#sometimes I start to wonder if I’m making the right decisions

[everythingisarabbithole]

it’s been so much of wanting to have my cake and eat it too

[classyrbf]

ᯓ★ SUDDEN CHOICES! — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...when you thought your marriage couldn’t fall apart more than it already was, you’re facing the reality of it all. Forced to deal with a broken heart and taking care of your child, you’re left with the ultimate decision of choosing to stay or choosing to leave

INFO...toji x fem!reader, reader and toji have a child, angst, marriage problems, mentions of cheating, arguing, crying, threatening to divorce, comfort towards the end, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

Toji stared at you from across the room, a defeated look on his face as you held your crying child in your arms. A sour look formed on your face when you looked back at him. You two had been arguing again, he’s lost count of how many times you’ve gone back and forth with each other. The thickness of the room made him feel like he was suffocating, stuck.

“We can continue this conversation tomorrow,” you harshly say, rubbing your baby’s back gently, trying to soothe him back to sleep.

“How about we just drop it?” Toji sighed, turning away from you. You had caught him talking with his coworker alone in his office, which wouldn’t be a problem if they’re faces weren’t two inches away from each other and her hand was placed so comfortably on his chest. You caught them when dropping off his lunch that he’d forgotten at home.

“Drop it?” Your eyes widen in surprise. “You want me to fucking drop it?” You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Yes! I want you to fucking drop it! Is it so hard for you to stop arguing for one fucking day?!” He shouts, voice echoing off the four walls of your home. The babies cries start back up again, and Toji lets out another tired sigh. And he can’t even look at you anymore, not when you stare at him with such emptiness, tears threatening to spill. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell—”

“You never mean to do anything anymore, do you?” You reply through gritted teeth, stomping past him to make your way to the babys room. You slam the door behind you, silence engulfs the room and you stand there alone, consoling your child as hot tears pour down your cheeks. “It’s alright, baby boy, just sleep.” You kiss the top of his head, shushing him.

Rocking back and forth on your feet, you stare into space, the thought of what would have happened if you hadn’t brought him his lunch plaguing your mind. The girl…she was young, beautiful, something that you feel you’d lost along the way. It’s part of the reason you think Toji has been so distant with you. He’s lost attraction to you, maybe even lost love for you. And every time you bring it up, he denies it with the roll of his eyes. He’s doesn’t comfort or reassure you. It’s like he’s bothered by you and your child.

You barely see him anymore, always at work or drinking at the bar with his friends. Hell, you can’t even remember the last time you actually got to spend time with him. Sometimes you wondered why he even asked to marry you, and you wonder why you said yes. It was clear your marriage was falling apart right before your eyes. He says he loves you but you don’t feel it, see it. You feel nothing. Just a bunch of empty words to make you think everything is okay.

You look at the shining diamond ring on your finger, watching as it glistened in the light. The day he asked you felt like something out of a fairytale. It’s a moment every girl thinks about, the day the one she loves asks her to be theirs forever. It what you’ve always wanted. A marriage, a family, and now that you have it…would little you be disappointed it’s not like what she imagined? Would she ask why our husband acts that way? Why he’s always making us cry? Why he’s never here? It’s strange to think about.

You thickly swallow, blinking down at your hand. Is it even worth it anymore? You don’t know Toji anymore. It’s like he’s a ghost. Tears spill from your eyes, a stoic look on your face. The door to the room creaks open and you can feel him standing behind you, his eyes burning a hole in the back of your head. He looks over to your child, his son sleeping soundly on your shoulder. He slowly walks over to you, worried at how oddly silent you are. “Mama?” He looks at you with furrowed brows. You’re still looking down at your ring, dried tears on your cheeks. His eyes flicker between your face and your ring, a concerned look in his eye.

“Here, lemme see him.” He gently grabs the baby from your arms. As soon as he does, you quickly exit the room, walking away without saying a word. The baby stirs in his arms and Toji strokes his cheek with the pad of his finger. “It’s alright. I’m sorry for yelling. Im sorry if I scared you.” He stares down at his son and Toji feels a wave of crushing sadness wash over him, like a dark cloud. He kisses his son’s cheek before placing him in his crib, turning the nightlight on and turning off the room light. He shuts the door softly, making his way to the bedroom where he finds you sitting at your vanity in the bathroom, staring at yourself while you wipe your makeup off.

“Mama, can you talk to me?” He leans against the doorway, the silence from you making him itch for something, anything.

You halt your movements and slowly turn to look at him. “What do you want me say? You asked me to drop it, so I did.” You shrugged, sniffling, looking away from him.

“I’m not cheating on you. I know what it looked like.” He walked over to you, his footsteps heavy. “She’s just—”

“You’re gonna tell me she’s just friendly, she’s a co worker, I walked in at the wrong time. Am I about right?” You slam your hand down on the vanity. “I’m sick, Toji! What even is this?” You stood from your seat, the chair scraping against the floor of the bathroom.

“What are you even talking about, y/n?” Clear signs of frustration show in his expression.

“You’re never home. We barely talk to each other besides arguing. You never touch me, make love to me, most of the time you can’t even look me in the eye! You sleep next to me and don’t even hold me anymore!” The tears your tried your hardest to hold back come flowing out with ease. The anger boiling inside you allows your words to be sharp and powerful. “I can’t…” Your voice breaks. Toji goes to reach for you and you push him away. “Don’t.” You shake your head. “I don’t want your touch if I have to beg for it.”

“You’re my wife, y/n. My wife. I married you,” he exclaims, eyebrows raised.

“And what does that mean to you exactly?” You ask. “Genuinely, what does it mean to you? I need to know.” You stare into his eyes. “You say you love me but I don’t feel it, I don’t see it. So, please be honest with me, Toji. If you lie to me one more time…I’m leaving.” You were tired, over everything.

“I love you, y/n—” Toji stops his words when you take your ring off of your finger, placing it in his hand. “What…what are you doing?” He’s quick to ask. “Mama, don’t walk away from me.” He follows you out of the bathroom. “I’m not lying to you.” He squeezes the ring in his hand.

“You are,” you calmly say. “You’re lying to me and yourself. You may love me, Toji, but you’re not in love with me. Not anymore,” you explain. “Did you fall for someone else or did you just wake up one day and realize I wasn’t what you wanted anymore?”

“What are you talking about?” He shakes his head. “Mama, look at me.” He grabs your hand and slides the ring over your finger. “I am in love with you. I’m lying to no one. Not you, not me. What is this about, huh? Is it about her? I’ll fire her. I’ll do anything.” He’s practically begging, his grip on your hand growing tighter, the other cupping your cheek, trying to get you to look at him.

“I don’t know what to do anymore.” You break down, sobbing. “I’m so tired of this.” You try and pull away from him but his hold on you is strong. “Why do you only change when I threaten to leave? Why can’t you just change on your own? Why do I have to yell at you and cry to get you to realize?” You hit his chest once, and then once more, and then again. And Toji stands there and takes it. “Why don’t you want me anymore?” You cry.

He wraps his arms around you, holding you tightly against his chest while you sob in his embrace. You hate the way he still brings you comfort despite being the sole reason of your pain. You feel conflicted. Should you stay or should you go? Does he mean everything that he says? By now, you think you would’ve learned your lesson, but it’s hard to leave someone you dearly love, someone you’ve grown accustomed to, been so intimate with. Imagining a life without him is hard, especially now that you have a child together. Leaving brings in the conflict of having to explain why you and Toji aren’t together, why your child only sees one or the other, and every holiday and birthday is now split into two.

Toji knows he’s grown distant with you. He’s aware. But never in a million years did he mean to make you feel like you weren’t enough for him. He regrets turning down every conversation you’ve tried to have with him about it, because in his head it was no big deal. His entire reasoning being the fact you two were arguing a lot more and he needed space. Which, now thinking about it, is a stupid reason. As for his co worker, he could care less about it. Toji knew she was overly friendly and he’s told her about you, about your family. He drew a boundary that she wasn’t respecting. Not once he cheated on you or thought about it.

Though, that doesn’t mean he’s the perfect husband. Not at all. He can lash out, say hurtful things and come off as selfish. Clearly. Your muffled cries fill his ears and he just holds you. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m sorry. Im so sorry,” he says again. Slowly, he sits both of you on the edge of the bed. “We’re okay, mama. We’re alright. I promise.” He kisses the top of your head, holding onto you like he never wanted to let go. Toji doesn’t remember where things went wrong, but he didn’t want your marriage to continue down this path.

You lifted your head to look at him. His eyes immediately search yours and he can see how broken and tired you are. It shatters him. “You promise me?” You nervous bite the inside of your cheek. He wipes your tears and just with the touch of his hand he can make everything feel better, giving you hope.

“I promise you,” he says barely above a whisper.

“I miss you, Toji. I miss us.” Your lips quiver with a frown. His arms wrap around your waist, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as you both hold onto each other, hearts beating in sync against your chests.

“I’m here now. I’m sorry.” He heavily sighs. “I’ll make this right. I’ll do whatever you need to me to as long as you don’t leave. I can’t let you go—can’t let either of you go.” His voice begins to waver at the thought. His breath hitches, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“Can we lay down?” You mumble. At your request, he climbs into bed with you, laying you on top of his chest. It felt good to be so close to him again, something you haven’t felt in months. And Toji realizes he didn’t know what he was missing until he had you back in his presence again. Not in only in a physical sense, but mentally and emotionally as well. He drapes the blankets over the both of you.

“I won’t go into work tomorrow,” he blurts out. “We’ll spend the day together. Maybe ask Gojo to babysit for the day?” He suggests.

“What will we do?” You ask.

“Whatever you want, mama. We’ll have the whole day.” He intertwines his fingers with yours. You sit in silence for a few, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “You’re important to me. I need you to know that.” He caresses your back. “You listening?” Toji peeks down only to find your eyes shut, you’re quickly asleep, chest rising and falling with each breath. A small smile quirks at the corner of his scarred lips. “We can continue this conversation tomorrow.”

taglist (comment to be added):

@valleydoli @zxnxy @screechingbasementprincess @lexluthorbutnotbald @lynxslokley @briyah0 @levisjinchuriki @maiiluvs @levizonlywife

[ma1dita]

Hiiii! can i get one ticket for the graveyard smash starring Spencer Reid with a pretzel and a hot dog please? :):) this is so cooool

somebody’s watching me

[STARRING: SPENCER REID x reader ; “Don’t…move.” “Please just play along.” ] wc: 1.5k whoops warnings: MDNI —post-prison reid, bff!fem!reader, exhibitionism/voyeurism, mirror sex (kinda), dubcon?, p in v, creampie :)  kinda inspired by 8x3 and other eps i cant be bothered to remember, title from the rockwell song

monster mash-terlist

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

Spencer always does what you want him to.

It’s a bad habit he’s picked up after a decade and a half of being your friend. You’ve been through it all together— after a few shitty breakups, navigating your twenties, several mid-life crises, health problems, and even him getting wrongfully sent to prison for a few months, sometimes he wonders how you’re still here, and still just as stubborn as him. 

But he’s not sure he can listen to you this time around. 

His eyes flicker around the underground bunker the both of you are locked in and the all-knowing Dr. Reid is stumped and there seems to be no other logical option than—

“Spence?”

The red laser beam pointed at you almost traces the curve of your jaw like someone’s drawing the shape from memory. And then it situates itself directly over your quickly beating heart.

“Don’t move,” he breathes, reaching out for you when your lips fall into a whimper, a slight sheen of sweat over your skin. You’re sat on his lap with your top off and maybe that’s the reason why he can’t focus on figuring out a profile for your psychotic ex-boyfriend who’s definitely watching every move you make through the two-way glass that's across from the bed.

“I think it’s because we’re not moving is why…Fuck, Spence, we have to do it.” The TV screen imbedded in the glass flashes red again to catch your attention, asking—no, demanding you two to humiliate each other in the most carnal way.

And sure he’s imagined you in this before, way more times than he’ll ever admit, on lonely nights on the jet, even when he scrolls through your Instagram profile (you’re the only account he follows and the sole reason he tolerates the app), and especially whenever he hears the lilt in your voice that you reserve only for him, but it wasn’t quite like this in his mind. 

“I can’t…I’m not gonna do that to you,” he swallows thickly, licking his lips and catching the way your eyes follow the movement. You’re… actually contemplating this, he realizes as he recognizes the sureness in the furrow of your brows, “Don’t. My team will find us and we’ll get out of here,” Spencer’s voice is hoarse and his eyes widen at the feeling of your fingers undoing the buttons on his purple dress shirt. You’re quick with it, and by the time you reach his midsection, he knows you’ve made your decision, “I don’t want to die, Spencer Walter Reid.”

“We’re not going to die!” he scoffs frustratedly, and the rest of the air in his windpipe escapes him as you press kisses down his exposed chest, “M’gonna…God. I’m gonna get us out of here, okay?” Your tongue darts out to lick at his skin, trailing back up towards his neck as you start to rock against his growing erection and he tries not to like it too much. Spencer’s large hands slap over the fat of your hips—the sound echoes in the quiet of the room; with the force he’s grabbing your skin, it's sure to leave marks.

“Think my way’s faster. You should multitask or something then.”

Your best friend’s nails dig harder into the fabric of your dress pants as he tries to stop you again, “We can’t do this.”

“I want to,” you nip at his Adam’s apple, “Come on, we’re adults. There's no one else I'd even entertain this thought with. Plus your team’s coming, right?” Your nose nuzzles at a sensitive spot behind his ear, and the kiss you leave there is tender, for him—not the camera in the corner of the room, “Please just play along.”

“You want this? Swear on it.”

Spencer’s pinky raises in the air, his other hand patting around the top sheet to try to find yours, and when he does it’s trembling. He holds it tight, for the audience inevitably watching and in an effort to calm you down—because the last thing he’d ever want to do is hurt you. But your eyes flicker to the screen that starts counting down from 10, and then back to his espresso ones that remind you not to show any fear, so you lock your pinky with his and clear your throat.

“I want you to fuck me, Spencer. I really do.”

Honestly, it’s an offer even he can’t refuse.

It’s awkward at first, clothes fumbling off of each other’s limbs and then he’s laying back just watching you stretch yourself out on his cock. Spencer doesn’t know where to put his hands—they’re rubbing soothing circles into your thighs that are wrapped around his waist. He’s just…watching you watch him, his eyes fluttering shut and your belly contracting as you start to move, stamping your feet onto the worn mattress to push and pull yourself on his pulsating length. The sound of skin against skin and the embarrassing squelch of your pussy almost shatters through the air and it makes you self-conscious, gripping onto his shoulders to anchor yourself back to reality. You’re seriously fucking your best friend in front of your ex-boyfriend and god knows who else, and it’s hard to catch your breath as tears begin to cloud your vision, the humiliation starting to catch up with your confidence.

“Fuck,” he hisses, clenching his jaw at the sound of your little cries, cunt swallowing him whole when you almost lose your footing, “Spence…I can’t…” He peeks an eye open to see you…feel you quivering on top of him with your gaze focused on the glass, “I’m sorry, I’m just scared,” you sniff. Spencer’s hand cups the soft of your jaw, wrapping around the junction of your neck soothingly, “It’s okay. M’here. It’s just me.”

He’s trying so hard to focus on consoling you, but you’re so tight and tense and it’s bad that plunging into you feels so good.

"I know. S'why I'm scared," you mumble, bottom lip pursed in a pout and then a strangled noise rips its way out of your throat. Spencer realizes he’s fucking up into you when he hears you wail again, palms against his chest as he drives up into your weeping cunt, “You can take it, right baby? M’gonna take care of you.”

Fucking you was like nothing his brain could’ve ever dreamed to imagine— the way you’re writhing above him, broken calls of his name asking for him to slow down. But now he’s made his decision too, that no matter how this ends, even if you both die or walk out of here and never speak again there’s nothing that can take away the divine image of your body going limp as you cum for the first time with a “Yes!”

The screen still flashes red in your peripherals a while later signaling the end of the session. Neither of you pay it any mind with you face down almost eating the stuffing from the lone pillow on the bed and his eyes fixated on the globes of your ass as they almost have a gravitational pull, vibrating along his dick when he yanks your hips back to meet his. A whine slips past your lips, your eyes meeting the glass and watching your best friend ruin you in the reflection. His hair is wild with his efforts, pressing down the small of your back and yes, maybe for once it’s nice to let Spencer make the decisions for the both of you. 

Especially if they make you feel this good.

“Eyes on me, baby. Everything’s gonna be okay.”

You wonder when the BAU will get to you both, and if they do, you selfishly hope there’s a chance Spencer will get to cum too. 

He’s really breathy as he instructs you to look at him again, the smell of your combined musk in the air, sweat and slick being shared between your naked bodies. His voice is a low timbre you’ve never heard before, but your eyes are still busy watching him thrust into you with intention as if this already isn’t a memory you’ll forget. You find yourself extra pretty when he makes your tits swing like this, half-caught in a daydream of Spencer hitting a particular spot and how happy you look to get fucked while being watched by a psychopath, the grin on your face fitting someone who deserves to be institutionalized. You’re enjoying this more than you should, reveling in the attention and arching your hips so he can hold onto them better.

“You’re shaking so hard...” he breathes, noticing the uncontested bliss that’s taken over your face, “You like this huh? Like watching us?”

Nodding your head and biting your lip, you moan, “Like ‘em watching you fuck me. Your cock feels so good…” Your words are invigorating, making him tighten his hands around your neck as you go dizzy with pleasure.

"That's my girl," he smirks.

By the time your eyes roll to the back of your head for a second time, neither of you notice the number of lasers pointed at your bodies increasing, or the sound of the sirens outside the locked door. Spencer’s too far gone, hands interlocked around your throat to pull your head up towards his, moaning into your mouth as his cock stutters, stuffing you to the brim just as the door bursts open.

Came right in time.

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ma1dita's monster mash is open for requests until 10/12 :)

[manicpixiedreamedwins]

I’m going absolutely insane right now because @wordsinhaled and I were just discussing how books and reading are such crucial symbols in payneland’s relationship.

Their relationship started (or was very close to starting) with a bedtime story. Charles died while Edwin was reading him to sleep. He then makes the decision to stay with him after that story. (Sometimes I wonder if he knew he was going to follow him forever at this point and was just trying to be chill don’t mind me I am just screaming and and crying and—)

Then they open the agency. They collect a whole LIBRARY of books. Just. Stay with me. STAY with me—

So books are a thing for them. It’s also been established that Charles doesn’t seem to read them without Edwin, as evidenced by the fact that Edwin tells Charles “…the texts in our office aren't just for display” in episode three, and Charles does not contest his claim- he does ask him to scold less and explain the concepts though.

SO WHAT MAKES ME UTTERLY UNWELL IS I THINK EDWIN READING WITH HIM IS REALLY SPECIAL TO CHARLES and then Monty rolls up with an astrology book like it’s no big thing and oh. Suddenly Edwin has cast him aside after the Devlin House. And reading together was their thing. It was their fucking thing. It has been their thing since they met when Charles died.

And Charles doesn’t even have the words to vocalize why this is upsetting to him because he’s so used to getting stuck in a fawn response. He tells Edwin he thinks it’s “brills that he’s in a good mood” but they need to try and leave (even though that is NOT the face of someone who thinks this is brills lol).

That’s all. I’m so normal about them :))))))

[yanderambling]

omg i’m thrilled that y’all like him so much!!! and these ideas were soso tasty ugh your minds~ i had a lot of fun with this, maybe too much if you look at the wc lol, so i hope y’all enjoy <3 ALSO continuity note: since Adrian is so popular, i won't carry major events through different stories unless requested, that way everyone can have their own version of his story! but i'll be keeping general facts about Adrian the same unless otherwise specified, like his parents being rich because i find it funny~ thank you and goodnight <3 (and yes i switched this gif with the last part shhhh it’s okay)

pairing: Masochist Puppyboy!Yandere(m) x Bully!Reader(gn)

words: ~ 4.6k

you can read the previous part here!

CW: 18+, NSFW, yandere behavior, stalking, bullying, physical/verbal abuse, BDSM themes, poor BDSM etiquette but neither party minds

Adrian nearly choked when he heard his name read next to yours for the school project.

It took you a second to recognize his; you mostly just call him mutt. Once you realized, you loudly groaned at the prospect of spending the week with that pest.

Adrian couldn’t hear it over his racing heart.

As soon as class lets out, he's right at your side, yammering on about project materials and meeting arrangements and times and "we should really meet at one of our houses so we don't have to worry about distractions, I'm fine with coming to yours! It's closer to school anyway, right? It'll be more private- I just think it makes sense-"

You finally shut him up by making the executive decision that you’ll work at his house (you don’t need him shedding on your furniture, or potentially getting any personal ammunition against you; he is way too interested in being inside your home, and how does he know it’s closer to school?).

Adrian was crestfallen that he wouldn’t get to go in your house (and smell the pure you imbued in your furniture, and pretend he’s really your dog while you sit together- maybe in your bedroom!-, and snoop through your underwear drawer when you go to the bathroom, and snoop through your bathroom when he goes in right after you...), but he was still over the moon at the idea of having you in his space.

(He’ll just visit your window later tonight like usual, anyway- he'll still get high off that closeness alone. Win/win!)

Adrian doesn't think about anything else for the rest of the day, zoning through his classes and plastered to your side whenever he gets the chance, just alight with energy and anticipation and not shutting up about it- he's lucky there's too many witnesses for you to knock him quiet (oh, but he would feel so much luckier if you did).

You would totally bail on this project if you weren’t already failing this class, which is mostly on account of you bailing. You’re wondering if all those cut classes were worth having to work with this, but you’re not feeling hopeful.

The day seems to drag on forever for both of you, for vastly different reasons. By the time school lets out, Adrian is buzzing out of his skin and you're seconds away from ripping it off him.

As you two start the trek to his place, Adrian can't get over how surreal it feels to walk beside you. It's like you two are a couple, and you're walking him home for an after school study date!

He gets lost in the daydream easily, giving you a brief reprieve from his energy, and allowing you to absently notice his rapidly wagging tail almost propelling him down the sidewalk. You can't help but smirk a little at the image that conjures in your mind.

He's truly ridiculous, you can't really believe him sometimes. Doesn't that thing ever get tired? What does he think is gonna happen that's got him so damn excited? That he's gonna get in good with you somehow (hopefully) and you'll leave him alone? (never in his wildest dreams.)

Yeah, fat chance.

When Adrian stops at his house, you think he's joking. But then he walks right up the driveway of this random McMansion, motioning you along eagerly, and enters a security code before holding the door open for you with a clearly anticipatory smile.

...The fuck.

You did not count on Adrian’s family being loaded. He certainly doesn't dress or groom like it.

You consider berating him for not mentioning it, but decide against it for the risk of seeming stupid- to Adrian of all people. You do make a mental note for your future errand requests, though.

Adrian’s parents aren’t home, he tells you his mom is always traveling and his dad basically lives at his office. You’re relieved that you won’t have to put on a nice face for the folks, but there’s apparently still a live-in housekeeper that floats around (are you fucking kidding?) so you stay diligent.

Adrian suggests you two work in his room; you figure the further from watchful eyes, the better.

Despite it being his idea, Adrian can't help his giddy nervousness as you enter his room (he’d texted the housekeeper to make sure it was clean as soon as you decided to come over, lucky he keeps his souvenirs hidden away whenever he’s not admiring them).

The room is frankly ridiculous, easily twice the size of yours, a king bed in the corner, a desk and coffee table and two dressers, and yet adorned with piles of clothes and clutter and more genres of nerdy shit than you even knew existed.

"Yeah, okay, parts of this make sense."

Adrian cocks his head, opening his mouth to ask what you mean, when he suddenly chokes on air.

You've made a bee-line right to his desk, covered in books and papers for hobbies and school alike, but also holding a locked drawer at the very bottom in which he keeps his "school collection" (just discarded pencils with bitten erasers, torn up notebook paper he can still smell your hands on, old gym shorts you were probably gonna replace soon anyway, a bandaid here, a plastic fork there; nothing crazy).

He watches with bated breath as you sift through the contents of his desk, occasionally scoffing or chuckling at what you find. He lets out a sigh when you seem to grow bored, just for you to move on to his dresser and have his stomach doing somersaults all over again.

Maybe he should've asked the housekeeper to hide his stuff better and just braved the questions later...

You move throughout the room like you own it (you do, as far as the both of you are concerned), making little jabs at his various posters and figurines which make his whole body flush hot with pleasure because you're noticing things about him, but every other move you make sends his heart jumping into his throat in a completely different way.

It only takes a minute or two for the stress to get to him.

“Ah- hey! Uh, maybe we should- maybe we should start on the project, right?”

You bark a laugh and spin on your heel to face him, an incredulous half-grin pulling your lips and revealing a gut-twisting flash of teeth.

"We?"

Oh, yeah, he much prefers those intense eyes boring into him.

He starts spluttering placations immediately. "No! Well, uhm, I didn't mean- you, you don't- have to- obviously, I mean, I don't- I wouldn't-"

You roll your eyes and shove past him, effectively cutting him off as you flop down onto his abominably soft mattress. "Right, yeah, whatever. Let's get one thing straight here, okay?"

Adrian nods, his whole being drawn to focus at your entrancingly commanding tone. Although, it's incredibly hard to focus on anything with the sight of you on his bed right in front of him; he's already planning how to avoid that area so it'll retain your scent longer, he wonders if he could cut that part of the duvet out and keep it in an airtight container, maybe the sheets under it too just to be safe...

"This is not a "we" situation, got it? I'm not lifting a damn finger for this bullshit, that's what you're there for." Adrian has a purpose to you! "I am only here to make sure you're actually doing it, which shouldn't be a problem because if we get anything less than an A, it's gonna be your ass."

As tempting as it is to see what punishment you would inflict upon him, Adrian really really really wants to please you- and he's pretty good at this subject anyway!

You then cross your arms and lean back just enough to look down your nose at him. "Got it?"

Adrian can't answer fast enough.

"Yes! Yes, that's perfect! Awesome, good- great!"

But then he doesn’t make a move. Ha.

He looks a little lost, standing in the middle of his own room, barely biting down a grin and wringing his hands as he seems to wait for another command.

Apparently, you’ve trained him well.

You scoff and let yourself fall onto your back as you pull out your phone (Adrian's gonna need a bigger airtight container).

"Well, go on then, we don't have all day."

Adrian scrambles to get to work. He quickly positions himself on the floor by the foot of the bed and pulls the coffee table closer, emptying his school bag carelessly onto the carpet.

You huff a laugh at the sight, all this money and the kid's parents couldn't buy him any class. Maybe sloppiness is an inherent trait, like his apparent passion for service- nobody with this much money should be such a pushover. And yet...

Adrian couldn’t be happier, sitting on the floor while you lounge across his bed and periodically weigh in with (mostly incorrect) corrections or snide remarks, an almost alarmingly wide grin settled on his face as his tail taps a steady rhythm against his carpet.

It’s not an unpleasant picture, you muse absently as you look up from your phone, it’s almost comforting to have your little puppy on the floor, cheerily working away for you while you laze about. It certainly beats doing the work yourself, or having to threaten a student with an actual spine to do it for you.

Still, it doesn't take long for you to get bored. Bored enough to notice your empty stomach, at least.

"I'm hungry."

Adrian's head shoots up from the book he was hunched over, ears raised at attention and eyes glittering with something you're not sure you care to identify.

He's on his feet in the next second, knocking his knees on the way up loud enough to startle you yet showing no signs of even noticing.

"I-I'll ask Len to make something!"

He darts out of the room before you can tell him what you want, but you trust he knows your moods and tastes well enough by this point to predict. (Oh, he does, and Len's not going to be making anything- they don't know all the special ingredients!)

The second he leaves, you decide to really cure your boredom by snooping around in earnest. Certainly this creep has something actually weird hidden in here, you just have to look in the right places.

You waste no time in sifting through his bookshelf (nerd shit), closet (nerd clothes, some dirty), a dresser (nerd clothes, mostly clean), under his bed (dirty clothes, nerd shit in boxes)- the door opens behind you.

“Wha-? Oh! Ah- Wh-what- what are you doing?”

You don’t even bother moving from your crouch, most of your upper body shoved under the bedstand while the rest of you... is not.

Adrian’s mouth is completely dry for several reasons.

“What’re you, blind? I’m snooping.”

Adrian slowly comes further into the room, hesitantly setting the serving tray on the low table. He can’t stop his voice from cracking as he stutters out,

“Uh- yeah, okay, yeah, but- um, would you maybe mind- um, not?”

You snicker, at least he has some manners. “Yeah, I do mind, actually. What’s the matter, mutt? Got something to hide?”

“N-no!”

The answer is so immediate, so fervent, that it has you pulling up just to give him an unimpressed look. He stares back at you, eyes wide and frenzied.

“Jesus you’re a bad liar.”

Looking at him now, you can see sweat glistening on his face and his hands clenching by his side. His eyes dart toward the dresser you haven't checked yet.

Bingo.

You jump up from your position and stride across the room with purpose. You only make it a few steps before Adrian seems to materialize in front of you, making you stop short and almost yelp from shock.

“S-sorry! I’m sorry, I just-" he's waving his hands wildly, head ducked as his gaze rapidly flicks between your face and the floor, "You-you can’t- please, please don’t-”

“Okay, creep, I get the gist.”

You shove past him, and he wishes he could relish the firm pressure of your hands on him.

He whirls around and watches in horror as you approach the dresser. He needs to do something, he needs to stop you, but what can he do? You’ve clearly made up your mind, it’s not like it's his place to try and change it...

All he can do is watch, a high ringing in his ears and his body filling with static, while you meticulously sift through every drawer until his clothes are strewn about the floor and you're panting with frustration.

He's about to let himself take a breath when you suddenly squat down and stick your arm into the shallow space underneath. He nearly swallows his tongue when you let out a disbelieving huff and awkwardly slide out a long lockbox.

You look up at him triumphantly, eyes sparkling with glee, and he almost mirrors your smile just for how captivating it is.

"Open it."

"N-no-"

You lean up toward him and cock your head, he has to stop himself from being drawn in by the magnetism of your narrowed eyes. “The fuck did you just say to me?"

"I'm sorry! I didn't- just, I can't-"

"Oh, I think you can. Or you're not gonna like what happens next."

That's where you're wrong, and it only really strengthens Adrian's extremely shaky resolve. He tries to keep the grin off his face as he habitually starts to picture the punishment you might give him; a cuff on the ears, a knee to the stomach, a punch in the face-

But you just roll your eyes and groan, no longer in the mood now that something more interesting has presented itself.

Instead, your gaze floats down to the flimsy looking combination lock on the box, then it fixes on some heavy-standed figurine you'd knocked off his bookshelf earlier.

Yeah, good enough.

Adrian barely has time to flinch before you're snatching it up and breaking the lock with a sound crack.

Then you're lifting the lid.

"No!"

He starts to lunge forward, but your sharply raised hand halts him dead in his tracks.

Fuck.

It's too late anyway, judging by your wide eyes and slightly slack jaw (god how he wishes he could focus on the glorious curve of your open lips, or the way your perfect teeth peek over them, or how it might feel to have those teeth sunk into his skin-)

"What. The. Fuck."

"I-I can explain- It's not-!"

"I literally do not believe that you can."

Adrian's throat goes dry, he feels tears welling in his eyes. "I'm sorry- I'm sorry! I never meant- it's not like-"

You tune Adrian out as you focus on the stacks and stacks of photos arranged in the box before you. There even seem to be books underneath those, thick ones despite the shallowness of the container. You’d say there’s easily hundreds of pictures in here.

But, more concerning than the amount of photos… is their content.

They’re all you.

Undeniable, from every angle and range and setting you could imagine, it’s all you. There’s you at your spot with your friends, sitting in class, in the cafeteria, running errands in town, sneaking off to that private spot nobody else is supposed to know about, asleep in your bed- in dozens and dozens of iterations, like you could probably make a flip book of every scene.

It’s offensively redundant, honestly, a gross waste of paper. Maybe equally as concerning.

(Adrian needs to keep physical copies, and hard drives, and backup hard drives, and another box further under the dresser... What if something happens to his phone? What if he lost all his treasured photos forever? He doesn’t know what he’d do.)

"You're a bigger creep than I gave you credit for." You murmur, mostly to yourself.

Adrian never thought he'd feel anything but sheer joy from hearing that word leave your mouth. "N-no! It's not- it's not like that! I'm not- I don't-"

While Adrian's still blustering and working himself into a tizzy, you're just... processing.

It's oddly unsurprising, once you consider all the other factors together. Looking at it now, of course Adrian had more perverted reasons for complying to your cruelty, what else could he have been getting out of it? You guess you kinda always knew, on some level, but you never thought it would be like this.

But, since it is, you can't help but wonder just how far this perversion has gone, how far it will go...

This night has been boring enough that you're entitled to a little fun, right?

And besides, looking at him now- all wide eyed and droopy eared, his tail pulled between his legs and clutched in his trembling hands- Adrian actually looks a little bit... cute? In a pathetic, dirty stray caught in the rain type of way, of course.

The only real difference is that you'd be much kinder to the stray.

"Alright, shut it, stalker."

Adrian's mouth snaps closed, his tail trying to tuck further at your dangerously low voice.

"Obviously, this severe-" you flap a stack of photos at him, causing him to duck his head and whimper, "-invasion of my privacy can't go unpunished."

Adrian's eyes become impossibly bigger as they flash up to watch you stand. His ears suddenly perk, his tail tugs against his grip as it tries to hesitantly wag.

Jesus, he's shameless.

This is gonna be fun.

But first, a plan. You don't want Adrian getting too bold, so what better way to keep him in his place than by tying him there? Looking around his room, you don't have much to work with, but you're resourceful; a lace from his sneakers should do just fine (who keeps shoes in their room? what a creep).

"Alright. Sit."

Adrian is falling to his knees before his brain can process the words. When it does, he isn't quick enough to bite down on the high keen that builds in his throat.

You scoff, mentally scorning yourself for ignoring his shit for so long, then go to pull a lace. Adrian watches in rapt attention as you test its strength, your hands flexing so tantalizingly as you pull the string harshly several times over.

He holds his breath on instinct when your scrutinizing glare scans the room again.

"Okay, bed. Back to the headboard. Now."

Adrian scrambles up immediately, pulling some of the sheets off in his hurry, eager to obey before you change your mind.

You follow right after, kneeling up and leaning over him to tie his hands to the headboard above him. His dry throat click as he gulps.

You're so close, your heavenly scent filling his lungs like a sweet paralyzing vapor, he can feel the heat radiating from your skin despite the clothes between you, he could probably taste you if he just stuck out his tongue...

He whines as you yank the shoelace tight with a grunt before tying it off. You tug on his hands once more, forcing the string deeper into his skin, and your hum of satisfaction is drowned out by Adrian's low groan.

What a wonderful feeling, the sharp sting of the lace grounding him down like he needs to be; he can't help twisting and pulling until the burn intensifies, imagining it's your firm hands holding him so tightly...

"Jesus, freak, you're already getting into it?"

Adrian just whimpers, barely registering the question past your condescending tone as he continues to squirm.

You suddenly grab the front of his shirt and pull him forward until he's partially hovering off the mattress, the combined pressure of your knuckles under his chin and the shoestring grating his tender wrists pulls a breathy moan along with.

You lean in close, practically growling as you say, "Don't do my job for me, mutt."

You press a relatively fresh bruise on his arm just to see him twitch and bite his lip (it’s actually from a week ago, that’s how good he is at maintaining your marks for you!). It is pretty gratifying.

Almost as gratifying as the bulge you spot between his wantonly spread legs.

A breathless laugh punches out of you. It's oddly jarring to see, and you would later deny that it's slightly impressive, but it's not an entirely unpleasant sight.

"God, you're fucking pathetic. But you know that, don't you, you little creep?"

If your words weren't enough to have Adrian shaking out of his skin, you lean closer and nip his ear; he jerks back instinctively at the pain, which only makes its sting so much sweeter when you sink your teeth in and pull back.

He doesn’t bother trying to keep himself quiet.

“This isn’t even a punishment for you, is it? Is it, you fucking perv?”

Adrian is so far beyond saving face, he’s mostly beyond communication of any kind, so he just shakes his head fervently and grunts and hopes it’s good enough.

“Use your words, mutt.”

He gasps as you yank his throbbing ear, pulling his face closer to yours- oh dear god he can feel your hot breath against his cheeks, every detail of your perfect face so confident and dangerous and ethereal, your sparkling eyes look positively deadly and Adrian is ready to submit himself to their perils-

“Answer me," your sharp words make his lashes flutter, but he keeps his eyes wide open to stare at your taunting smile hanging just inches from his face, "are you getting off on this?”

He nods, he’s starting to get dizzy with all this nodding but he doesn't feel capable of much else, then you tug his hair back with the most glorious burn-

“Ah-Yes! Yes, I love- I love it, please- give me- more- please, I need- I need-“

He cuts off with a choked sound as your fingers slide up his throat and tighten, all too happy to oblige.

"That what you want? You happy now?" You taunt, your breath against the shell of his ear raising goosebumps all over his body.

He tries to nod against your grip, causing you to smirk and push further.

Oh god yes please-

Garbled moans fight their way from his throat as his eyes roll back in ecstasy, his straddled legs pressing tightly together as he thrashes desperately against the headboard, his whole body trembling and pushing up and up in search of contact- but you keep pulling away, putting more pressure on his neck to support yourself, bringing out the most pitiful little whimpers.

"Use your words, puppy."

Puppy.

Adrian chokes for reasons entirely unrelated to your hand on his neck. His tail, which had been beating a rapid tempo since you sat him down, starts flailing into overdrive.

It takes considerably more effort, but Adrian needs to please you- maybe you’ll even reward him!- so he coughs and gasps until he can force out,

"Y-Yes,” a strained cough, “Tha-agh-thank- you-"

A smile curls your lips unbidden. Such initiative! You let your fingers stroke over his throat as your hand presses in harder.

"There, that's a good boy."

Adrian's vision whites out.

He’s not even aware of the stream of whines and moans that force their way from beneath your fingers, he doesn't notice how his body squirms against the pressure of you on top of him, he couldn't tell the frantic thumping of his tail from that of his heart- all he can focus on is the red hot ecstasy filling every inch of him to bursting, the transcendent bliss of being so thoroughly claimed, so completely controlled, so wholly owned by you.

He's still hiccupping moans and thumping his tail when you withdraw your hand for fear of suffocating him, these needy little noises escaping his already bruising throat.

His head lolls back and his mouth falls open as you remain suspended above him, taking in your handiwork.

He’s so vulnerable, his entire body open and happily exposed to you, every muscle trembling in the aftershocks. His chest heaves as sweat and tears drip down onto his shirt, but he seems to pay no mind as his vacant eyes flutter up at you. He struggles to keep them open as a dopey grin spreads across his bitten lips, and you have to bite your own to stop from returning it.

Then, your eyes travel down to the steadily shrinking tent of his pants, now adorned with a dark wet stain- just like you expected.

Hot.

"Pathetic."

You sit back on you heels, seemingly alerting Adrian to your absence as his hand flies up to grab his throat with a high whine- but you cut that shit off right away.

"Yeah, no, I'm not trying to catch a murder charge tonight, thanks. Besides," your eyes pointedly flick down between his spread legs, causing his face to heat up though he makes no move to close them, "it looks like you got more than your share- frankly, you should be grateful for anything I'm willing to give you."

Adrian's voice is hoarse when he tries to insist, "I am! I-" he cuts off with a heavy cough, which only has you wincing with guilt a little. "I'm- I'm grateful. I am!"

You don't doubt it, especially looking into those watery, red-rimmed puppydog eyes of his. However, you do like to be cruel, and you did just get a bunch of texts from some of your friends about this 'super crazy thing you don't wanna miss and you gotta get down here right now!', (and you're maybe feeling a little uncharacteristically giddy as you fully process your situation) so...

"Doesn't matter, I can't reward this insolence."

You untie the shoelace with a deft tug and slide off the bed without another word.

Adrian just barely stops himself from whining again, the sudden loss of the pressure around his wrists leaving him feeling untethered. He has to dig his nails into his hands as he watches you collect your things (the covered platter lay forgotten on the table, insult to injury), just to keep from reaching out for you.

He wants desperately to follow you, but he can't make his body move for how relaxed and heavy it feels, and he knows it would probably just upset you more anyway- and not in the good way.

“Oh, and Adrian?” You slap the doorframe as you hang off of it, and your use of his name has Adrian's groggy head springing up to face you instantly, ears high and eyes hopeful.

“Next time you want a picture of me, just ask. That way I can knock some sense into you right away.” You tap the frame again, a crooked grin fixing your lips before you push off.

“See ya tomorrow!”

Still too fuzzy to move, and in fresh shock from that almost-genuine smile, he can only listen forlornly as your steps grow fainter and fainter until the door shuts downstairs. Then, he's helpless to do anything beyond replay the events of the past ten minutes in obsessive detail in attempts to permanently document every single sensation you gave to him.

He only manages to move about a half hour later, when his phone buzzes with a text.

He slowly leans over the bed and lifts his phone from the floor, blinking blearily as he reads... your name. Attached to a ludicrously extravagant lunch order for tomorrow.

The phone drops from his fingers like lead.

How?

His heart starts racing as he wracks his brain to recall when you put his number in your phone- then, his tail starts up again as he wonders if he'll be punished for already having yours in his (not for anything weird! he just likes to type out walls of text complimenting every part of you and telling you exactly the ways he wants you to destroy him and then deleting them- but maybe he'll send the next one).

It must mean something good if you want to keep in close contact with him, right? That must mean you aren't really mad at him, right? That must mean you like him, right? You still think he’s a good boy, right?

Another text lights up his phone. He scrambles to grab it back, hands shaking as he holds the screen close to his face.

[ur gnna b my bitch 4evr now]

A shaky giggle escapes him.

Those are easily the most beautiful words he’s ever read.

thanks so much for reading! feel free to send a request <3

check my pinned post~

[deathbyday]

-'⁠🫧*⁠.⁠✧ MOUTHWASHING ✧.⁠*⁠🫧'⁠-

P3

“How could we end up here…?”

Daisuke x implied F!Reader

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Written By: DeathByDay

(Also written on Mobile)

————

3 MONTHS LATER

You sat in the medical room, squirming in attempt to get comfortable on the small red chair. Anya sat across from you, paper in one hand, pen in the other. You were in your pajamas while she was still in her uniform. She hands you the two items before speaking.

“This is just a psych eval to see how you’re doing while working in the Tulpar with us. Then, you can head to bed.” She gives you a soft smile, easing any doubt that this was for something bigger. You hesitantly nod before glancing down at the paper, looking at the questions.

You’ve asked previously before to do it in silence, rather than her asking you the questions and you answering them. You opened up better that way, you said.

Question 1.

“How has the captain been treating you?”

You think for a moment, trying to recall any moments you’ve spoken with Captain Curly. You scribbled the word ‘fine’ down, keeping your answers short.

Question 2.

“Have you had any problems with any of your co-workers in crew 5?”

You paused. You didn’t know if you exactly had a problem with anyone, but you knew you had a few uncomfortable situations with one of them. You wrote; ‘I’ve had a few moments with Jimmy where he seemed strange”.

Question 3.

“How has working with crew 5 impacted your performance working in the space industry?”

You kept a soft expression on your face, thinking about how fun it is to hang out with your crew mates. You put down; “they’ve impacted me by including me in their work and conversations, which I think made my performance improve.”

You continue writing answers to the questions, casually glancing up at Anya from time to time. She rests on the chair, patiently waiting for you to be done. She didn’t rush you, which you were grateful for.

Question 10.

“If you were given the opportunity to quit working with crew 5, would you take that chance?”

You blink, wondering why this was a question. You scribbled down the word ‘No’ without hesitation. You lift your head, passing the paper and pen back to the older woman. She took it from you with care, placing the paper in front of her and the pen in the pen holder.

“Am I done?” You mutter, your voice soft. The calm silence of the medical room made you feel at ease, knowing that once you step out of this room you won’t feel the same way. Anya turned her head back to you and nodded, sending you on your way.

You stood up, giving her a slight wave before walking out the door. You felt exhausted. Obviously you’ve felt this way for a while, but never this bad. You sniffle, feeling like you could melt through the cracks of the floor as you drag your feet, making you way towards your crush’s room in the sleeping quarters.

You don’t know if you could call it a crush, but it was certain that you felt something for that man. You felt your heartbeat get faster whenever you were near him, and you sometimes stumbled upon your words. Typical crush stuff, right?

You rubbed your eyes before knocking on the brunette’s door, wanting to huddle close to him and fall asleep. As embarrassing as it sounds, it’s true. You felt safe with him. You’re pulled out of your thoughts as the door opens, revealing Daisuke in his sleepwear. He also looked like he could fall asleep any moment. Or maybe..

“Oh shit, did I wake you? I’m so sorry!” You immediately apologize, regretting your decision. “H-Here, I’ll go, alright?” You started to step back, only to be stopped by a hand loosely attached to your forearm. The look of panic floods Daisuke’s face before he shook his head.

“No, you’re fine! Please, come in.. I only fell asleep for a few minutes, don’t worry.” He mumbles, attempting to comfort you. You relax against his hold, his eyes softening as he lets you go. His door widens, inviting you in. You accept, stepping into his room. As you did so, his hand lightly glazed yours, causing your fingers to curl around his.

Once he shut the door, you turned around, his hand still in yours. You held it gently as you suddenly felt the urge to risk your friendship in hopes of it becoming more.

“Daisuke, can I ask you a question?” You murmured, staring into his eyes. A soft smile ran across his lips before he spoke. “You already did.” You grumble, not in the mood for his games.

“C’mon, you know what I meant!” You rolled your eyes as he chuckled, dropping his act. “Yeah, yeah. What’s up?” You took a deep breath in, feeling your face heat up from embarrassment. “Do you want to..” You mentally punch yourself in the face as your palm gets sweaty. Maybe holding his hand wasn’t the best choice.

“W-Would you like to be my boyfriend?” You mutter quietly, his ears barely picking up on the words coming from your mouth. The room goes silent for a few seconds as Daisuke registers what you said. You avoid eye contact, fearing his rejection.

He opens his mouth before stuttering, surprised by your confession. “R-..Really!?” His voice is filled with excitement before he grasps both of your hands, holding them in his. “Of course I would.. I’d love to.” Daisuke lets go of you completely before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his grasp.

Relief washes over you as you realized he didn’t reject you. You wrap your arms around him, your hands resting on his upper back. “At least the embarrassment is over.” You lightly giggle, stuffing your face into the crook of his neck.

His hand moves from your back to behind your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he played with it. As he did so, you felt your eyelids weigh down on you. You practically rely on Daisuke to keep you from falling, your body almost giving out on you.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that you were worn out. He felt your body get heavier as he held you up, guiding you to his bed. He chuckled as you fell back and laid down right next to you.

You embraced each other, your arms over his neck and his arms over your back. Your chin rested on top of his head as you stroked his hair.

His hands lightly rubbed your back, the warmth of your body and the sound of your heartbeat soothing him. Suddenly, you heard sniffling. You looked down to see Daisuke’s face covered in tears, the sound muffled. Your brows widen in surprise.

“Daisuke? Hey, what’s wrong?” You whisper, concern written all over your face. His grip on you tightens as he mutters. “I-.. *sniff* I didn’t think anyone.. *sniff* liked me like this. Like the way you do, I mean.. I’m s-sorry, I shouldn’t be *sniff* crying..”

A gentle grin formed on your lips before you kissed his temple, whispering against his skin as you chuckled.

“Of course I like you. In fact, I love you. Daisuke, you mean so much to me. No matter what happens.. please don’t forget that.” You murmured, setting another gentle kiss on his forehead.

He smiled up at you like a little boy who just got candy. He snuggled closer, hiding his face in your chest once more. You pet his head, twirling the strands of his hair around your pointer finger.

You felt his body weight get lighter, light snores leaving his nose. You close your eyes, not ignoring the ache in you to rest any longer. Just after a few minutes, you felt your body relax, sending you into a peaceful sleep.

————

1 WEEK LATER

You knocked on the door to the maintenance room, hearing Swansea’s voice on the other side. You waited patiently until the door opened, revealing the short haired brunette.

“Ah, Y/N.. how’s it going?” He asked, expanding the door’s entrance and allowing you to step around him. A soft grin appears on your lips as you step inside, glancing around the room before back towards the older man.

“It’s going just fine, Swansea. Thanks for asking.” You give an appreciative nod. “What are you doing?” You stare at the ceiling, seeing the vent opened with a few thin black wires hanging out. Sparks flew out, causing you to shuffle back a step or two.

“Be careful, now.” Swansea called from behind you. He grabbed your shoulder and gently shoved you back to avoid getting burnt. “I’m just trying to attach the wires back to the vent. Damn things..” He grumbles, shaking his head before turning towards you.

“Why’d you come here? Ya need something?” He raised a brow, crossing his arms over his chest. “Uh.. well, no. I don’t need anything. I just wanted to hang out with you, I guess?” You shrugged, not sounding very confident.

He chuckled. “You hanging out with me?” He couldn’t believe it. You quickly nod, confirming that you indeed wanted to keep him company. “Alright. There’s nothing entertaining to do in here, though. Just fixing things.” He turned back towards the ceiling before stepping towards the ladder, placing a foot on it, about to climb.

You watch carefully, handing Swansea any tools he needed to help him. As you did so, you asked where Daisuke was.

“I sent him to take a break. Kid almost triggered the emergency foam. Couldn’t let that happen with all the wires..” You nod along, understanding why he wasn’t with you two. It almost sounded like Swansea was protecting Daisuke.

You smiled at the thought before handing the man a screwdriver. He must’ve been working fast because after just a little while, he tucked the last wire into its original socket. You stared in awe, not knowing he was that good at his job. You would never tell him that, though.

He climbed down from his ladder before chuckling at your expression. “I’m surprised at how little time that took! You’re really good at your job, huh?” You grinned, glancing in his direction.

“Yeah, well, I’ve been in this business for over twenty years, you know.” He sounded like a proud dad showing off to their kid. “Seriously? I could never have the patience to do that.” You replied with a shrug, a hint of jealousy in your voice.

You sighed before turning towards the door, the knob in your hand as you spoke. “It’s been fun talking to you, Swansea. Thanks for letting me hang out.” You shot him a smile before stepping out of the room, shutting the door behind you.

Suddenly, you felt a firm hand rest on your shoulder, making you instantly turn around, your body jumping at the feeling.

That hand that was placed beside your neck belonged to Jimmy. Your smile faded, your lips straightening. A soft expression sat on your face, matching the man’s energy. “Do you need something?” You muttered, not wanting to be near him alone.

He nodded, staying silent for a few moments before placing the same hand on your bicep. ‘What the fuck..’ You thought, glancing at his hand before looking back up at him. “Yeah, I do. Do you know where Anya is?” He smirked, taking his hand off of you before settling his hands on his hip.

You swallow your saliva, not wanting to deal with this guy. “No, sorry. I don’t.” You shake your head, lying to him. Right before you talked to Swansea, you were in her bedroom, just talking. “Maybe she’s in the medical room?” You suggested, shrugging your shoulders.

He hummed in agreement before pushing past you, not letting a ‘thank you’ slip through his throat. You turn back to him, watching him walk away from you. You grumbled to yourself, your hands fisting in anger. He could’ve at least said something.

————

0 HOURS BEFORE THE CRASH

You heard the captain yelling in the halls, causing you to peek around, confused why the Tulpar was rumbling. You began to shake in fear, stomach feeling uneasy. You were in the halls when it happened. You were alone. Adrenaline rushed through your veins as you ran towards the noise, determined to know what was happening.

As you turned a corner, you bumped into Daisuke. He looked afraid like death was approaching. He immediately held your hand before questioning you.

“What’s happening?” He yelled, his voice barely audible. “I don’t know! Where is everyone?” You gripped his bicep, your nose wrinkling as your eyebrows lift, becoming more afraid than before. You felt like you were about to start crying. He shrugged, His face softens as tears well up in your eyes, filling them up.

“We need to go. It’ll be okay, I promise.” He whispers, tightening his grip on your hand before practically dragging you down the hall as he ran. You stayed close by, not daring to lose him.

You felt your breathing get heavier, becoming worn out. “Where are we going..!?” Your head was pounding due to the sound of the alarms, the red colors taking over your vision.

“F-Far away from where we just were! Captain Curly’s going crazy over there.” Daisuke exclaimed. You didn’t question it and continued on your way, not wasting a single second to get as far away as possible.

It was a single flip of a penny. The Tulpar could either blow up on one end, or the other. You prayed that it wasn’t the end you were headed towards.

Suddenly, you heard a loud explosion from the other end of the space freighter. You and Daisuke shot each other a look before rushing back to where you came from. You let his hand go to be able to run faster.

Nothing could have prepared you for what you stumbled upon in the cockpit.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

author’s note

could anyone tell I was getting tired of free styling this thing?? (but ofc I still loved writing this chapter and I’m gonna love writing more!)

I was WAY too over excited to finally show you guys the next chapter, I just had to release it early. Can you blame me though??

next chapter is you finally getting into where the gameplay starts, yay!! bye for now<33

[gangplanksorenji]

Kinknuary Day 22: Spanking

Pairing: Kep1er Xiaoting x Male Reader

Word Count: 4,956

[Kinknuary Masterlist]

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“Don’t you want to take me somewhere else more than this?”

“I actually just want to go home now, Xiaoting—I’m pretty tired…”

“Aw, come on—please? Just one more then we’ll go home…”

Of course, Xiaoting won’t end a day without a good note because she detests anything that’ll make her feel bored or even the simplest hint of discontentment and you won’t dare to disappoint her. Sometimes, life doesn’t go the desired path they want them to and that’s being sampled on her right now, and you won’t let her selfish wants be your burden in the long run.

“Aren’t you even feeling tired, Xiaoting?” Your tone laces a hint of discomfort as she seems to be much more invigorated than you even though you’ve mostly spent the whole day shopping and attending such an incredible party you’ve ever gone to. 

“Not really, but please—”

“Okay, okay…” You break her constant plea with a single proposition: a classic game of rock, paper and scissors and whoever wins, will mark both of your fates—it’s quite a simple game but unable to be rejected as Xiaoting agrees about that, and you smiled because of her sudden agreement.

“Just once, okay?”

“Alright…” Xiaoting sounds pretty defeated even though it hasn't started yet because the pessimistic side of hers says that she may end up losing and it will deeply make her disappointed and knowing how well she will think, you curl up a smirk as this is the moment of truth.

Counting down up to the lowest possible integer, you could feel the tension on Xiaoting’s eyes, laced with anticipation and the desire to win as she wanted herself to be fully-redeemed on peak-happiness but it’s like, you can clearly read her mind through that serious gaze of hers as you curl up a smirk after utter ‘zero’ and guess what, all became too ambitious for someone who desired something truly at its best.

It wasn’t really the best, for Xiaoting as you landed ‘rock’ front of her which made her gasp in defeat as it’s too late, with even half a second to spare and cheat, she panicked and managed to land a ‘scissor’ and with that little game, you knew who’s victorious and it’s goddamn you. 

“I hate this game! It’s unfair!!” Xiaoting whines and as expected, she rants out how rigged that game could be and how you “cheated” to get that desired prize as she frowns in front of you, her pouty yet disappointed expression still exuding such beauty that no one can come close.

“How is it unfair? You even switched it up at the last second and ended up losing? Just accept your defeat—”

“Ughh, fine! Fine, I will…” Xiaoting brushes off your further continuation of fighting how she’s on the wrong side as she doesn’t want to hear anything that would just make things worse—it’s like she’ll lose anything of our decision, probably a good night’s rest at her place, especially with you on her side. Knowing that investing onto another argument or another plea won’t make anything better since a deal is a deal and you’re just going to wait for time to tell the fate you have in store with and knowing how Xiaoting will take your upcoming proposition wholeheartedly, then it’ll be just only a matter of time before it all unveils onto that anticipated abyss of wonders and desires.

---

It never gets old between the both of you and the fact that you’ve been holding this for a while now is surprising, knowing how insatiable Xiaoting can be at an times you lay your eyes on her as her vixen-like aura and her seductive nature is enough to make you lure in to your deepest desires, and it’s being fulfilled with multiple, sloppy kisses on her lips. You chase your delightful moments in every kiss that you make up with her, as much as the lustful need in you every time you tangle your tongue on hers as you went deeper, and Xiaoting, pulling out as she’s running out of breath due to our audacious nature and aggressive actions towards her.

“Why would you pull out, babe? Am I too much for you to handle?”

“Not reall—ahh, ohh… right t-there…” Maybe you’re right or you could lean onto the opposite, knowing that the culprit would be the lack of oxygen would let those speculations set aside onto the correct verdict. You know how your lips are one of her ultimate weaknesses out of the many things you can elaborate as you let her know how your stupendous skills can make a girl like her fall under your spell within just mere seconds. You latch onto her deep, sharp collar bones that you always love worshiping, knowing how perfectly sculpted those are like the rest of her body, deemed to be drooled on a praised by only you—you could be just the luckiest menace of them all, being gifted with such an angel being close to the epitome of perfection, from head to toe. You keep peppering that porcelain skin of hers with multiple kisses, running your lips down to her neck as she moans almost-inaudibly and incredibly sultry, voicing out her deep satisfaction towards your expertise.

“Oh god—you k-kiss me so well—oh, so good!”

Hearing her constant compliments on your actions, you continue to pepper her with intimate kisses until you pull out right after, hearing her soft whimpers needing your lips to be attached onto her skin as soon as possible but you had enough, for now. 

“Isn’t my baby needy for me?” Your eyes demanded an answer escaping her lips right away, wanting her to unleash that living submissiveness inside her and you’ll do it slowly, knowing how the beast inside her will be a little challenging to tame. 

“Y-Yes…”

She’s succumbing onto that state slowly as her eyes glistening with need and her soft, needy tone is enough of an evidence, luring her into falling under your spell and will not make her escape out of it. With her needy pleas and her body grinding greedily against yours, wanting to feel your touch, you can’t seem to be convinced as there’s few elements that’s lacking from her constant pleas. “Yes what, baby?”

“Yes, please…” With Xiaoting’s constant pleas, you can’t help but just fulfill her needs right at this moment but you need to unlock that beast inside of you with the magical word that will turn her world upside-down. 

“You’re getting there, baby~” You tease her porcelain skin with a gentle swipe of your fingers, running it down her neck and then up to her toned midriff, which you always love kissing and worth worshiping until the end of time. Xiaoting knows that she needs to crack the code within you, and with a clever mind and taking a few seconds of the clock for her to think about what could make that happen, she finally thought of that forbidden word and it’s only a matter of time until~

“Yes I am, daddy.”

You never expected her to fail in any kind as she’s cognizant as the way she is and it’s always impressive to see and even hear it all with utmost sincerity and need. With your face still inches away from her, such eye contact would let the other succumb onto the endearing stare of the other yet you’ll change that, more likely, a commanding one as you live up with that, wanting Xiaoting to strip her clothing in front of you with class and skill like nobody can achieve. Maybe, you haven’t seen anyone become on par with her skills, let alone surpassing her and you’ll keep it that way—it’s way phenomenal seeing Xiaoting doing the things she’s great at and you won’t even bother thinking of another woman to do it for you. With her seductive gaze inviting you to strip her clothing with her, you wouldn’t skip that opportunity as you do so, slowly removing the fur-like sleeves on her arms but before you completely strip it off her, you take some time to commend her flawless figure and her outfit perfectly complimenting each impeccable feature she has.

“Thanks, d-daddy—really l-loved this one…”

“You know, as much as I want this on you, this would be better on the floor.”

Xiaoting’s lips curled up a sinister smirk as she invited you to make that “wish” of yours come true, and it wouldn’t take up much of your time until it became accomplished. She would aid herself for you to be comfortable, leaning onto you as she gives you such inviting and sultry moans, making yourself get riled up for her and you love it but you wouldn’t be fazed with that as you continue stripping her. Her hands wouldn’t be idle as she pulled her pants, down to her ankles and then onto the floor with a swift motion and god, those scrumptious, milky thighs on your sight is tempting to be voraciously kissed as hunger took over you yet you continue your work and with her top off, her slender, hourglass figure is now within your eyes to be blessed and you couldn’t ask for more because of it. 

Xiaoting is a work of art, sculpted by the gods to perfection as you’re the lucky man to handle and appreciate this masterpiece, maybe even use it until her legs give out—a sullied goddess, in your own books. 

“God, you’re fucking hot, Xiaoting—oh gosh…” You can’t believe your eyes as it takes numerous gazes throughout her perfect figure, eyeing every inch and drooling on it like it’s a five-course meal—maybe it may lie down onto the scope of similes but metaphorically, she’s always the main course and you would love to devour her like a predator hungry for its prey. With her last bits of defense still within her body, concealing her true beauty, you asked Xiaoting if you can strip it off her and without any hesitations, she nodded as she’s been longing for this for a while now.

“You really love my body so much, hm, daddy?” Xiaoting doesn’t even need to ask you about that because she already knows what your answer will be and it’s always readable, your eyes glistening with hunger over her is enough evidence. 

Still busy admiring her scrumptious body and her drooling all over it, it took you seconds before you could respond as you flash a smile at her, making her feel delighted and truly loved by you. “Of course, baby—I love it all but daddy’s getting impatient…”

Xiaoting runs her finger onto your clothed chest, up towards your shoulders as she rests her arms on it, and then utters such a seductive invitation letting you know how it’s going to start. “Have your way with me, daddy—I’d love what you’ll make me do…”

And as always, Xiaoting never laid a better invitation than that and she never fails to make you amazed and aroused. With all of that foreplay coming into its denouement, you commanded Xiaoting to get onto the bed as her naked body is now on display, ready to get used as she gets on all fours.

“This is going to be fun…”

--- 

“Count.”

“Y-Yes, daddy…”

It’s maybe a newly profound kink of him, and maybe even you, considering that as you're guilty as he probably likes how your thighs jiggle with his mighty palm striking onto your butt with the force of a truck, and you love it. He knows how you love it so much, your eyes won’t even deny letting him know about that and under his own control, you completely submit yourself and let him have his way with you.

“Don’t hold back, baby—let it all out and count, do you understand?”

You nod frantically, not wanting to disappoint him as you wiggle your ass in front of him, inviting him to do the honors of the actions he’s been longing to do—

*loud smack* “O-One…” 

It was just the first one and it’s already rocking your world, sending your arousal up to the sky as his smacks are pleasurable, making your sensitivity peak at its finest. You could feel yourself getting wet with the thought of his hands spanking your butt harshly until it’s red as a tomato while ramming your tight cunt down and you can’t wait for it to happen.

*another loud smack* “Two—oh god…”

Another one emanates around your ear as the crisp of its pristine sound sends your libido skyrocketing, probably filling the urge of him using you but you can sense and know how he won’t just pull the trigger this easily—the both you wanted this on the first place: you wanting this for a long time now and gains gratification from it and lastly, him wanting to tease you and there’s no better way to do that with his palm printed onto your milky buttcheeks, going to be redder than a tomato.

*another loud smack* “T-Three… That feels so g-good…”

It may feel redundant but you love every second of it and will not even feel the hint of being tired of it because of his harsh actions—you wanted the pain anyways, as he knows how you derive pleasure from his spanks and the discordant sounds of it increasing your libido onto the roof, and makes you even wetter by multiple barrages of it.

*another loud smack* “F-Four—f-fuck, daddy…”

This time, it was way harder than the rest as you whimper in pain again because of his harshness, but gaining that genuine gratification as you love the pain and the pleasure mixing all up together—you’re maybe a masochist because of how you derive intense pleasure, and you know he’s here to fulfill that at all costs. Even though you can’t catch a glimpse of the hot sight of him doing such sinful things to you, you can’t still brush the fact that your imagination reaches the furthest of its limits, capable of formulating the filthiest thoughts known to mankind.

*another loud, harsh smack* “Five—o-ohh… too g-good—ahh~”

You keep voicing your own satisfaction alongside your ragged breaths between random intervals that puts him onto authority to further smack you until your butt is scarlet red but you can sense that he has better options in mind, the feral beast inside him wanting to be unshackled from its restraints, and you’d be the guest to let it be a wish come true.

“Such a good girl for me, hm?”

You know he’s growing impatient, and you can sense it igniting in his eyes and you wouldn’t dare to let him wait for another move preceding what he could command you.

“Yes, daddy—” Your sultry voice invites him into falling down to his own, carnal desires and you know he wouldn’t make the both of you wait for nothing as every second should be treasured. “—now will you fuck your good girl?”

It’s up to him to write your fate, and you’ll just relax yourself and find out what it would be…

---

It does tempt you into fulfilling her needs and it’s just a single strand before you break your shackling confines, and it wouldn’t be long until you reach your primal desires. It wasn’t your cup of tea to tease into oblivion but if she wanted that then so be it as foreplay plays an impressive role on someone’s anticipation and her desires running like a roller coaster, all opting for the chase of fun and the freakiest frustrations of not being attended.

“Put it in, daddy—please, ohh!”

Of course, another tease makes her weak, whimpering in need as she tightly grabs the bed sheets for a leverage to fight the profound pleasure that she's not experiencing. You continue swiping your finger onto her heated core as she cries in response, and it further skyrockets once you start stimulating her clit and with her small sounds being the fuel on your unstoppable lust, you won’t let her wait for more as you gave what she truly deserves.

With your hands caressing the soft, silky skin of hers, you grab her hips and position yourself into a state of bliss and within a single second, it all went uphill as you could just hear each other’s groans emanating the wonders of such a great commencement of sex. You deliver shallow and leisure thrusts, aiming to just make her anticipate and savor every second of that blithe that she always loved. You continue peppering her neck with constant pecks as you muster such a sluggish pace, making her feel loved as you worship her and make her know how much you adore her.

“You l-love kissing me, daddy?”

You smile at her question, and you know that she already has the knowledge about that question, but you would love to let her know about everything you love about her, more likely, verbally. “Of course, baby—how could I not adore every inch of your perfect body?”

Well, she’s not egoistic but she knows how perfect she is in your eyes and that’s something that always wanted to hear, as it boosts her confidence in a great percentage and makes her feel the utmost care by you. Maybe the slow and redundant foreplay was getting on your nerves longer than you expected as you wanted to ruin her and Xiaoting herself would love the thought of that.

Maybe it won’t rely onto the cloud of thoughts as it’s now ascending into reality, pacing faster into a moderate speed where she constantly whimpered in need, your constantly ramming cock into her tightness becoming too much for her and of course she would request for an element to be added for the better experience for both parties.

“Spank my ass while you f-fuck me, daddy—oh god!”

Now averting your hands onto different places: your left hand swiftly fondling her perky breasts for better stimulation and your other hand already finding its way onto smacking that soft flesh in front of you, the rippling of it and the sound it reverberates around the room makes such an arousing sight that it further thrust you into her rapidly as she recoils a little from your harshness.

Who would have thought that a modest, sophisticated girl like her is invested in such a sinful, cruel act? Well, it wasn’t emanating from her aura totally but you know how she subconsciously knows how hot and captivating of a woman she is—you’re glad that she’s yours and you’re the only one to have a sight of her alluring masterclass. Maybe it’s a faux conception knowing that Xiaoting doesn’t exude such hotness if she’s always being a little “puffball”, as you call her, but her other side is nothing compared to this and god, the next thing you’ll know is that you’ll be just riled up for her that the both of you will succumb to each other’s needs and be the freakiest creatures known to mankind.

If it wasn’t always the case about the latter, then you don’t know what is because the both of you prove your points about that title.

Harsh spanks add up to the sea of cacophonous sounds that lingers around your ear, further fueling you to bring such hard poundings in aims to totally let her succumb to submission, and you’re nearing that goal with all of the stimulation you’re doing on her. Every whimper she exclaims with the pain you’re bestowing her just makes the sight rapidly hotter but you know it wasn’t enough until her cheeks are scarlet red so you muster a new pattern of thrusting between spanks and using the other hand as a leverage by grabbing her hips harshly. The constant rhythm of your hips gradually increases over time, and so is your harsh treatment towards her but you want to add an incredible twist that will elevate the experience even more.

Xiaoting lets out series of cries as you pound her into the mattress, her arms able to give out with how much you’re treating her and then suddenly, you slow down immediately, catching her off-guard and for her to recovering a little as you’re selfless—you wanted her to savor every moment whenever possible and not want her to reach her high too quickly even though you know how your cock can make her do that in a few minutes. With your sudden impeding, you could take a closer attention to admiring her scrumptious backside and the sexiest curves of her hourglass figure that you can drool on for days and won’t get tired of. This is also an exceptional time to let your hands be berserk and give her harsh barrages of spanks that makes her even wetter and even more whimpers that lets your cock twitch because of how soft and arousing her tone is.

“P-Please fuck me h-harder, daddy–oh gosh, s-so good!!”

Another resonating smack lingering around  her ears as you’re a little infuriated with her pleas, making her writhe a little and cry in need of a better pace. “Don’t tell me what to do, baby…”

Her tightness is nearly suffocating but you don't care, not when a hot sight is just right in front of you as you resume on your frantic pace, making her moan uncontrollably to the point that she almost screams and it’s deafening but angelic. With all of the constant stimulation of your hands throughout her body and the pain you’re bringing in with such onslaught of smacks, it wouldn’t be surprisingly to know if Xiaoting is going to reaching her high sooner than you expected as the constant constricting of her pussy and the juices seeping out of it are enough evidences to set herself near to the promised land. Now with her buttcheeks red with your hand printed on it, you gave her a small break and continue to double your efforts on pounding her tight cunt, letting her know how she’s going to be having the paramount orgasm of her whole life and with a shuddering response escaping her lips, you knew it’s deemed to come into an end.

“Shit—daddy, I’m gonna c-cum so soon!!”

She wanted this for so long and you wouldn’t dare to put it in a halt and gave the reward that Xiaoting absolutely deserves. “Then cum, baby—cum all over my cock—”

It all went onto that singular point of bliss, releasing deafening screams of pleasure as she lets everything out around your ravaging length and with Xiaoting aiming to further elevate her orgasmic trance, she requested you still fuck her senseless on her orgasm as you do so, making her a wild, mindless mess just capable of uttering such sinful sounds. With your ruthless pace, Xiaoting kept whimpering on how she wants you to treat her harsher as you fulfill her wants, further hammering her tightness with such thrusts mustered to the highest velocity possible and with spanks with a force of a truck. After such breathtaking thrusts and a breakneck pace, you instantly calmed down the feral beast inside of you and gave her a leverage to recover, thrusting with such a sluggish pace as she catches her breath due to her orgasmic high.

“Daddy, t-that was—”

“Good? Yes, baby, I know—” You lean down to kiss her beautiful neck, and then course your way near her ear and continue her sentence. With your lips still worshiping the porcelain skin of hers, you let her know how great the experience was and showered her with compliments that definitely stroked her ego. “—because honestly, you felt great around my cock, baby…”

Xiaoting lets out needy whimpers—maybe even possibly smiling because of your compliments—as you stroke her hair to make her feel your touch, your hips now ensuing a moderate pace, pumping into her but this time, it’s all full of affection and love and dismissing the harshness and greed like from earlier. Knowing yourself would be near your own high too, you wanted to save the best for the last as you warn Xiaoting that you’re going to pull out and let herself switch into a different position.

“Baby, turn around for me so I can fuck you while seeing your beautiful face.”

It was straightforward and she obliges immediately without any questions and even with the hint of frustration laced on her emotions, it wouldn’t be long until you reward her with something exceptional as now is the time for another side of bliss. As she spun her figure around gracefully, her hands grabbed your shoulders as you immediately didn’t waste any time teasing her and plunged your length deep inside her and god, she’s still as tight as earlier and you wouldn’t complain about that because that’s what makes every second worth cherishing. 

Your hands then coursed down on her waist, caressing it as your touch makes her writhe a little and it didn’t bother you, continuing onto your desired precedence to reach your ultimate high. You pump your hips in her with aims to make her feel the utmost pleasure and how much you love her and with Xiaoting’s cleverness and the heat rising up onto its maximum scope, her hands didn’t become idle and pulled your head towards her, initiating into a heated kiss. It was full of hunger and lust as the both of you kept on chasing the higher authority, battling for the dominant control over the other person as drool inevitably seeped out of your mouths with your tongues dancing around gracefully. The kiss eventually gets sloppier and more heated and so are your ramming thrusts, pistoning onto a velocity unable for anyone to comprehend and it wouldn’t take long before you achieve your long-anticipated high with that familiar tingle in your loins.

Wanting to savor the last moments before your peak, you initiated a new rhythm as you gave up on a ridiculous pace in exchange for more powerful thrusts, as every time you do it, her thighs jiggle like jelly and that’s why you love such slow-paced thrusts that aims to strike harder—maybe the accumulation of such force on hammering her tight cunt is wonderful and it wouldn’t be long until you achieve something that you’ve been longing for.

“Aren’t y-you close, daddy?”

You chase your breath as you became too focused on peppering her neck with kisses and fucking her into oblivion that it took your seconds before you responded back, “I’m pretty close, baby—”, and instantly you kissed her lips again as you looked at her endearingly, full of fervor as you muttered such saccharine-filled words, “—I love you so much…”

That made Xiaoting realize how sincere everything was and she always knew it, but she never felt this much adrenaline and affection as she can’t help but smile sincerely as you continue hammering her and chasing that peak of yours. “I love you too, daddy—more than anything in this world.”

You pulled Xiaoting into another heated kiss as you buried your entire length in this, filling her up to the hilt as she let out muffled moans onto your lips but didn’t let herself faze on her grand prize, continuing on deepening the torrid kiss. You fill her up as you grab her waist tightly, almost forming into an embrace in order for a better leverage on dumping everything inside her. You groan between your heated kisses with Xiaoting as everything is just now in a complete state of bliss, every spurt worth treasuring as the constriction of her walls makes the pleasure worth your while and maybe even extending your orgasm. When you feel that everything has been toned down, you then palm her shoulders and pulled out slowly, Xiaoting catching her breath because of such a heated kiss initiated by you and god, what an incredible it is to see her pussy full of your cum, and some of it dripping and onto the sheets they stain—you suppose you would need a new mattress considering how much she spurted ner nectar all over the place and maybe, that would be the case.

“Ohh, it’s s-so much, daddy…” Xiaoting moans in satisfaction as she can feel the warmness of your seed that fills every inch of her velvety walls, and some are even seeping out of her lips. She took this as an opportunity to scoop out a sample and tasted it and as expected, she was delighted to let her taste buds orchestrate the final verdict of its delectability. “It’s salty and sweet—I love it, daddy…”

You smile because of her satisfaction being voiced out verbally, and with that, it makes you feel that everything was worth both your whiles and there’s nothing you could ask for more when it’s already been fulfilled.

“You felt so good, baby and—” You caressed Xiaoting’s cheeks and looked at her endearingly again, feeling affectionate and thankful with the greatness she's bestowed you and being such a good girl for you. “—glad you loved me filling you up.”

“I love your harshness too, daddy—everything is just perfect…” It’s a little surprising that she can still articulate words that she shouldn’t but she got stamina for days so her recovery would be pretty quick. You know the night’s getting older but you know there’s more ways to enjoy everything you could think of but for now, a good night’s rest would not be bad as you can feel your drowsiness slowly taking over you until—

*notification pops up*

Yujin’s gonna see you tomorrow and you’re fucked up…

Well, was this all a mistake? You’d consider this as one but maybe this won’t be and all you can do is to prepare onto something that’s the last thing you want to deal with—her.

[wqnwoos]

joshua hong breaks your heart three and a half times before you can even reach nineteen, and yet you can’t stop loving him with the pieces that remain.

i. the first time ; when you meet

the story of you and joshua starts at the beginning, which sounds pretty redundant, but it’s the beginning in more may than one. the beginning of friendship — the beginning of freshman year — the beginning of something bigger than two fourteen year olds can imagine.

it starts, as you say, at the onset of freshman year. you’re nervous — extra nervous because these kids went to the same middle school, and you’re the stranger, the outsider, the transfer student who nobody knows yet. it’s obvious in the way they talk to each other; gossipping about unfamiliar names, inside jokes only they understand.

and so homeroom begins with ice breakers, and it turns out that you and someone named joshua hong have the same favourite colour and you both like horror movies, and that’s enough for you to think to yourself, that one. i want to be friends with that one.

for a moment, it seems like that sentiment is mirrored. when lunch is called, and you’re stuck in the corner of the canteen, eating lunch alone, joshua hong appears to your side, holding his tray. he smiles at you first, and when he speaks, he speaks softly; you like him instantly, especially when he gets your name right first try, and talks to you about the horror movies you like.

unfortunately, your conversation lasts about five minutes; it’s interrupted by joshua’s actual friends, waving from another table, yelling for him to come join their arm wrestling competition, and someone wants his chocolate milk, and, and, and — because of course, joshua is popular.

he’s also incredibly polite, for a fourteen year old boy, looking between you and his table, eyes torn, mouth twisting. but you make the decision for him; you stuff the last of your food in your mouth — it tastes like cardboard — and you gesture for him to leave, saying, through a dry mouthful, “i’m done anyway, go ahead!”

he leaves then, sending an apologetic smile you pretend not to see. you won’t be pitied, not even by popular guys with nice smiles. but when you walk out the cafeteria, as alone as you were when you walked into it, your silly, young little heart does break a little.

and then it’s glued back together by clumsy fingers the next day. joshua’s in the cafeteria before you, and this time, he waves you over to his table, patting the seat next to him. he introduces you to his friends, who are nice and sweet and funny, and you do like them, you just like joshua that extra little bit more.

ii. the second time ; when you fall, suddenly, completely, absolutely.

by the time junior year rolls around, you and joshua are joined at the hip.

you do everything together. you’re at his house more than your own; his mom calls you the second child she never had; your mom calls him by his nickname; you know his deepest darkest secret, and he knows yours; he’s your favourite person in the world, and as teenagers are apt to do, you’d never willingly tell him such a thing.

“you’re disgusting,” you tell him, whenever he belches, unashamed, on your couch after a horror movie marathon. “you’re the worst!” when he tickles you within an inch of your life, rolling onto the floor with you in a mad tangle of limbs and giggling. “i hate you,” with a smile on your face, when he teases you about a crush or pinches your nose a little too hard.

“you love me,” is always his response — easy, carefree, and the l-word rolls off his tongue so confidently, sometimes you wonder how he does it. but you do love him. as a friend, of course, and nothing more, despite what other people say. at school, people think you’re together — people pull you aside in the locker room, giggling like they’re in on your secret (“so, you like like him, right?”) and nobody believes you guys when you deny it.

“it’s not like that,” you find yourself saying over and over, until it feels like the words are tattooed on your tongue. “he’s just josh, you know?” and he is. he’s just your joshua. nothing more, nothing less, he’s just your person — your best friend.

you manage to convince yourself as well, with those repetitive words, until one day, you find out you can’t.

it’s a sunday, and so of course, he’s singing sunday morning as the two of you stroll down to the park, hands stuffed in your respective pockets. it’s late september, but the dregs of summer are lingering longer this year, and the two of you are drinking them up before autumn rolls around, and strips the greenery bare.

“your obsession with that song needs to be studied,” you say, and it comes easily because you haven’t realised yet.

“your brain needs to be studied,” is his quick retort, as you guys make it to your usual spot.

it’s nothing special, this spot — to an outsider, at least. it’s a crumbling wall to the side of the park, that overlooks a pond (an ugly, swampy looking pond, but a pond nonetheless).

to you and joshua, the deteriorating wall is your Place, with a capital p, because that’s how important it’s become to the two of you. it’s simply. a little bit ugly, but who cares, when you have your whole life stretching in front of you, a wall to sit on, and a best friend to argue over the red gummies with?

“there are five red gummies,” he pronounces, peering inside the pack. “i call dibs on the third!”

“what?” your voice raises automatically. “absolutely not. you had the third one last time.”

“last time there were six!”

“that’s so not fair!” you poke his rib, scowling. “we’ll split it. for justice.”

joshua sighs, long and reluctant, but nods, setting the packet between you — but moments later, when you’ve spiralled down a tangent of cursing out your physics teacher, he swipes down on the third, stuffing it in his mouth with a triumphant, guiltless grin before you can even say stop.

“you’re evil,” you say, slow and shocked, narrowing your eyes at him. “you’re actually fucking evil!”

“sorry,” he says, without the slightest hint of remorse.

“i hate you.” and again, you’re smiling — and so is he, throwing his head back to laugh (because the thought of you hating him is so ridiculous that he has to laugh), and his darn eyes catch the afternoon sunlight at just the right angle, twin pools of honey brown, and you’re drowning in them; and his laughter sounds like music, and his hair’s blowing back in the breeze, and the lines of his face are lighting up golden; and oh, fuck, you’ve forgotten how to breathe.

“you love me,” he says, normally, casually, his ordinary response, but it feels like he’s plucked the sentence straight out your mind, where it had been nothing more than a half-formed sentiment you’d pushed into the corner.

cheeseballs, you think to yourself, breathless, stomach sinking, eyes wide. i think he’s right.

i think i love him, your fifteen year old self thinks, and then your fifteen year old self’s heart breaks.

it’s more painful than the first time. much more.

iii. the third time ; when he leaves (because you push him out the door)

the third time is not like the others. you can’t pinpoint a specific moment; it happens gradually. less of a shattering — more of a slow crushing, like joshua is pressing down on the centre of your chest, slow, heavy, and completely unaware of how blood is spurting from the cracks of your heart.

because he doesn’t know — of course he doesn’t know. and he can’t know now, now that the two of you, as a unit, have become past tense.

you can barely call himself your friend anymore, and it’s entirely your fault.

not even a month after that fateful day in junior year, joshua had gotten himself a girlfriend. and she wasn’t mean and you couldn’t hate her even if you wanted to, she was the sweetest person alive, and had no problem with you; but still, that step did mean other things, like backing off joshua a little. there was another priority in his life now.

they only lasted three months, but it felt significant. it felt like a sign — he’s not yours, he can never be yours, and so even after emily benson and joshua broke up, you kept your distance. then he joined the football team, with seungcheol and mingyu and those guys, and you joined the photography club with wonwoo and seokmin and those guys, and there was suddenly this divide. a line drawn; you were the artist.

because joshua did try, and he definitely tried more than you. he’d invite you over to his house for movie marathons, and you’d decline. he’d wave at you from across the football pitch, and you’d pretend not to see.

you only see his mom in the supermarket now. she still hugs you, calls you her other child. you don’t know what to say to her.

it is, technically, your own fault. self-preservation instincts; because being around joshua hurt like a bitch after that sunday. there was an ache in your heart you’d somehow not noticed for two years, but now that you’d noticed it once, it was there always, a permanent throbbing pain in your chest.

you think of it as losing your heart; you’d given it to joshua without even realising, and he hasn’t realised either. and so the hot, slippery organ is left in his hands, and you don’t know how to get it back.

senior year comes, and it’s clear to everyone that there is no longer a you and joshua. sometimes you get questions about it; “did you guys fight?”, “what even happened? was it emily?”, “did he cheat on you?”, and you answer them all wearily with a smiling front.

just drifted apart, i guess, you always say, paired with a nonchalant shrug, like it doesn’t kill you a little every time you see him.

you wonder what he says, when they ask him. if they even ask him at all.

iii.v half broken, half mended

joshua shows up at your house.

it’s the night before graduation, and if it were a movie, it would be raining when he knocks on your door — but it’s still warm, there’s still faint sunlight behind him, and he’s panting slightly on your doorstep, eyes wide with something you don’t have the time to read before he’s rushing out words, garbled with speed.

you’ve just woken from a nap, and you don’t understand a word he’s saying; you hear a whole lot of “we” and “friends” and before he can get any further, you raise a hand to stop him.

“what — what are you talking about, shua?” you question genuinely, rubbing your sleepy eyes as though this is some sort of twisted dream.

joshua lets out a breath on your doorstep; he looks harried, panicked, like if he doesn’t say everything he needs to, he’s going to explode. but he holds back, inhaling, exhaling, suddenly short of breath at the sight of you, up close after what feels like forever.

“where did you go?” he says finally, and you can hear fifteen year old shua in there, a crack in his voice, emotion leaking into it.

you know what he means, you know exactly what he means, and you don’t have an answer for him. “i didn’t go anywhere,” you reply, voice small. you don’t look at him, because both of you know it’s a lie.

“you did,” he repeats needlessly. “it felt like you left me.”

you don’t have anything to say, and so you stay silent. there are birds chirping, you realise absently, somewhere behind him.

“was there a reason?” his words are growing quicker now, spilling out of him like they’re overflowing; and maybe they are, maybe he’s kept them locked up just as long as you have. “there must have been a reason — you need to tell me, i deserve to know. don’t i?”

his voice is tinged with a sort of raw desperation that pulls at your heart, because no matter how hard you try to convince yourself otherwise, he’s still your shua, he’s still your person, and you can never hate him.

he deserves to know, and you’re too cowardly to tell him.

joshua waits. (he’s always been the more patient out of you two.) “you won’t tell me,” he realises finally, stepping back just once. “god. fuck. i don’t even know why i came.”

he turns, and you blurt three words that halt him in his tracks. you see the way he freezes on the spot, and so you repeat them again, just so he can be sure.

“i love you,” you say, softly, but he hears you. he hears you and turns around, and his pretty doe eyes are round with confusion.

you don’t realise you’re crying until he wipes away the few that have spilled oit the corners of your eyes; he does it delicately, with hands that tremble a little. they’re unfamiliar in their familiarity, those hands, and the feel of them makes you close your eyes.

both of you are breathing shakily. like you’re on the cusp of something new; something bigger.

“how long?” he asks quietly, hands trailing down to cup your cheeks.

you don’t open your eyes when you speak your next words, pouring from your mouth into the space between you. “since we were fifteen.”

joshua’s quiet for a moment, and when you open your eyes, there’s a ghost of a smile playing on his lips, and the ghost of tears filling his eyes. “haha,” he whispers, leaning closer, “i win.” his lips brush against yours, so light and feathery it could barely be called a kiss.

he pulls back, forehead against yours, and smiles, properly this time. “since fourteen,” he says, and it feels like your heart is mended and broken at the same time.

an / typed this out in an hour of feverish inspiration. idk. 💪

taglist: @n4mj00nvq @eoieopda @som1ig @glowunderthemoon @wondering-out-loud @graybaeismytae @hannyoontify @sahazzy @dokyeomin @icyminghao @smilehui @nicholasluvbot @lvlystars @immabecreepin @hanniehaee @kokoiinuts @astrozuya

[librababe99]

Weathering the Storm

A/N: Hey Y’all! So I’ve always been someone who lurks, reblogs and enjoys the work that others put out on Tumblr. I have attempted to write things in the past but end up keeping it to myself or scrap the idea altogether— BUT after watching Deadpool and Wolverine my love for those two has hit me hard!  Anyways, here’s a little angsty blurb I wrote for Logan. 

Please let me know what you think! I'm open to suggestions and comments!

- Libra ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:*

Warnings: None.  Word Count: 620

The rain pounds against the window, a relentless downpour that mirrors the storm brewing inside you. You sit on the edge of the bed, arms wrapped around yourself, trying to hold it together. But it’s hard. It’s so damn hard when everything feels like it’s falling apart.

Logan is pacing the room, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. You can see the tension in his muscles, the barely contained fury that radiates off him in waves. He hasn’t looked at you since the argument started—since the words that neither of you can take back were thrown like daggers.

“Logan,” you finally say, your voice breaking the heavy silence. He stops but doesn’t turn to face you. His shoulders rise and fall with each breath, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s even listening.

But then he speaks, his voice rough and edged with pain. “I can’t keep doin’ this,” he mutters, the words barely audible over the rain. “Every time… it’s like I’m losing you a little more.”

Your heart clenches at the raw emotion in his tone, and you stand, taking a hesitant step toward him. “You’re not losing me,” you say, though the crack in your voice betrays your own doubt. “I’m right here.”

He finally turns to look at you, his eyes shadowed with something that makes your breath catch. There’s anger there, yes, but beneath it, there’s something deeper—something broken. “But for how long?” he asks, his voice rough with a vulnerability he rarely shows. “How long before you walk away? Before you decide you can’t handle bein’ with a guy like me?”

The accusation stings because it’s not entirely unfounded. You’ve both been through hell, and sometimes the weight of it all feels like too much. But the thought of leaving him? Of walking away from the only person who truly understands you? That’s a pain you can’t bear to even consider.

“I’m not leaving you, Logan,” you insist, your voice trembling. “I—” You swallow hard, trying to find the right words. “I’m scared, okay? Scared that one day I’ll wake up and you’ll be gone. That something will happen, and I won’t be able to stop it. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with you. I just… I don’t know how to deal with this.”

He’s silent for a long moment, his gaze piercing as he studies you. Then, with a heavy sigh, he steps forward, closing the distance between you. His hand reaches up, his rough fingers brushing your cheek. “You’re not gonna lose me, darlin’,” he murmurs, the anger in his voice replaced by something softer, something laced with the same fear you feel. “But I can’t keep fightin’ this battle alone. We’re in this together, or we’re not in it at all.”

His words hang in the air, a challenge and a plea all at once. You meet his gaze, feeling the weight of the decision before you. It would be easy to walk away, to let the fear and doubt win. But as you look into Logan’s eyes, you realize that leaving him would hurt more than anything else ever could.

Taking a deep breath, you place your hand over his. “We’re in this together,” you whisper, the resolve in your voice stronger now. “No matter what.”

For a moment, the tension between you lingers, but then Logan pulls you into his arms, holding you tight as if afraid you might slip away. You bury your face in his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart against yours. The storm outside rages on, but in Logan’s embrace, you find a sliver of peace—a promise that, despite the darkness, you’ll face whatever comes together.

[starsjulia]

perfect just the way you are // leah williamson

leah williamson x neurodivergent reader

a/n : i’m literally editing and uploading all my drafts because im on a writing grind, please feel free to send requests! also this is not an accurate representation of neuroscience, this is just one of the ways i experience it!!

warnings : none really! just comfort

Leah Williamson had always been known for her steady presence, the kind of calm that could anchor an entire team even in the most intense moments. She was the one you could rely on to keep a cool head, to make the right decisions under pressure, and to maintain a certain level of detachment that kept her focused on the game. But when it came to Y/N, all of that went out the window.

Y/N was different. She wasn’t the kind of person who faded into the background or followed the crowd. Her mind was a kaleidoscope of interests and ideas, always buzzing with energy. It wasn’t uncommon for her to launch into a discussion about the migration patterns of monarch butterflies in the middle of dinner or to suddenly start wondering aloud about the physics of time travel while walking through a park. Y/N’s quirks made her endearing to those who knew her well, but they could also make her stand out in ways that weren’t always easy.

One evening, the Arsenal girls were out celebrating a hard-fought win at a cozy restaurant in town. Leah had invited Y/N along, as she always did, eager to have her by her side during the rare moments of relaxation they all shared. Y/N had been excited, rambling on about a new documentary she’d watched on ancient civilizations as they made their way to the restaurant.

The team had gathered around a long table, laughter and chatter filling the room. Y/N was seated next to Leah, as always, with Katie McCabe and Alessia Russo across from them. Y/N was her usual vibrant self, animatedly discussing the concept of time in different cultures with Alessia, who was doing her best to keep up.

“So, in ancient Egypt,” Y/N began, her hands moving as she spoke, “time was seen as this cyclical thing, not linear like we think of it today. They believed that everything was part of this ongoing cycle, which is why their rituals were so important—”

Alessia, though genuinely interested, was starting to get a little overwhelmed by the sheer amount of information. She was about to respond when Beth Mead, who was seated a few spots down, cut in with a lighthearted, but careless comment.

“Y/N, do you ever talk about anything normal?” Beth said, her tone teasing, tough Y/N sometimes had difficulty differentiating tones.

The words hung in the air for a moment, and the table went quiet. Y/N’s face fell, the light in her eyes dimming as she processed what had been said. She tried to hide it, but Leah saw the hurt flash across her features.

Leah’s expression hardened almost immediately. She knew Beth hadn’t meant any harm—Beth was like that sometimes, saying things without thinking—but that didn’t make it any less painful for Y/N. Leah felt a surge of protectiveness rise up within her, a need to shield Y/N from any hurt, intentional or not.

“Beth,” Leah’s voice was calm, but there was a steely edge to it that made everyone at the table look up. “That wasn’t necessary.”

Beth blinked, realizing too late that her comment had hit a nerve. “Oh, Y/N, I didn’t mean it like that,” she said quickly, her tone apologetic. “I just—”

But Y/N was already pulling back into herself, her earlier enthusiasm snuffed out like a candle in the wind. She offered a small, strained smile, brushing it off. “No, it’s fine. I know I can be a bit… much sometimes.”

Leah felt her heart clench at the words. She hated hearing Y/N talk about herself like that, as though her passions and quirks were something to apologize for. Without a second thought, Leah slid her chair closer to Y/N, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into a comforting embrace.

“You’re not too much,” Leah whispered into her ear, her voice soft and reassuring. “You’re perfect, just the way you are.”

Y/N leaned into Leah’s side, the tension in her body slowly easing as she took comfort in Leah’s presence. “Really?” she asked, her voice small, filled with the vulnerability she so rarely let show.

“Really,” Leah confirmed, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. “I love the way your mind works, the way you see the world. It’s one of the things I love most about you.”

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears, though she quickly blinked them away, not wanting to make a scene. “I just… I never want to embarrass you.”

Leah’s expression softened, her hand gently cupping Y/N’s cheek as she turned her to face her. “You could never embarrass me. You’re the most incredible person I know, and I’m so proud of you—of everything that makes you who you are. Don’t ever let anyone make you feel like you need to change, least of all yourself.”

Y/N looked into Leah’s eyes, seeing nothing but sincerity and love reflected back at her. It was a balm to the wound that Beth’s accidental, careless words had opened, and she felt a wave of gratitude wash over her. Leah always knew how to make her feel seen, understood, and cherished in a way that no one else ever had.

Katie, who had been watching the exchange with a guilty look, leaned over and nudged Beth, who was still looking mortified. “Apologize properly,” Katie whispered, her tone gentle but firm.

Beth nodded, her earlier bravado replaced with genuine remorse. “Y/N, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I was just being a bit of an idiot.”

Y/N gave her a small, forgiving smile. “It’s okay, Beth. I know you didn’t mean it. I just… I get excited about things sometimes.”

Beth smiled back, relieved. “We all love that about you, Y/N. Keep being you, yeah?”

Y/N nodded, her spirits lifting slightly as the atmosphere around the table relaxed once more. Leah kept her arm around her, though, not letting go until she was sure Y/N was truly okay.

The rest of the evening passed without incident, the conversation flowing more naturally now that everyone was a bit more mindful. Leah stayed close to Y/N, making sure she felt supported and included, even as the topics shifted to more mundane matters.

Later, as they walked back to Leah’s place, Y/N was quieter than usual, her thoughts still lingering on what had happened. Leah noticed, of course—she always noticed.

“Hey,” Leah said softly, stopping in her tracks and turning to face Y/N. “You alright?”

Y/N shrugged, her eyes downcast. “I just… I don’t want people to think I’m weird, you know? I know I can be intense, and sometimes I worry that people just tolerate me because they have to.”

Leah’s heart ached at the vulnerability in Y/N’s voice. She took Y/N’s hands in hers, squeezing them gently. “You’re not weird, and people don’t just tolerate you. They care about you, Y/N. You bring something special to every room you walk into. Don’t ever doubt that.”

Y/N looked up at her, her eyes searching Leah’s for any sign of doubt. But all she saw was unwavering love and support, and it made her heart swell with emotion.

“You really think so?” Y/N asked, her voice barely above a whisper, uncertainty flickering in her gaze.

Leah nodded, her expression soft but resolute. “I do, Y/N. I think the world of you, and so do the others. Your mind, your heart, everything that makes you who you are—it’s all incredible to me.”

Y/N looked down at their joined hands, her thoughts swirling. “Sometimes it just feels like I’m too much. Like… people don’t really get me, and I’m just annoying them with the way I am.”

Leah’s grip on Y/N’s hands tightened, a surge of protectiveness washing over her. “I know it can feel like that sometimes, but I promise you, it’s not true. You’re not too much, Y/N. You’re exactly enough, exactly who you’re supposed to be. And anyone who doesn’t see that—well, they’re missing out on something amazing.”

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears again, but this time they were tears of relief, of gratitude. She felt the weight of her insecurities lifting, bit by bit, as Leah’s words sank in. “But what if… what if I’m too much for you?”

Leah’s heart broke at the vulnerability in Y/N’s voice. She reached up, gently cupping Y/N’s face in her hands, forcing her to meet her gaze. “You could never be too much for me, Y/N. I love every part of you. Your energy, your passion, the way you light up when you talk about something that excites you—I love all of it. You make my life brighter just by being in it.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, her hands trembling slightly as she absorbed Leah’s words. “I just… I don’t want to be a burden to you. I don’t want you to feel like you have to take care of me all the time.”

Leah shook her head, her thumbs brushing away the tears that had begun to fall. “You’re not a burden, not in the slightest. Being with you, caring for you, loving you—it’s the greatest privilege of my life. I want to be there for you, Y/N, in every way I can. Because that’s what love is. It’s about being there for each other, lifting each other up, and making sure we both feel safe and cherished.”

Y/N sniffled, a small, tentative smile starting to form on her lips. “You make me feel that way, Leah. You make me feel like I’m… enough.”

“You are more than enough,” Leah whispered, her voice thick with emotion. She leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to Y/N’s forehead, letting her lips linger there as she spoke. “You’re everything to me. And I’ll spend every day reminding you of that, if that’s what it takes.”

Y/N closed her eyes, letting the warmth of Leah’s words and touch envelop her. She felt the last of her doubts melting away, replaced by a deep sense of security and love. Leah had always been her rock, her safe place, and in moments like this, she knew there was nothing they couldn’t face together.

“I love you so much,” Y/N whispered, her voice barely audible, but filled with all the emotion she felt in her heart.

Leah pulled back just enough to look into Y/N’s eyes, her own gaze filled with tenderness. “And I love you, Y/N. More than you’ll ever know.”

For a moment, they just stood there, wrapped up in each other, the world around them fading into the background. There was nothing but the sound of their breathing, the feel of their hands intertwined, and the steady, comforting beat of their hearts.

Eventually, Leah broke the silence, her voice soft but firm. “You know what I think?”

Y/N tilted her head slightly, curiosity piqued. “What?”

Leah smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair behind Y/N’s ear. “I think you’re one of the most extraordinary people I’ve ever met. And I’m not just saying that because I love you. I’m saying it because it’s true. You see the world in ways most people can’t even begin to understand, and that’s a gift. Don’t ever let anyone make you feel like you need to dim that light.”

Y/N’s heart swelled with emotion, her earlier doubts fading into the background as Leah’s words wrapped around her like a warm blanket. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “Thank you for loving me like this.”

Leah’s smile widened, her eyes shining with affection. “I’m the one who’s thankful, Y/N. Thankful that I get to love you, that I get to be the person by your side. I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”

Y/N felt a deep sense of peace settle over her, the kind that came from knowing she was truly loved for who she was. With Leah by her side, she felt like she could face anything the world threw at her. Because Leah wasn’t just her partner—she was her safe place, her anchor, and the person who made her feel like she was perfect just the way she was.

[so-i-did-this-thing]

Hey so, maybe an odd question, but did you feel like a different person when you started T? I’m a trans guy and am trying to figure out weather I want to do hormones. A lot of the physical effects sound really great, but I’m kind of scared of what it might do to me mentally. A friend of mine has to take it for medical purposes and he absolutely HATES it. He feels like it turns him into an entirely different person that he hates being and completely destroys his capacity for creativity or emotions of any kind. This can’t be everybody’s experience right?

Heya! Answering this on public for folks to chime in with their own personal anecdotes. (Including bad emotional effects - let's be respectful that not everyone has a great HRT experience. I'd imagine each of us struggles with something we don't like about T.)

Testosterone took the edges off my negative emotions. I stopped frustration crying nearly overnight and got a lot less irritable. My explosive temper went down to a low simmer. I suddenly felt like I had patience for the first time in my life. I don't have as many autistic meltdowns now, and when they do happen, it's more me pacing in circles than breaking something.

I still feel emotions like sadness, but it's harder to physically cry. I haven't noticed any changes to my creativity. I feel happier, but that has more to do with not being closeted anymore.

I'm definitely hornier on T, and that sometimes converts into irritability, something I can control with mindful behavior.

What can shock some trans folks is that HRT won't solve all your mental problems. Testosterone has not helped my Depression that's unrelated to gender dysphoria, so I still battle with cycles of wretched ennui. It also hasn't helped my ADHD, and I sometimes wonder if it's even made me a bit more forgetful. That said, HRT removed a ton of background radiation in my life to where I am now better equipped to deal with my mental illnesses.

Even though my experience has been overwhelmingly positive, I have had a few trans masc folks tell me that they felt like T deadened their emotions in an unpleasant way. The odds are in your favor, but it sucks if you're the one who gets bad results. But I would imagine that your emotions would recalibrate once you'd stop HRT.

But overall, I felt like I was trapped in teenage-level emotional turmoil well into my 30s (when I transitioned), and T makes me feel like an even-keeled adult. I am the same person as before, but a better version of that person.

I hope that helps. When considering HRT, it's important to remember that you can just try it out and stop if you don't like it. There will be tradeoffs, both permanent and reversible, so learning about those will definitely help in your decision here. But you have a lot of control here, especially when you jump in aware.

If you go for it, keep a mood journal and make it a topic to discuss with a therapist or other trans folks. Wishing you all the best!

[ayekittyk4t]

pollinate

pairing: plug eren x afab reader

desc: you always make decision with eren that are on a whim. whether it’s him taking you to get a tattoo or him filming you, it’s never a normal routine.

content warning: established relationship, tattoos, needles, petnames ( princess, baby, etc…), a little dry humping, filming, oral sex (male receiving), hair pulling, spit, one slap on da face, lmk if i’m missing any lol

an: y’all this a lil rusty but it’s okay i guess. i had to oil up this rusty ol machine, but i hope y’all enjoy. more plug eren and reader to come. even tho this really didn’t have anything to do with him being a plug. it’s just part of the series/ collections idk. take it as you will.

sometimes, you think about some decisions you’ve made and wonder how stupid they were. you’d lay there, dealing with the consequences of your actions and repeating what may have been the alternative route. all the what if’s that would’ve been your reality. however, now that you’ve made that decision, all you could do was think about such things. and at this very moment in time, you’re laying with a very permanent decision.

eren had said you’re a baby for whining. but he had plenty of tattoos in various places, so his word didn’t matter to you. you do suppose that this was your decision after all, so you sit with the pain with your eyes screwed shut. that is what you were repeating in your head as you fought through the last few minutes of your tattoo session.

a lotus flower. eren had once said you were his lotus flower. you had no idea what if meant, but it had stuck with you. he said that you were a beautiful lotus flower on a bright green lily pad, sitting on calm water. he’d say this to you once in a while. and on whim, you decided to get it tattooed on you tonight. right on your sternum.

what a bad decision, because you were in a lot a fucking pain.

“awe, my princess is a little weak.” eren teased, petting your head to calm you down. you opened your eyes, squinting from the bright tattoo studio lights and looked at him with annoyance. from where you were laying and where he was behind you, his big smile almost looked like a frown. you know eren all too well though, he’d never frown in your pain. more so smile in a peculiar pleasure.

the constant puncturing of the small needles in your skin had been a pain. along with the buzzing of the tattoo gun. your head began to throb, so you shut your eyes. eren noticed, seeing how your jaw clenched and the way you swallowed hard. and despite finding a freakish pleasure in your pain, his heart tinged with pain of his own. with that, he moved his fingers to your temples and started messaging them. instantly, you felt calm.

“you’ll be fine, (y/n).” he says low and smoothly.

“yea, because you done.” mikasa said excitedly as she turned off the machine.

you opened your eyes to be directly looking into erens. he smiled big, his canines peeking through. his hands then fall to the side and you’re already missing his touch.

the table you’ve now laid on for god knows how long begins to fuel your discomfort. you wiggle around a bit, lifting you hips to stretch. mikasa let’s you know to stay put as she cleans you up and applies the second skin to avoid any infections.

“you’re all done.” she exclaims with a big smile as she clasps her hands together in excitement.

upon those words, you sit up, zipping your sweater up just enough to leave some room to look at the lotus in the mirror. feeling somewhat lightheaded, you stumble a bit as you hop off the table. eren grabs a hold of your arm, saving you from a fall and hold you close to him. looking up at him, you smile as he leads you to the mirror.

standing in front of the mirror, you inspect the permanent flower on your body. mikasa captured you vision well, and you were so happy about it.

“you look beautiful, baby.” eren says, standing behind you. you smile to him in approval through the reflection of the mirror.

-

the candlelight flickered, soothing your heavy eyes to shut and fall to sleep. you’re tired, using eren chest as a pillow. you listened to his heartbeat and inhaled his scent. it soothed you even more.

then you do it again, inhaling louder. your stomach caves in from how deep you took in erens scent. holding your breath for a bit, you breathe out with a low hum.

“what are you doing?” he chuckles, looking down at where your head rested.

you shoot up, lifting yourself from your comfort, “i’m addicted to the way you smell.”

“you’re fucking insane.”

rolling your eyes, you sit up. unzipping your sweater to take a look at the new ink on your skin. you couldn’t stop looking at it. admiring it. showing it off every few minutes. you felt tough. this pain was nothing, you thought. you could get a ton of tattoos now.

“will you take a picture for me?” you say suddenly, looking at him with doe like eyes. maybe part of you knew eren wouldn’t want to due to the placement of the tattoo. but you’d thought it’d be different since you’ve been dating for a while, and he always took pictures of you.

he was your personal photographer after all.

eren squints his eyes at you, his tongue poking at his cheek, “why?”

“because i want to post it.”

“for who?”

your mouth drops, and you match his judging gaze, “for all the other men who want me besides you.” the attitude is apparent in your tone as you rolled your eyes dramatically.

“watch your tone.” he’s no longer squinting his eyes, his brows are now furrowed and he spoke with a slight irritation in his voice.

“for me. who else?” you poke his forehead, and eren shoos you hand away.

you catch onto his attitude, realizing he’s not playing around anymore. it wasn’t a joke to him. he was somewhat a bit upset at you. this always happened. eren is short tempered, but you’re patient for him. all you could roll your eyes, again, and move on with your night.

“fine,” you sit up, grabbing your phone off the side table by your bed. “i’ll take if myself-”

just as you were about to get off your bed, eren wraps his arms around you and pulls you onto him.

“hey,” you scramble a bit and get up, acting as if this wasn’t a normal occurrence with eren. but it was.

“don’t worry about it, baby. i’ll take them for you.” he grabs a hold to your phone in your hand, his other hand gripping to your waist and squeezing.

you frown at him, “i’m sorry. c’mon, let me take those picture for you.” he’s sitting up, resting his back again the headboard. you squeeze your thighs around him, trying not to tip over.

“you sure?”

“yes.” he said lowly, his eyes shifting from yours to your body. your cheeks heat up once he looks at you. no matter how long you’ve been with eren, you never stop to get nervous around him.

you feel his hands inch up and down, thumbs pressing circles into your stomach. he looks back into your eyes, and you blink like the flustered girl you were. he begins to unzip your sweater, covering you just enough so your chest wasn’t showing. eren pushes the sweater a little off your shoulders and you shift you hips a bit. you feel him harden below you.

with the phone still in hand, eren unlocks your phone to take a photo.

you straighten up, arch your back and lift your hips a little. click. he take the photo. resting back down into erens lap, you whimper as his hard on makes contact with your clit. he groans quietly, lifting his hips to hit that spot again.

“no, one more picture. i want a a lot to choose from.” your placing your hands on his stomach, pushing him into the bed and leaning forward. click.

“smile.” he laughs a little, watching you blush once again and snaps more pictures.

“take nice ones, eren.”

“i am, baby.” he shifts your phone to your face and you hear your phone ding, letting you know your being recorded.

“hey!” you whine, pushing the phone, “stop playing.”

“i’m getting impatient, princess.” he groans, eyes shifting to his hard cock. “you keep teasing me.”

erens tone gets a bit whiny. though, you should be slightly annoyed, you fun pleasure in this. the way his gaze on you is now hungry, but you’re in control. and the way he groans when you rub yourself on him and he’s thrusting up for more.

you’re stomach bubbled in anticipation. you wanted to keep going for your own pleasure, but something about seeing eren whine and beg for it excited you. you felt your cunt throb. this would be new.

dropping the sweater off your shoulders, you expose your tits to him, nipples hardening from the cool breeze of the night. he reaches out to squeeze your tit, grab his hand and place it back to your hip. the phone still in his hand recording.

“c’mon, princess. let me touch you.” he whines, lips quivering.

you smile, not saying a word but instead rocking your hips against eren. dragging your clothed cunt against his cock foward feverishly, and moving back slowly. you continue this for a while, fast then slow. teasing eren and yourself. letting out soft whimpers while doing so.

then, you stop. you lift your lips away from eren and all his pleasure is gone. he thrust his hips in the air trying to find satisfaction in that. but it’s useless.

looking at eren, you see he’s holding the phone to the sealing. reaching out, you adjust it just enough so you’d be in the view. you lower yourself on the bed, hooking your dainty fingers on the waist band of his pajama pants and pulling them down. as your free his cock, he groans as it slaps against his stomach. you shove two fingers in your mouth, letting spit drip down them to moisten his length. thick and long, his tip leaking precum. you spread your spit around the tip, wrapping your hands around him and stroking. with your free hand you, play with his balls.

“fuckin-”

eren is cut off as he feels your wet tongue drag along the length of his cock. you swirl your tongue on the tip before wrapping your plump lips around it, then he feels the warmth of you mouth take the entirety of his cock. slowly, teasingly, he feels you inch down to the base. your nose shoved up against him. you look at him and hallow your cheeks.

he looks down at you, and moans lewdly. teeth grinding, sucking in deep breaths, brows furrowed and cheeks blushing. the grip on your phone he has as tight, the white of his knuckles peeped through.

he huffed and frowned. your hair was covering your perfect face. with his free hand, he moved the hair out of your face, wrapping his hands enough to tug you back a bit. you let his cock slip out of your mouth, a sting of saliva connected you to him drips down your chin.

“don’t drop the goddamn phone.” you spat out, more salivia slipping past your mouth. you lick your lips and swallow hard.

god, you’re so fuckin’ messy.

“never, baby.” he rasps, tugging on your hair once again. you moan at that. it hurt so good that you felt slick drip from your cunt.

at that, you spit again on him, taking him back in your mouth. he hits the back of your throat and it stings, but it brings you bliss. shutting your eyes, you bob your head against him, sucking hard once you get to his tip. your fast, no longer teasing him. you had a goal and that was for him to spill inside you.

your hands moved at the same speed as your mouth. filled with your spit and his own precum, the slick just added to his pleasure. eren loved your messiness when you sucked his cock.

“so fucking good, princess.” eren says through his teeth.

you look at him, his hair dishealved and almost out of its tight little bun. he’s so close. his chest is rising and falling, and his breath is shaky. you only speed up noticing this, looking him in the eyes. taking him in fast, hallowing your cheeks harder and adding more pressure on tongue as you reach his cockhead.

“ah fuck-, fuck baby.” he thrusting his hips into you mouth, his cock hitting the back of your throat. you gag, but inhale deeply through your nose and continue to reach your goal.

and in seconds a thick, warmth fills your mouth. eren groans loudly thrusting his hips so you get every last drop of his cum in your mouth. that salty, thick liquid coats your mouth. you release his cock from your mouth, pursing your lips together and swallowing hard. he’s a mess, chest rising and falling. you and him are warn down, but you take it into you hands to clean him up.

you lick your spit off the length of his cock and take his tip in your mouth on last time. you suck hard, releasing it with a pop. eren looks at you with a lust filled gaze.

“let me see.” he’s referring to his cum. he wanted you to take it all. eren releases his hand from your hair and grips onto your chin. he squeezes your cheeks and moves the phone to record the inside of your mouth. you stick your tongue out to prove you swallowed it all.

“good fuckin’ girl.” he gives you a small smack on your cheek in approval.

“now show the camera your pretty little tattoo.”

you listen quickly, sitting up above eren. the bed squeaks from your quick movements. you feel the slick between your legs drip down your thighs. eren moved the camera back onto your chest, he’s running a hand up to your chest and squeezes your tit. you didn’t care if he was touching you now. his touch ignited something in you. it always did. either way, you broke him down just a bit. at least for today.

“that’s my slutty princess.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Just One Reason: A Wonderful Winter Time

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Lloyd Hansen

masterlist - to be added

Summary: A chance encounter at the sandwich shop doesn’t end how you expect.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

'❄️IT'S SNOWING!❄️' 

You hit send and put the phone down. You glance through the window on the other side of your desk and smile. You have it all set up so your heavy laptop doesn't block out the scenery, though it's just the alleyway.

The suite in the building across from yours usually has a rich array of flowers on the summer. And the sun hits nicely at a certain time of day and almost illuminates the brick. 

The whole desk buzzes and you read the response. Lloyd almost makes you laugh with only a '😿'. He used to tease you for all your emojis but now you find yourself trying to decipher his use of them. Sometimes he doesn't make much sense. He is a funny guy. 

You pick up your phone and take a picture out the window of how the powder starts to pile on the railing across from you. You hit send and add a follow-up, 'so prettttty.' 

You smile as you peer out again. Another swell of nostalgia floods through you then rolls over to a sense of longing. Your dad would love it. He'd be trying to goad you into sledding, even though he always lost control of his toboggan.  

Your phone shakes violently in your hand. This time, it doesn't stop. You answer Lloyd's call, "uh, hi?" 

"Whatcha doin'?" 

"Uhhhhh," you lean your elbow on the desk, "just finished some work. Was going to put the kettle on--" 

"Forget the kettle. I'm outside." 

"Outside? Lloyd." 

"I know, tootsie, you're a creature of habit but I'm a man without rules," he snickers. 

"I didn't even know you were back," you say. 

"Wow, some welcome, huh?" He scoffs. "Thought you'd be happy to see me." 

"I am," you argue shrilly. "Alright, let me just get my stuff. It might take me a few." 

"Sure thing, candy girl," he says, "I'll keep the seat warm. Crank this thing up to ten." 

"Right, bye," you hang up and stand with a sigh. 

You're happy to have a friend but Lloyd can be a bit... demanding. He's a bit oblivious too. He doesn't always ask, he just kind of does. You're much the opposite but you suppose it makes it more interesting.  

You grab some socks before you tuck your feet into your boots. You stand and grab your jacket. You lost a button and replaced it with a close dupe. Still, it stands out. 

You shove your phone in your purse and pause. Your forgetting something. You scurry back to grab the bundle on the armrest then pluck up your keys. You hurry out and barrell down the stares. He may have caught you offguard but you always hate to keep anyone waiting. 

You kick up snow as you near his car and the doors unlock loudly. You sit with your feet outside and shake off the snow. You pull your legs in and shut the door with a brr. 

"I thought you liked this sh--stuff," he snorts. 

"I do!" You hold out the bundle, "welcome back, Lolly." 

He smirks and curiously eyes the sewn pouch. He takes it and chuckles at the nickname. One autocorrect mixup and it just sort of stuck. 

"Remember, you can't call me that around others. I got an aura to maintain," he says as he loosens the string and looks inside. He tugs out the wolly mitt with its black and grey ombre. He narrows his eyes and slips the other free. He examines them, feeling the stitching. 

"You don't have mitts so I made some," you say, "just in time too!" 

He looks at you then back at the wool, "you made them?" 

"Yeah, like mine," you bounce excitedly, "you like them. I hope the colour's okay. I didn't have black but I found that on discount." 

"They're... nice," he says. 

"Please, try them. See if they fit. I had to guess and my hands are tiny." 

"Uh, yeah," he flinches and looks down again. He shoves his hand into one and raises it, stretching is fingers inside, "perfect. Warm." 

"Awesome," you smile proudly. "But uh, you know... if you don't like them. I know they're not really your style. Oh, maybe I could sew in a Gucci tag--"  

"Stop," he slips it off and puts them back in the bag, "I love em, okay?" 

He leans over and pulls open the glove box. He puts them inside, his shoulder against you, and snaps it shut. 

"Make sure I don't lose them," he sits back and rests his hand on your seat, "so, anyway, you're not gonna make me feel like a chump so easy. You're not the only one with a surprise." 

"Please, I'm not dressed for that bar," you protest.  

"Ha, no, don't worry, you'll be fine," he assures you. 

"Can I have a hint?" You ask as he pulls away from the curb.  

"Nope," he makes the P pop. 

"Hmm, alright. I'll be patient." 

"Just sit pretty, tootsie roll," he steers down the snowy street cautiously. "Wanna turn on some of that girly trash you listen to?" 

You roll your eyes and tap the touchscreen of the stereo. You search for the 00s station and hit play. An Xtina classic comes on and you turn it up. 

"Oh, I love this one," you wiggle in your seat. 

"Really?" He remarks, "wouldn't think..." 

You sit back and tap your foot to the rhythm. You watch the snowflakes drift and peer up into the deepening blue evening. It's so pretty. You're just happy not to be alone. 

You look over as the tires crunch to a stop at the light. At least he has the sense not to drive like a maniac in this weather. As you glance at him, his lips curve around the lyrics of the song silently. You chuckle softly and turn back to the window. You knew he liked your music. 

[runariya]

Will there be a chapter or a few scenes from jk’s pov? I’m really curious about his thoughts regarding all that’s happening right now and also curious about what drew him to oc in the first place considering he always loved taking risks and she was always the opposite in this regard, at least during their relationship.

not rly, tho I do accept drabble requests for my fics...speaking of...

The one where JK and OC start dating 💕

word count: 1.800 (lol)

Jungkook has been thinking about you for a long time now, ever since the day you first met. It’s been over a year of friendship—late-night talks, binge-watching shows, sharing food, and sometimes just sitting in comfortable silence. The kind of moments that shouldn’t feel like anything special but, with you, feel like everything. 

It’s funny, though, how even after all this time, you still make him nervous. Not in the awkward way he might’ve been when you first met, but in the kind of nervous that gets under his skin, makes his a little breathless, and his hands fidget whenever you’re close.

He can remember the exact moment he fell for you, though it sounds ridiculous when he plays it back in his head. You were so helpless—just sitting there in your car weeping in the narrow side street—but something about the way you looked at him after he knocked on the window, the way you started laughing right after, it hit him all at once. He felt it deep in his gut, this certainty, like he just knew. That’s what love at first sight was. 

And then came everything after, everything that followed. You, with your carefully planned out life, your sensible decisions, the way you always thought things through, never acting on impulse or emotion. You, who double-checked the train schedules and had contingency plans for things that probably weren’t even going to happen. 

He should’ve found that frustrating, annoying even, given how opposite you were to him. Jungkook, who lived for the rush of spontaneity, the thrill of last-minute decisions, the way his pulse would pound when he went just a little too fast on his motorbike or tried something new on a whim.

Yet, instead of being frustrated, he found himself drawn to it. You calmed him, steadied him. Being around you was like catching his breath after running for so long, realising he didn’t need to be running at all. It was unexpected, the way you settled something inside him without even trying.

It hit him hardest when you agreed to join him on that hiking trip. You, who preferred to stay home on weekends, your idea of fun involving quiet nights in, agreed to hike up a mountain with him. It wasn’t anything crazy, not by his standards at least, but it was out of your comfort zone. And you went for it. You even laughed at yourself when you stumbled over a root, swore under your breath when the trail got too steep, but you kept going. 

Jungkook remembers how his chest had felt thifht that day, but not in the way it usually did when he was out chasing that rush of adrenaline. It was something so much more beautiful—a thrill of a different kind, realising how much he wanted you in his life, in all of it.

And now, after over a whole damn year, here he is, sitting across from you in a restaurant he had chosen for both of you, pretending everything’s normal. You’re talking about your day, about work or something—he isn’t really paying attention because his mind is occupied with what he’s about to do. His heart is pounding so hard, he swears it’s audible, the rush of blood in his ears drowning out the noise of the restaurant and your soft voice.

This is it. He’s going to ask you out. Properly. Not in the casual, hey, want to hang out again tomorrow? way that he’s done for the past year. This time, it’s going to mean something different. This time, he’s going to make it clear that he wants more.

His palms are sweating, his fingers tapping anxiously against each other, and he can’t help but glance at you every few seconds, wondering if you notice. If you can tell that something’s off. But you seem so at ease, so content in your world, sipping your drink and smiling at him like you always do. You have no idea how hard it is for him right now.

He takes a deep breath. Just do it, Jungkook. Stop overthinking it and just ask her. It’s not like he hasn’t faced worse than this, right? But that’s the thing—this is worse. 

Because with you, there’s so much more at stake. If you say no, it’s not just his pride on the line. It’s everything. It’s the friendship you’ve built, the trust, the comfort, the late nights and lazy mornings spent in each other’s company. He can’t lose that. But he also can’t go on pretending that this isn’t killing him inside.

He clears his throat, but his voice cracks a little when he speaks. Smooth, Jungkook.

“So, um, I’ve been thinking.” His words are awkward, clumsy even, not at all how he imagined this going in his head. You look up at him, eyebrows raised, and now he’s lost track of what he’s supposed to say next. Great.

“About what?” you ask, voice calm, eyes curious, completely unaware of the internal battle he’s waging right now.

He swallows hard, fingers fidgeting with the napkin on his lap. He can feel the adrenaline kicking in, his body reacting the same way it does when he’s about to take a leap from a cliff into the ocean, except this is so much more terrifying.

“I’ve been thinking about… us,” he stammers, and instantly regrets the vagueness of his words. Why does he always make things harder for himself?

You blink, head tilting slightly as if you’re trying to figure out where he’s going with this. “Us?”

“Yeah. Us.” He breathes out heavily, raking a hand through his hair gelled hair and regretting it right after. “You and me. How we’ve been, y’know, friends for a while now…and how we spend so much time together.”

You nod slowly, still looking at him like you’re waiting for the punchline. And honestly, he’s starting to feel like he’s delivering one too. 

“I guess what I’m trying to say is, I don’t just want to be your friend anymore,” he blurts out, wincing slightly at how blunt it sounds. He didn’t mean for it to come out like that.

You freeze, your fork hovering mid-air as you stare at him, eyes wide. The shock on your face is evident, and he can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

“What… what do you mean?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jungkook’s heart feels like it’s about to burst out of his chest. He takes another deep breath, trying to steady himself. There’s no going back now.

“I mean…I lo…like you,” he says, forcing himself to meet your gaze. “I’ve liked you for a while now, but I didn’t want to ruin what we had. You’re important to me, and I didn’t want to mess that up, but…” He pauses, running a hand over his face. “But I can’t keep pretending I’m okay with just being friends when I want more. I want us to be more than that.”

Your silence is killing him. You’re staring at him like you’re trying to process his words, and for a split second, he wonders if he’s just made the biggest mistake of his life.

“Jungkook…” you start, your voice soft, but he cuts you off before you can say anything else.

“I know you’re not the kind of person who takes risks,” he rushes out, “and I know I’m the exact opposite of that. I’ve spent my whole life chasing thrills, doing things on a whim, not thinking about the consequences. But you… you make me want to slow down. You make me want to be someone better. Someone you can rely on. I don’t want to keep living the way I have been. I want something real, something that lasts. And I want that with you.”

You’re still silent, but your eyes have softened, and that gives him hope.

“I know I’m not perfect,” he continues, his voice so much quieter now. “I know I can be reckless and impulsive, and I know that’s probably the exact opposite of what you need. But you balance me out. You make me see things differently, make me realise that not everything has to be about the next big adventure. I want to settle down with you. I want us to build something together. I want kids and a home, and all the things I never thought I’d want until I met you.”

He’s laying it all out there now, heart on his sleeve, and it’s terrifying. He feels exposed, vulnerable, like he’s dangling over the edge of that damn cliff and waiting for you to either pull him back or let him fall.

You take a deep breath, setting your fork down, and Jungkook watches as your expression shifts. For a moment, he fears the worst—that you’re going to tell him you don’t feel the same way, that you’re going to ask if you can just stay friends. But then, you speak.

“I didn’t know. I had no idea you felt that way.”

He bites his lip, nodding. “Yeah, well… I’m not exactly great at showing it.”

You look down at your hands, fingers fidgeting with your cutlery, and Jungkook feels the deadly weight of the silence settle between you. He’s about to say something—anything to fill the space—but then you look up at him again, and there’s something in your eyes that makes his heart stop, no, race and then stop again.

“I don’t take risks,” you admit, your voice soft. “It’s who I am. And I’m scared, Jungkook. I’m scared of what this could mean, of what could happen if things go wrong.”

Jungkook might faint, but he forces himself to stay calm, to let you finish.

“But…” you continue, your voice a little stronger now, “I’ve also never met anyone like you. You challenge me, push me out of my comfort zone in ways I never thought I’d be somehow okay with. And I… I think I like that. I like you.”

Jungkook feels like his heart might explode from the relief, the joy that’s flooding his system. He doesn’t think, doesn’t even hesitate before reaching across the table and grabbing your hand, his fingers wrapping around yours in a way that feels so natural, so right.

“You mean it?” he needs your confirmation.

You nod, your smile growing. “Yeah. I mean it.”

And just like that, all the fear, all the anxiety he’s been holding onto for so long, melts away. Jungkook squeezes your hand, his grin now mirroring your own. He can’t believe it. After all this time, all the wondering, the overthinking, you’re here. And he’s with you. And he finally can start living. 

masterlist

All Rights Reserved © @runariya 2024

taglist: @kookiewithluv , @closer-to-jungkook , @dreamcatcherluvr , @blueofocean, @leah-rose03 , @httpjeonlicious , @futuristicenemychaos , @cryingoverpixelsetc , @variety-is-the-joy-of-life , @kawaiiisstuff , @delusionalsnack , @jaykay-world , @kookie-vuitton , @https-mei, @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs , @avawants2havefun , @kawaiiisstuff, @ancagab16 , @lovingkoalaface , @lachimolalajeon , @jkslvsnella , @asimuss7 , @elinaki92 , @minghaosimp, @whoa-jo , @jaytheatiny , @winterbeartaehyungbestboy

[literatureloverx]

How do you know fyodor so well? Have you personally met him? Lol!

Anyways, can you please make a scenario with fyodor x reader whose little daughter has became a tween/teen? So suddenly she's starting to act all grown-up, mature and stuff.. And sometimes she talks back to reader and fyodor (Not in a spoilt way but since she's growing up ofc she's gonna feel other emotions like anger and irritation) I would love to see fyodor's relationship with his teen daughter and how he would handle such situations..

I’m giggling 🤭🥰 Thank you so much! ♥️ I hope it’s to your liking. I’m not sure if this is exactly what you wanted from me, and it’s really hard to write Fyodor in such a role. I hope it satisfies you! ♥️

Fyodor x ideal type fem!reader, husband!Fyodor x daughter x wife!reader , teenage daughter

some tween problems

Your 12-year-old daughter slammed her door with a loud bang. You sighed, standing outside the closed door as your husband entered the room. He looked momentarily perplexed by your little angel’s sudden outburst; she was usually so calm and sweet, a perfect mix of his keen intellect and your compassion.

It was out of character for her, this smaller version of the two of you, to act like this. Fyodor observed that it was likely her age—transitioning into adolescence, a time of change. The realization tugged at his heart. Yet, ever the man of logic and strategy, he approached you, placing a steady hand on your back. His expression was soft but measured.

“Are you alright, my love?” he asked, his voice low but firm.

You huffed, “She’s acting up again. This is the second time this week. I handled it last time, but I think I upset her.”

He caressed your back gently, his fingers tracing deliberate patterns. “I’ll speak to her,” he said after a moment. His tone was calm, not rushed—he already had a plan. “I believe I understand what’s troubling her.”

You glanced at him, uncertainty crossing your features. “Are you sure? I don’t want to push her too hard.”

“There is no rush,” he reassured you, his voice even. “But she needs guidance. I’ll make sure she sees things clearly.”

You nodded, but a sinking feeling settled in your chest. You felt like a failure.

What kind of mother couldn’t help her own daughter through such a simple thing as a mood swing? Was this normal? Did all mothers feel this way, unsure of how to support their child when she needed it most?

You wondered how your own mother had managed—how she had helped you navigate the emotional storms of growing up. She always seemed to have the answers, but now, standing here, you felt lost.

The doubts gnawed at you, making you question if you were really enough. Were you doing something wrong? Were you too soft, or maybe too hard on her? It was as though every decision you made was under a microscope, and nothing felt quite right.

Fyodor’s hand on your back brought you back to the present, grounding you. His steady presence was a reminder that you didn’t have to face this alone, but still, the weight of inadequacy lingered.

You hesitated but then nodded, watching as Fyodor knocked lightly on your daughter’s door and opened it. He stepped inside, his movements deliberate as always.

“May I come in?” he asked quietly.

“Whatever,” she muttered from behind her crossed arms, sitting stiffly on the edge of her bed.

He stepped closer, careful not to invade her space, yet his presence was commanding. “You seem upset,” he began, his voice measured, free of judgment.

“I’m fine,” she snapped, still refusing to meet his gaze.

“Fine is often a mask for something deeper,” he said smoothly, sitting down beside her but maintaining distance. His tone was cool, but not cold, as he sought the source of her frustration.

“You’re overwhelmed.”

She scowled. “You wouldn’t get it. You’re…you’re always in control, dad.”

“Not always,” he responded calmly. “And even if I were, control doesn’t negate emotion or confusion. What you’re feeling is part of the process of growing up. It’s not about avoiding struggle—it’s about learning to manage it.”

She shot him a quick glance, the skepticism still there. “I feel like I’m failing. I can’t keep up with everyone’s expectations. I’m supposed to be smart like you, but I just… I can’t.”

Fyodor’s gaze softened, though his tone remained rational. “That pressure—most of it is created by you. Others see your potential, yes, but it’s you who holds yourself to impossible standards.”

He leaned forward slightly, his words deliberate.

“Intelligence is not the absence of struggle. It’s knowing how to approach and learn from that struggle. The more you face now, the more capable you will become.”

She frowned, absorbing his words but still feeling burdened. “But it’s too much sometimes.”

“There’s no shame in feeling that way,” he said smoothly. “Even I—your mother—everyone has moments of doubt. But those moments …are part of growing stronger,” Fyodor continued, his voice unwavering. “The key is not to avoid them, but to use them. Every challenge, every setback, is another opportunity to sharpen your mind, to understand yourself better.”

She looked up at him, her expression softening slightly, though the frustration still lingered in her eyes.

“But you’re always so calm about everything. I’m not like that. I feel like I can’t measure up, no matter how hard I try.”

“You’re not meant to be exactly like me,” he said, a trace of warmth in his usually composed tone.

“You are your own person, and you will find your own way to handle these moments. Comparing yourself to me—or anyone—will only burden you more. You are extraordinary, but that doesn’t mean you won’t struggle. It means you’ll learn from it faster and come out stronger.”

She fell silent for a moment, chewing on her lip, her thoughts visibly swirling. “But… what if I don’t? What if it’s too much, and I can’t keep up?”

Fyodor shifted slightly, leaning just enough to make his presence more reassuring but still leaving space for her to process.

“Then you adjust. Intelligence isn’t about never failing—it is about adapting, learning, and improving. You will stumble, yes. But that is not something to fear. Each misstep is a lesson, and you are more than capable of learning.”

She let out a shaky breath. “I just don’t want to disappoint you. Or Mom.”

His expression remained calm, but there was a flicker of tenderness in his eyes. “You won’t. Your mother and I don’t expect perfection. What we expect is for you to keep trying, to grow through your challenges. That’s all we ask. And that is enough.”

Her shoulders finally relaxed, though the weight of her worries hadn’t fully lifted. Fyodor noticed, understanding that these feelings wouldn’t be resolved in a single conversation, but knowing his words had planted a seed. The rest would take time. And he would ensure that his little princess reached her full potential in the end.

After a moment of silence, she mumbled, “Thanks, Dad.”

He smiled, though it was small, subtle, a reflection of his reserved nature. “Of course.”

As he stood up, his hand gently reached for her head, caressing it softly, just as he had when she was a small toddler running through the halls after him. He glanced back at her one last time.

“Remember, you don’t have to figure everything out at once. Take your time. We’re here for you. And be mindful of your mother’s feelings,” he added calmly, his gaze sharp but affectionate.

“You know how much it matters to me that she isn’t troubled, don’t you, my little girl?”

She nodded, and with that, Fyodor quietly left the room, closing the door behind him. He returned to you, finding you still standing in the hallway, your brow furrowed with concern.

“How did it go?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

“She’ll be fine,” he said, placing a reassuring hand on your arm. “She’s special, just like you. But she is struggling, and that is normal. Don’t doubt yourself—you’ve been enough for her.”

You looked up at him, uncertainty lingering. “But what if I’m not? What if I don’t know how to help her?”

He cupped your cheek gently, his gaze steady. “You are more than enough. You’ve given her everything she needs to succeed. She just needs time to understand it herself.”

His words were firm, and you felt some of the weight lift from your shoulders. Fyodor wasn’t one to offer empty reassurance; he always spoke with purpose, with the confidence of someone who had carefully analyzed every angle.

“Trust her,” he continued. “And trust yourself. You’re doing more than you realize.”

[saphronethaleph]

Wooden Ships and Obscure Disney Films

The RLS Warrior was three days out of Montressor, sails full of the solar wind, and her commander closed his eyes and felt the Etherium around him.

For a number of reasons – not least his old ties with Admiral Amelia – Jim had been heavily involved with the design of the ship, as well as the tradeoffs involved. For all that he wasn’t even twenty-five, yet, the ship was built as much to his ideas as to those of anyone else in the Navy, and after three days he was really starting to get a feel for her.

And he was proud of the work.

The yards had done right by them, and no mistake. She sailed the winds as sweetly as the old Legacy, and if that was partly due to her studdingsails to give her extra sail area – they’d calculated it out a dozen times, even getting Doppler involved, and every time it had come out that the sails were worth the hassle. And the engines sang a fine note, while the treated timbers making up her hull were finely seasoned and showed no sign of weakness or wear.

“Captain?” a nervous voice said, then the voice’s owner corrected herself. “I mean – Commander?”

“Captain is preferred,” Jim replied. “Can’t have more than one captain on a ship.”

Then he opened his eyes, and grinned at the young woman who was nervously clinging to the ropes around the mainmast crow’s nest. “But since there doesn’t seem to be anyone else up here, you can call me Jim if you want.”

“I couldn’t do that!” the woman said, astonished, and her ears flicked down. “You’re – you’re the Captain! And you’re a hero of the Second Procyon War…”

Jim chuckled.

“Midshipwoman Brooks, ten years ago I was a complete tearaway,” he said. “So, did our other midshipmen and women put you up to coming to ask the scary captain about his past? Or is this you personally with a question?”

He shrugged. “I don’t mind either way, I’m just curious. And come on, sit – it’s good you’re comfortable in the shrouds, but there’s no reason to hang there while we’re talking.”

“Right,” Brooks said, still sounding nervous, and clambered into the lookout spot.

For a long moment, there was silence.

“It was just me,” she said. “I was… I suppose I wondered about something, and – I wanted to ask, but it feels like a silly question now.”

“Take it from me, sometimes a silly question is just the question that needs asking,” Jim replied. “Or answering.”

The Warrior shivered a little as they came about, turning six degrees port and adjusting their vector four down as the helmsman pointed them at a different star.

“Well-” the midshipwoman said. “I… why are we on a ship like this?”

Jim raised an eyebrow, something he’d been practising, and Brooks flushed.

“I don’t mean that as a criticism,” she added. “It’s a good ship, of course! I’m just thinking of…”

“The ironclads?” Jim replied.

“The ironclads,” Brooks agreed. “I know they were important in the Procyon war. I also know the Procyons lost, but… the ironclads were so difficult to damage. It feels like even sailing ships like these is a strange choice, let alone building new ones.”

Jim nodded, doing a quick assessment of the girl.

She was… definitely less delinquent than he’d been. She sounded curious, and… realistically speaking, this wasn’t going to stay a secret for long anyway.

It was his decision, and… in this case, he was going to nurture the young officer.

“You’re not wondering anything that we didn’t,” he said. “I was heavily involved in the discussions, actually… perhaps we will end up building the same kind of ironclads as the Procyons were building – I wouldn’t be involved in those decisions, because they’re going on right now and I’m not exactly there.”

He stood, and looked out over the sails of the Warrior. They glowed with inner fire, both directly propelling the ship by catching the wind and also providing the power that let her engines burn at high power for long periods of time.

“I’ve already given you the answer,” he added, glancing at Brooks. “Your academy scores show you’re a bright young woman, midshipwoman – what do you think it is?”

Brooks frowned, and her tail twitched as she thought.

“I think…” she began. “You said… the same kind of ironclads. What other kinds of ironclads are there?”

Jim patted the royal mast, the highest of the four huge cylinders making up Warrior’s mainmast.

“You’re sailing on one,” he answered.

Brooks looked confused, then stood up herself to look down at the sails.

“...how?” she asked. “Ironclads – they don’t look like this!”

“What makes an ironclad?” Jim asked. “It’s the iron, that’s what… experiments showed that it’s actually helpful to have the iron backed by wood, that makes it more resistant to attack. So that’s what Warrior is. She’s a test ship, all right – an ironclad cruiser, with the masts and sails to travel long distances on patrol in a way the Procyon War ironclads never could, and with armour that’s almost as strong.”

He tilted his head, a little. “Midshipwoman, have you ever used a solar sailer?”

Brooks looked a little thrown by the sudden change of topic.

“...no,” she admitted. “I’ve sailed a cutter before, but those have a proper keel and mast… solar sailers seem too dangerous to me. They’re not much more than a board, an engine and a sail, aren’t they?”

“That’s right,” Jim agreed. “And they’re very able to manoeuvre, in ways you can’t even manage by just welding an engine directly to a board. The key is the sail – you’ve done vectors in your classes, the key point here is that you can combine the vectors from the sail and the engine, and the transverse resistance from the sail if you push it to go in a direction against the one it’s meant to go. You can pull some incredibly tight turns.”

Brooks was frowning, clearly processing that information.

“That sounds like it’s personal experience, Captain,” she said. “You’ve done that?”

“I’ve done both,” Jim agreed. “And I’ve captained wooden ships against ironclads… ironclads struggle to turn fast, because they only have differential thrust, and they struggle to move quickly as well. And the former is what let us run circles around them… and strategically, they were dependent on covert support ships carrying fuel. Do you think the Warrior is the same?”

Brooks shook her head.

“No,” she replied, then frowned. “So you’re saying that… the sails are an advantage?”

“They might not be forever,” Jim conceded. “Maybe some day all our line warships will have to be full ironclads, where even the risk of mast damage is too much. But I think even then there’ll be a place for cruisers to have sails, for some years longer.”

He clapped her on the shoulder. “And maybe we’ll both see that day – but right now, if we ran into an ironclad from the Procyon Wars, I’m sure we’d clean their clock. Because this is the finest ship and crew I’ve yet seen, and I’ve seen a few crews.”

Then he looked slightly awkward. “Admittedly, my first one had about ninety percent of it be pirates…”

“Pardon?” Brooks asked. “Was that during the war?”

“Before,” Jim replied. “During my misspent youth. Though… you may as well tell the others this, Miss Midshipwoman – I think I’m going to have all of you young officers, and perhaps the rest of the crew, have at least one go each on a solar sailer. I believe there’s four in one of the holds, and it’s a useful skill… once you’ve flown one, not much else can scare you.”

The feline midshipwoman looked at her captain, still not sure how to take the oddly informal conversation.

“Should I be worried?” she asked.

Jim shrugged.

“That’s more BEN’s department than mine,” he admitted. “He flat out refuses to come up to the crow’s nest, though, so I’ll have to ask him on deck…”