#hyperfixation to hyperfixation never can i rest

[clairewritesfanfics]

Villain Creation System Chapter 1

Pairing/s: Invincible x Reader x Invincible Variants

Synopsis:

You died. Literally. The process itself was nothing special. The interesting part is what happened after. Instead of the abyss or paradise, a mysterious voice strikes up a deal with you in front of your fresh corpse.

[I am the Villain Creation System, if you want a second chance at life, then you must corrupt the souls of various Mark Graysons across the multiverse.] “Do I have a choice?” [Of course! Agree to our terms, or spend the rest of eternity alone and conscious of your own nonexistence, unable to move on to the next life and barred from what your ilk calls Heaven.] [ ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ ] “...okay, sold.” [Yay!]

You successfully destroyed the lives of different versions of Mark Grayson, but when it's time to claim your prize, something goes wrong and you are stuck in this godforsaken timeline. What's worse was that they have found you.

"Come with me and we will rule the universe together." "Be my wife and bear my children. No harm will ever come to you." "After you died, no one could compare to you, not even your own corpse."

You: (•_•)

Trigger Warnings: you are literally dead, death in general, dark humor (e.g. necrophilia jokes), innuendos, mild swearing, mentions of violence and bodily harm, toxic relationships, the Marks are their own warning

Author's note: As someone who still hasn't finished two other works about world-hopping, I feel a bit ashamed (it's been over three years T.T) but YOU CANNOT STOP ME. Anyway, I shouldn't be doing this, but the hyperfixation gods have their claws deep in my shoulders and I can't study without publishing at least the first chapter.

The problem began when you died. 

You didn’t save a kid from a speeding truck or get murdered, no, you died just as you lived: in a remarkably boring, somewhat embarrassing fashion. You fell down the stairs.

In your defence, you just finished a brutal exam and your Red Bull:Coffee cocktail could only do so much for a brain running on 2 hours of sleep. Your eyelids were barely holding on. You didn’t see the “wet floor” sign, slipped and cracked your head on the bottom steps of the stairs. 

On the bright side, you didn’t have to study anymore. On the other hand, you were young, barely half a century old, you had a bucket list that reached the triple digits but you only got to cross out five things. You didn’t get your dream job. You didn’t even purchase your own house yet, never painted and decorated it the way you wanted. You haven’t said your goodbyes. You haven’t experienced love, real, actual, can’t-live-without love.

It wasn’t fair. You always knew that life was unfair, but it was only when you died did it really hit you. You wanted so much more. 

You stared at your corpse, with its elbows and knees twisting into awkward positions, growing colder and stiffer by the second. 

Life wasn’t fair, you knew this. But it wasn’t until you saw yourself at the bottom of the stairs did you realize that life was a bitch. 

Now, there was only one question left. Where do I go from here?

You weren’t an exceptionally good person, but you really hoped you weren't going to end up in Hell. 

Before you could fear for your eternal soul, a disembodied voice, as robotic as it was sweet, greeted you with all the cheer of a kindergarten teacher: [Congratulations on your death! You are the first person to be chosen by the Villain Creation System!]

“...”

[I can tell from that dumbfounded expression that you are confused. Please, let this system explain. Open up your ear holes because I will not repeat myself!]

The thing cleared its throat and a light screen hovered over your dead body, displaying a series of stick figure illustrations.

[As your ancestors have found out, most souls are moved to limbo after death, where they are judged.]

The stick figure in this ridiculous powerpoint presentation died, had its soul enter what seemed to be a judicial court, and was presented with two doors. 

[Depending on the verdict, the soul may reincarnate as another human or a different species, or if they’ve fulfilled all the requirements, they can enter Paradise.] 

A third door appeared between the existing two.

[In special cases, one soul out of 300 trillion is chosen to bind with systems such as I. You already know, but let me reintroduce myself, I am Villain Creation System No. 00001. You see, many fictional worlds are very much real and alive in their own pocket universes. It is a system’s job to ensure a safe and steady existence, preventing the collapse of each dimension.]

The third door moved towards you and you found yourself floating in what resembled the vacuum of space, surrounded by infinite light projections of the Milky Way. 

[Unlike your reality, these special worlds live closely to the void, because its creators–its writers tend to be finite creatures, mere mortals cosplaying as gods.]

One by one, each galaxy turned to dust and you were back at the bottom of the stairs, standing right next to your dead body.

“I think I’ve read about this before…” When you used to have a lot of free time, you would binge read Chinese web novels about protagonists who jumped from world to world, completing tasks and granting wishes, whether it be getting back at cheating husbands or avenging dead relatives. 

“I have several questions.”

[It would be odd if you didn’t.]

This thing sure could talk. “Why me?”

[You mortals truly do love that question.] The thing sighed, as though it was shaking its head at you that very moment. [There’s nothing special about you, if that’s what you’re thinking. We rolled a hypothetical die and got you.]

“ Okay.” Ow. It wasn’t like you believed in life having inherent meaning, but to be outright told by a supernatural creature that you weren’t special still stung.

You pushed the feelings of hurt aside and asked, “Why do you exist? What’s the point?”

[What a boring question. If I told you that “it is fate,” will that be enough? If I say that it is “merely for a petty god’s entertainment,” will you be satisfied? Please don’t bother yourself with such questions, you will only end up hurting your own head.]

“I feel like I’m being insulted.”

[Surely, you’re imagining it.]

You inhaled, more out of habit than anything else because your lungs were decorative now. You calmed yourself. You’d rather not piss off a mysterious entity that seemed happy with your death and had souls dancing at the palm of its nonexistent hands. “All right. What do I have to do?”

[It’s just as my name suggests, you will be sent to different so-called fictional worlds to help create the villains, after all, what’s a story without a great villain? That is a rhetorical question, by the way.]

“You make it sound so simple.” Creating villains, huh. You have watched enough cartoons, read enough books to know that there would be a lot of pain involved. 

[Ding. Allow me to add: your efforts will not go unrewarded; should you complete your tasks, the Almighty One will grant you a redo in your life. If you do everything perfectly, THEY might even give you special privileges.]

“Such as?”

[In addition to your rebirth, you could freely modify your appearance to your liking, or you may ask for knowledge unparalleled in your generation.]

You glanced down at your feet. The blood from your broken skull pooled around you as you weighed your options.

“Do I have a choice?”

[Of course! Agree to our terms, or spend the rest of eternity alone and conscious of your own nonexistence, unable to move on to the next life and barred from what your ilk calls Heaven.] 

[  ˶ˆᗜˆ˵  ]

“...okay, sold.”

[Yay!]

A second chance at life. 

Divine boons, to boot.

It sounded way too good to be true. If anything, rather than speaking with an agent of God (or God’s equivalent) you felt like you were about to shake hands with the Devil.

You totally should have known better. 

The whole thing was fishy from beginning to end, but what else was there to do? Pray?

***

[Mark Grayson of Alternative Universe No. 444 has achieved 100% Darkening. A villain is born.]

[Congratulations on another successful corruption, Host!]

This version of Mark pulled you into his arms. Those who hurt you have become meat paste on the ground around him. 

He touched your cheek, begged you to stay with tears falling like rain on your face. It was too late. Often, he was too late. 

“Please,” he cried, holding your face. “Please come back to me.”

You couldn’t even if you wanted to. The system pulled on your soul like the tide returning to the sea. 

[Initiating extraction … ]

[Prepare for a meeting with the Main System. We will calculate your grade and remaining reward points then.]

Finally… You could go back home. You already knew what you were going to ask first–a memory wipe. You used your reward points early on and bought a “system cheat” to help alleviate the guilt of everything you’ve done, along with something to diminish the weight of certain emotions, but these cheat codes couldn’t be transferred to your world, the real world.

[ERROR. ERROR.]

Pain shot through every nerve and cut through every vein of your soul. This has never happened before. You writhed in the void until–

Your eyes shot open.

You gasped and sat up. Your heart hammered in your chest and you struggled to regulate your breathing. 

You looked around you. A bedroom. Your bedroom. One of its many variations. 

“What’s going on?!” You demanded from your system. 

You were done. You had just finished your last mission, the final Mark Grayson had been converted, and the system promised that it would send you to speak with its boss and its boss’ boss. You were finally going to get your second chance, free yourself from this damned multiverse. 

However, when you opened your eyes after the extraction process, you could instantly tell that something was wrong.

For one thing, you have awoken in this same bedroom in at least three other parallel dimensions. The posters and pictures on the walls might’ve changed and the bed was next to the window instead of the door, but you knew that this was your room in the many worlds of Invincible.

You yelled at the air and in your mind, “Zero-One? Zero-One, where the hell are you? Hey!” 

No answer.

You fell forward and screamed into your mattress.

You should have prayed. 

Chapter 2: Coming soon

For those who have read my Origin series for the Mark Variants, you may or may not think of this as its direct sequel. I got a crappy memory so continuation would be hard to keep up with. But if you have any questions, feel free to message me. For those who read by my Obey Me fanfic, yeah, this system and the Secondary Character Grievance Delivery System are basically co-workers, lol.

[corvidaeconundrum]

“Are you happy?”

“…”

“Getting there.”

[goldkirk]

When did the latest 1,000 of you follow me??? good lord hi and welcome, I should maybe pay attention to my notifications and activity page more 😭

[krimsonwings]

Y’all… I need a Sentinel AU Spiderdads fic.

Sentinel!Miguel and Guide!Peter is perfect.

[dennisboobs]

.

[indigo6f00ff]

funny update a couple of months later for People Who Want to Know: i dont have the car that got me into this Incredibly Minor Accident anymore. while after the accident, i did have to get the brakes serviced (wow, they were faulty, who knew!), it proceeded to have Several More Issues, such as: the transmission being fucked up and Trouble With Turns. i still drove it regardless because i needed that shit to get to college but eventually the radiator fan stopped working on it (where it would start overheating if the car wasn't moving (if the car was moving then air could still blow over the engine, cooling it down)) and My Mother deemed it too dangerous to drive. RIP to the shitty 2012 jeep liberty hand-me-down with 200k miles that led to the creation of the Kim Moment(TM).

need to share an experience i had 30 minutes ago

(edit: thanks to @walks-the-ages for providing and reminding me to put alt text, sorry it slips my mind alot lol)

[etherealspacejelly]

this is your gentle reminder to stop fighting against your adhd and instead structure your life around it

buy a pack of chapsticks and put one in the pocket of all of your coats and jackets because you always forget to bring one and chapped lips is sensory hell

leave important things where you can see them. if they go in a box or a drawer you will forget they exist

put any appointments or deadlines in your phone calendar As Soon As you get them. set a reminder for a week before, a day before, an hour before, as many as you need as often as you need them.

when that little voice in your head says "i dont need to write that down, ill remember it" that is the devil talking!!! write it down anyway!!

plan for down time. have a few hours at the end of every day to just do fun stuff like engage in your hyperfixations. even if you didnt get all of your work done that day, have the rest anyway. you probably spent the whole day beating yourself up for not doing what you Should be doing, so you still need the break.

if you never eat vegetables because its too much effort to chop and cook them, get the frozen or canned shit. it doesnt go off for ages and you just have to microwave it. theres no point buying fresh vegetables if they just keep going off and being left to rot in the bottom of your fridge

if you struggle to decide what to have for dinner every day, take the decision out of it. choose a set of meals and eat those on rotation until you get sick of them, then choose some new ones and do it again.

its not stupid if it works! our brains literally have a chemical deficiency. you are allowed to accommodate yourself. go forth and stop making your life more difficult than it has to be because "this shouldn't be this hard". it is hard, so make it easier.

[feral-aether]

Some vent writing because work decided to turn up on its head the last two days

Not done, just taking a break so my wrist stops being numb.

[timey-fandom-stuff]

I will not start another project. I will not start another project. I will not start another project. I will not start another project. I will not start another project. I will not start another project. I will n

[mayplantstarrwaters]

Never underestimate the special psychelogical bond between an unhinged girl and an obscured band with zero contents/active fandom

[meo-eiru]

Since I'm busy working on a valentines day drawing I thought we could do something different until I'm done with that. Trivia night! I'll be writing what's basically a compilation of fun facts we've already established or haven't learned yet. We will also learn more about their backstories.

For tonight we have Silas

Silas has a mom and dad but isn't close with neither of them

As a child he was quite needy compared to other elven kids

Elves almost never stray too far away from the elven village but Silas liked to play in the depths of the forest

He learned about humans from a story book he found while playing in the forest

He was amazed by the colorful imagery and the familial relationship depicted in the book and wanted to have the same, which kickstarted his human hyperfixation

He's currently the most knowledgeable elf in humans within the village

His house is located quite far away from the village, he can still reach there by walking but it's not somewhere where the other elves can just stumble upon

He likes sweet things like fruits or honey but dislikes the taste of meat so doesn't feed it to you much as well

He, just like the other elves, while natural with most other living things, hates all demonic creatures

He's very nice and sweet with you but wouldn't glance twice at other forest creatures and is actively hostile towards demons

Of course he would never let you see him make that kind of face

He thought of using magic to make you live as long as he does but it feels like tempering with your humanity so if you die he's planning to die with you

He's actually not that good at magic compared to other elves, he just knows the basics and relies on books for the rest

He's average height for an elf

He doesn't like leaving bite marks or hickeys on your body because it feels like dirtying your perfect form

But he really likes it when you mark his skin, whether they are hickeys or wounds

While more compassionate than other elves, Silas does have a bit of a superiority complex like them

For example, unlike other elves he does see the intelligence of humans but would still say elves are smarter

He doesn't have any ill intentions with it, to him it's just like saying a unicorn is be better than a horse

He doesn't like eating carrots because he thinks they look like elf ears

He loves learning more about you but dislikes hearing about your family

He doesn't want you to have pets, only the two of you are allowed inside his house

He does have a bathroom in his house but it's just a replica of what he saw in books and isn't actually that functional

If you want to use the bathroom for your baths instead of the river like he does, he just carries the water from the river to his house then uses magic to make it rain on you like a shower head

Even if you don't allow him inside the bathroom he still watches from the window

He has a diary where he writes everything you do in a day, from what activities you did to how many times you blink on average

If you offered to live in a human city with him he would refuse, while he likes humans you are his utmost priority and it's better for you to be inside his house away from everyone's reach

[comesatimecomesashadow]

meteor *ೃ༄

pairing *ೃ༄ soft lover! wanderer x shy! gn reader

cw *ೃ༄ wanderer's short temper, mostly fluff

summary *ೃ༄ what wanderer is like when he's in love with a shy person.

note *ೃ༄ i missed writing for my biggest hyperfixation of late 2020 ngl; Sorry if this is short i've been busy all week T^T..

masterlist *ೃ༄

 Now, Wanderer (In his past) was not known for his kindness with others. In fact, he was known for being ruthless, imperious and most of all: An insufferable, rage-stricken boss. You didn’t change that, no, you met him after he changed himself. After he realized that no gnosis could fill the void in his ‘heart’ if he did not accept his past himself and learn to be better. Loving you only unlocked parts of himself that he didn’t even know he had. Especially since you contrasted his sometimes brash nature so well. Loving you led to happenstances such as..

ᥫ᭡ i.. Becoming your voice.

Your shyness was something that irritated Wanderer at first. However, after he became close to you — and eventually your lover, he sometimes spoke for you when you felt it was hard to do so. If you want to order something at a restaurant in Sumeru, he was ready to order for you. If you had trouble asking people for things, he’d be asking before you could ask him to do it. In difficult situations, he became your voice. 

“They didn’t ask for this, they wanted the Biryani, thank you.” The waitress nodded and carried the mistaken dish back to the kitchen. “Saved by me again.” Wanderer gazed into your eyes with his chin resting on his palm as usual, “Seriously, what would you do without me?” 

ᥫ᭡ ii.. Defending you. 

There are a lot of people out there who may be understanding of your shyness, but there are many who certainly aren’t. Whether it be a coworker, an irritable merchant or someone from the Akademiya, Wanderer wouldn’t allow them to hold your shyness against you. Wanderer would defend you and nine times out of ten, they end up just leaving after receiving (possible) death threats. Wanderer isn’t afraid to go to those lengths for you.

 "You might want to reconsider talking to my partner like that.."

ᥫ᭡ iii.. Helping you.

If your shyness is something you’d like to change, Wanderer wouldn’t have any problems helping you with it. However, his methods are very.. ‘Tough-love’-ish. What do I mean by this? Well.. 

“How do you expect to change it if you don’t practice overcoming it?”

Wanderer was never the type of person to sugarcoat things. That was one of the many characteristics that didn’t change when he let go of his past. However, this doesn’t mean he’s mean to you or bears you any ill will when you fail at being direct or speaking up for yourself. Instead, he allows you to fail but won’t refrain from telling it like it is. 

“You’re going to have to order for yourself this time.” 

“What? But-!” 

“Part of overcoming it, is practicing it in small instances such as these. You can do it, I believe in you.” 

Wanderer has come a long way from his past tyrannical self. But he’s still as direct as ever. Even if you’re a shy person, Wanderer has no problem being in love with you.

[tbaluver]

S/O With ADHD- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader, Caleb x Reader requested: by a couple anonnies ♥︎ a/n: hihi my lovelies! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ i just want to mention a disclaimer about this. while i do have adhd, everybody experiences things differently so what might be common for me, can be completely different to another person! these symptoms presented here are only what i’ve experienced and what my friends have experienced and what people have requested! do not refer to this to diagnose yourself. if you suspect you might have adhd, please refer to a professional! there will be a part two to this because theres more to add but anyways enjoy reading ! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

He didn’t fully grasp the idea when you tried to explain your adhd to him, your thoughts would jump from one thing to another and he tried to keep up. He would do his own research to understand better what you were going through. He would notice the little things, the way you would say you 're going to do something but never actually start or how tasks seem to take you forever to finish.

No worries about being late or rushing to go on dates or hangouts with him, there’s no set start time. Often times the dates and hangouts are flexible. He’ll wait until you’re ready as long as he gets to spend time with you and eat yummy food together, he’s happy

Indulges and learns your hyper fixations and your current obsessions. He’ll learn more about them on his own time so he can talk more about them with you

If you’re okay with it, he’ll join you whenever you need to rest and watch your comfort shows whenever you’re feeling drained or overstimulated. He’ll make the atmosphere in the room feel more cozy either by giving you space, adjusting the lighting and closing the curtains, tucking you in your blankets, so you can recharge

Praises your smallest victories even if it was just cleaning your room or finishing a simple task in under an hour without thinking or worrying about it. He knows that even the simplest tasks can feel overwhelming so when you manage to do something without thinking or bed rotting before doing something, he’s genuinely proud of you.

Zayne:

He would truly listen when you go off on a tangent of your hyperfixations, letting you ramble about them without interrupting you. Even if you branch off too many topics that you swear relates to the main topic, eventually forgetting what the point was, he patiently brings you back to the main point.

“..wait what was I talking about?”

“you were talking about how ___ and __”

He’s very organized, constantly tidying and rearranging things for you without needing to be asked. He doesn’t mind it at all. He organizes in a way that he knows would help you but if you ever forget where something is, he’s quick to help you. lost your keys? by the dining room table. your jacket? in the laundry basket. your phone? you’re holding it

Tries to keep his explanations short and easier to understand. He’ll give you just enough without getting lost in any unnecessary details

When he’s not around, he helps you by texting you on specific times to check up on you or to help shift your focus

Separate calm activities alone but together with him. You could be doing your own thing while he reads his book(s) or finishes up any medical reports

Calculates how long it usually takes you to get ready, so he’ll plan dates with reservation an hour or two ahead of time, sometimes maybe even more depending on the date, just to avoid overwhelming you. He’s always patient and understanding, sometimes he’ll help you get ready to take the weight off your shoulders

Rafayel:

In the beginning, he’ll notice you can run late to things but once you explain that it’s because of your adhd, he’ll be more understanding. Still, he can’t help but tease you just a little but he means well. He’ll just plan more hangouts that don’t require any set start time, just as long as you two are together at the end

Yap sessions with him take up an ungodly amount of hours. You both branch off to different topics, each one you both swear is just as important as the last, so the conversation goes in different directions. It takes forever to circle back to the original point.

He loves hearing about your hyper fixations. You can tell him everything, every little fact and he’ll ask you a million questions, indulging in your passion for it as well.

Loves to spend time with you but he is mindful and lets you have the space to unwind whenever you might feel overstimulated or just need to recharge

Shows so much encouragement whenever you show your creative and passionate side. He’ll recognize and appreciate the things you’re good at, even if you’re not able to see it in yourself

It’s canon that he sends you separate messages instead of big blocks of texts but its not because that’s how he feels more comfortable texting but also because he knows that long paragraphs can feel overwhelming. He doesn’t want you to miss anything or feel pressured to read through a lot at once

Sylus:

Lets you hold his hand whenever you want, no need to ask. He knows how much you fidget and he loves how you rub circles on the back of his hand, melting under your touch. If it helps you feel better, then go ahead. He’d even buy you rings to fidget with, ones that maybe match and also just so you can have something to twist and twirl when he’s not around

He adores listening to your obsessions and your hyper fixations, letting you ramble your latest interests or the new trinkets you’ve added to your collection. He’ll even surprise you with little trinkets he remembers from past conversations, knowing they would make you smile

Enjoys spending time with you even if you were focused on your own thing, whether it was hobby related or just unwinding in your own way while he’s also doing his own thing.

When you need help focusing and he’s not around, he’ll reach out at a certain time to check in and help refocus your attention

Doesn’t really send you paragraph lengths of text messages but sends you shorter messages so it doesn’t feel as overwhelming. He’ll mostly send voice messages that are short and the right length so it doesn’t let your mind drift away

Online shopping with him can help so you can control yourself from impulse buying so many things. He doesn’t mind you buying the entire world with his card but sometimes he has to stop you from buying things you absolutely don’t need

Caleb:

It’s easy for tasks to slip through or become overwhelming. You might start one thing but your mind jumps to something else and it takes a while before you can get back to what you were originally doing. Caleb would help by breaking down your chores one at a time or with more manageable steps or most of the time he’ll step in and take care of things for you so you don’t feel burdened.

If anything important was coming up the day after, he’ll leave little sticky notes for you all over the house, each one with a tiny apple doodles. They’ll be on your mirror, bedroom door, anywhere else he knows you’ll see them

Ever since you were a kid, he’ll still help you go over any of your works or anything you were unsure about when you feel like you missed any details. He’ll make sure you don’t miss anything

Never judgemental at all if you cut him off mid-sentence. He understands that you need to get your thoughts out quickly before they slip away so he lets you speak freely without worry

Sometimes you might forget to reply to a message or forget to come back to the conversation, so he’ll send a follow up message like, “whaddya think pipsqueak? :o” or he’ll send you a post to bring you back to the convo

If you’re struggling to focus on something, instead of pushing you to keep going, he’ll encourage you to take a break. He’ll help you ease back into it whether it’s breaking things down further or offering some encouragement

[cayleeuhithinknott]

❛ 𝑳𝑬𝑻 𝑴𝑬 𝑳𝑰𝑪𝑲 𝑶𝑵 𝑼𝑹

𝑻𝑨𝑻𝑻𝑶𝑶𝑺 ❜

𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉…you love matt’s tattoos, and it escalates to something more.

pairing: sweetheart!matt & shy!reader

cw: SMUT, oral (m receiving), pet names, tattoo licking? LMAO and probably more!

wc: 2.8k

you really need to get a grip.

or at the very least, stop staring.

but it’s impossible, because matt’s sitting next to you on the couch, completely oblivious to the fact that you’re dying inside, and his tattoo sleeve is just there.

he’s scrolling through his phone, one arm thrown over the back of the couch, his muscles shifting every time his fingers move. and it’s stupid, so so stupid, because you’ve seen his tattoos a million times before. you’ve traced them with your fingers, asked about their meanings, even watched him get some of them done.

but right now, you want to do something else entirely.

something that involves your mouth.

and that’s mortifying.

your face burns as the thought sinks in. it’s not like you to have thoughts this bold, this needy. but for some reason, today, your brain has decided to hyperfixate on the idea of pressing your lips to his skin.

biting it. licking it. marking it, like that would somehow make it yours.

your stomach tightens. you cross your arms, shifting uncomfortably. this is ridiculous. he’d never let you do something like that. it’s weird. you’re weird.

but the urge doesn’t go away. in fact, it gets worse, especially when he sighs and stretches, rolling his shoulders, his tattoos moving with him.

you swallow hard.

your gaze drifts along the inked-up skin, the way the designs flow together, the way the dark ink contrasts against his pale complexion. your fingers twitch.

you want to touch him.

you want to taste him.

matt glances over at you, and your heart plummets.

“baby?”

your spine stiffens. “yeah?”

his lips twitch, like he’s fighting a smile. “you okay?”

“yep,” you blurt out, nodding too fast. “totally fine. why?”

his head tilts. “because you’ve been staring at my arm for like…ten minutes.”

your face erupts in heat.

you shake your head frantically. “no, i haven’t.”

he raises an eyebrow. “so if i asked you what i just said a minute ago, you’d remember?”

you open your mouth. close it.

you didn’t even know he was talking to you before he’d finally grabbed your attention.

his smile grows. “that’s what i thought.”

your heart is racing. you need to get out of this conversation. fast. “it’s nothing,” you mumble, turning away. “just zoning out.”

but he’s not buying it. you can feel him staring at you, studying you, and then—because matt is matt—he shifts closer, resting his forearm on his thigh, putting his tattoos right in your line of sight.

your stomach flips.

he’s testing you.

you try to ignore it, but your eyes keep flickering back, betraying you. and then he does the worst thing possible—he flexes his fingers—fuck, his fingers—veins shifting under the ink, and you swear you feel your pulse in places you shouldn’t.

oh, you hate him.

you squeeze your thighs together, hands balling into fists in your lap. your mouth is so dry. other parts of you are not.

“sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice softer now. “what is it?”

you shake your head. “nothing.”

he doesn’t push, but he also doesn’t look away. he’s waiting. he knows.

and you know you shouldn’t say it. you know you should keep your mouth shut. but your brain-to-mouth filter decides to take the night off, and before you can stop yourself, you whisper, “can i…can i kiss them?”

silence.

your heart stops.

oh. oh no.

why would you say that?

you slap a hand over your mouth, mortified beyond belief, but matt doesn’t laugh. he doesn’t tease. he just blinks at you, like he’s processing the words.

your stomach drops. “forget i said anything,” you rush out, turning away, but before you can retreat, matt’s hand is on your chin, tilting your face back toward him.

your breath catches.

his gaze is steady, unreadable. “you wanna kiss my tattoos?”

your skin burns. “i-i didn’t mean—”

“you did,” he interrupts gently, watching you carefully. “and that’s okay.”

you can barely breathe. “it’s weird,” you mumble, embarrassed. “you probably think i’m weird.”

his thumb strokes your jaw. “i don’t.”

you hesitate. he seems…serious. and more than that, he seems open to it.

“really?” you whisper.

he nods. then, he lifts his arm slightly, offering it to you. “go ahead, baby.”

your heart pounds.

you hesitate for a moment longer, searching his face for any sign of amusement, but there’s none. he’s genuine.

so, cautiously, you reach out, fingers grazing over the ink. his skin is warm under your touch, the veins and muscles firm beneath it.

you swallow.

and then, slowly, you lean down and press a soft, tentative kiss to his forearm.

his breath hitches.

your stomach flips.

you do it again, lips lingering a little longer this time, and when you glance up at him, his jaw is tight, his eyes darker than before.

your confidence spikes.

you move up his arm, kissing along the intricate lines and shading, letting your lips drag. your hands slide up to his bicep, fingertips pressing lightly into the muscle as your mouth lingers on his skin.

when you let your tongue flick out, tracing over a particularly detailed part of the ink, you hear him suck in a sharp breath.

oh.

oh.

this is affecting him.

you bite back a smile, growing bolder. your teeth graze the skin, nipping lightly at the ink, and matt shudders.

his hand comes up to the back of your head, fingers threading into your hair. he’s not pushing—just holding. just feeling.

“fuck,” he exhales, voice strained. “keep going, baby.”

your stomach flutters.

you obey, mouth moving higher, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses along his shoulder. your tongue traces over the ink, warm and wet, and matt shivers.

your eyes flicker up. his lips are parted, his breathing slightly uneven, and his grip in your hair tightens when you bite down again, harder this time.

he lets out a low, shaky laugh. “jesus,” he mutters. “didn’t know you had this in you.”

you don’t answer. you just hum against his skin, sucking lightly at one of the designs.

and that’s when you feel it.

something pressing against your thigh.

your breath catches.

oh, shit.

matt stiffens slightly, realizing at the same time you do. “ignore that,” he mutters, shifting like he’s trying to move away. “not my fault you’re—”

“you’re hard,” you say, voice a little breathless.

he groans, tipping his head back. “don’t say it like that.”

you bite your lip. “but you are.”

he looks back down at you, exasperated. “yeah, no shit, baby.”

your stomach tightens. because suddenly, the wetness between your thighs is impossible to ignore, too.

your mouth is still against his shoulder. his grip is still firm in your hair. and you’re both sitting there, breathless and flushed, knowing exactly where this is leading.

he exhales slowly, voice low. “c’mon,” he murmurs, tugging you closer. “we’re going to my room.”

your pulse races.

yeah. you definitely need to get a grip.

matt’s sat on the edge of the bed with you on your knees in front of him. things had escalated. you were only in your bra and shorts, matt being fully naked.

you’ve got one hand cupped under his balls and the other hand lazily stroking his length. matt’s got his fingers gently threaded in your hair, gazing down at you like you’re the most beautiful thing in the world. because to him, you are.

you press feather-light kisses up and down his cock, occasionally deliberately dragging your tongue over the more pronounced veins. you were a little nervous. you’d given him head tons of times, so you weren’t quite sure what was different this time.

your movements slow even more, hesitation creeping in as your lips hover over his tip, unsure. your hand stills at the base of his cock. the heat of his gaze burns into you, and when you finally gather the courage to look up at him, it nearly knocks the breath from your lungs.

his eyes are heavy-lidded, dark and unreadable, but there’s something there—something that makes your stomach twist and your pulse stutter. is he…waiting? does he want you to keep going? or worse—was that bad? oh god, what if you—

“hey,” his voice cuts through your spiraling thoughts, gentle but firm. his fingers unweave themselves from your hair to trace lightly over your cheek, thumb brushing against your skin in a way that makes you shiver. “you’re doing so good, sweetheart.” the way he says it is so easy, like there isn’t a doubt in his mind. like you aren’t sitting here second-guessing every little thing.

you swallow hard, your breath shaky, and he must notice because he tilts his head, eyes softening. “you can keep going,” he murmurs, his voice low, warm. “take your time. i promise, you’re perfect.”

oh. yeah, that definitely does something to you. your fingers twitch where they rest, your skin buzzing under the weight of his approval. something about the way he’s looking at you—patient, expectant, the ghost of a smirk playing at his lips—sends heat crawling down your spine.

so you inhale slowly, steady yourself, and do exactly what he says.

you give him a couple more slow strokes before wrapping your plush lips around the head of his cock. as his breath hitches, you feel a familiar heat pooling in your core. but, this isn’t about you, right now. you want to make him feel good.

you start to take his cock deeper into your mouth, and matt’s hand immediately finds it’s way back to your hair. you force your head down a little further, choking slightly. “you’re okay, sweetheart. doin’ great.” matt mutters softly, and you can feel his gaze on you.

you transfer your gaze to look up at him as you start to move your head up and down. he throws his head back as you use your hand to pump the length you can’t fully fit, eliciting pleasured groans to fall from his pink lips.

when he looks down at you again, your eyes meet, and he almost cums on the spot just from fucking looking at you. he’s down bad.

you grip his cock a little tighter in your hand, moving your head a little faster as well. the feeling of your warm, wet throat constricting him is pure ecstasy for him. “shit, baby, you’re so good…” he groans, squeezing your hair a little but loosening his grip when he realizes what he’s doing.

tears drip down your cheeks as drool seeps out from the corners of your lips—now you were starting to struggle. you let out a soft whine, and matt looks down at you, taking the hint that you need help. he starts to move your head down until his entire cock is in your mouth and your nose is pressed to his lower tummy.

you gag slightly and he pulls you almost all the way off before pushing you back down again. he thrusts into your mouth slowly, not wanting to hurt you in any way. “can i go a little faster, sweetness?” matt asks breathlessly. you hum around his cock, which is a green-light for matt.

he starts to fuck into you a little quicker now, his tip hitting the back of your throat with each thrust. each little choke and gag of yours drew him closer to his release, and every one of his moans and groans powered you to hold it together.

“take it all, sweetheart, i know you can…fuck,” he tosses his head back. you start to incorporate your tongue more, to which he releases a sound that almost sounds like a whimper. fuck. “you’re—ngh—shit, baby, you’re so good..”

matt lets out a shaky exhale, a soft whine slipping out as he fucks your face even faster. your chin and chest were covered in drool, but you didn’t even care. he bucks his hips up particularly hard, eliciting a loud choked sound from you. “shit—sorry, sweetness, you just make me feel so fuckin’ good..”

matt notices how you’re starting to gag and choke more and more, and he knows you probably need some reassurance. “you’re good, sweet girl, just breathe through your nose. not much longer, baby, i’m so close.”

you hum around him again, the vibrations sending a shiver up his spine and into the back of his throat, where a groan comes out. tears streak down your face, and you’re sure your mascara’s got you looking like a damn raccoon. but, did you care? absolutely the hell not.

his hips start to stutter, and his breathing gets more ragged—that’s how you know he’s so close. you use your free hand to massage his balls and he whimpers. full on whimpers. holy shit. no way. no way that just came out of his mouth.

holy shit. your brain just short-circuited. completely malfunctioned. you didn’t know he could sound like that. but now that you do, you need to hear it again.

okay, stay calm. be normal. act like you didn’t just melt into a puddle. if you die right now, at least you’ll die knowing that noise exists.

god, that was so hot. wait, do you signal that to him? no. no, you keep that to yourself. you should not be this affected. but here you are. completely affected.

he sounds so pretty…is it bad that you want to keep making him sound like that? okay, now you have two missions. make him do that again. immediately. oh, and make him cum.

“fuckkk baby, i���m about to—shit—cum..” he groans, squeezing your hair in his hands even harder. you let out a soft, bashful moan around his cock, egging him on. he pushes himself down your throat one more powerful time before he pulls out. you stick out your tongue and his warm, white spurts of cum cover your lower face, some of it getting on your chest and some actually making it onto your tongue. and that’s when you catch it. another fucking whimper.

matt gawks at the sight of you. he uses his thumb to swipe the remainders into your mouth, not bothering to clean up the bits on your chest just yet.

your chest rises and falls, trying to catch your breath as you shift slightly, still kneeling between matt’s legs. your lips feel swollen, your face warm, and your heart is thumping so hard you’re sure he can hear it.

matt looks absolutely wrecked—head tilted back, eyes half-lidded, lips parted as he tries to process what just happened. but when he blinks down at you, his expression softens instantly.

“c’mere, baby,” he murmurs, reaching down to guide you up and onto his lap. his hands are so gentle, warm against your skin as he cradles your face and presses a lingering kiss to your forehead. “you did so good. so, so good for me.”

your stomach twists at his words, a mix of pride and bashfulness settling in. you tuck your face into his neck, feeling his chest vibrate with a soft chuckle. “stop,” you mumble, voice small.

“what? i mean it,” he hums, rubbing slow circles on your back. “so perfect. felt so good, sweet girl.”

you don’t respond, just nuzzle further into him, feeling warm and safe in his arms. but then matt’s shifting, pressing another kiss to the top of your head before standing up with you still clinging to him.

“let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” he says, carrying you towards the bathroom. you let out a small sound of protest, but he only grins, setting you down carefully before reaching to turn on the shower.

you’re shy, hesitating as you stand in front of him, but he just cups your face, tilting it up so you meet his gaze.

“you okay?” he asks softly.

you nod. “yeah. just…still kinda nervous.”

you weren’t sure as to why you were nervous. you just sucked him off for goodness sake. your brain works in odd ways, that’s for sure.

his lips twitch into a knowing smile before he leans in, kissing you sweetly. “nothing to be nervous about, sweets. just wanna take care of you.”

he steps into the shower first, holding a hand out for you to follow. the warm water cascades down as you step under the spray, sighing at the soothing sensation. matt keeps his touch light—running his hands over your arms, your shoulders, smoothing your hair back with such careful tenderness that your heart clenches.

he washes you with so much care, fingers massaging shampoo into your scalp, then gently rinsing it out. “feel okay?” he asks, and you nod, leaning into his touch.

“you’re so sweet,” you murmur, voice barely above the sound of the water.

matt tilts his head, smiling. “because you deserve it.”

your throat tightens, but before you can respond, he’s pressing a kiss to your shoulder, whispering against your skin, “so proud of you, pretty girl. you’re everything to me.”

you close your eyes, letting yourself melt into his touch, into his words, into him.

“guess my tattoos aren’t the only thing you’ve got a taste for now, hm?”

a/n: omg i’ve wanted to write this for so long. i loooove matt’s tattoos and i love this song so i had to!!! thanks to @hearts4werka for supporting my idea and @strnilolover for proofreading 😌

tags: @sturniolo04 @admeliora94 @alexturnersgooch @snuffbut @frattboychris @marrykisskilled @mqttittude @purpledragon222 @aubsloveschris @slctsblogana @emely9274 @oliviasthatgirl @conspiracy-ash @matthewsroses @pasteldreams @matts-wife

[paradlselost]

. ⋮ ULTRAVIOLENCE .ᐟ ֹ

doctor phosphorus x female reader

⎨ 𝐀𝐍 ⎬ fun fact i’ve wanted to eat uranium for a long time so he is the worlds most perfect man to me . also sorry for not writing anything in so long , i’ve been busy and jumping from hyperfixation to hyperfixation for a while now as you can see by my unfinished mouthwashing fanfics . but i watched the show last night and he is my favorite and there’s almost nothing about him so i had to . enjoy !

⎨ 𝐂𝐖 ⎬ monster ! reader , mentions of body dysmorphia and imposter syndrome / depersonalization , religious trauma + blasphemy ( cause i can’t help myself ) specifically in catholicism , catholic rituals , depictions of eating raw meat , depictions of wounds , hurt / comfort , depictions of cannibalism , described body horror . smut : fire / burning kink , dry humping , fingering , male moans ( yay ! ) .

3 . 1 k words ++ not beta read .

PART TWO OUT NOW : CINNAMON GIRL

Eyes flutter closed, allowing darkness to wash over you. Soft sounds of birds chirping fill the room around you, drowning out the constant humming of the chip in the back of your neck. You’re hyper aware of everything, the fabric of the blanket that covers you and the cold air that stings your nose as you breath in; chest rising and falling in rhythm.

You remember how reluctant the guards that watched over you were to allow you the sounds you so desperately needed to sleep, not believing your pleas to quiet your constantly racing mind. Nearly a week without rest made them understand rather quickly, when, despite the power dampener locked around your neck, talons began to grow out of your hands and your spine contorted with the growing of fleshy wings.

It seems you’ve been blessed, something has gone right for once in your life as you’re now able to change the sounds to whatever you wish instead of the constant rushing of waves. Secretly, you’re happy to have been put on this mission. Grateful, even, as much as you could be to a monster like Waller. Perhaps you could even forgive her for the electrocution you’d been put through.

Weasel kips at the foot of your bed, stuck to your side since the day you had snapped at him: barred your fangs and shoved him away from you. Something about the beast had been so pathetic that you ended up apologizing and giving a hesitant scratch to the back of his ears. He’s good company, loyal if not a bit of a flea concern, and he listens when you speak to him unlike many of the others in the special containment of Belle Reave.

Nina was kind, as well, perhaps a bit out of her element, though. You’d once tried to make small talk with GI but that ended as quickly as it had started with his sudden interrogation on if you were a Nazi. And god, you wouldn’t dare bring anything up to the others.

Crickets chirped through the headphones you had been allowed to wear, owls hooting and birds calling. A forest at night, a beautiful scene you were sure you wouldn’t be able to see freely again, but you do not indulge in those negative thoughts. You can already feel it looming over you, exhaustion and stress mingling to bring it out. The thing that stirrs inside you, monstrous and ugly. Its hungry, and you know better than to ignore that hunger lest the Weasel that kips at the foot of your bed be more than a scrap of fur.

So, you stirr. Sitting up in the bed you remove your headphones and push the blanket from your form quietly as to not disturb him. He’s almost cute when he sleeps, like a crusty old dog that resembles more of a tattered blanket than a pet. Regardless, you close the door quietly behind you and walk down the long winding hallways of the palace. Truthfully, you had never been anywhere quite as lavish, never had a king sized bed all to yourself or a private bathroom. Its almost too big, especially at night when the shadows dance up the walls and cast an ominous glare over just about everything.

You know better than to gaze at your shadow as you pass the large walls with royal family portraits. Unworthy, unrighteous, evil. The rosary marks still pierce your skin, forced to pray this thing away day and night till your palms and knees bled. You’ve grown resentful towards the being that shares your body. It makes demands of you, to feast, a single slip can give way and allow it to control you. Some kind of devil, the reason you’re here in the first place.

Your mouth had begun to hurt in your search for the kitchen, gums beginning to bleed and pool against the base of your tongue.. You’d have thought you’d be used to this by now, that your world wouldn’t continue to be turned upside down, that the Lord’s Prayer wouldn’t recite involuntarily in your mind as it all starts over again. You stumble over your own two feet, finding yourself silently wishing you had that power dampener around your neck once again. Your stomach rumbles more.

It feels like an eternity till you finally find the kitchen, thankful that all the servants had retired for the night so you can spit your mouthful of blood into the sink. Crimson stains the marble, dripping from your chin as you turn on the faucet to wash your mouth of the taste. Your fangs had grown in now, taking space in front of your canines and piercing uncomfortably against your bottom lip whenever you close your mouth. Hunger gnaws at your stomach as if beginning to consume the lining itself.

You throw open the fridge door with little care of the noise it makes as it slams into the counter beside it. Eyes scour for something, anything, till you land on a large, raw goose marinating for tomorrow nights feast. Shaky hands reach out to grab it, allowing the glass tray it sits in to fall to the ground and shatter. The shards prick at your bare feet, cutting and marring your skin with more blood, though you don’t seem to notice.

Fangs sink into the bird, soft flesh breaking at the intrusion. The taste is almost euphoric, never had you tasted a meat so rich and fatty; your body had gotten far too used to the awful prison food they served in containment. You rip out a large chunk; tendons harshly snapping from the body as you swallow nearly without chewing. Your eyes gloss over as you devour the bird, reaching in to grab at the sausage links that had also been waiting to be cooked the next day.

You hadn’t realized how much you had truly lost yourself till a harsh green glow halted your feast. Head whipping around to greet the skeletal face of Phosphorus, a hiss falling from your lips that still wrapped around a chunk of meat like a food insecure cat. He was your least favorite of all, acting as if he knew everything simply because he had been a doctor before his incident. Not like it mattered in Belle Reave, and certainly not in the monster sector they were kept in.

“Woah. Calm down, I’m not takin’ that from you.” A huff came from him, head tilted to the side as he watched you, almost intrigued with the way you acted. He simply stepped past you, walking over to the sink and simply staring down at the blood that had graced the basin. “This yours?”

The link fell from your mouth, rolling into the shards of glass and crimson as the fangs retracted back into your gums, eyes returning to normal. All you could do was stare at him, as if he had asked the most stupid question in the world. Smartest man in the room your ass.

“Who else’s would it be?”

“Don’t know, thats why I’m asking. Flag and I got into a fight earlier and I totally won, so I’m just wondering.”

“Oh.”

He leans back against the countertop, facing you now, the sleeves of his hoodie protecting him from burning through the granite. Part of him had always intrigued you, in a way, everyone but Weasel had a signature outfit; but him? A hoodie and a pair of sweatpants. It was almost comical how simple he was, though you supposed there wasnt much he could keep. A step towards him, wincing at the sudden realization of what you had done.

His gaze followed yours, looking down to the glass and blood that gushed from your feet and ankles. The light from the fridge and his green glow illuminated the space between you two, dancing off the shards on the floor. Your mouth was covered as well, sloppily wiped onto your cheeks as you had feasted. God, you looked a mess, but the pain distracted you from that fact. Biting your bottom lip to muffle a pathetic whimper of pain.

“Cmon don’t cry, what’s a little glass among friends?”

“I am not crying.”

If he had eyes to roll no doubt he would’ve. Stepping over to you and hooking an arm around your shoulder to help you stand without any warning. Your first instinct is to fight him off, to tell him no and shout at him, but you don’t. Instead, you lean into the touch and allow him to help you hobble up the stairs to, what you originally assume to be your room, but soon discover he’s guiding you into his, and then, into his bathroom.

Theres something almost intimate about the way he grabs your hips to help you onto the counter so he can patch you up. You hadn’t asked this from him, but it didn’t seem to matter much now as he filled a bucket with warm soapy water, dunking a rag in a few times and using the help of tweezers to pick the glass out of your skin. You do your best not to flinch, using the time to preoccupy yourself with washing off the blood from your face.

John 13. You detest the thought, Belle Reave had ripped every ounce of belief from your body, but the ceremonies and rituals of your youth had not quite left your mind, and the intimacy of the moment didn’t help. Silence filled the room, the only noises being the soft sounds of the wash cloth being dunked into the water and squeezed out. You’d seen it before, a relatives wedding, the washing of the feet ceremony. It’s meant to be intimate, to be between spouses, to show commitment and love just as Jesus had to his disciples. You feel far more like Judas, however, with the monster that festers inside you.

“So. What was that?” His voice snaps you from your thoughts, eyes fluttering down to look at him, hesitating at his question. You don’t have a good answer, not one that wraps everything up into a neat bow at the least. Just what you know, which isn’t much.

“It’s the reason I’m classified as a monster. Theres… something that lives inside me, a devil of sorts I was always told. It’s been there for as long as I can remember, its why I had to wear the collar back in confinement. It starts to creep out whenever I slip, get too comfortable or let my guard down.” You’re quiet, not wanting to break the softness of this encounter. “I’m sorry you had to see it.”

“You don’t have to apologize. We’re all freaks, its the whole point of this task force.”

“I guess. I’m still sorry.”

A huff comes from Phosphorus as he grabs a clean washcloth, dunking it in fresh water and reaching up to wipe off some of the blood that you had missed, that still marrs your mouth and flesh. He’s close, now, very much so. He smells of sulfur, though it does not cause you to recoil or scrunch your nose; its a scent you’ve grown accustomed to with the monster that shares your body. Can a skeleton be attractive? Is that possible?

You lean into the feeling of the warm washcloth against your cheek; having been so long since someone had touched you. Before you had been arrested you indulged in sin, lust, it had engulfed your body and it wasn’t a feeling you ever wanted to encounter again. How it could consume your entire being, give control over to someone other than yourself. It’s a fine line for you, but you feel the distantly familiar feeling of butterflies flutter in your stomach at the proximity of him.

You feel sick; like bile will creep up your throat any moment, but it doesn’t feel bad. Not with how he lets the cloth be a barrier between the two of you, between his hands that will burn your body at his touch. You’d welcome it, to let him cauterize your wounds and fix you. Your hands creep up to wrap around the back of his neck, protected by the hood of his sweater as you pull him closer. He’s warm, comfortable.

“I don’t like you apologizing, you look like a kicked puppy.”

“You’re smiling, though.”

“Can’t help it, I’m a skeleton, doll.”

His voice is a giveaway, though, possibly the most upbeat you had heard him despite the quiet and intimate nature of the room. You feel it, the radiating warmth from his other hand creeping down to your thigh, rubbing soft, soothing circles against the fabric that protects your skin from his touch. It would hurt, but a part of you almost welcomes it, wants to feel it.

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth, eyes focused on the hand that slowly crept higher from your thigh. He’s close, his heat rivaling that at your core. You miss the way his head tilts to the side at your demeanor, hands grasping and releasing the fabric of his hoodie over and over.

Phosphorus said nothing as he continued to wipe some of the blood from your mouth, lingering over your bottom lip while his other hand becomes preoccupied with cupping you over your pajama pants, skeletal fingers pressing in to give you some friction.

That nausea you had felt earlier returns tenfold, punishing yourself for feeling anything remotely good. The situation reminds you far too much of the last time, dipping too far into bliss. It seemed you had only blinked when the body of the lover you had found for the night was strewn across the room, spitting half eaten entrails out of your maw. He guides you to lean back against the mirror, your hand clasping over your mouth to muffle your sounds as he slips below the fabric of your nightwear.

You can feel it again, the hunger that rises to your chest. Your hands shake against your skin now, nailbeds aching with the growing of your talons. A whimper, squeezing your eyes shut. You are selfish, greedy. You’d rather relish in this than warn him, to have one moment that allows you to feel human, to feel wanted and loved.

A sudden burning feeling rips you from your thoughts, your hand had been removed from its post over your mouth and was held in his. Tears well in your eyes at the feeling, the searing pain that washed over your body and forces you to see white. It aches, branding you.

“Shit.” Is all that falls from his mouth, moving his hand away before you needily grasp it once more. Intertwining your fingers, keeping him there. The pain had forced the monster away, talons no longer threatening to protrude from your nailbeds and spine ceasing its contorting. You are lucky, graced with an opportunity to feel something beneath the endless pit in your stomach. To feel him.

“Don’t stop.” Your breathless words are more than enough to encourage his continuation, slotting himself between you legs and pressing the suddenly tight fabric of his sweatpants against you. A soft sigh falling from your lips, head tilted back, hair fluffing up on the mirror as he began to rock against you.

“I wont.” Slow, at first, as if testing the waters to gauge your reaction. Soft whines emitting from somewhere behind the skeletal teeth that were on display for you. Your hand scrunches up his hoodie, dragging his chest closer to you as he began to pick up the pace.

Needy and pathetic, his hips grinding rougher against your pajama pants, the tent in his pants catching on your covered clit; pulling a gasp from you as you arched your back. He focused his movements in that spot, up and then down to elicit soft whines and moans from you. Matching his neediness, having been touched starved for so long.

You’d grown up with depictions of heaven, imaginary white fluffy clouds somewhere high above the Earth. But here, right now, you’re more than convinced this is paradise. Rough fabrics rocking against each other, keeping you grounded on the countertop you sit on, the mirror behind you beginning to fog up with your heavy breathing. Your hands still intertwined, the harsh stinging drowned out at the near bliss you faced.

Hes sloppy now, nearing his finish far faster than you despite your state. Harsh whines fall from him as he grinds against you a few more times before panting and leaning against you. He’s winded for a moment, catching his breath, though the hand not holding yours travels back down to rub against your core.

Hes rough, guiding you to gush around nothing. You can feel your heartbeat below, drumming uncomfortably as you bury your face in the neck of his hoodie. His hand slips below your pajamas once more, continuing to tease your swollen clit and soaked folds as tears pricked at your eyes, squeezing his hand to single for him to stop.

Within a moment, he did. Ceasing the torment though not removing his hand from under your pants. Allowing your juices to pool against the cotton of your underwear before guiding his hand lower, placing his palm flat against your thigh and removing his other hand from yours. It stings, the cleansing fire emitting from him, your hand already burned as he brands your thigh with his handprint.

“Perhaps we should act like this didn’t happen… I’m sure it would make being on a team awkward.”

“I-... Yeah. Agreed. I should, um, head to bed.” Awkward you lift yourself from the counter and fix your pajama pants, slipping off the granite and setting against the cold tile floor. Your feet still hurt, though not nearly as bad as they had hurt before and surely nothing in comparison to the feeling of him against your skin.

He gives little more than a nod as you slink out the door, stumbling down the hall to find your own room and quickly running a hot bath. It would soothe you, make everything better, you deemed. Stripping to allow yourself to sink into the warmth as a sigh falls from your lips, eyes drawn to the handprint marked on your thigh.

You trace the outline with your finger, over and over almost obsessively and silently cursing him for his words. An asshole, you remembered, your least favorite in the little ragtag team. Though, with the way he had whimpered and moaned against you, you were halfway convinced you may be able to fuck the sarcasm and ill wit out of him.

[spxllcxstxr]

Jayce and Viktor Dating Someone with ADHD • Headcanon

(Gif not mine)

Request: Hiiii how are you? I love your stories so I was wondering if you could write more jayvik x reader but who has adhd? TYSMM -- anon and Your Jayvik + reader headcanons have me are giddy and are healing my soul. Is it possible to ask for a some headcanons with a reader who has ADHD and also forgets to eat because of it?? I hope your day is kind to you! -- anon

Warnings: gn!reader, reader has ADHD, mentions of food and eating/not eating, these are lowkey kinda short im so sorry lol

A.N: Disclaimer: I don't have ADHD but I have many friends that do and while ADHD presents itself differently for people, I tried to keep this a bit generalized, I hope that's ok!! If anything needs changing or needs to be deleted for being inaccurate or anything, just let me know! Hope you guys enjoy!!

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Jayce and Viktor are both very understanding people, so when you told them you had ADHD they didn’t have a problem with it. They are, however, problem solvers (they are inventors with the dream of making Piltover and Zaun better for the people), meaning they are very curious about your habits and how they can help. They don’t want to “cure” you, because there’s nothing to cure, but they want to understand how to reassure you and how to make living with ADHD easier on a day-to-day basis

If you’re someone who fidgets with things a lot, Jayce will happily pick up the task of making something that satisfies your need to occupy your hands and your thoughts. He loves being in the forge and he’ll gladly let you sit in there with him and listen to you describe what you would want. He’ll sit next to you, sketching out the design while you ramble about what textures are better than others or how weighty it should feel in your hand. Jayce honestly loves this little side project; not only does it let him work on something other than his research, but it also puts a smile on your face

If you like rambling for hours about your latest hyperfixation, Viktor is the best for that. He has a naturally curious mind and would love to learn something new. He especially likes it when your head is resting on his chest in the middle of the night. Viktor likes watching you move your hands as you talk excitably about the plant life in Ionia or the history of the Yordles. He doesn’t just listen—he’ll ask you questions or give you reading material he thinks you may like as well

Going to Council parties or even just walking through Piltover can really overwhelm you sometimes, either with all the noise or the texture of your clothing feeling off, so your partners are very attentive to your wellbeing. The three of you set up a codeword for anyone to use when someone needs or wants to leave. They try to make it something funny every time to hopefully ease the panic a little bit. Usually Jayce and Viktor are glued to either side of you hip, but in the off chance they have to roam around the room, the two of them will try to keep an eye on you. They will always reassure you that it's ok that they are leaving these sorts of events early (Viktor barely wants to go in the first place), and when you get home the three of you will do something to calm everyone down and get into comfortable clothes

Having ADHD, you tend to get distracted/forget to do certain things. This usually includes eating. Your partners never want to seem overbearing or like they're smothering you, so they will try to subtly remind you to eat/do certain things. Jayce likes writing you little notes and putting them in the apartment. Usually they have little hearts in the corners with some encouraging remark after "remember to eat!" Viktor will usually try to eat with you, so you won't feel alone while eating. He'll be making something and he'll set the table for either two or three and that just reminds you to actually sit down and eat what Viktor makes

Your partners are very patient and are always open to new ideas. if you want them to do something different or if something works really well, they would love to hear it. They absolutely will not be mad at all, they love you so much and all they want to do is help make things easier for you

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