH was wondering if he was just wasting time, that that beautiful dream of having his version of SQQ would not happen any time in this world, that maybe he really should just go look at other worlds; after all, if it happened once, it had to happen again, right? Not that it mattered in the end, since while he spireled, much to Xin Mo's pleasure, an umbrella was put over his head, and all his doubts had washed away.

Yuan had to be his version of SQQ, it had to be. And after all his effort of getting close to him, after going so far to keep Yuan at his side, even if he still battled with that his perception of SJ and the other SQQ sometimes overlapping with Yuan's image, even if he still wasn't ready to let go of that one braid, he was becoming more and more sure in his assumption that his SQQ had come to him. Everything was going as planned, and LBH was in track to finally begin to properly court him, and yet-

He was sure Yuan wanted to leave. He wasn't sure why, not how he would do that, maybe just dissapear like he had all those years ago and either only appear again 5, 10, 100 years in the future or go back to wherever he came from in the first place. But LBH knew Yuan wanted to leave, that he needed to complete whatever mission he had (after LBH managed to pry that out of his dreams, which where another source of confusion, with how absurdly difficult they were to even get a grasp of), and that, under any circumstances, he could let Yuan escape his sight.

Not again. Never again.

Binghe had become even stickier in the last few weeks. Not that SY minded, it was very cute to see such a different side from the cool, badass Lord Luo, but SY was running out of time. Since Binghe became stickier, his mood swings had worsened even more, now not wanting SY to be anywhere that Binghe wasn't, and Xin Mo seemed to be thriving off of whatever was making Binghe extra protective, though it was becoming a genuine problem now, since Binghe suddenly refused to see any of his wive's to deal with the Xin Mo problem, and he seemed to be on the verge of qi deviation at all times.

In fact, the only reason Binghe hadn't already qi deviated was because SY was abusing his Personal System and chipping away at the qi deviation in Binghe's night routine, since it was the only time where he was physically very close to Binghe and could spend long periods of time manually coding away at the System screen without it looking suspicious.

But, as if that wasn't enough of a problem, since Xin Mo was having the time of it's life recently, the virus clinging to the sword was also getting stronger, leaving even more residuals all along the castle and bordering on infecting Binghe himself.

His Scissors where thankfully, repaired, and his sweet, sweet manager was even kind enough to send him some extra energy supplies, but at the rate the virus was spreading, he was worrying that he would have to deal with the source as soon as possible or else it would become to strong to deal with it in a non-destructive way.

He... Didn't want to leave Binghe just yet, specially since he wanted SY's attention more than ever recently, but...

No, he needed to do this; their time together was never supposed to be eternal anyways, and if he let the virus spread, he would only be putting LBH's life in danger, and he couldn't continue living with himself after that. He decided he would fix the virus at night, while Binghe slept, and by the next morning he would be gone - he would have, after all, just enough energy to go back to the office.

He just hoped Binghe would be able to forgive him later.

When night came, and SY got to doing the usual night preparations, it just felt like an extra needle being stabbed in his heart when, while brushing Binghe's hair, Binghe looks back uncharacteristicly anxious, and asks if SY can undo the braid and remake it. SY does, and if Binghe notices SY takes extra long to pamper him that night, he says nothing.

When SY is sure Binghe is asleep, he sneaks out of his room and heads to back to Binghe's. Yeah, maybe he stalls a bit with snipping off every piece of the residual virus he came across, but one could argue he was just being extra thorough with his job.

The excuse, unfortunately, didn't last long and eventually he found himself in front of Binghe's room, staring at the door as if he was about to be sentenced to death. After a few minutes of reminding himself that he needed to do this, he took a deep breath and slowly opened the doors. Binghe usually slept with the sword perched right beside his bed, so SY would probably have to use the System and put Binghe in an extra deep sleep if he wanted to make sure the other didn't wake-

The moment he places a foot inside, though, he realizes something is wrong; the room is empty, Binghe is not asleep in his bed and Xin Mo is not besides the bed. Oh, oh no, had Binghe-

"A-Yuan." Binghe says, and SY nearly jumps as he turns around. There LBH stands in the middle of the hallway, not even in his sleeping robes, with a hand clutched tightly on Xin Mo's handle. His eyes are watery but no tears spill.

SY tries to speak but finds he doesn't even know what to say, he can't even try to deny that he's up to something, since his gigantic Scissors are just out an about. Still, he tries to make Binghe understand, say that he needs to do this, and after this Binghe won't have to worry about anything anymore. Though it barely seems like Binghe is listening, and eventually just cuts in when SY starts to say anything in his panic.

"This is what A-Yuan wants, right?" He asks, extending one arm and presenting the glitched out Xin Mo. SY doesn't even have the chance to find an excuse, as Binghe immediately continues. "Than take it."

"Wh- Huh?" "Take it."

He's so shocked he almost drops his Scissors. What does he mean 'take it'??? Binghe has to know everything that's at stake here! He doesn't even know what SY wants to do with it! He tries to say that, how Binghe shouldn't just hand the sword to anyone like that, but a sudden burst of energy set his priorities straight. Shit- The virus! It's growing by the second, at this point SY will have to cut Xin Mo-

"...Binghe, I-" "I don't care what A-Yuan wants with Xin Mo! Take it, use it, break it if you want, I don't care! But if A-Yuan takes it, than he will have to stay." "Binghe, that's not..." "Why not?! That's your goal, right? Do whatever it is that you want to do with Xin Mo? Than here you go, A-Yuan can do it, but I won't let you leave me again."

SY can't even mask when his eyes dart towards the tassle on Binghe's new braid. Binghe just clenched his jaw, but it feels like confirmation enough.

He adjusts his grip on the Scissors, and, as he has nothing else to hide, dispels the System's illusion, his simple clothes glitching out to reveal the System's uniform. Binghe's eyes fill even more with tears, but none fall."

"I... I'll have to go back, Binghe." "No." "Binghe, listen to me, I-" "No. No! A-Yuan will get Xin Mo, and then he will stay." "I-" "You will stay! I can't-" Binghe can't even finish his sentence before he has to choke out a sob.

The virus starts warping the air around it, and slowly crawling up Binghe's arm. SY's decision has practically been made for him. He lifts the Scissors. Binghe pushes Xin Mo forward.

"...I'll come back." "A-Yuan-" "I'll come back, Binghe." One single tear falls and his arm jerks, not knowing if he trusts SY's words or not. He still his arm as the Scissor blades encircle Xin Mo.

"A-Yuan..." "I'll come back, I promise." "..." "I promise."

"......Okay."

Shen Yuan cuts Xin Mo.

[sheepispink]

Sweet Like Sugar ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི pairings: simon riley x (afab) reader

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Summary: Trying to advertise your bakery is particularly difficult, especially when no one seems to want to try anything new lately, still stuck in their old ways. Thankfully, a particularly masked man is also particularly fond of the tea you make along side your signature pastries.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི WC: 2.5k

(will have more chapters!)

You’ve grown up in Wales nearly your entire life, living not too far from a fresh farm and yet so close to a little town you call home. The weather is typical for Britain, always a little dreary though sometimes the sun would shine so bright the grass on these hills looked like those in the movies. You’d run up those hills as a child, laughing as the sheep would make noises after your every whim.

Today was particularly dreary though; the sun struggled to peek through even with the large gaps between each cloud, only leaving behind a desolate grey on the town. It was your turn to take over the shop for the day, seeing as your parents were out of town on business details. A few named your shop to be ‘the littlest around’, since it wasn't exactly the biggest area nor did many know of it. After all, it had only opened recently after the last owner left their business to rot out. It took practically months to renovate the dusty walls of this shop even more so that your family were on a tight budget. However your parents believed in it and so did you.. or you thought you did anyway. Maybe you had watched too many movies as a kid because this business was definitely not booming, infact you had spent the majority of the past week trying to advertise the best you possibly could.

Either way, it was bound to be quiet today so you decide you may as well use it as a testing day. The menu was finalised already however you were eager about one thing to add, a selection of freshly brewed teas. It wasn't the most viable since it required a lot of customers at the same time in order to taste the actual freshness— otherwise it’d just go cold and icky. Placing the portable burner down— something you picked up since most days used to be spent in a caravan— you place a pot atop and light the flame. You had not travelled very far, but due to your grandparent who was particularly interested in plenty of cultures, you picked up a few handy recipes for delicious teas.

Unfortunately, you didnt have much on you today after using your last stock on the small opening party. So, you’d have to make do with what you had. You hum as you boil the water in the pan, before slowly adding the milk and some spices— cardamon and cinammon to be exact. It’d make a rich flavour which was perfect with the right amount of sugar, and so, you let it brew as you hummed, debating whether you were allowed to play your favourite tunes here or not.

Seeing as no one had showed up in a while, you plug your phone into the speaker system, letting a soft song play throughout the little patisserie as you grin and nod your head along. What you hadnt expected was the bell above the door to jingle, heavy boots dragging against the wooden floor as they grow louder. You snap your head up, looking a little startled before you quickly stand infront of the counter again, putting on your best sheepish smile.

“Welcome! What can i get for you today?”

The strange man wears a balaclava over his face, his eyes showing and a few tufts of blonde peeking out the back as he bends a little to look over all of the pastries available. Eventually he stops, pointing at one the sausage rolls, before his gruff voice finally breaks his silence. “Two o’ these.”

You nod quickly, grabbing a paper bag before carefully placing the two pastries inside and sealing the bag.

“Actually, since it’s a weekday, all the pastries come with a dessert or drink. Is there any one you would like?”

You tilt your head, as you place the bag on the counter, already tapping in the current bill. He pauses and glances over at the sweeter desserts, but even you could tell just from his appearance that he doesnt seem to be too fond of them. Instead, his height allows him to easily peek over the counter and he can instantly smell the pot of rich cardamom tea brewing. “Is that for sale?” He raises an eyebrow at you, and you can only tell from how the mask lifts a little. You pause, wondering if you really should be giving them out to customers just yet.

“It’s a taster really.. would you like to try?” He lets out a grunt in agreement and you walk back over, ladeling a creamy cup of the tea for him before stepping over to him once more.He taps his card down for the items he bought, taking the steaminf cup in his hand but he doesnt intend to drink it and reveal his face— clear from the way he glances around the shop. “Is it always this quiet or are you about to close?” He raises a brow, wondering if he had just accidentally forced you to stay open longer than you should. Your hands wave in front of you frantically as you shake your head. “No! No— um, it’s been a little hard to promote business recently. We only opened last month..” Today you decide not to mention that last weeks rain had nearly drowned the entire shop floor, instead just giving him another sheepish look. “I’m trying to look for any opportunities we can to show off our bakes. I’ve been looking at fairs recently.” You hum and he nods, before lifting his mask without a second thought and sipping down the hot tea you made him. “You should promote this aswell, i can see this tasting good with a dessert.” He offers his advice and you nod readily, smiling at him since he just indirectly said that the tea was good. “Well, i’ll make sure to have lots more flavours too!

A month later and unsurprisingly your family’s little shop isnt any more popular than the last time you took charge of it. That strange man appeared a few times afterwards but you hadnt seen him, busy with your own part time job to try and bring some extra income in. Today you were finally back though, the peak of winter hitting like a shock but it didnt stop the excitement brimming through the town.

At the start of December each year, the town would host a market in the main plaza, which was particularly big for the town’s size. There was everything from crafts and fresh fruit, flowers and trinkets to the toastiest hot chocolate and clothing. This year you were determined to make your mark, selling sweet pastries and the spiced at the same time. He did say it’d draw in at least a bit of attention, so right? Well, you sure hoped so because you were using a portion of your personal savings to try again with the tea. You’d never know if you didn't try, and in the worst case scenario you could give it for free to the other vendors as a sign of good sportsmanship— maybe you could even trade! You grin eagerly as you set up the stand, glass covers above all your decorated pastries, sweet and savoury waiting to be bitten into. Perhaps you went a little overboard with the baking but this was a big event—even neighbouring towns travelled here!

The fair kickstarts around five thirty, the time when most get off work and so many are already flocking to find something for their hungry stomach. You practically bubble with excitement when you get your first three orders, only to turn and see the hot burrito stall’s queue which looks like it’d shadow your stall next. With a small frown, your demeanour drops as the orders only get rarer, a few commenting on not being sure to try something so exotic. About tea. Literal chai. Customer service was not for the weak clearly, since you had to restrain yourself from lunging over the table right then and there, giving the lady a forced smile before she walked off. You let your head rest in your hands, groaning a little too loudly, but it wasnt like anyone was even close enough to your stall to hear anyway. The only thought that consumed you was frustration; you knew damn well that all the bakes here were delicious, that the recipes were to die for and the tea was an absolute soother for any cold or strain. Though, no matter how hard you tried no one seemed to want to hear you out.

“Are you taking a break?”

A voice rings out, gruff, a little muffled and stern but most of all— familiar. Finally your eyes snap up, meeting the gaze of that stranger from before, well now he looked entirely different. “You… from before.. you’re a soldier?!” You have to forcefully lower your voice before you cause his ears to bleed through his balaclava. He was decked out in full tactical gear, apart from the weapons of course and the helmet held in the crook of his elbow. Though not just him, an entire team of soldiers aswell who surrounded your stall, practically brimming with excitement at the tasty baked goods they’d finally try.

“Finished a day long training in the cold. Thought i’d bring ‘em to your stall for a break. You dont look good yourself though” He bluntly states the last part out, already suspecting that you’d sigh next. “Orders are still slow...” You murmur, and he nods, as if he’d expected that. Before either of you can speak, one of his soldiers perks up, “Miss, how much would it be for two of these pie slices and one of your sausage rolls?”

Your lips part in surprise and you hurry to the till, typing in the amounts before announcing the price to him. The reasonable cost of your goods and the great quality is enough to catch the attention of his teammates, and soon enough you have them lined up waiting to buy their share too.

You cough to get his attention the queue finally draws to a blank and he slowly approaches as you gesture to the pots of tea steaming beside you. The soldiers had taken the majority of your stock, even asking for refills but one large cup was saved for him. “On the house, for a regular.” You say cheekily and he nods, the sides of his mask creasing up into what you think could possibly be a smile. “So, how did you even convince your boss to let you bring your whole team here anyway? I always thought those ‘sergeant’ people were like.. really strict.” He chuckles at you, deep and gruff and for a second you’re confused, tilting your head at him. “Hey— what’s so funny? I’m being serious!” He finally stops, his eyes crinkled slightly as he looks back at you. “I’m their Lieutenant.” ” He says still with that monotone voice and your jaw practically drops, cheeks flushing in embarrassment as you groan loudly. “I’m very sorry..”

Now sitting upon the benches, they chatter amongst themselves whilst others eye the other trinkets available, looking for something for the loved ones back home. The man with the skull mask still stands nearby though watching you fill up a cup full of the tea before handing it to a customer.

“Do you take large orders too?” He finally pipes up, glancing over at you with that filled cup still in his hand. “Well.. we don't have any official set up..” Being his acquaintance was a severe exaggeration, and yet you couldn't stand to disappoint him right now. Especially seeing as much as he’s done so far,perhaps not intentionally, but what intrigues you even more is that his soldiers seemed to be over the moon about your pastries. You hadn't really thought about the fact soldiers are probably dying for the taste of a good home cooked pastry, especially in the winter months, and now it seems like this could really boost your business.

“But..I could just give you my number?” Putting that forward seems a bit odd, but in truth you were being completely innocent about it even if he seems to believe otherwise, smirking beneath the mask before he nods. He takes his phone out of his pocket, unlocking it and hands it over to you before gesturing to you to do the same. When you receive your phone back, you see the new contact, ‘Lieutenant Ghost (sausage roll)’ and snicker a little, you’re pretty sure you can remember him without the assistance but it’s amusing anyway. “I’ll text you later regarding any big orders we want to make.”

He gives you another nod and you quickly agree with his words, grateful for the opportunity he’s provided you with.

“Thanks for bringing all your soldiers here.. i dont think we would’ve garnered this much attention otherwise.” People had already noticed the brand on the soldiers' cups and bags, making their way to the stall and eyeing some of the goods left from their rampage. He only shrugs, ignoring the fact he had any part in this. “By the way..” You hum, glancing at the untouched tea in his hand curiously. “Why haven't you drank any yet— it’ll grow cold soon.” He leans against your table slightly before he just nods firmly again, looking back at the crowds. “Dont like to show my face.” That makes you blink, confused since he had easily shown you in the shop a month ago when he tried it for the first time. “But—“

Before you can answer, his phone buzzes and he glances down before beckoning his group over. “Oi, all of you. We’re leavin’ in ten— do not make us late.” Suddenly you dont feel at all bad for calling him strict earlier, even snickering a little at how stern his voice had suddenly gotten even if he’s usually monotone to you too. The soldiers eyes grow wide and they quickly jump to buy the rest of their things making you snicker.

“Guess that’s the last I'll see of you, ‘Lieutenant’. See you soon.” You grin, waving as he throws the now empty cup in the trash— when did he drink that? He lifts a hand to give a short wave at you too before stepping away to join the rest of his men. “Dont worry, you will.”

That night you’re left dumbfounded as you stare at your phone, the text lighting your eyes up in the darkness of your room. ‘Tomorrow night is the second day of the fair, right?’ The first part reads, and you mentally nod, remembering how your parents said you’d take the first day and they’d handle the second. When you responded with a yes, but also clarifying your stall is also available, he wrote back one more text. ‘Good. I’ll be taking you around with me this time.”

[fluoneia]

further continuation of pitfighter!vi | part 1 | part 2

sypnosis. vi left an impression on you more then you thought she did. but, you left even more of an impression on her. and you can’t control a feeling like that, can you?

warnings. dom!vi, lowkey hate sex, use of a strap on, lots o angst !! (in the beginning), uhh i tweaked the timeline a lot so this doesn’t exactly follow everything going on. bear w me!

damn.

you were surprised vi stayed true to her word. it was two months since she initially left. you tried to move on with your life, forget her, and try to remember that she was with that someone that she mentioned.

if she stayed, that means she’s happy. right?

right?

stupid feelings. truth was, you wanted her to come back. she wasn’t just any other client to you at this point.

god, how did you get yourself into this mess? you vowed to not get involved with a client. yet, here you were.

“you seem distracted.” your friend, and co-worker says while she combs through your hair. you’d gotten close to her over the past two months, her being your only viable source of comfort in the moment.

you frown as you look into the mirror.

“it’s nothing.” you shake your hand, glancing down to your hands.

“are you sure?” asta cocked a brow as she placed the comb down. “come on. you’re acting so weird lately.”

you run your thumb over the indents of your palm, following your fingers.

“well..” you start, “i.. there was a client. around two months ago. she was..” you snort, “different, that’s for sure.”

“.. okay..” asta looks into space as she thought.

“she told me she wasn’t coming back— that she couldn’t. her heart was taken by this enforcer girl. said she couldn’t give her up.”

asta is quiet for a second. you turn to look at her. “.. so, what i’m getting from this, is you’re getting your heart involved in a client you took twice.”

“what?” your back straightens. “no! no, my heart isn’t involved, i’m just.. curious. that’s all.”

“uh-huh, okay.” asta snorts with a roll of her eye. “who is this, anyway?”

“oh, uh.. her name is vi.”

asta’s eyes widen so far her eyebrows shoot up. “the fucking vi? as in the vi everyone here hates?”

“i guess so.” you frown.

“hah! no way you’re falling for that little sadistic fuck.”

“asta!” i cry.

“i mean, seriously, y/n! she’s no good, especially for you.”

“i’m a whore in the undercity. i’m not exactly amazing.”

“still, though. i can’t believe you wound up having to take her as a client twice, i mean, are you alright after that?”

you glare. then, you smile at the memory. “actually..” you feel a blush creep on your cheeks. “you’d be surprised. it’s not just her that got to take control.”

“you.. vi? being submissive? oh, you’re crazy.”

“crazy good.” you snort, pushing off your chair. “besides, i’m not falling for her.”

“yeah. sure you aren’t.”

“i mean, i can’t, anyways. i’ve already made that mistake before and i’m not about to make it again. my heart is never being involved with my clients ever again.”

asta takes a second to respond. then, she says, “you know, sometimes it isn’t all that bad.” she shrugs. “i met my husband through this business.”

“it does more harm then good. plus, aren’t you two having problems because of the job that you met in?”

“well.. kind of. but still.” she places a hand on my shoulder, “not everything in your life has to be dictated because of what you do as a job to survive. it’s rare you feel a connection with your clients, right? especially you.”

“i don’t have a connection with her.”

“you keep telling yourself that.” asta chuckles, “that’s what i said about my husband before he started courting me.”

“whatever!” i cry, pushing her hand off me. “i have a client.”

“don’t go imaging it’s vi!”

“ugh, shut up asta!”

a week later, you’d made up your mind. obviously, vi wasn’t going to come back. it’d be best for you to just move on.

your hands tighten around eachother.

so damn stupid. you were so damn stupid. your feelings were so damn stupid— she went to you out of convenience, nothing more.

she was under the influence, on a sex drug nonetheless. you went too far with her. you never should have given in to her pleads in the first place.

“come on, slow-poke.”

you still.

“slow-poke is a bit cocky for you to say. i recall you saying i was moving too fast, when i tried to—“

“okay, are we seriously talking about that right now?”

you’d recognize that voice anywhere. it was haunting your thoughts for the past two months.

and you don’t dare lift your head. you feel your breath pick up as you glance forward.

your breath catches in your throat as your eyes land on her. on vi. what the hell was she doing here?

without another thought, you flick your hood over your head. your body curls in on yourself, staring at your feet as you walk forward, moving past her.

“you used to be all over me,” a posh, matter-of-fact voice says. “now, you can barely even look at me.”

“we’re on a mission, caitlyn. we’re not talking about our relationship right now.”

her voice becomes louder as you grow near.

“when will we?”

“soon! just.. just not now.” vi grumbled.

you try to ignore the warmth in your skin as you knock shoulders with her as you pass.

“hey! watch where you’re going—“

vi stops herself as you glance over your shoulder.

you watch as her eyes flicker, the redness seeping into her skin as she flushed.

“wha.. y/n?” she says in almost a whisper.

your eyes glide toward the girl beside her. a pretty woman, with sharp features and rich, navy hair, tied into a ponytail. she held herself so well.

no wonder vi was so enveloped in her.

vi feels like her heart is about to burst out of her chest. she glances toward caitlyn, who gives you a weird look as you stare at her.

what. the. fuck.

that’s all vi can think.

her eyes flicker between you and caitlyn.

vi watched as you slip the hood off your head. you bring your head up with an inhale, forcing a strong front.

“.. hey, vi. funny seeing you here.” you say in that soft tone that’s been haunting her thoughts and her dreams for months since you’ve been apart.

“you know this girl?” caitlyn says as she stares at you. you glance toward caitlyn, brows furrowing. she stared at you like you were filth— and you probably were, body being tainted by the hundreds of hands that have touched the most vulnerable of all— your body.

vi swallows. “yea.. yes, um—“ she closes her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. “old friend.”

old friend? really?

you glare at her.

“can i, um.. can i have a second to talk to her? alone?”

vi’s hand rests on caitlyns shoulder. her skin looked so soft— so clean.

you try to ignore the flame of jealousy in your chest as caitlyn’s hand rests atop of vi’s, before nodding her head once.

“don’t take long.” caitlyn lets her hands drop to her sides. vi gives a small nod, shoulders relaxing as caitlyn steps back, moving out of earshot.

and then she turns to you.

“i thought you said you were never coming back.” you frown as your arms cross on your chest.

“this isn’t me coming back.” vi says curtly. “we’re on a mission.”

“a mission? are you some sort of enforcer now?”

vi says nothing.

you freeze.

“you.. you’re an enforcer.”

“temporarily.” vi raises a hand, “it’s not anything to do with—“

“just go.” you spit. “an enforcer from zaun. it’s not an honour to be labelled that, violet. you’re a pawn in whatever plan they’ve conjured up.”

“it’s a plan to help zaun.” vi says in a whisper as she glances at someone passing. she winced. “can we talk about this elsewhere? preferably not in an open alleyway?”

your eyes shift to the caitlyn girl she treasures so much. she’s staring at the two of you.

“or we could just not talk.” you push off the wall you’d been resting on, “continue on with your mission. you have no use of me, by the looks of it.”

“actually, i do. someone we’re looking for passed through babettes brothel, and we need a—“

“i’m not helping you with this.” you shake your head. “find another worker there to interrogate.”

“y/n.” vi says firmly.

“stop saying my name like that.” you narrow your eyes. “just because you were my client doesn’t entitle me to help you with your stupid investigation. you were a client to many there— ask them.”

“i was more then just a client and you know it.”

her face tightens with anger.

“not really,” you tut your tongue, “you paid, and i gave. nothing more.”

“you can’t be serious.” her hand finds your arm, and she leans closer, glancing around. “you took my virginity. that’s not nothing.”

“you were hardly a virgin when we first met.”

“yeah, not in.. that sense, i wasn’t.”

you hated that she was right. virginity was a prized thing for most people— hell, you used to hold principles like saving your virginity for marriage. and now, look where you were.

but, much like other people, you never forgot your first. a boy from piltover— you were young and naive, much like violet.

“i should have never done that.” you shake your head, “that was too far of me.”

vi’s eyes soften. she glances back at caitlyn, before looking to you. she steers you away, moving out of eyeshot.

“it’s not that i.. regret it. if that makes any difference.”

you huff.

“you said you weren’t coming back. yet, here you are.” you gesture.

“for a different reason.” she tightens her grip on my arm, “come on. help me with this investigation and i’ll leave you alone. for good.”

but that isn’t what you wanted. you didn’t want her to leave— you didn’t want her to be her right now, with her new prized girlfriend, but she was still here. you hated how your heart jumped with glee at that fact.

you inhale a deep breath, clenching your jaw.

“fine. i’ll help you.”

vi exhaled in relief. “thank you.” she whispers. her hand loosens on your shoulder, before slowly slipping off, her fingers trailing over your skin.

“what’s the big deal, anyways?” you furrow my brows.

“cait will tell you everything.” she cocks her head behind her. you nod your head, and follow her as you walk back to caitlyn. it hit you that she was tall, and it made her even more menacing— towering over you with a mean look on her face. you couldn’t tell if that was just her face, or she just didn’t like you. probably both.

“so she’ll help, then?” caitlyn says, turning to vi.

vi nods. “yeah.”

“i can’t promise i’ll actually be of help to you.” you cross my arms on your chest. “just because i agreed to tell you what i know doesn’t mean it’ll be any use.”

“worth a shot, right?” vi shrugs. i give her a brief nod.

“we can’t talk about this here.” caitlyn says.

you sigh. “we can go back to my house. it’s just ‘round the block. but again— i only have an hour.”

they give a nod of agreement. you inhale a deep breath, before paving a way back toward your house.

suddenly, you felt unconscious about your living space. you hadn’t cleaned it, and there was no doubt clothes left on the floor, leaving it a mess. you mentally curse yourself as you unlock the door, pushing it open.

“make yourselves comfortable.” you mumble, kicking some clothes out the way.

vi doesn’t take another glance at the house as she walks inside, following behind you. caitlyn hesitates, looking around the messy room, before following suit.

i grab a glass of water, jumping up onto my counter.

“alright. so, what did you need me for, exactly?” i look to caitlyn.

caitlyn slowly turns her head toward you. “oh— yes, um..” she clears her throat, obviously distracted. “a few days ago, someone passed through the brothel you work at.”

she fumbles through her bag. your eyes glance toward vi, who leans against the counter parallel to you, crossing her arms on her chest. the blue outfit just looked so.. off on her, yet, she still held herself the same.

she didn’t seem that bothered by the mess— partly because she’s seen it before, and partly because she’d already been in your house, in your bed—

stop it.

caitlyn places a sheet of paper on the island. i pick it up.

“have you seen this girl?”

your eyes move around the paper. you had seen this girl before— quite an oddball, but she was funny. blue hair, tied into long braids. your eyes train on the JINX — PILTOVER, WANTED.

“uh.. yeah.” you nod. you’d never expect her to be a wanted criminal, but who wasn’t down in the lanes?

“how? where did you see her last?” caitlyn says. there’s a gleam in her eyes as she leans closer.

“well.. maybe two or three days ago she came around the brothel during my shift. she was a client.”

vi pushes off the table abruptly. “you took my sister as a client?!” she stalks toward you.

“well, yeah.” you shrug. your eyes widen as you realize. “we.. no, she didn’t want anything.” uou chuckle at the memory, “she just wanted to talk.”

vi seems to calm down, her shoulders slouching. you give her a brief look, before turning to caitlyn.

“she.. i don’t know why she came to a brothel to just have a chat, but she isn’t the first one to do that. it’s honestly not that weird for clients to just want to talk like normal people when they have no one else.”

“i didn’t give it that much thought. i don’t remember much about her.”

you glare at vi. “not that it’d be any of your business what happens with my clients.”

vi puffs a breath of air through her nose, ripping her gaze away from you. she didn’t understand why she was so.. so jealous, so riled up over the memory that you still worked at the brothel, that you still took clients, that other people were touching you.

she had no right to be possessive, yet, here she was.

“.. anyway.” caitlyn clears her throat, brows furrowing as she senses the tension between you and vi, “what can you tell me about her? did she say anything about where she was going?”

you shake your head. “we talked for the hour she paid for, then she left. that was it. i didn’t see where she went.”

caitlyn sighs in frustration. vi looks to her, “this was a big waste of time.”

“it was the only lead we had.” caitlyn pushes off the wall. “if we ask some of the other workers, they’ll probably have seen the direction she went.”

“at this point we’ll miss the last departure. it’s too long of a walk back to piltover if we want to be safe.”

“we can’t leave while the trail is hot! if we wait another day, it’s just another night wasted.”

you h ump off the counter. “just stay here.” you place your glass in the sink, “i have a guest bedroom.”

that was a horrible idea.

it was like your mouth was on autopilot as you say this— stuck on the fact that if vi left now, you’d never see her again. it was stupid if you to offer, yet, you couldn’t stop yourself from doing it.

caitlyn glances toward you. then to vi. she raises her eyebrows as if to say, “well?”

oh, and vi was even more stuck. seeing you again drove her crazy— much less sleeping in the same house again. no doubt it’d grab at her head, keeping her awake at the last memory in this very house.

her chest puffed as she tried to regulate her breath. she wasn’t sure if she could handle herself in such close proximity to you again. it’d surely drive her mad.

but, she too was stuck on the fact that this might be the last time she saw you.

so, vi nods. “sure.” she chokes. her voice is tight as she avoids her eyes, glancing down at her feet.

you huff at the memory of your shift.

“the guest bedroom is just down the hall. make yourselves comfortable.” you move past them, shoulder grazing with vi’s— on purpose, on accident, you couldn’t tell. “i’ll be back soon.”

you still as you see caitlyn move out of the kitchen, glancing around. once she was out of earshot, you back up a few steps.

“oh, and, vi?” you lean closer to her, moving to her ear. “try to control yourself. i can sense your tension from a mile away.” you rest your hand on vi’s shoulder. “if you want me to take care of that.. another time, yeah?”

you pull away without another word, giggling under your breath. you pat vi’s shoulder as you slip away, grabbing your coat and bringing it around your shoulders.

and as you close the door, you leave vi’s head in utter shambles again.

she stands in the same spot, mind processing your words.

try to control herself? after you’ve just said that, and you’re looking like the most beautiful women she’s laid her eyes on?

fat chance.

she’ll get you eventually.

you were released early from your shift, as the night was slow. you kind of dreaded getting back to your apartment, knowing both vi and caitlyn were there.

you wanted to help them. honestly. but you werent sure what would.

your mind recalled the memory of that jinx girl.

you remembered you tried to advance on her— assuming that’s what she wanted, like many other clients. but she stopped you.

she surely wasn’t well. rambling on about life and death, about family, and about how no one can be trusted, and all that.

and after that, she disappeared as soon as she payed. you turned to say goodbye, but she was already gone.

you huff as you open your apartment door, slipping your coat off your shoulders. you hear laughing from your living room, and walk toward it.

as you turn the corner, you see caitlyn and vi laughing together.

“vi, i’m serious!”

you linger in the background as you watch them.

“i mean, the look on my fathers face. he couldn’t believe it at first.”

“well, you won’t be able to get rid of me, anyway.”

your face tightens as you watch her place her head on caitlyns shoulder. she spins a pen in her hand.

“i’m the dirt under your nails, cupcake.”

you decide to leave it alone there.

you step back, running a hand over your neck. so she was happy. you grimace as you walk down the hall, entering your bathroom.

“stupid.” you’d whisper to yourself.

here you thought you had vi wrapped around your finger. but really, you were wrapped around hers.

asta was right, anyway. she was no good for you, and you were no good for her. she was right in the fact that your heart was involved. it was involved tenfold.

you were stupid to ever think that you and vi had a chance.

you were a whore from the undercity. she’s an enforcer now.

nonetheless, she was still from the undercity. she was still a zaunite, just like you.

you strip yourself of your clothes. you step into your steaming shower, and let the water run over your body, your hair.

you close your eyes as you try to drown out your thoughts.

it wasn’t until midnight you left your bathroom.

the house was quiet. you deemed that they had gone to sleep, and move toward your room.

you throw on one of your favourite sets— a gift from a reoccurring piltover client from when you used to work there. you loved the silk texture, the white pearly fabric.

and since you hadn’t eaten much today, you move toward your kitchen.

you huff as you walk down the hallway, quiet against the hardwood floor. you grab your glass from the sink, turning on the tap.

“y/n.” a voice says behind you. you jump, spinning around.

“oh. it’s just you.” you sigh in relief as your eyes land on the familiar black of her hair. vi sauntered toward you, leaning against the counter.

“i.. i had a question.” vi whispers. her voice is laced with sleep— she had stayed up to talk to you. alone, finally.

you stare at your hands as you pour the water down the sink, picking up a bag of pretzels. “and what’s that?”

vi bit her tongue. then, she spoke. “what did you mean, before?”

you furrow your brows.

“when you said.. if you want me to take care of that.” vi shuffles. “you said, another time.”

you still. youd forgotten youd said that— mostly to test the waters around her.

“what did you think i meant?” you hum, placing a pretzel on your tongue. you lean your hip against the counter parallel to her.

vi says nothing.

“look— if you’re gonna act clueless, whatever.” you scoff. “but don’t rope me into something that’ll just cause a mess.”

you turn away from her.

as you move, your stopped by a hand on your wrist. she yanks you backward, your back landing harshly on her chest.

you gasp.

“i don’t really care if it causes a mess.”

you feel her breath on your shoulder. her hand smooths over your hip, pulling you against her.

“you’ve been messing with me ever since we bumped into eachother in that alleyway.”

you stare harshly at the wall in front of you. her thumb dips into the fabric of your shorts, resting it there.

“and you show up in these little shorts and expect me to contain myself?”

you feel her lips against your ear.

“what’s with the sudden switch up?” you say breathily, head leaning against her shoulder.

“you know what you’re doing.” violet scoffs against your ear. you feel your skin blaze alight as she presses her lips to your neck. you feel her tongue glide across your skin.

“violet.” you say harshly. you’re not sure how you feel about the sudden change in the air— vi wasn’t the girl she was last time she was here, no, she was how she was in the brothel the first night you met.

this girl really did give you whiplash.

“this is wrong.” you say, hand placing over the hand on your hip. despite your words, you lean into her touch. “aren’t you with caitlyn?”

vi stills for a second at caitlyn’s name. “one more night can’t hurt.”

“that’s what i thought the last time we met.” you hum, leaning into her touch. “one more night.”

vi spun you around, stalking forward, pushing you back until your back hit the counter. her arms caged around you, her eyes so dark, so unrecognizable.

all night, vi had been thinking about how you’re working your shift, having other people touch you. all night, she thought about you.

all she wanted right now was to distinguish herself from the others— to prove to you that unlike all the others, she cared. she cared for your pleasure, she cared for you, despite her mind screaming at her that she shouldn’t.

another wave of jealousy washes over her. she leans closer, hands gliding over your stomach, pushing up the silk shirt.

“you remember how you said to stop thinking so much around you?” vi says with a smirk, nose touching eachothers, her lips parted. you feel her breath on your skin, her hands on your stomach. they truly did feel warm, so calming, so right, unlike the others who have touched you there. you didn’t feel violated under vi’s touch, you felt.. comforted. it gave you a chance to actually feel the pleasure of another persons hand, rather then focusing on giving pleasure.

her hand splays against your back. her lips were so close to yours, merely one movement away. you wanted nothing more then to feel them again.

“that’s what i’m doing.” vi says, voice husky. “cmon.” she gives a toothy smile. “don’t leave me hanging here, cupcake.”

and it’s like everything changed.

your face closes to a deadpan. you push her off, slamming your fists on her chest.

“wha..” vi gives you a look of confusion.

“you’re so.. arrogant!” you lower your voice as you remember caitlyn is still there— the same caitlyn that vi had said that same nickname too a mere few hours ago. “and stupid!”

“what the hell are you talking about?” vi’s brows furrow.

“that nickname.” you spit. “you’d dare to call me that after using it on caitlyn?”

her mind recalls the memory.

i’m the dirt under your nails, cupcake.

her eyes widen. truth was, she was thinking about you when she said that. she said it because she’s your dirt underneath your nails. she came, and now she’s never going to leave, like a thorn in your side.

“really?” vi deadpans. “that’s what you’re worked up about?”

you purse your lips.

she lets out a chuckle that only fuels your anger. she takes a step toward you, before lowering her voice.

“i knew you were listening.” vi explained, “i was saying that to you.”

you still.

“though, this jealous side of you is kind of cute.”

“shut up.”

“just saying. now, can you stop throwing a fit? kind of holding myself back here.”

“ugh, shut up!” you cry before you grab her face, crashing your lips against hers. vi stilled for a second, taken aback, but she feels a rush of passion flow through her body.

her hands are on you in an instant— clawing, grabbing at your clothes so roughly. her lips are just as you remembered; soft. yet this time, they held a sense of dominance unlike the last time you kissed her.

she hummed against you. and you feel so much.. anger, hatred, jealousy, desire. vi was enjoying this way too much, and you hated that.

you feel her hands on your hips once more, her tongue gliding against your bottom lip, as if asking for permission. you give it by pushing your tongue past her lips, her own finding yours as they tangle and dance for a sense of dominance— to see which way will overtake.

but vi leaves no room for argument. her fingers dig into the skin on your thighs. you squeal as your brought from the floor, her hands holding you up as she picks you up.

your legs dangle loosely around her torso, hand smoothing into her hair, pulling, tugging, holding on so she’s forced to never leave.

you didn’t really know where you were going, but now, you were moving. her tongue glided through your mouth, running along your teeth, your tongue, your gums, everywhere, forcing herself through every part of your mouth until there was nothing left.

and oh, did you miss this feeling.

this feeling of passion, of lust, of desire. this feeling of recklessness. you both know you shouldn’t be doing this— but who can stop desire?

you realize she had guided you to your room when you feel your back hit the fur of your bedspread. she pressed herself between your legs, pulling away from you.

“fuck..” she whispered under her breath, hands smoothing up your stomach, cupping your barely clothed breasts.

“don’t talk.” you loose out, grabbing her face again and pulling her lips back onto yours. she takes that as an understanding, fingers unhooking every button oh so slowly.

you lift yourself off the bed to tear the shirt off your shoulders, throwing it to the side.

vi’s eyes flicker as she pulls away, looking at your body. her eyes land on your budding breasts. just so fucking beautiful. every bit and piece of you was perfect in violets eyes, and she hated how she felt that way.

“i missed you.” she whispers, both forgetting and ignoring your demand of silence. she pulls away, taking her jacket off of her shoulders. clothes fly in a haste, leaving you both naked in mere minutes— well, you naked. she kept her bandages on.

you can’t help the next thing you say. “missed me or missed my body?” you huff, sitting up on your elbows.

vi’s brows furrow. her nose twitches, before she crashed her lips back against yours without a word.

ah. got it. you’d think.

whatever. you shouldn’t have expected much with a hookup.

truth was, vi didn’t know. she didn’t know if her actions were based off purely lust, or something else. she tried not to think about it much— she couldn’t think much, anyways. you were just so soft, so beautiful.

her hands smooth over your body, and you were so drunk on her touch you decided not to care about anything else. her hands, touching you, possessing every part of you.

vi’s lips leave yours, trailing kisses down your jaw, onto your neck. you relish in the feel of her tongue, of her teeth scraping against your skin. her hands, smoothing over your thigh, toying with the strand of your panties. you feel your mouth go agape as her tongue glides over your neck, leaving red splotches, marking you.

you gasp as you feel her hands quiver over your clothed core, pressing so gently it made you whine. she was toying you, being so gentle when she knew you wanted her to be rough.

“don’t think i’ve forgotten.”

you couldn’t process her words— not when her fingers slipped underneath the cloth and dipped into your slick. your head throws back, a jolt of pleasure ripping all throughout your body. a shock to your nerves— finally, a touch that was pleasurable.

“oh, you’ve forgotten, haven’t you?”

your brows furrowed. what the hell was she talking about?

you let your mind fog again when her fingers dip inside of you, pressing so deep. you gasp, feeling your skin grow ablaze, the ache in your stomach only growing. you grasp onto the bedsheets, shocked at how fast this was moving— ten minutes ago, you were accepting the loss of whatever this relationship was. now you were thinking, what the fuck is wrong with me?

“you’re gonna feel everything i felt that night.”

she says this so close to your ear. you feel her breath on the shell of your ear, her teeth nipping at your skin.

“though, you won’t be under a drug like i was. i’ll just have to make up for that.”

her fingers press up as if to further move her point. you let your eyes close, body leaning toward her, hips pressing against her wrist.

“where do you keep those things, hm?”

“what the fuck are you talking about?” you huff, eyes slowly opening to look at her.

“you know,” she leaned closer. oh god, her eyes. that smirk. you were done for.

your brows furrow as you thought. her fingers slipped out of you, causing you to frown at the loss of her touch.

she ran a hand through her hair as she looked around, before reaching over you to open a drawer. your eyes catch on the glimpse of her bicep, a glimpse of the tattoo that ran down her back. gods, it only turned you on further.

“ah.” she says. you’d hear her fumble with something before moving back to you.

and your eyes shift to the thing in her hand.

one of the strap ons you owned— and never used, just by the sheer size of it. black, girthy, and big.

“nonono, violet—“you back away from her. she could not use that one, not now.

“oh, yes.”

there’s a certain gleam in her eyes as her hand grabs your hip, pulling you closer to you.

“told you.” she says as she leans back, fumbling with the straps. “i’m gonna get you back.”

you were in for it now.

for someone who’d never used a strap on before, you were pleasantly shocked.

you’d moan into your pillow as her hips slam against yours, over and over and over again. her hand smoothed over your back, pressing it down so your hips pushed up.

you’d never felt this.. this good, this full.

your entire body shook, every bone weak and practically useless. it took everything in you to hold yourself up, to not pull away from her, from her hips.

“oh—“ you groan, “vi!” you’d lost yourself, suddenly not caring about your voice. once vi realized that, she dragged her hand under to your chest, pulling you flush against her.

her hand moved over your mouth, silencing your cries.

at the new angle, she only pushed deeper.

your eyes widen, every nerve, every muscle twitching and shaking with pleasure. you couldn’t handle it, you simply couldn’t.

“not so tough now, huh?” she huffed, her voice out of breath and tight. you feel her being her hips back, just barely, before pushing back into you with such force you felt tears well into your eyes.

how could one woman have this much stamina?

you’d lost count at the amount of climax’s she’s brought you to.

she abruptly pulled out of you, flipping you over, pressing your back against the bed. it was like your body was drained of any sort of will— her strength easily able to manhandle you in every way she could, every position she wanted you in.

she placed herself back inbetween your legs. you saw that smirk on her face, so cocky and confident.

you couldn’t form words to comment something about it.

she brushed her hand over her forehead, inhaling a deep breath of air.

“i kind of like this.” she said breathily as she lowered her hand, aligning the tip of the silicone cock to your hole. as you feel her push back inside you, you let out a damned scream.

she’s quick to cover it, lips pressing against yours to silence your cries.

your legs touched either side of the bed, her hands pinning them down. your hips ached at the stretch— your core ached at the raw stretch the strap-on gave you, and as she pressed further deep inside of you, you swore you saw stars.

“god, oh, i— fuck!” you cry against her lips, hands gripping so hard on her back, nails digging into her skin, leaving crescent marks on her shoulders.

“shh, shh..” she hushed, hand smoothing across your thigh as a sense of comfort, yet, it only riled you up more.

she was so deep, so insanely deep— somewhere surely no one’s ever touched before.

“wouldn’t want anyone to hear you, would you?” she’d taunt, “see you in this position..”

her hips pull back, before bullying her way back into you, at such a slowed, tedious pace— to mess with you, no doubt.

you didn’t care. you didn’t care for anything— you couldn’t, not after this. you were sure you’d never felt anything like it— it was even better then the first night at the brothel.

“i— i can’t—“ you’d cry, head pushing into the pillow to hide your face. you just.. felt so fulfilled.

“oh yes, you can.” she mumbles, eyes flickering over every expression you’d made, engraving it in her mind.

her hips were flush against yours, filling you to the brim. her body pressed against your chest, her hands moving to grip onto the pillow on either side of your head.

“oh, fuck.” she said so softly, wincing as she felt the pressure against her own clit. then, her hips pulled back, and slammed right back into you. she found out, in this new position, it also gave her pleasure.

with how sensitive she was, even the short amount of pressure could help the ache between her legs.

a gleam found her eyes.

her pace became faster, harder, like a damned piston jolting inside of you.

you bite hard into your lip, hands falling limp and falling on either side of you.

“a little longer, princess..” she huffed into your ear. “come on, you can take it.”

“no, i—!” you cry, legs clamping around her torso. “mmmph—“

“just..” she let out a sharp exhale, adjusting her hips so the base hit her clit just right. she moaned into your ear, eyes rolling back, and the sight was just so damn beautiful.

you feel the cord in your stomach grow hot, your body shaking with every thrust she made.

at this rate, you weren’t sure how much you could handle— it was too much vi, so much vi, you were going to go mad. vi, vi, vi.

“oh, vivivi—“ you whined, your body riling itself up, again and again, over and over, each thrust bringing you closer to the familiar taste of an orgasm.

you were scared. scared of the feeling, of the pure pleasure that coursed through your body each and every time. scared of that feeling, of that blinding— oh, god!

your eyes shut closed, your legs clamped around her as that familiar snap of your orgasm flooded through you.

“say my name.”

“v..” you attempted. and then, you deflate against the matress. “vio..”

“come on, you can do it.”

her hips were relentless, forcing you through your orgasm. your body aches with overstimulation, threatening to burst with each and every second.

“say my name.” she says it more directly, nearly damn demanding you to. her voice is a growl against your ear, her hips picking up in pace.

“oh, violet!” you cry, voice cracking.

vi let out a loud moan, her head pressing against your neck, whining against your skin.

and then, she deflated above you.

your body jolts and shakes with every flow of energy, every flow of pleasure. you were so fulfilled, so full, finally getting what your body had been aching for, begging for.

a proper fuck.

a proper fuck from vi.

you had vi. and that was all you needed, even if it was only for the times being.

you yelp as she flips you over, resting you on her chest. she pressed her hips deeper inside of you, and you gasp.

“n.. no! no, no more.” you cry, your head falling against her chest.

“don’t worry.” she says as she caged her arms around you, hands resting tightly on your waist. her hands run up your back. “i won’t push you.”

you let out a sigh of relief.

you fell into a silence.

it was hard for your body to recover from your orgasms when the strap-on was still inside you, pressing into that spot. with every shift she made, you felt your body rile up again.

a beat of silence.

another.

you hear your click tick. you feel her chest go up and down with her breath. you hear her heart beat.

.

.

“i missed you.”

she says this so softly. her arms tighten around your torso, her nose nuzzling into your hair.

“not your body.”

a/n. uh.. hey.. sorry this took so long LOL anyway this kid kind of rushed i apologize and it kind of sucks but blushes thank u for all the support on this little mini saga that stemmed off a one shot 🤗

taglist. @just-levyy @princesssmars @thesevi0lentdelights @kissyslut @devotedlyelectronicartisan @cheyisagirlkisser @maracujais @n1shuu @vivispace @elliecoochieeater @izu-lu @wanna1be0 @honeybunbunnie @yariany02 @dumblilb @lalalalal16 @vyvvycg @ayooooohush @slvtformilfs @the-disaster-in-waiting (some of ur tags didn’t work im sorry :( )

[sxcret-garden]

Ateez Reaction ღ Their s/o experiences verbal shutdowns

ღ Ateez all members x gn!reader ღ words: ~200 per member ღ genre & warnings: reaction, comfort, a hint of angst but everything turns out well ღ reader: no descriptions of reader’s anatomy, no pronouns used

a/n: I'm not 100% satisfied with how these turned out, but I wanted to post them anyway, in hopes they'll be a comfort to some^^

Hongjoong:

he’s a little confused to say the least when one day you decide to tell him about your verbal shutdowns

he’s never actually heard that there’s a term for this, neither has he considered this as something that simply happens to some people and isn’t something that can really be overcome

so after the initial shock he decides to just listen to what you have to say first of all, wanting you to explain it in as much detail as possible so he could understand

and you’re mostly telling him this so he won’t worry too much and know what’s going on when it inevitably happens in front of him for the first time

so when he asks about how to help you in such a situation, you’re caught off guard

he makes it clear that he really wants to support you, but since he’s never experienced this himself, he wouldn’t know how to do that intuitively

and when you stumble over your words trying to come up with an answer, he ends up chuckling at you being so flustered all of a sudden

“It’s okay, we can take this slow.” - he reassures you

once you’re calm and collected again, he listens intently, and in case you’re not actually sure what would help you the most during a verbal shutdown, he also offers to do some research with you and help you figure that out

Seonghwa:

listens very intently when you tell him about this, and also takes you very seriously

he’s curious to know everything about your verbal shutdowns and how to help you whenever you experience one, but he also doesn’t want to overwhelm you with questions

so after the initial conversation about it, he makes sure to do a lot of research, looking up other people’s experiences, tips, etc…

he wouldn’t forgive himself for accidentally saying or doing the wrong thing and making matters worse, so he’s very dedicated to learning whatever he can about this

and he will be so supportive, suggesting using communication cards, or some kind of signal only the two of you know about for when you lose the ability to speak temporarily

and once it does happen, he proves just how well he researched the whole topic, because he’s quick to understand what’s going on, and he doesn’t pressure you to speak in any way

instead he leads you somewhere where you can recollect yourself, and he gives you the space you need to feel comfortable and safe with him

Yunho:

gets so worried the first time you have a verbal shutdown in front of him

you were mid-conversation about a bit of a difficult topic, and suddenly you go completely quiet, so he immediately figures something must be wrong

“Y/N? Are you okay?” he calls out to you, but you can’t react, because you don’t even know whether you should nod or shake your head

he comes closer and carefully reaches out to you, resting his hand on your upper arm as he observes you closely with furrowed brows and helplessness reflecting in his eyes

“Did I say something wrong?” he throws another question at you, and this time you manage to shake your head

and thankfully he decides to just wait it out and stay right by your side for now, because after a few minutes of racing thoughts you finally succeed in conveying to him that you can’t talk right now

tells you it’s okay and that it’s enough if you just nod or shake your head, before offering you a hug which you gladly accept

once your speech has returned to you and you explain to him what exactly happened, he will listen intently and make sure to ask about how you want him to act if it happens again, so that he can properly help you through this

Yeosang:

he gets so worried the first time you have a verbal shutdown in front of him that he doesn’t know what to do

he tends to struggle with figuring out how to deal with unexpected situations like this too, and especially when it’s about seeing a person he cares about suffer while not knowing how to help, he just panics internally

manages to stay calm on the outside though, and once some time has passed he will definitely ask you about this, because this guy will literally be unable to relax until he knows how to deal with such a situation

and when you explain to him that sometimes you simply can’t speak no matter how hard you try, everything clicks in his head

“Oh my god… I thought I said something wrong and upset you…”

now that he knows what’s going on he’s relieved

and he’ll feel even more at ease when you tell him what you want him to do (or don’t want him to do) in a situation like this

but even if you haven’t fully figured out yet what helps, he’ll be more than happy to try anything you suggest

though he will still worry, but at least like this he won’t freeze up anymore and can actually support you!

San:

another one who’s worried sick when he first witnesses you in a verbal shutdown

a thousand thoughts are racing through his mind at once when you suddenly stop answering upon him asking you a bit of a sensitive question

he’ll immediately think it’s all his fault and that he has accidentally hurt you deeply, and seeing the guilt on his face is eating away at you, especially because you currently lack the ability to explain yourself

so you do the only thing that feels possible right now, and you shake your head vigorously as tears of helplessness well up in your eyes

and that’s when he decides that comforting you should be the top priority right now

so he offers you a hug, and when you accept it right away, he’s a little relieved

“It’s okay…” he whispers close to your ear, “You’re okay, I’m here.”

will sit you down somewhere comfortable, get you a glass of water, and stay by your side for however long it takes you to get out words again

and even if you haven’t spoken after a while, he’ll eventually figure it might help to also get you a pen and paper, in case writing down your thoughts is something that’s possible for you in that moment

Mingi:

he isn’t looking at you as you’re talking to each other, facing away from you and having most of his attention on his phone - or so you think

because when he brings up something that causes you to shut down and become unable to talk, it takes him mere seconds to realize something’s off

turns his head to find you staring at him, completely frozen up and struggling with all the words circulating in your head that just won’t come out

instead you begin tearing up because you hate that this had to happen now and at the same time you feel guilty about it

you watch as Mingi gets up slowly and approaches you

“Y/N…?” he quietly calls out to you, the worried expression on his face only causing you to feel worse

however, this guy isn’t stupid, and he’s seen this happen before

and although he didn’t understand what was going on the first time, he’s starting to get it now

“Can’t say it?” he assumes and you nod, still fighting your tears

“That’s okay… I’ll just stay here until you can.” 

stays beside you and eventually starts rambling about how he understands that sometimes words can be hard and it can happen

and just listening to his voice like this eventually helps you feel at ease, until eventually you manage to speak again, thanking him for being by your side

Wooyoung:

this guy here does not understand what a verbal shutdown means when you first explain it to him

“Huh? If you have something to say… just say it?”

he feels it's best to encourage you to get over whatever's stopping you so you could talk anyway - which is less than helpful to you, knowing it doesn't work like that

so when you lose your ability to speak when you're out with him and some friends upon him asking you just the wrong question, you get anxious about how he would react

however, as soon as he sees the panicked look on your face and realizes that you really can't say anything, even after he repeats his question, he begins to understand

excuses himself and you and then takes you away to a quiet place where you two can be alone

offers you a hug and when he sees you nod he holds you tight, not letting go of you until a quiet "thanks" slips from your lips

needless to be said, now that he's starting to get what's going on, he is very curious to know more about it, and how to best support you during a verbal shutdown

Jongho:

when you’re in the middle of an important conversation and you suddenly stop replying, his first reaction is confusion

he can feel himself getting frustrated with you, because you were talking about a topic he feels the pressing need to get answers to, but when your reaction to seeing the hint of anger on his face is to take a step back to get further away from him, it starts to dawn on him that your silence is probably not about him at all

calls out your name in an attempt to appease you, and when his expression softens, some of the tension leaves your shoulders

still, you can’t talk

so you stand there in silence for a while, with you unable to look at him, so what you don’t notice is that in his head he’s going through all the different ways to handle this situation, trying to figure out how to help you

in the end he simply pulls out his phone, opens the notes app, and holds it out to you

“Maybe you can type it out…?” he suggests, and when you realize that he’s not mad at you or disappointed, tears start welling up in your eyes

“Oh my…” 

offers you a hug with open arms, and when you close the distance between you to accept it and to bury your face in his chest, he makes sure to comfort you first and foremost as he pats your head and holds you close