#ah back to my roots lol

[cosmicdreamgrl]

𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘫𝘬 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴: (65/?)┃𝘤𝘳 : 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥

[zepskies]

Imagine: Soldier Boy Getting Jealous...

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x F. Reader || (past Frenchie x F. Reader)

Request: Soldier Boy finding out you had something with Frenchie, years before meeting him.

Word Count: 1K

Tags/Warnings: Jealousy lol (With a hint of spice.~)

Imagine: Ben getting jealous over your past relationship with Frenchie.

He doesn't care.

Because he doesn't care...

When you sit him down in the living room of your apartment and tell him you used to date Frenchie, Ben's reaction is mild at best. To the point where it kind of concerns you.

Ben raises a brow and gives a deep hum.

"Oh, really? That limey bastard?" he remarks. He takes a sip from his tumbler of whiskey. You give him a weary sigh.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't call him that," you reply. You and Frenchie are still friends. Your "entanglement" was years ago, before he even started hooking up with Cherie.

But you still want to be honest with Ben. You two have been dating for a few months now, and it's actually serious. No one's more surprised than you by that fact, but...you're happy. You think he is too.

At your response, however, Ben rolls his eyes and continues drinking. You tilt your head in suspicion.

"So you're chill?" you ask.

"Chill?" he quirks a brow at you. Your lips form a smile.

"You're okay with this," you amend.

Ben shrugs and turns on the TV, trying to navigate the streaming apps. You’d put him on to Game of Thrones. Even three seasons into his binge-watching, he doesn’t want to admit that he’s hooked.

"You're fucking a real man now, sweetheart. No skin off my nose," he says.

It's your turn to roll your eyes, despite a warm blush stinging your cheeks.

But the next time you all go out together to a club in the city, Ben watches you leave his side to say hello to your friends: Annie, Hughie, Frenchie and Kimiko. Frenchie takes your hands and makes a show of looking you up and down.

"Well, well. She shoots to kill tonight, eh?" Frenchie says. When he leans in to kiss your cheek, he whispers, "Ah, black leather. My old favorite."

"Stop," you warn with a smile, hitting his shoulder. He's absolutely shameless. "You're too much."

"And you are just enough," Frenchie returns. He whistles playfully as he raises your hand to twirl you around, showing you off in your little black dress and red-bottom heels.

You laugh, but you bump into Ben when you twirl for the second time. Your laughter cuts off abruptly when you see the flinty look on his face, though he's clinging to stoicism.

Frenchie’s eyes widen as he seems to realize the very real danger he's put himself in. He wisely lets go of your hand, pivots on his heel and goes with Kimiko over to the dance floor.

Meanwhile, you move back to Ben's side and try to placate him by looping your arm through his. He responds by wrapping a strong arm around your waist. His eyes bore into the back of Frenchie's head so hard, you almost expect laser beams to come out of them.

"Come on, let's get a drink," you suggest, patting a hand on Ben's chest. He looks good tonight in a burgundy button-down shirt tucked into his slacks.

Ben wordlessly agrees to your suggestion, but he grabs a stool and drags it close to his own seat. He does help you by the hand onto the stool, but then his arm wraps back around your waist, pulling you in snugly, possessively to his side.

You try not to smile in amusement. It's a caveman's display, but at least you know the root cause this time.

...Okay, maybe you feel the tiniest bit complicit, but really, you think Ben's overreacting.

After he flags down the bartender and orders his bourbon and your martini, you tap against his bearded cheek, earning his green-eyed attention.

"You okay?" you ask knowingly.

"Just fine," he deadpans.

"Oh, well that's convincing," you say with a smile. "Do I need to remind you that I'm here with you?"

Ben's gaze hardens. "I don't know. You were pretty happy to let that French whore put his fucking hands all over you—"

"All right. Calm down, Rambo," you say, trying not to laugh as you rub his arm. "Sorry, baby. That's just how we've always cut up. It doesn't mean anything."

Ben scoffs in derision. "Yeah? Fuck if I care."

You frown at that, sparking with annoyance. Somehow, now you actually do feel guilty. You and Frenchie have bounced off each other like Derek and Garcia for so long, you didn't even realize how it might look...or how it might make your boyfriend feel.

Because even with all that ego and injured pride, you have a feeling there's a real sting of hurt under there.

"Hey," you say, squeezing Ben's wrist. His gaze remains stubbornly on the bartender making your drinks.

You decide to take matters more firmly into your hands.

Reaching up for his chin, you guide Ben's face toward yours and press a kiss to his lips. It's slow at first, but it soon gains in passion. His teeth graze your bottom lip, before his tongue demands entrance into your mouth with claiming purpose.

It elicits a hint of a moan from you, your fingers clenching in his hair. Your nails drag against his scalp, almost making him shudder.

Your supple lips eventually pull away from his, nice and slow.

"Your hands are the only hands I care about touching me," you say. Your expression twinkles with mischief as you toy with the zipper on the side of your dress.

"As a matter of fact, I need your help," you add. "This zipper keeps catching on something. I think it's stuck."

Quite possibly because someone got a little handsy in the cab on the way here.

Ben smirks, though he claims your lips in one more slightly rough kiss before he answers.

"Well that is a problem," he says. His eyes roam down your face, taking in your thoroughly kissed lips, and the cleavage peeking out at him from the neckline of your dress.

"Think I can give you a hand," he says, as his actual hand slips down your leg. His fingers brush along the inside of your thigh, tingling across your skin. His half-lidded gaze once again meeting yours. "Better take you out back and fix you up."

You laugh, despite the return of your blush. You cling to his shoulders, while his fingers burn a tantalizing trail upwards.

"Oh, yeah. Save me, Soldier Boy!" you tease.

He snorts in response, but he helps guide you out of your seat.

Moments later, all your friends find at the bar are two forgotten drinks and a couple of empty stools.

AN: Ah, jealous Ben. It's fun to imagine. 😂

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

SB Tag List (Part 1):

@melancholictearz @spnwoman @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions

@samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @anticxrrupt @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky

@teehxk @midnightmadwoman @iprobablyshipit91 @agalliasi @venicesem

@deans-spinster-witch @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees

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@wincastifer @emily-winchester @tearsfortheyouth @solo-pitstop-vibes @dope-trope-105

@liuope @beautyvaliant @xxlaynaxx @chernayawidow @tmb510

@iamsapphine @roseblue373 @lacilou @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waynes-multiverse

[ponderingmoonlight]

Going to "your spot" after the breakup and finding your ex aka jjk men there too

Pairings: Gojo x fem!reader; Geto x fem!reader; Megumi x fem!reader; Sukuna/Yuji x fem!reader

Word Count: 5,2k (well this took me quite some time lol)

Warnings: hurt hurt hurt und slight comfort in every part or a lot of comfort in some of the parts, please excuse a few mistakes here and there, omg Sukuna's part is sooo hot, idk but somehow EVERY scenario screams part 2 to me?

Gojo Satoru

You haven’t been back here in weeks.

The café is small, hidden between two noisy streets, easy to miss if you don’t know it’s here. That’s why it became your spot. After the breakup, it was the only place that felt like yours, where you could think without the weight of everything hanging over you, where you were able to think about anything else but him. As you step inside, the familiar sound of chatter blends with the whir of the espresso machine, and for a second, it feels like you can finally breathe.

But then you see him.

Gojo Satoru, sitting at your favorite booth, long legs stretched out under the table, an easy smirk playing on his lips like he’s waiting for something amusing to happen. His signature sunglasses sit crooked on his nose, as though even they can’t take him seriously.

Your heart stumbles, caught between old emotions and the sharp sting of reality. You broke up months ago. So why does it feel like time hasn’t moved at all? You freeze, standing in the doorway, unsure if you should leave before he notices you. But it’s already too late.

“Ah, there you are,” his voice is casual, like he expected you to show up.

Like this is all normal.

You blink, unsure how to respond. He waves you over, patting the seat across from him with that infuriating grin still plastered on his face.

“C’mon, don’t stand there like a ghost. Sit.”

You consider walking out, to run away and never return. But something keeps you rooted in place. Maybe it’s curiosity, or maybe it’s the way he looks at you - like he knows something you don’t. Against your better judgment, you step forward and slide into the booth across from him.

“What are you doing here, Satoru?” you ask, keeping your voice steady, though it’s hard to ignore the way your chest tightens with old memories.

“Same thing you’re doing,” he replies, leaning back in his seat as if he owns the place.

“Thinking. Drinking coffee. Enjoying life.”

His nonchalance rubs you the wrong way. It always has. Even during the relationship, Gojo was an enigma. Always present, yet somehow distant, like he existed in a world slightly out of sync with yours. It made things exciting… and exhausting.

You look away, glancing out the window as you gather your thoughts.

“You’re in my spot. And I’m not enjoying life when you’re around.”

He laughs, the sound light and almost mocking.

“Your spot, huh? Last time I checked, cafés don’t have names on seats.”

You sigh. There’s no point in arguing with him. Not when he twists words like this. You turn back to face him, crossing your arms over your chest while forcing your racing heart to calm down.

“What do you want?”

His grin fades slightly, but his playful air remains. He taps his fingers on the table, thoughtful.

“What, I can’t just run into you and say hi?”

You arch an eyebrow.

“Here? Really?”

His head tilts, sunglasses sliding down a little to reveal those impossibly blue eyes. Eyes that have seen too much, understood too little, yet always managed to draw you in.

“Fine,” he says, voice softening just a little.

“Maybe I knew you’d be here.”

Of course he did. Gojo always had a way of knowing things he shouldn’t. It’s both frustrating and oddly comforting. You’re not sure how you feel about him tracking you down like this. There’s a part of you that wants to yell at him, tell him to leave you alone and stop making everything so confusing. But another part, one you don’t want to admit to, wonders if this means something. If he regrets it. If this is his version of an apology. If there’s a chance for both of you to get back.

But this is Satoru, and he doesn’t do apologies.

Instead, he just watches you, like he’s waiting for you to say something. You realize he’s not going to make the first move, so you speak, your voice low but steady.

“Why now?”

He leans forward, elbows on the table, a serious look settling on his face.

“Because I’ve been thinking. About us.”

Your heart skips a beat, but you keep your expression neutral. You’ve been down this road before. It’s not the first time you hear those words leaving his mouth.

“And?”

“I messed up,” he admits, surprising you.

His eyes are locked on yours, no smirk, no teasing in his voice.

“I thought I could just… walk away. But I can’t.”

It’s not like Gojo to be vulnerable. The words hang between you, heavy and real in a way that most of your conversations with him never were.

You’re silent for a moment, the hurt still fresh despite the months that have passed.

“You always think you can fix things with words, Satoru. But this isn’t something you can just smooth over.”

His gaze softens, the boldness slipping just a little.

“I know. But I want to try.”

You don’t know how to respond. This is what you’d wanted for so long. For him to admit it, to take things seriously. But now that it’s happening, you feel more conflicted than ever. You’d built walls around your heart, braced yourself for the fact that he wasn’t coming back.

And here he is, asking for another chance.

“I don’t know if I can do this again,” you murmur, the words spilling out before you can stop them.

For once, Gojo doesn’t have a snappy comeback. He just nods, as if he’s expected this answer. His hand moves toward yours, but he stops short, fingers hovering above the table.

“Just… think about it, okay?”

Thinking about it another minute after crying yourself to sleep over those constant thought around him? You don’t know if you can. But you nod anyway, more for his sake than your own. There’s no use in arguing with him. Not here, not now. Not when your feelings are scattered all over the comforting café.

He gets up, his usual swagger returning as he pulls on his jacket. His hand touches your shoulder so slightly that you would’ve missed it normally.

But not when it’s him. Not when his fingertips brush like fire over your skin. Not when you couldn’t stop thinking about his touch for months. Your head goes numb, glossy eyes staring up in search for something, anything that snaps you back into reality.

“I’ll be around.”

And just like that, he’s gone, leaving you alone in your spot - wondering if this place will ever feel the same again, wondering if he was honest.

Geto Suguru

It feels strange to be back here, almost surreal.

The old bookstore is tucked between two more modern shops, easy to miss unless you’re looking for it. You used to love coming here: quiet, the smell of old books, the dim lighting that gave it an intimate, almost sacred atmosphere. It had been your spot. Your escape when life felt too heavy. But now, after everything with Suguru, the air feels heavier wherever you go.

You step inside, the familiar scent of paper and ink hitting you immediately. For a moment, it feels like nothing has changed. But as your eyes scan the shelves, your heart stops.

He’s here.

Geto Suguru, standing by the philosophy section, his back turned to you. His long black hair is tied back like it always was, and his posture is as relaxed as ever. He looks like he belongs here, like he’s just another part of the quiet serenity of this place. But to you, he’s a storm.

You stand frozen, unsure of what to do. It’s been months since the breakup, since things fell apart between you two. And yet, seeing him here, in your sanctuary, feels like a breach of some unspoken boundary. He hasn’t noticed you yet, too absorbed in whatever book he’s holding.

You could leave, slip out before he sees you. But something keeps you rooted to the spot. Maybe it’s the unresolved tension between you. Maybe it’s the questions that still linger in your mind, unanswered since the day he walked away.

Before you can decide, he turns.

And his eyes lock onto yours.

For a moment, neither of you move. His expression remains unreadable, that calm mask he always wore in place. But there’s something in his eyes, something that flickers and fades too quickly for you to grasp.

“Hey,” he speaks up softly, his voice like a distant echo of something once familiar.

You swallow, feeling a tightness in your throat that reminds you of all those countless tears you’ve cried over that boy.

“Hi.”

There’s a brief silence, thick with everything unsaid between you. He takes a small step closer, still holding the book in his hand, though his attention is entirely on you now.

“I didn’t expect to see you here.”

You give a short, humorless laugh.

“Neither did I.”

He glances around, his eyes tracing the old shelves, the worn chairs, the little alcove where the two of you used to sit for hours, lost in conversation.

“Still your favorite spot?”

You shrug, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to maintain some distance, some control over the situation. Oh, how much you hate to admit it. You’d never say it out loud, but somehow you are trapped to this place. Trapped in memories, trapped in those whiskey eyes darting back and forth written pages.

“I don’t know. It doesn’t feel the same anymore.”

Suguru’s gaze returns to you, and for the first time, there’s a hint of something in his expression. Regret, maybe? Or something close to it.

“Yeah,” he says quietly.

“I get that.”

Another silence stretches between you, and you can feel the weight of the past pressing down on both of you. This was where you used to come together, where things between you felt simple, uncomplicated. But now, with the distance and the hurt still lingering, it feels like everything is just… broken.

“What are you doing here, Suguru?” you finally blurt out, your voice softer than you intended.

You’re not sure if you’re asking why he’s in the bookstore or why he’s in your life at all.

He looks down at the book in his hand for a moment, then back at you.

“I’ve been thinking. About us. About how things ended. It’s like I’m glued to this place. Or well, rather to you.”

You inhale sharply, your chest tightening at the mention of us.

“It didn’t end well,” you remark, the bitterness slipping into your tone despite your efforts to keep it out.

“I know,” he murmurs, and there’s no defensiveness in his voice, no argument.

 Just quiet acceptance.

“I didn’t handle things the way I should have.”

That catches you off guard. Geto Suguru was always so sure of himself, so unwavering in his convictions, even when it hurt. Hearing him admit to a mistake feels almost foreign.

You blink, not sure how to respond.

“What do you want, Suguru?”

He steps closer, the distance between you shrinking, though there’s still an ocean of emotions that neither of you knows how to cross.

“I want to talk. To explain.”

You feel your heart clench, torn between the desire to finally hear his side and the fear of reopening wounds that haven’t fully healed.

“Explain what? Why you left? Why you just… disappeared?”

His expression softens, and for a moment, the mask slips. You see the Suguru you once knew, the one who used to look at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

“It wasn’t about you. I left because… I wasn’t right. I wasn’t in a place where I could be with you the way you deserved.”

You close your eyes for a second, trying to process his words, but the hurt is still there, raw and real.

“You could have told me. I would’ve understood.”

“I didn’t want to burden you,” he continues, and there’s a sadness in his voice that you haven’t heard before.

“I thought… I thought leaving was the right thing to do. That it would make things easier.”

You shake your head, emotions swirling inside you, too many to untangle.

“It didn’t. It just made things worse.”

He doesn’t argue, doesn’t try to justify himself. He just stands there, watching you with an expression that’s equal parts regret and something you can’t quite name.

“I know. And I’m sorry.”

The apology hangs in the air, and for a moment, you don’t know what to say. It’s what you’ve wanted to hear for so long, but now that it’s here, it doesn’t feel like enough.

But maybe nothing ever will.

You sigh, feeling the weight of the past months pressing down on you.

“Suguru… I don’t know if we can go back to how things were.”

“I’m not asking for that,” he replies quickly.

“I just… I wanted you to know that I’m sorry. And that I didn’t leave because of you. It was me.”

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. The emotions are too tangled, too raw. But maybe, just maybe, this is a start. An acknowledgment of the pain, of the mistakes. A step toward healing.

“I should go,” you say after a moment, your voice soft but firm.

He doesn’t try to stop you, but there’s a lingering look in his eyes as you turn to leave.

“Take care of yourself,” he breathes out, his voice low, almost a whisper.

You nod, and before you really know what happens, you find yourself in front of him, your nose caressed by his signature smell hanging in the air, your arms aiming for the back of his neck.

Before you really know what happens, Suguru devours you into his strong arms, pressing you against his pounding heart, the warmth of his body you missed so deeply.

“Just a moment”, you mutter against his chest.

“Give me just one second, let me feel this again.”

Megumi Fushiguro

It’s quiet here, the way it always is.

The park bench tucked beneath the large oak tree was your refuge long before you even met Megumi. It’s where you’ve come to think, to escape, to just breathe. But ever since the breakup, it feels… different. As if something’s been stolen from the air, leaving it heavy and suffocating.

You sit down on the bench, pulling your coat tighter against the breeze, and stare out at the trees swaying gently in the wind. The peace you once felt here seems unreachable now. No matter how hard you try to reclaim this place as yours, there’s still a part of it that belongs to him.

And then, as if summoned by your thoughts, you see him.

Megumi is standing a few feet away, his hands in his pockets, his usual stoic expression slightly softened by the dappled light filtering through the branches. He hasn’t noticed you yet, his eyes focused on something in the distance, lost in thought.

Your heart clenches at the sight of him. It’s been weeks since you last spoke, since everything fell apart between you. The last time you saw him, it was in the heat of an argument, words flying like knives, both of you too stubborn to back down. But now, standing there under the shadow of the oak tree, he looks so… normal. Like nothing’s changed. Like he’s still the boy you fell hopelessly in love with.

You wonder if he feels the same knot of tension that’s twisting in your stomach, or if he’s moved on already, like everything between you was just another fleeting chapter in his life. Did he miss you like you’ve missed him? Does he think of you from time to time?

Before you can decide whether to leave or stay, his eyes shift, and they land on you.

He freezes, his posture stiffening slightly, though his expression remains unreadable. For a moment, neither of you moves. You can’t tell if the look on his face is surprise, regret, or something else entirely. All you know is that seeing him here feels like reopening a wound that hasn’t fully healed.

“Hey,” you say softly, breaking the silence before it becomes unbearable.

“Hey,” he echoes, his voice low, almost cautious.

You shift on the bench, not sure whether to stand or stay seated. There’s an awkwardness in the air, thick and uncomfortable, but Megumi doesn’t seem motivated to move either. Instead, he stays where he is, watching you with those intense, dark eyes of his - the same eyes that used to look at you with warmth, with something close to tenderness. Now, they’re guarded, carefully concealing whatever he’s feeling.

“What are you doing here?” you question, your voice steadier than you feel.

He shrugs, his gaze briefly flickering away before coming back to you.

 “I’ve always come here. Before we even met.”

The admission stings a little, reminding you that this park, this bench, wasn’t just yours. It was his too. A shared space that neither of you seemed ready to give up, even after the breakup.

“Yeah, same”, you murmur.

Another silence falls between you, but this one feels different. Less strained, more… cautious. Like both of you are waiting for the other to make the next move, to say something that might break the tension or, at the very least, acknowledge it.

Megumi takes a small step closer, his hands still shoved deep in his pockets.

“How have you been?”

The question catches you off guard. It’s such a simple, normal thing to ask, but coming from him, it feels loaded. You hesitate for a moment before answering.

“I’ve been… okay, I guess. It’s been hard, but I’m getting through it.”

He nods, his expression still unreadable.

“Good.”

You glance up at him, studying his face, searching for some sign of what he’s thinking. Megumi was always hard to read, even when things were good between you. He had a habit of keeping his emotions buried, only letting them slip through in small, subtle ways: a twitch of his mouth, the way his eyes would soften just slightly when he looked at you. Now, though, you’re not sure what he’s holding back. Does he even care about you?

“What about you?” you ask, your voice quieter now.

“How’ve you been?”

He shifts his weight slightly, his eyes flicking away for just a second before meeting yours again.

“I’ve been… okay too. I guess.”

The honesty in his voice surprises you. Megumi was never one for unnecessary words, but hearing him admit that he’s been struggling too sends a small wave of relief through you. Maybe it’s selfish, but knowing that this hasn’t been easy for him either makes you feel less alone in your own pain.

You lower your gaze, picking at a loose thread on your sleeve.

“It’s weird, isn’t it? Being here. Like nothing’s changed, but everything has.”

He doesn’t respond immediately, but when he does, his voice is soft, thoughtful.

“Yeah. It is.”

For a moment, the two of you just stand there, the quiet of the park settling around you. It’s strange, but in a way, it feels almost peaceful. As if the weight of your shared history, of everything that’s happened, is still there but somehow lighter now that you’re both acknowledging it.

Finally, Megumi breaks the silence again.

“I didn’t want things to end the way they did.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words, the rawness in his voice cutting through the distance between you. You glance up at him, and for the first time since you saw him standing there, his mask slips. There’s a flicker of regret in his eyes, something he’s trying to keep hidden but can’t fully suppress.

“I didn’t either,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

He looks down at the ground, his brows furrowing slightly as if he’s wrestling with something inside him.

“I don’t know if we can fix this,” he admits, his tone uncertain in a way that Megumi rarely is.

“But… I don’t want to pretend like none of it mattered.”

You nod, understanding exactly what he means. There’s no easy fix for what happened between you. The arguments, the misunderstandings, the way you both pushed each other away instead of reaching out - it all still lingers, heavy and unresolved. But that doesn’t erase what you had. It doesn’t make it any less real.

“I don’t either. It mattered. It still matters.”

For a moment, you think he might say more, but then he just nods, the weight of the conversation settling between you. There’s no grand reconciliation, no dramatic declarations of love or promises to try again. Just the simple truth that what you shared was real, and that it’s okay for it to still mean something, even if it’s over.

Megumi exhales softly, his breath misting in the cool air.

“Is it okay if I…Sit next to you for a moment?”

Your eyes dart up, search for a single spark of sarcasm in the ocean of his eyes. Is this a test, a joke by any chance? No, despite all the things that happened between you, Megumi would never do this to you. This is a real request.

“I-…Of course”, you mutter, scooting over so that he doesn’t have to touch you while awkwardly sitting down.

“Do you remember when Yuji caught us together for the first time? It was right here. On this bench.”

The warmth that fills your heart is almost instantly replaced by the familiar sting you know so well by know. Oh, if he only knew how often you replayed that memory inside your head, how many nights you thought about the way his lips felt against yours that day. And now you might never be able to feel him again like that. He’ll never look at you like he did that day.

“He was acting ridiculous”, you comment with a melancholic little laughter.

“I still owe him for it”, he remarks with low voice.

“After all, he made me realize what I felt for you. And that I never lost that spark.”

Your heart almost stops beating, hands now shaking so violently that you are forces to cling onto them. Did he really just say that? Megumi, who didn’t even text or call a single time after the breakup, who did his best to avoid you. Is he serious? He can’t be.

“(y/n), I…I never really stopped loving you. That’s why I’m coming here every free minute, that’s why I’m sitting on the other end of this park while watching you from afar. I can’t…I just can’t let go. But maybe this isn’t the right timing and I should let you go.”

Your mouth feels dry like the desert, glossy eyes locking with his. Is this a dream, another nightmare that haunts you far past midnight? Out of trance, you grab his hand and engulf it with your shaky one. It feels like it always did. Warm, comforting. But somehow, it’s killing you inside.

Megumi doesn’t flinch back. Instead, he returns the pressure of your palms, intertwines his fingers with yours. What an innocent and yet intimate gesture: Holding hands during the sunset at fall, the heavy feelings of your past lingering over both of you like an unpromising shadow.

For minutes. Or no, rather hours. Until all the lights are down low and the whole park has gone empty. Until it’s only you and him left.

“I should go,” he says after a moment, his voice gentle.

You nod, not trusting yourself to say more. There’s a part of you that wants to ask him to stay, to keep talking, but you know that some things are better left unsaid for now.

As he turns to leave after returning you home, you watch him walk away, his figure slowly disappearing among the trees. And for the first time in weeks, the park doesn’t feel quite so heavy.

Sukuna

You didn’t come here to see him.

In fact, you come to this place to escape everything, to clear your head, to get some distance from the chaos of life. The abandoned temple ruins, tucked away deep in the forest, have always been your sanctuary. A place where you could sit in the quiet and feel the world stop spinning for a little while. You hadn’t told anyone about it. Not even him.

But the moment you step into the clearing, you feel it. A presence. A dark, heavy energy that coils around you like a cold hand gripping your throat.

And then you see him.

Sukuna, or rather, Yuji’s body twisted into something darker, sharper, lounging casually on one of the broken stone pillars. His blood-red eyes gleam as they lock onto you, his mouth curling into a wicked grin. The sight of him, so comfortable and out of place here, makes your stomach churn. How did he even find this place? Why is he here?

“Fancy meeting you here,” Sukuna drawls, his voice a deep rumble that’s too smug for comfort.

“You always did have good taste.”

You stop dead in your tracks, heart pounding, your mind racing with a million questions. But the most prominent one is simple: Why?

“This is my spot,” you bite back, your voice firmer than you feel.

You can’t let him know how unnerved you are, how your whole body threatens to shiver any given minute.

“What are you doing here?”

Sukuna chuckles, stretching like a predator lounging in the sun, completely at ease.

“Your spot?”

He mocks the words, his tone dripping with amusement.

“I think you’ve forgotten who I am, haven’t you? I go where I please.”

There’s a tension in the air, thick and oppressive. You want to turn around and leave, but something about the way his eyes are watching you, like he’s waiting for something, keeps you rooted to the ground. This is different from every other time you’ve encountered Sukuna. He’s always been cruel, detached, but there’s something sharper in the way he’s looking at you now. Something personal.

You swallow, forcing yourself to stay calm.

“If you’re here to mess with me, just get it over with,” you snap, crossing your arms.

You’ve dealt with enough of Sukuna’s games to know that nothing good comes from engaging with him and that he’s only here to waste your time and watch you bleed.

“I don’t have time for this.”

His grin widens, showing sharp teeth.

“You wound me,” he purrs, though the mockery in his voice makes it clear he’s far from wounded.

“I’m not here to ‘mess with you,’ as you so delicately put it. I was curious.”

You blink, not expecting that answer.

“Curious about what?”

Sukuna stands slowly, his movements deliberate, almost predatory. He doesn’t approach you, but the distance between you feels smaller now, suffocating.

“Curious about what you see in him,” he replies, his voice low and dangerous.

It takes you a second to realize what he means.

Yuji.

He’s talking about Yuji.

Your heart skips a beat, a rush of emotions flooding you all at once. Sukuna must have picked up on it, the way your face changes ever so slightly, because his smirk grows darker.

“You think I don’t know?” he continues, his voice like velvet laced with poison.

“You think I haven’t noticed how you look at him? How you cling to him like he’s your salvation?”

You grit your teeth, a flush of anger rising in your chest.

“Leave Yuji out of this. You don’t get to talk about him.”

Sukuna laughs, a low, menacing sound that vibrates through the air.

“Oh, but he’s right here, isn’t he?”

He gestures to himself, his hand sliding down the front of his chest as if to remind you that this is Yuji’s body he’s wearing.

“Every time you look at me, you’re seeing him.”

Your fists clench at your sides. You want to tell him he’s wrong, that you know the difference, that you feel the difference between the two of them. But the truth is, it hurts. Seeing Yuji’s face twisted into Sukuna’s cruel smirk, hearing his voice warped into something vicious - it tears at you in ways you can’t fully explain.

“You hate me,” Sukuna says, his voice softening slightly, though the malice never leaves his eyes.

“But you can’t ignore me. I’m a part of him. And a part of you still cares, doesn’t it?”

You take a step back, trying to put some distance between you and the words he’s throwing at you like knives.

“I don’t care about you,” you snap, your voice shaking.

“I care about Yuji.”

Sukuna’s smile fades slightly, his eyes narrowing.

“Are you sure?” he questions, his tone mocking but tinged with something deeper.

“Or is it just easier to pretend? To lie to yourself and say that you can separate the two of us? That when you look at him, you’re not also looking at me?”

You can’t respond, because deep down, some part of you has always been afraid of that. Afraid that Sukuna is right, that his presence taints every interaction, every moment you’ve had with Yuji. The thought of it makes your skin crawl, and yet, here you are, standing in front of him, unable to tear your eyes away.

Sukuna steps closer now, his voice dropping to a low, almost intimate whisper.

“You can run from this all you want. But you’ll never escape me. I’m always going to be there, in the back of your mind, in the space between your thoughts. Just waiting.”

You feel a chill run down your spine, the weight of his words pressing down on you. But instead of giving in to the fear, you force yourself to look him in the eyes.

“You’re wrong,” you mutter, though your voice is barely above a whisper.

“Yuji’s stronger than you think. He’ll get rid of you.”

For a moment, Sukuna just stares at you, his expression unreadable. And then, to your surprise, he laughs - a deep, genuine sound that seems to shake the very air around you.

“You really believe that, don’t you?” he remarks, amusement flickering in his eyes.

“That’s what makes this so entertaining.”

Without warning, he turns away, as if dismissing you entirely, his attention now on the sky above the ruins.

“Enjoy your little sanctuary while you can,” he shouts over his shoulder, his voice low and ominous.

“It won’t last forever.”

And with that, he disappears, leaving you standing alone in the clearing, your heart pounding in your chest, your mind spinning.

For a moment, you just stand there, letting the silence of the forest settle around you. But even though Sukuna is gone, the weight of his presence lingers, clinging to the air like a dark cloud.

You hate him. You hate the way he twists everything, makes you question yourself, makes you question Yuji. But deep down, you know that no matter how hard you try to separate them, Sukuna’s right about one thing - he’s always going to be there. And that’s a truth you’re going to have to face

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[pumpkinstrawbrew]

"can it be, that you actually CARE about those creatures!? you are just as crazy as they are!"

and yeah, he sure does care. so let me present you, batman n' his 'creatures' aka you become forever responsible for what (who) you’ve tamed.

...

(i remember watching the lock-up ep as a child, and rooting for bruce to save the rogues. i always was a villain-lover type of kid, n' those 3 were one of my fav characters in the whole show, so naturally, i wanted them to be saved. but that aside, it also simply felt idk, ‘right’ for bruce to intervene? at that age, i didn’t fully understand the complexity behind the topic, but it was one of those episodes that stuck with me for years. it’s actually pretty mature for a kid’s show to show smth like that.

i honestly wish, that the ep was fully focused on inmates and/or bruce investigating the abuse vs how it went into bolton kidnapping gordon n’ other folks. but hey, what we got was nice too!  there is something very lovely about the hero protecting their villains from anti-heros/villain-slayers. it’s a thankless job, clearly. but they still put themselves in harm's way, bc they don't approve of the abuse/murder. even if it’s their enemies. *or in some cases* esp if it’s their enemies.

now about the art...

idk, if the first one *the meme itself* was already done for lock-up ep or not. i mean, probably? maybe? either way, if it was done before, now there is another version for it.

n' ah. the second one is kinda just happen'. i was thinking about batman hanging out with every villain, who was in that ep. and how different it would have been, if it was actually about idk, batman, his rogues n' bolton trying to kill/capture them all or smth like that, rather than how it went in canon. anyhow, batman still wins in the end *naturally* and tries bring them all back into arkham, which is.....yeah, it prob will be difficult. mostly bc no one wants to go back lol. harley wants to see her trash man the joker, jon want to gas the city, wesker *actually* wouldn't have minded to go back, but the scareface wanna do crimes. n' bolton doesn't think, that he did anything wrong, so clearly he doesn't wanna be locked up *hehe, get it* with crazies as one of them. so basically, batman's battle for justice slowly turns into pokemon hunt.

in other words, bruce will have a long night ahead of him, with crane yelling into his ear the whole time. f in chat for our man bruce. he really needs it.)

[mavrintarou]

[2:18 PM] Miya Osamu A/B/O

Hello - sorry for temporarily abandoning you all. I've been needing lots of motivation to finish WYE. Thought in the meantime, I could get reinspired again... and this is what I got. Completely smutty alpha Osamu.

Warning: My A/B/O works are never safe for work... completely explicit content that I'm wondering what is wrong with me lol. If you're new, do check out the other HQ and JJK A/B/O works too in my masterlist. .

Osamu sighed for the millionth time, running a hand through his gray mane. His dark brown-black roots were beginning to grow longer each day lately he has not cared to touch up the artificial color.

His mind has been preoccupied with Y/l/n Y/f/n.

Every second, minute, and hour of the day.

He has been making minor mistakes throughout the day, making his employees concerned.

His second in command had to kick him out, telling him to take a couple of days off.

“I can sort of detect your pheromones. Are going into a rut soon?” Hanzo asked, he is an alpha too.

Osamu groaned, losing track of his cycle. “Yeah, I’m due for it.” He stood up, “I should hurry and get out of here before I make the rest of you guys uncomfortable. Please take care of the restaurant for me, Hanzo.”

Hanzo saluted and watched his boss slip out the back door.

.

Osamu groaned as he ejaculated all over his hand for the second time. He barely made it through his apartment doors when he pulled his straining cock out to find relief.

His breath is uneven and he stumbled straight into the bathroom to wash his hands before searching for his medications. It felt different, stronger, and uncontrollable this time around.

His eyes widened when the cartridge was empty.

He couldn’t go out, shouldn’t go out when he couldn’t control his pheromone at the moment.

Osamu let out a deep breath, “I’ll be okay without them, I did fine last time.” The tiny voice in his head whispered, yeah, before you met Y/n.

His body was heating up, he fumbled to strip his black shirt off, tossing it on the ground as he stumbled into his bedroom. Immediately searched for the few clothing items she had left over at his place. The lightbulb in his head lit up when he remembered she tossed her worn dirty clothes in his hamper a few days ago. “Ah,” he sighed in relief and brought her panties to his nose, inhaling deeply.

His fist wrapped around his cock again and began pumping fast.

He needed Y/n.

Only her.

His cum shot out, dripping off his hand and onto the floor.

“’Samu?” He lifted his head, her panties still smothered against his nose. Was he hallucinating by seeing Y/n stand in the doorway?

He’s finally gone mad.

Osamu lifted one hand out towards her, his eyes hooded as he tried to focus them on her. “Y/n….” He sensed her hesitating and stumbled to stand back on his feet. His cock was still hard even after cumming three times, it bounced against his happy trail of hair. It was now thicker and longer than before. He was excited to see his Y/n. “Y/n… please… I need you.” His feet stumble as if he was drunk.

“Osamu,” she murmured, “you – you’re in your rut cycle…” her breathing became rugged as his pheromone began affecting her.

“I need – I need you…” he begged, “you’re the only one… I only want you… you my omega.”

Y/n flinched, choking on her breath as her body began to heat up. She gripped a hand over her heart, trying to control her breathing. “N – no…” Her knees trembled as she tried to press her thighs tightly together. The ache between her legs intensifies by the second. “’Samu…” she looked up and Osamu’s brown eyes were now golden-yellow, an obvious sign an alpha is in a full-blown rut.

“Y/n, my love,” he smiled, his voice full of sweetness, “my omega, right?” He cupped her cheek, his eyes shutting at skin-to-skin contact. He opened his eyes, “my omega, right, Y/n?”

She gripped his wrist, feeling his pheromone seeping through her skin. “Ye – yes… yours…”

“My what?”

Her other hand reached out to wrap around his cock, “your omega. I am your omega, alpha.”

His arm is around her tiny waist, tugging her against his chiseled body. Osamu’s mouth is on hers, tongue slipping past her lips to dance with hers. Her sweet moans ring like a melody and he wants to hear it for the rest of his life.

Osamu hoists Y/n up, carrying her to his bed. He set her back on her feet and began undressing her. His fingers working at a speed she couldn’t even keep track of which piece was coming off.

“’Samu,” she called his name softly, “I’m not going anywhere…” She placed a palm over his beating heart, feeling it thump. She released her pheromone and immediately felt him relax.

“More,” his voice is low and rough, he inhaled deeply.

Her pheromone mixed with his, creating a new euphoric ambiance.

“Ah!” Y/n gripped Osamu’s shoulders, being lifted off her feet again as he carried her to the middle of his bed. He gently placed her down on her back before pulling the remaining of his pants and boxer off.

Each time Osamu breathed, his cock twitched.

Y/n lift herself upward and reached for his cock, wrapping both hands around it and stroking it. “It’s bigger… than usual.” She glanced up at him with doe-like eyes, “will… it fit?”

The first time she took Osamu’s cock, she was nearly expanded beyond her imagination. It took a few times before her pussy finally molded to fit his cock.

The hint of pride was evident on Osamu’s smile, “it will fit, you were meant for me. You were meant to take my cock and you will take my knot too.”

“I’ve never been knotted before,” her statement was innocent but it was fuel to rile up Osamu. He was even more eager than ever to knot her at that moment.

His fingers brushed her hair out of the way before tilting her chin, “I will knot you as many times over until you become pregnant.” Something flickered in her eyes and Osamu pressed her onto her back, anchoring her petite small omega body beneath his large alpha body. “You are mine, Y/n, my omega… mine to fuck, to love, and to breed over and over… right?”

She bit down on her lower lip.

“Submit to me, Y/n,” he growled with a quiet but soft tone. “Say you’re mine to fuck, love, and breed.” His hand reached between her legs, and three of his thick fingers breached and penetrated her. Her tight walls hugged his fingers and he released more of his pheromone, instantly feeling her relax. They began thrusting in and out of her pussy, soaking his fingers to his knuckles before he slipped a fourth finger, making sure to stretch her wide for his rutted cock.

“Yes,” she murmured, her eyes shut as she fully submitted.

Osamu smiled widely, pecking her lips, “open your eyes and say it, tell me what I want to hear. Tell your alpha what he wants to hear…”

Her pussy clenched around his fingers hearing him speak in such a way. Her eyes opened and she gazed directly into his, her hand cupping his face. “I’m yours… yours to fuck… to love…”

“And breed?” He questioned, the tip of his nose trailing along her neck as he inhaled her scent emitted more sweetness than usual now that she had fully submitted to him. “I will breed you tonight, Y/n, take my word for it. You will never leave my home now without my scent on you, everyone will know you are mine.” His teeth bared, hovering over the sweat glands. “I will mark you mine for eternity. I will make you pregnant by the end of the night.” Her pussy fluttered around his fingers, and he pulled them out, coating her essence on his cock. “Answer me, Y/n.”

“Yes, breed me. Mark me… I’m yours. All yours.” She lifted her hip, “fuck me, ‘Samu… I need you…”

Osamu grabbed his aching cock and pressed it to her pulsing entrance before thrusting fully deep inside her. His head is thrown back as he groans her name. “Fuck, you’re so tight… so tight for me.” His fingers gripped her waist as his hips began moving in a steady rhythm.

His eyes lazily gaze down, mesmerized at how his thick cock would appear and disappear in her sweet pussy. Because it was his rut-cock, his size was enormous than usual, allowing him to see a visible outline where his cock was nestling inside of her. This was his first time seeing her belly bulge form from his cock.

Osamu admit he had a thick and long cock, and during his rut cycle, the size increased twice as much. He enjoyed watching his past partners struggle to take him and get off from the size of his cock. His size kink increased until he met Y/n.

She was the smallest of his partners. Rather than finding joy and excitement like he normally would, Osamu was nervous that Y/n wouldn’t be able to take his size. She struggled to take his cock the first time even when he took it slow and tried to be as gentle as possible. Though she was in pain, she still encouraged him to continue. Osamu had never felt the unfamiliar spark in his heart for someone until her.

She was the first person he held afterward, refusing to let her leave. When he woke up, she was gone with no trace at all. He did not know where to even start to search for her. They had encountered each other at one of those weekend events that alphas and omegas attended to search for their next cycle partner.  

Osamu couldn’t take his eyes off her when she entered the room with two other girls. Her hair was in a high bun and she wore a simple dress that came down to her knees. They finally made eye contact from across the room and she winked at him before looking away.

That was Osamu’s cue to make the move.

He attended the next event, in hopes of running into her again but he was let down by the end of the night.

Weeks later he succumbed to a deep despair. His employees tipped toed around him, feeling like he was a ticking time bomb. No one knew what to do or how to help their boss.

Until their blessing entered the shop…

The onigiri slipped from Osamu’s hand and everyone stared at him confused and before anyone could ask him what was wrong, he was out of the kitchen. They all scurried after him and peeked through the curtains to see what startled him.

Standing before their boss was a pretty omega, staring at him with the same shocked expression. Her expression softened and she smiled, “hey, you.”

Osamu truly believed Y/n was his fated partner. She had been looking for him as well.

“I regretted leaving, I’ve never experienced such emotions and left my heart with you that night.” She cupped his face later that day, bringing him in for a deep kiss. “I don’t want to be without you again.”

They got to get to know one another, the proper way. Osamu took her out on dates and after the fourth one, he officially asked her out.

He was dying by the second as she teased him, contemplating on his offer before saying yes.

“Only if you make me cum,” she teased against his lips.

And he did, thrice.

“’Samu,” Y/n mewed, grabbing his wrists. Osamu is a master of her body, inside and out. He knew when she was ready to cum. “’Samu… please.”

“You ready to cum, baby?” he cooed, fastening his pace. He spread her legs wider, pushing her knees into the mattress. He shifted over her, slamming his cock deep and hard, his room echoing with skin on skin. He had control over her body, he has trained her to only cum on his command. Her walls began to tighten around his cock and her moans amplifies. “Okay, you can cum… cum for me…”

As soon as her pussy wall tightens and trembles around his cock, his cock explodes, shooting his thick load of seed into her womb.

He withdraws gently, watching his seed gush out like a waterfall instantly. Osamu quickly flipped her over, shifting her lower body upward. His cock is impaling her once again.

“’Samu – oh! Wait…” Y/n reached a hand behind to push against his abdomen but it was futile. He gripped her hips tightly, pounding into her from behind at a faster speed than seconds ago.

He leaned forward, his large frame easily towering over her. He licked her shoulder blade up to the sweet gland that was now emitting a heady aroma, one that was causing his mouth to water.

Osamu’s hands found her small ones and he threaded his fingers through hers, “need to mark you…”

Though he just came, he was ready for a second round. He spread her thighs wider, angling her so that he could reach her cervix. He groaned when the tip of his cock pushed against the secret opening of her cervix. “Need to knot… need to knot my omega…”

The cervix opening had the ability to stimulate the tip of an alpha’s cock. The tip becomes redder, and thicker to be able to lock the potent seed in the womb to ensure breeding was successful.

To prove, Osamu winced when the tip of his cock enlarges, he felt every ridge of Y/n’s pussy walls.

Y/n felt it herself, she whimpered into his pillow, her thighs widening and hips lifted to find comfort in the bulbous tip enlarging inside of her. She can feel it poking her cervix entrance, simulating and forcing entry.

As soon as the tip broke the barrier and her cervix opened allowing entrance, his knot inflated and filled her womb. Osamu took the opportunity to sink his teeth into her skin, over the sweet gland, breaking the skin so his essence could now mix with hers.

This will tie her forever to him.

It is natural her body will fight against him, he quickly shifted them onto their side, lifting her leg over his to keep pressure off the knot. His cock was still ejaculating, filling her womb beyond its limit. Glancing over, he can see her lower belly bulging almost as if she was already pregnant.

“Shh, it's okay,” he cooed, he licked her mark to cool the broken skin. He released his pheromone to calm her down.

Once mated, an alpha’s pheromone can provide more than before. It is the only medicine that will help their omega.

Her whimpers quieted down but she hugged his arm tightly. “It hurts…” she murmured, “too much…”

“I know, baby. I know. I’m sorry. You will get used to it. Only you can handle my knot. Only you…” He kissed her temple. They lay there in silence, just enjoying the quietness of each other’s breathing. “I love you.” He had yet to speak those words to her, but he felt this was a perfect time to tell her. “I think I have loved you from the first time I met you.”

Y/n kissed his bicep, “I love you too, Miya Osamu.” The romantic moment was ruined when his hand began to fondle her breast. She playfully slapped his hand but it remained, he squeezed them, sending a jolt down to her pussy. “Stop…”

Osamu groaned, feeling her squeezing around his sensitive cock. “I didn’t get to give them attention today,” he reached to cup the other side, flickering her perky nipple.

“Leave my small tits alone,” she demanded, yet moaning and squirming under his touch.

His knot had slightly deflated but she was still extremely uncomfortable from being plugged up with his cum.

“I love your small tits,” he kissed her neck, making sure to lick her mark. “It’s my third favorite thing about you.”

“Third?”

“Yep, first is your face, second is your pussy and third are your small tits.”

Y/n burst out laughing. “Well, I hear they do get bigger… once I become pregnant.”

One of Osamu’s hand slides down her front and rest against her bulging belly. “Yes, I promised I’ll breed you until you’re pregnant.” He tugged her closer, spooning her small frame. “They will get bigger with milk for you to feed me.”

“You?” she laughed.

“Well, one side, the baby will have to share one side with me.”

Weeks later, she found out she was expecting twins.

“Fine, I guess I’ll just have to eat your pussy while you breastfeed them.”

. . .

>>> @queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy

E/n: he sooooo nasty I love it.

[lightlycareless]

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8K3KxtG/

I feel like if this happened to Naoya after he let his hair go natural he’d probably be booking an appointment to the salon that day XD

Heya anon!!!

OMG HAHAHAHAHAHAH I love how we all agree that Naoya dyeing his hair black once his roots show (or just not dyeing it at all) is like a bad idea lmao. Just like the top comment said, it was the only thing keeping the family together 😂😂😂😂

Anyways, this was such a treat to write. I'm always down for domestic yn/naoya shenanigans + our adorable naomi!!!!

warnings: none. fluff. naoya regrets his life. lol.

Happy reading!!!

Naoya deciding to dye his hair completely black wasn’t one that he chose personally, it was simply… a consequence of his surroundings.

He’d been out on missions for too long, that his dye naturally began to fade out, showing his dark roots and prompting him with the idea of…

“All black?” you ask; both were on videocall when he suggested the idea—Naoya stationed in some remote village he was deployed in, still days away from returning. “I haven’t seen you wear that look since… forever I think.”

“Naomi definitely hasn’t seen me like that.” He comments, and at the revelation, you gasp.

“Oh my god, that is true!” you smile. “Do you think she’ll notice? I don’t think so, she’s still pretty young… Though I know she’ll be happy to see her handsome papa again! Black hair, or not.”

Naoya smiles.

“I can’t wait to come back home either; it’s been horrible without my two princesses.”

“Well, hurry back! We’re tired of waiting for you…”

Naoya takes it seriously when you tell him to hurry, quick to finish whatever mission he was in before catching the earliest flight back home, but not without making one last stop; he usually dyed his hair by his own at that point, was considering so too…

But he wanted to make this a special surprise. It had been quite some time since he last mentioned it, so he’s sure you’ve probably forgotten about it by now, thus setting up the perfect opportunity to carry out his plans.

To say that he was excited about this whole ordeal was an understatement. Naoya was really looking forward to this change, and all because of one simple reason: Naomi’s reaction.

Ever since his little bundle of joy was born, life had become far more enjoyable, even with the littlest, most mundane of things. All had become a thrilling adventure he couldn’t wait to share with his daughter.  

Naoya never thought he’d ever come to enjoy the wonders of being a father, always thought it to be tedious, boring. And most importantly, fated to be with someone he wouldn’t care for.

But then you happened, and with time, little Naomi, completely changing his perspective of life.

Whatever thing he did, the sight of his adorable baby girl would cross his mind, wondering what kind of reaction she’ll have for the new toy he’ll bring her after the mission, her cute babbles whenever telling her of his day, as if she knew what he was saying…

Or in this scenario, if Naomi would be able to recognize him after completely dyeing his hair black.

A part of him hopes—no, knows so, because he knows his baby girl to be very attentive, and there’s something sweet about a daughter being able to distinguish her father through all circumstances.

Luckily, he won’t have to wait much to get his answer, for as soon as his hair was done, he went straight back to the estate, not even bothering to let you know beforehand (just to add to the surprise), eventually making a beeline to you, quickly taking you in his arms before you could even muster a hello and kissing you—it’s only when he pulls away that you’re able to acknowledge him, and his new hairstyle.

“Naoya! You dyed your hair black!” you bubbled, threading your fingers into his locks to relish both its softness and nostalgic color. “And your home too!”

“I did.” He smiles, leaning in to steal another kiss. “I’m home.”

“Ah, I missed you so much.” You sigh, resting your head against his chest. “Please tell me you’re not leaving until much, much later.”

“2 weeks.” He says sorrowfully—it’s more than last time, but still…

“…Well, let’s not talk about that anymore—let’s focus instead on our time together, with our adorable baby who missed you so much!”

“Where is she?” Naoya asks with unparalleled enthusiasm. “Is she awake?”

“With my staff, and yes, she just woke up actually!” You say, grabbing his hand and guiding him back to your shared bedroom. “Let’s go, now—I want to see her reaction to your new hair color!”

Just as you foretold, little Naomi was happily enjoying the company of your loyal staff, Mariya, Haruko and Hitomi, who treated your adorable baby as she were their own niece, taking her wherever they could when you’d unfortunately end up caught up with duties, which Naomi didn’t mind, if anything, she was all to happy to be spoiled rotten (even more) by her aunts!

And how could she not? With all their gifts and antics, Naomi was nothing if not overjoyed to be the center of their attention!

Yet, nothing they did could ever compare t0 the happiness of seeing her father return home, the papa that you always made sure to remind her loved her very much, even through the distance that is often imposed by his job.

Once the family is reunited, your staff bids their regards to Naoya before leaving, allowing much needed privacy for the sweet moment that is to occur next. they leave to give them much needed privacy,

“Naomi!” Naoya says as soon as he laid eyes on his little bundle of joy, swooning when noticing the cute romper you’d dressed her up in, the same one he got her a few weeks ago: the yellow one with a little duck stitched in the front pocket. “My little mochi, I’m home!”

He reaches for her, extending his arms to pick her up and give her all the kisses and hugs he’s been holding onto since he left, completely forgetting about the reaction he so desperately wanted to see—

But the moment he does so, Naoya feels his baby tense up, a soft whine escaping her lips as her chubby little hands attempted to push him away, a reaction so different to her usually bubbly, welcoming personality, that his heart couldn’t help but shatter a bit in return.

“What’s wrong, dumpling?” He asks. “Did you miss me that much?”

“Nnngah!” Naomi cries as she attempts to push him away once more, but Naoya persists, that is, until a sharp wail makes him realize it was something graver.

“Naomi, why are you crying??” Naoya frets, attempting to comfort her by gently rocking her—to no avail. “Is it your diaper?? Or are you hungry??”

It takes you a few moments to understand what’s happening, but when you do, you’re not even able to laugh about it, too preoccupied instead in comforting your poor crying daughter, who was upset from innocently confusing her papa for Naobito’s son #27.

She shouldn’t be blamed—couldn’t. Naomi was still in the age where she has difficulties setting apart those that similarly look like her father, after all, like the rest of Naoya’s brothers.

Naomi was only able to calm down after you took her back into her arms, the only person she seemed to recognize at the moment, gently bouncing her until her cries eventually diminished.

But the damage was done, and as soon as your little mochi was placed back onto her crib, too tired out from crying, Naoya rushes straight to the exit, mind set on one thing:

“I’m dying my hair back blonde.”

“Naoya—It’s just a matter of her getting used to you!” you gasp, attempting to stop him. “You don’t need to do that!”

“I don’t want her to cry because of me ever again.” He insists. “I’ve already arranged the appointment; I’m heading out now. And while I’m at it, I’ll also buy Naomi more toys, hopefully she’ll be able to forgive me.”

“That won’t—” you wish to push the idea out of Naoya’s mind, tell him that perhaps he’s exaggerating, but you could see the sadness in his eyes, that notion that he genuinely believed needed this to feel better about himself.

So, you let him, giving him a kiss while asking him to not to do anything outrageous; Naoya’s spending could be quite… excessive when upset, you’d know that better than anyone. Although something tells you it might be worse now that Naomi is involved…

Nonetheless, by the time Naoya returns with his hair effectively back to blonde, Naomi is now able to identify him as her beloved papa, cheerfully reaching out for him to receive her well-deserved dosage kisses and hugs, as well as all the toys he brought along to ease his mistakes—it’s almost like that unspeakable incident never occurred! Much to Naoya’s delight.

And while upsetting at the moment, this is an anecdote you’d eventually recount with humor in the future, about the time Naomi didn’t recognize her father because of his hair dye, and how Naoya almost went to the end of the world to redeem himself.

Though both would deny it, of course. Thankfully, you have a good memory.

I'm sorry I had to call Naoya Naobito's son #27 but let's be real, they all look alike (In my hc that is) HOW COULD NAOMI NOT CONFUSE HIM? HAHAHAHAH Poor man, well, thankfully Naomi forgave him once he fixed his mistake :) you won't see Naoya with black hair anymore, though you'd come to regret not being able to "relieve the good ol days" 😳😳😳😳

Anyways, thank you sososos much for sending in this I LOVE DOMESTIC AU WITH NAOYA our redeemed little dork. Ah, I really needed this after last chapter's ordeal 😏 keep 'em coming 🤭

Now, take care, and hope to see you soon!!

[yukichosodrink]

Could you write smth with virgin Toji and a somewhat experienced reader? I have my own headcanons on how Megumi was born but that's irrelevant lol

A/N: HEYYY ANON this is the first ever req i got 😎 and yes i got u dw. altho this was kinda challenging since i've never written ab virgin toji but yeah

C/W: Virgin Toji, experienced reader, lowkey pwp, reader is kinda cocky ab it, nipple play, kinda a powerplay?

"Hng- Ngh, doll. Slow down- fuck."

Toji's heavy breath's rang through your ears, as you pumped his cocked up and down, your hands working at a speed that felt deadly to Toji.

"Aw, virgins are so cute." You say cockily shooting him a grin as you continued rubbing his fully hard shaft. The pre cum smeared over his cock and you bent down to lick it slowly, and almost painfully as it felt to Toji. "Feels good, doesn't it?"

"Shut the fuck up." Toji said as you increased your pace, you got down on your knees and grabbed one of his balls, squeezing it.

Toji groaned in response, his hands finding way in your hair pulling it by the roots,"Fucking-" Before he could say, you licked up a big stripe on his cock, before slowly sucking his balls.

You put his cock inside your mouth, fucking your face on it maintaing eye contact with Toji, although he seemed to be in a daze. He wasn't maintaining eye contact rather he was looking away and kept looking back while occasionally swearing and tugging at your hair.

"Fuck- yes I'm going to-" Toji grunted, his grip getting tighter on your hair but your release with a 'pop' sound, shooting him a grin. "Why you-"

"Let's get down to the real stuff, shall we?" You said getting up your hands working on Toji's well defined pecs, his black tshirt hugging his figure tightly signalling him to take it off and he does.

You take off your shorts, revealing a wet patch on your panty to Toji and he smiles mockingly as he hooks down your panties to show your glistening cunt. His fingers spread your folds,"And you? Dripping like a virgin. Fucking pathetic." Toji says, slapping your cunt making you whine. He pulls you on top of him as you straddle his thigh. Your fingers make their way to his nipples, playing with them and pulling one of it while sucking on the other.

Toji groaned and gripped your hips tightly and lifted you up, to make you sit on his huge leaking cock, you let out a lewd moan.

"Fuck- Toji it's big-" You whine, gripping his shoulders tightly as you sink down unto his cock. Toji's hands were on your waist gripping it roughly,"Yeah? Too big? Bigger than all those cocks you took?" Toji gave you a mocking smile, letting out a small grunt.

"Wonder how your pussy is still so fucking tight." He said as he made you bounce on his cock, slapping your butt. Your tits bounced from the effect, as a creamy ring began to form on Toji's cock.

"I'm gonna- ngh- cum." Toji announced, holding you by the hips guiding your movements.

"A-ah toji! M-mm you sure you a virgin? Your cock's stretching me out so gooood!" You moaned out, sweatbeads forming on both you and Toji's forehead.

"And you sure you are experienced, doll? Because you're getting fucked like a virgin here." Toji said, increasing his pace and fucking you with more intensity,"A-ahh- Toji- 'm cumming!" You announced gripping Toji's biceps now, as your cunt squeezed his cock, he painted your walls white as you clamped down on him, releasing with him.

You collapsed on top of Toji's, breathing heavily.

"How was that, huh?" Toji said proudly, seeing your condition.

"Good. And I felt better about taking your virginity." You said, getting your cocky attitude back as you pushed yourself off of him.

[charkie-ee]

team bolas rojas gas masks designs??

in THIS day and age?????

it may be more likely than you think..

this was my first time drawing a series of different gas masks, no idea if they’re accurate at all, but it was really fun!!

**notes & closeups under the cut :-D**

it’s a lot of notes so be prepared for an info dump.

NOTES:

Philza: honestly, what more is there to say than “CROW MAN!!”? aside from his goggles being glow-in-the-dark, theres not much more to the mask design. however, i decided, “hey! this is purgatory! i can fuck up these characters!” so, he has a ripped ear(?)wing and messily cut back hair. (i didn’t pay too much attention to the hair in this design, i was mainly trying to get the gas masks down, but maybe i’ll go further into later.)

Cellbit: this is definitely one of my favorites, he looks pretty scary, i would NOT stop my car if i saw him on the side of the road. its based off of a cat mask(obviously) and a painted white streak goes through his mask, inspired by his hair. i didn’t include it, but circles in the goggles are supposed to retract with different emotions (kind of how cat’s eyes do, saucer and dagger pupils.) he’s also covered in blood because he’s going through it lore wise.

Slimecicle: ngl, it was my first time drawing code charlie(other than all the wips i have that i’ll never finish),but i think he’s pretty spooky. his mask is the worst quality, like it USED to work well until he wore it out. thus, there are broken air tubes that let the gas in. (he should probably get those replaced.) the holes for his horns are kind of like an airlock, so the gas can’t enter through them (phil helped him make it.) however, it makes it difficult to take off.

Baghera: baghera’s mask is kind of built like charlie’s, except in much better quality. aside from the loose air tubes, the mask almost goes all the way around her head, not letting even the slightest bit of gas in. theres also a plastic duck beak on top of the regular breathy-thing(i have no idea what i’m doing, so, no, i don’t know the technical term for that) to give it the “bird touch.”

Jaiden: jaiden’s mask was FUN. like i kinda went overboard. i did these all on different days, and this was the night after the big egg battle day. i saw she had fnaf bonnie ears along with her bird gas mask, and said “ok cool. i’ll add that.” she has the same feather/beak thing i gave to baghera. also, hair-wise, she gets a hair bun and her brown roots showing through(we love messy haired cubitos ^^)

Foolish: foolish was interesting, not sure i like the final product, but i’m tired, so it’ll do. his mask is based off of a lemon shark. he gas glowing green eyes and golden splotches on the leather. the air tube foolish has is REALLY long. like unnaturally long. so he wraps it around his neck to get it out of the way. the other members are extremely concerned it’ll choke him one day, but foolish thinks it’s cool and will scare other teams away. kind of like a “yea, i’m crazy, i could choke and die at any minute, and i don’t care.” phil, being the protective father figure of the group, does not like this at all.

Carre: and finally, we have carre. ah, sweet, sweet carre.(he is my favorite.) his mask is based off of a snow leopard because i hc he’s half feline. carre has the lightest, and most simple mask, since it’s entirely plastic, and more so based off of skiing or snowboarding goggles.

ANYWAY, i hope these notes make sense, excuse my rambling about silly designs, i tend to doodle messily, and not really have a plan when i draw, lol.

thanks for reading, BYE!

[oldiesstationlover11607]

i saw ur smut requests are open and i LOVE ur writing so much so i hope u dont mind if i request something!!

i would love to see experienced fem!reader x virgin torchbearer josh if thats possible 🫢 if u dont feel like writing it, dont be afraid to just delete the ask <3

lots of love!!!

- lisey

Virgin - Torchbearer!Josh Dun x Fem!Reader - Smut

Warnings: unprotected sex (do not do that lol eww), handjob, riding, virgin!josh + the trauma that comes with reading smut :)

Word Count: 2679

A/N: Sorry this took so long! Smut requests take a while for me but hopefully this makes up for it :) At least I'm getting to my requests lol

message for people who know me irl - FUCK OFF RN OR I WILL FIND YOU :)

Josh was a complicated person. With the complexities of being the leader of the Banditos it seemed he never got time to relax and truly enjoy the simplicities of life–things that the citizens of Dema had the pleasure of enjoying. You’d been with him for a few months before he brought it up in conversation, acting like you hadn’t known from the moment you saw him. 

“I’m a virgin,” he spoke clearly, breaking the silence of our conversation. Josh was staring up at the roof of the tent as you lay there in each other’s arms. You rolled over to look at him, my expression unsurprised. 

“I know.”

Almost immediately he sat up, leaving him towering over you. You couldn’t tell if he was upset at your reaction or not. Being a virgin wasn’t anything to be ashamed of–especially for someone as attractive as him. 

“Wait. How do you know?” He asked, his brows ruffled in a frustrated look. 

“The first time I met you… you seemed too innocent to not be a virgin. That, how focused you are with your work, and the way you reacted the first time I placed my hand here,” you chuckled, snaking your hand to his thigh. Josh’s breath hitched and he placed his hand over yours. “Why do you bring it up?” You could practically feel the smirk growing on your face, knowing you finally had the upper hand in the relationship. 

“I–” he paused. For once the Torchbearer was speechless. For once he didn’t have an immediate response. You tilted your head slightly, studying him. The hesitance, the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes–it was such a contrast to the strong figure everyone else saw. But here, in this intimate space, he was vulnerable, and you found that mix of strength and innocence intoxicating.

“You don't have to be so tense, Josh.” You tried to hold back the teasing tone but it slipped out. Your voice was soft but teasing, the sound low and smooth, almost like a purr. “I promise I won’t bite… unless you ask.”

His cheeks flushed, a deep crimson that spread up his neck, and his eyes darted down as if he couldn’t quite face your amused expression. You could tell he was trying to calm the rapid rise and fall of his chest, his breath quickening despite his efforts. It was endearing—the way he, the Torchbearer, was so utterly unmoored by your presence.

“I-I’m not used to this,” he stammered, his voice shaky but sincere. His eyes met yours again, wide and earnest, the firelight reflecting off his pupils. “I've never... not like this. Not with someone like you.”

Your smile widened at his confession. “Someone like me?” you echoed, stepping closer. Your hand rose slowly, giving him time to stop you if he wanted to, but he stayed rooted to the spot, frozen with anticipation. Your fingers brushed lightly against his arm, tracing the hard muscle beneath his skin, and you felt him tense even more under your touch.

“Someone... experienced,” he admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, as though saying it aloud made him more vulnerable than ever.

Ah, so that was it. You'd suspected, but hearing it from him made your heart race with a mix of excitement and tenderness. He was a virgin. That explained the nervousness, the way he looked at you like he didn’t know where to start but wanted to be worthy of this moment with you.

“Do you trust me?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper now, leaning in just enough that your breath fanned against his neck.

He nodded quickly, almost too quickly, and you chuckled softly. His eagerness was palpable. Despite his nerves, you could see the fire in his eyes, the desire burning just beneath the surface. He just needed a little push.

“Good,” you murmured, your lips curving into a teasing smile. “Because I’m going to take care of you. You don’t need to worry about a thing.”

You placed your hands on his chest, feeling the rapid pounding of his heart beneath your palms. His body was taut, filled with tension and anticipation, but his eyes never left yours, dark with curiosity and an unspoken need.

“You’re nervous,” you observed, your voice gentle, but laced with a hint of mischief. “I can feel it.”

He exhaled shakily, his breath hot against your cheek. “I-I just... I don't want to mess this up.”

You smiled at his sincerity, feeling a rush of affection for him. “You won’t mess anything up,” you reassured him, your hands sliding down his chest slowly, tracing the lines of his body. “Let me guide you. Just follow my lead.”

His hands hovered uncertainly by his sides, as if he wanted to touch you but wasn’t sure if he was allowed. You caught his hesitation and, with a soft smile, took one of his hands, guiding it to your waist. His fingers twitched slightly against your skin, unsure but eager.

“You can touch me, Josh,” you encouraged, your voice sultry and low. “I want you to.”

His breath hitched in his throat as he slowly tightened his grip on your waist, his hands trembling with anticipation. He was cautious, almost reverent, as if afraid of going too far too quickly. But you could see the hunger in his eyes, the desire that had been slowly building, waiting for the right moment to explode.

You leaned in, your lips brushing against his in a soft, teasing kiss. His breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, he froze, unsure of how to respond. But you didn't rush him. You kissed him again, a little deeper this time, guiding him into the rhythm. His lips were hesitant at first, but they grew bolder with each passing second, his body finally starting to respond to yours.

“Relax,” you whispered against his lips, one of your hands sliding up to tangle in his hair. “You're doing great.”

He groaned softly at your words, his grip on your waist tightening as his confidence slowly grew. His kisses became more urgent, more eager, as if he was trying to make up for all the time he'd spent waiting for something like this. The raw intensity of it made your pulse race, and you couldn’t help but smile against his lips.

The way he was so utterly lost in you, the way his body responded to your slightest touch—it made you feel powerful, in control. You could sense his growing need, the way he was trying to hold himself back, afraid of doing something wrong. But you wanted him to let go, to trust you.

You broke the kiss, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. His pupils were blown wide with desire, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

“You don’t have to hold back with me,” you said softly, your fingers trailing down his chest. “I can take it.”

His eyes widened at your words, his breath catching in his throat. You could feel the shift in him, the way the last of his restraint began to crumble. His hands moved to your hips, pulling you closer to him, and you could feel the heat radiating from his body. The sudden surge of confidence in his touch sent a thrill through you, and you smiled, loving how he was finally starting to let go.

You kissed him again, but this time, it was slower, more deliberate. You took your time, savoring the way his lips moved against yours, the way his hands roamed your body with newfound confidence. He was still nervous, still unsure, but he was learning, following your lead.

“You're doing so well,” you whispered between kisses, your lips brushing against his in a way that made him shiver as you unzipped and stripped him of his jeans. Breaking the kiss he removed his shirt as you stripped alongside him. 

His grip on you tightened, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he lost himself in the moment. You could feel the heat building between you, the tension mounting with every touch, every kiss. His inexperience only made it more intense—the way he responded to your every move, the way he looked at you like he couldn't believe this was real. 

Josh gasped sharply as your finger brushed against his bare skin, sending shivers down his spine. 

“Ahh… fuck,” he moans quietly, his hips twitching involuntarily as you feel him grown hard. Feeling exposed and sensitive, Josh bit his lip, unintentionally edging you on. 

“You good?” You chuckled, looking up at him. His eyes were closed but he gave a desperate nod. 

“I’m good. I trust you,” he whispered, “Just please don’t stop.” Wrapping a hand around his throbbing erection, you give him a firm squeeze. “Holy shit.” Josh’s head fell back, exposing the column of his throat. Tattooed arms trembled at his sides, muscles tensing and relaxing in time with his ragged breaths. You couldn’t help but smile at his reaction, feeling the power of having him in such a vulnerable state. His body was a mix of taut nerves and raw desire, and you could feel the tension radiating off him in waves. The way he responded to even the slightest touch was intoxicating, making your own desire burn hotter.

“Relax, Josh,” you whispered again, your voice soothing but commanding. “Just focus on what you're feeling.”

His breath hitched as your hand moved slowly, deliberately, along his length. His hips jerked up instinctively, and you pressed your palm against his stomach to keep him grounded. He was trembling now, his body overwhelmed with sensations he'd never experienced before.

“I-I’m trying,” he stuttered, his voice thick with arousal. His hands gripped your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your skin as if he was trying to anchor himself.

You leaned down, kissing the side of his neck, and felt him shudder beneath you. 

“You're doing great,” you reassured him between soft kisses, your lips ghosting over his skin. “Just let yourself feel it. Don’t hold back.”

Josh groaned softly, the sound deep and desperate, and you could feel him slowly losing control, his restraint slipping away little by little. It was thrilling, watching the shift in him as he gave in to the sensations coursing through his body. You could see it in his eyes, the way they were half-lidded with desire, his pupils blown wide, his breath coming in quick, shallow bursts.

His hands moved up your back, shaky but more confident now, pulling you closer to him as if he couldn’t stand the distance between you. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the intensity of the moment building with every touch, every sound he made.

“Please,” he whispered, his voice rough and barely audible. “I need…”

“You need what?” you teased gently, your lips brushing against his as you spoke.

He hesitated for a moment, his gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips, and you could see the conflict in him. He was still unsure, still fighting that last bit of nervousness, but you knew he was close to letting go completely.

“Tell me what you need, Josh,” you urged softly, your hand trailing down his chest again, feeling his muscles tense under your touch. “I want to hear you say it.”

“I… I need you,” he finally admitted, his voice trembling with a mix of vulnerability and desire. “Please… I need you.”

The raw honesty in his words sent a shiver down your spine. He had finally given in, and you felt a surge of excitement at the realization that you had him completely at your mercy. You pressed a soft kiss to his lips, your hand still wrapped around him, and whispered against his mouth, “I’m right here, Josh. I’ve got you.” You removed your hand and moved so you were straddling him, hovering just above where he needed you the most. “I’m gonna ride you, it’ll be a bit easier I think,” you said, pressing your lips to his. He looked up at you with a dazed, almost delirious expression, still riding the high of his handjob. 

“Y-yeah... okay…” he nodded slowly, voice hoarse with need. He reached up to tangle his fingers in your hair, holding you close. “I want to feel you,” he whispered urgently. As you lowered yourself onto him feeling the stretch more than you thought you would, you enveloped his rigid length. “Fuck,” you groaned, setting down as he hit the spot you need him most. His hands held your hips tightly, pulling you closer as he rolled his hips up to meet your downward thrusts. 

“More,” he pleaded shamelessly, lost to the primal rhythm. Josh's plea sent a surge of heat through you, a thrill sparking in the pit of your stomach at the way he was letting go, abandoning the restraint he had clung to for so long. His hands gripped your hips with a newfound intensity, guiding you as you rode him, moving together in a steady, building rhythm.

“Like this?” you whispered breathlessly, your lips barely grazing his as you spoke, your pussy walls clenching down on him. His eyes were squeezed shut, head thrown back as he nodded eagerly, too overwhelmed by the sensations to form a coherent response. The soft groans and gasps escaping him told you everything you needed to know.

His need was palpable, raw and unfiltered, and you fed off it, matching his rhythm with your own, pushing him closer to the edge with every thrust. The intimacy of the moment—the way your bodies moved in perfect sync, the quiet sounds of pleasure filling the space between you—felt almost surreal, like the rest of the world had faded away and it was just the two of you, lost in each other.

“Josh,” you murmured his name, wanting to anchor him, wanting him to know that you were with him in every sense of the word. His eyes fluttered open at the sound of his name, hazy with desire as he looked up at you, his lips parted, panting.

“I can't... I don't know how much longer I can—” he stammered, his voice hoarse, thick with urgency.

You smiled softly, leaning down to kiss him, a slow, deliberate kiss that contrasted with the frantic pace of your movements. “It's okay,” you whispered against his lips. “Just let go. I want to feel it.”

That was all he needed. With a low, guttural groan, his body tensed beneath you, his grip on your hips tightening almost painfully as he gave in to the rush of sensation, losing himself completely in the moment. You could feel the tremors running through him, the way he shuddered as his release hit, his breath coming in ragged, broken gasps.

You slowed your movements, riding out the waves of his climax with him, savoring the closeness, the heat of his body pressed against yours. His eyes were half-lidded, lips parted as he struggled to catch his breath, a look of pure exhaustion and bliss etched across his face.

When he finally opened his eyes fully, they were filled with something different now—gratitude, maybe, or even awe. He reached up, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle, reverent.

‘That was…” He trailed off, still breathless, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I don’t even know what to say.”

You chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to his forehead before pulling away slightly to look at him. “You don't have to say anything,” you said quietly, tracing your fingers along his jawline. “Just know that I'm here, whenever you need me.”

For a long moment, the two of you stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, the weight of the world outside the tent momentarily forgotten. Josh was still the leader of the Banditos, still burdened with responsibilities that would never fully go away. But here, in this space, in this moment, he was just Josh—vulnerable, open, and utterly yours.

//

REQUESTS OPEN

[bengiyo]

Century of Love Ep 5 Stray Thoughts

Last week, Vee decided that he wanted to steal the stone to heal his grandmother, and so pushed San to let him live in the house. Vee wanted to get into the locked room, and was eventually let in by San. Vee also learned that San has suffered every night for a century. Vee also tried to seduce that man, leading to another wet dream. Nephew came back to start shit again. Goons kidnapped grandpa, and then one of them snuck into the house, stole the stone, and stabbed Vee!

Ah, Grandpa wasn't kidnapped. They just wanted them all away from the house.

Watch enough Thai dramas and you start to recognize the hospital hallways.

I hope that was a decoy stone intended to be stolen to learn who their enemy was.

Nephew! I knew it was you!!

In typical drama fashion, we have to reveal exactly how we outsmarted the enemy.

Not only does Daou look great in this hoodie, it makes it easy for any stunt doubles.

Oooh a car chase.

WELP, DROWNING IN A CAR IS ONE OF MY PRIMAL FEARS.

Don't worry, Vee, they don't know you also tried to steal the stone.

I do like that Vee is having fun teasing San. I haven't forgotten his homelessness story from last week.

Oh that was a good cut from the bench back to the room.

POND PONLAWIT

It's interesting that Vee knows Third already. We're gonna flip multiple dynamics in this lifetime. Already thinking about the observation from I think @mysterygrl20 that this time around San pushed Vee into a loveless marriage.

San looks familiar to Third! The plot thickens.

Juu is my favorite. She will never give San a break.

Now, San, no one said anything mean about you; that was all you. Vee is also correct that he doesn't have to prioritize the lore about previous lifetimes, especially when San insists that he isn't Vad.

Honestly, I'm totally down to see what kind of romantic chemistry Pond and Offroad can build with these characters. They can play out this jealousy plot for a bit if I can get that.

LOL, Juu. She does not want to follow them.

I feel like the dino art reaction is a play on Daou's fandom thing.

I'm with Juu. He barks orders like an old man, and then he wants a friend.

A balloon arch! How fancy.

An upside down book. It's a common trope, but now I want to watch Goblin again.

Oh good. I was hoping Vee would catch them in the picture.

That's right, Vee, tell his old ass that he has no right to control you. You're allowed to entertain suitors!

OOF. Vee is taking this in stride, but it definitely hurts to be shunned.

Not this show getting me to root for Third! I am such a sucker for second chance romance for the gays.

WHY LIGHT THE FIREWORKS IF HE AIN'T ACTUALLY KISS THAT MAN?? SPARKS ARE NOT ENOUGH!!

I'm happy for Vee that he got a response out of San, but curious how he navigates more interactions with Third next week.

This show is so smart, and is having a lot of fun interrogating its own premise. I like the implication of Trai being reincarnated as Third, and having a genuine relationship with Vee that he wants to turn into romance, whereas San is being possessive of Vee in a way that's about someone else entirely. San has to also build a real relationship with Vee, and it's good that the show knows that. We noted that Vad and Vee have similar features, but I'm curious what the investigation into those relatives will turn up and if there is a female Vad doppelganger with the same birthday as Vee.

[inthepassengerside]

softdom!cal <3

i’m sorry i don’t proofread anything lol

“‘s such a long day today, my girl,” Calum spoke as he threaded his hands through your hair. He had been at this ever since dinner was finished, lazily cuddling on the couch, movie after movie playing on cable, and giggling at random things on your phone.

You huffed as you lay against him, “tell me about it.”

“Sorry I didn’t ask yet. How was work? Any important projects, or did they finally cut you some slack on a Friday?” He chuckled at his own joke.

You peered up at him, “it was easy today, but I think that was what made it so long. Having something to do just keeps me busy.”

“Yeah I get it baby.”

You knew he was needy, but now he wasn’t even trying to hide it. Every time a sigh left his lips it turned more into a frustrated groan. Instead of paying attention to him, you focused on the movie in front of you.

His fingertips were now tracing little details on your side as your sweatshirt had ridden up. He edged his digits closer and closer to the waistband of your shorts before kissing on your neck.

Now, you had no choice but to focus on Calum. He was purposely smacking his lips so his kisses were louder. He nibbled at your jawline, suckling and then licking the tender spots before moving up to your ear.

“Knees, baby.”

You’re embarrassed with how quickly you complied to his wishes as he shrugged himself off your body to let you get in position.

His back was against the sofa, you quickly reached for the remote and shut off the TV. Calum’s still ring-clad fingers were ruffling through his own hair as his cheeks were tinted a soft pink.

As much as you wanted to prolong this, your boyfriend’s pleasure was your own, and you couldn’t wait to get your hands on him.

You palmed him through his shorts for a little while. Hearing his tiny gasps gave you the rush to peel down his shorts and boxers and let his hard cock spring free.

It was hard and leaking, and you were practically drooling already. You let out a low, yet quiet whine at the sight of him. When you looked up at Calum, his eyes were already closed and his head lay back. You stroked his length slowly before pressing tiny kisses across his tip.

“Ah, shit,” his eyes were still closed, yet his mouth was open and his hands immediately made their way to your hair.

No matter how long he was with you and no matter how many times you’d do this for him, he never got over the way you took care of him. God, it felt so good. You always knew how to pleasure him.

You sucked at his tip, feeling a spurt of pre-cum hit your tongue. The way he throbbed in your mouth made it seem like he hadn’t cum in weeks and he was eager for release.

His hands tugged at your hair, proceeding back to the roots to push you onto him more. You gagged as your throat contracted around the slight intrusion. “Shit…” Your nails scratch at his thighs before relaxing around him.

You pull off of him after a minute with a gasp, your hands finding his base, stroking him again. You duck your head down and kiss is balls, which has him shuddering against you.

Lapping up at the heavy sack you hear his moans get more vocal and vocal. While he was quite loud when you blew him, there was something about having his balls played with that made him cry out.

You suck one into your mouth as your core starts to ache as well. Needly, you grind onto nothing as you beg for a slither of touch.

Calum hears you moan against him and it makes him moan right back at you. His lips twitch in amusement when you switch places, now fondling his balls and sucking his cock.

You weren’t playing now, roughly sucking, urging him closer and closer to release. You wanted, no, you needed him to cum so badly. Every time he let out a whimper calling your name your thighs clenched— you could feel the wetness hushing between your thighs as you shuffled your knees on the carpet.

“A-ah! Shit, what are you doing?” He whined, launching his body forward, not expecting the switch up in rhythm.

In fact, you just went harder, bobbing your head up and down while keeping eye contact with your man above you. “I’m gonna cum, fuck.”

His lips twitched up in satisfaction as you proceeded your actions with the same pace. It wasn’t long before he was spilling his seed into your mouth with a cry. “Fuuuuck,” He drew out.

After swallowing the salty substance you kept sucking slowly until he pushed you off of him from the overstimulation, “mm no more.”

You pulled his sweats back up to him, not even bothering with the tight boxers. As soon as you got to his side again, he pulled you into him, using his hand to push your jaw towards him so he could kiss you.

And he kissed you. “Thank you so much my princess, was so good, as always.”

You just whined. Had you been so focused on his pleasure, he didn’t even notice the wet spot between the cotton material covering you.

“Is my baby wet?”

“Yes daddy.”

“Kay, I’ll take care of you then.”

[yuseirra]

(Vague..hints about what 165 would be, I heard about it, I'm...scared to see that chapter. It sounds really horrifying, I can't phrase it otherwise.)

I think I'm going to jot down my feelings. I honestly feel so, so sorry for people who like this manga..; on the bright side it's been a work that's...imbued things in me to write and draw this much about myself but I wish that'd only have happened on a positive note.

I think the author is really being too much..;; They're being so cruel. For what? Can this story get across a proper message? That's what's most important to me and I can take it if I'm convinced it is but... This current route is so far from what most audience would believe as fulfilling or.. Feel happy about seeing. Unless this is fake and the last chapter has some sort of happy closure to it all.

I started reading onk after the anime came out last year and kept up with it, ordering the volumes and reading them. After Chapter 154 and listening to the opening for Season 2, I just thought, “Ah, this is what it is… This is it.” (If you read my oldest? theory posts about this work, this July, you’d know what I mean. I think I’ve figured it all out, and so far, nothing I’ve said back then has been disproven; on the contrary, it STILL makes the most sense.)

I have myself an idea of what this could be, but unless Ruby uses Amaterasu’s power to save everyone and bring them into a happy timeline in the final chapter, this is just...;;

Haha, seriously, this is... phew...

It’s true that Ai and the person she really loved had mutual feelings, but that person went completely insane and caused some incredibly serious issues, forcing Aqua to go after him with everything he had.

From how things are unfolding, I think these points have been confirmed.

We also learned that person was originally good enough to be called noble<I feed off this info like cow eats grass... That's the thing that keeps me going lol Kamiki is nuts...oh please...I really care for him

We know Aqua had a mission assigned from the gods.

For Ruby’s future, he had to capture their father, and this task required him to put everything he built in the story so far on the line.

I kind of understood this? Even if accepting it is a different matter.

No matter how important revenge is in Aqua’s narrative... it’s like, what should I even say? Kamiki ended up devouring Aqua’s story to such an extent that the latter part of the story feels overshadowed by him, and yet Kamiki hasn’t been explored in enough depth for that.

For those following Aqua, this progression feels incredibly harsh. Even if you were rooting for Aqua, the villain he’s up against should be properly fleshed out. Kamiki is full of gaps everywhere. Maybe some parts are intentionally hidden, but what they’ve done feels too much like a Deus ex Machina.

The things he’s been said to have done aren’t even within the realm of what an ordinary human could achieve, it's beyond logic. So unless he’s literally a god, it doesn’t make sense. That’s why I kept insisting he’s divine. When you look at the clues related to his character, there’s actual foreshadowing that supports this theory. If he isn’t, then nothing makes sense. I even wrote a post as soon as Fatal dropped. I just knew THAT had to be it.

There are so many actions he took that can’t be explained unless he’s something beyond human, things that even gods would need to intervene in, assigning missions to Aqua and Ruby. That’s the development that makes the most sense.

Even so, this plot is too much for fans who have loved and followed this series.

I kind of get it, but for fans who have been deeply attached and following this work(this includes me too), the final chapter… Even if there’s something to look forward to, it doesn’t seem like it’ll be worth getting your hopes up. And I'm usually a very hopeful person. It feels like the author wanted to try writing an ending like this, but even then, this... The last 10 chapters or so feel like they consumed all the preceding content.

If Kamiki had been more prominently featured and well-developed, that might have been different (I probably analyzed him more than anyone else out there, because there wasn’t much to go on, and I tried to understand what kind of person he was, filling in the gaps to infer his behavior and motives since his perspective was never shown). But Kamiki, who isn’t as well-developed as Aqua, now holds a weight in the story that makes Aqua sacrifice everything he’s built. I really wish they did both characters justice. I really liked them both.

In that case, he needs to be an unimaginably terrible villain. From what spoilers suggest, what he’s done is indeed severe. But if Ai truly loved such a person, and that’s flipped with the limited remaining chapters, the story becomes trash... Haha. Then what’s the point? I don’t know. That, I really don't wish nor see being contradicted.

Kamiki was kind but lost his mind. (Him being kind is something I never want to give up till the end. I just see it REALLY well too.) So he did a lot of things, I get that. But can something of this scale really happen in modern society, to the point where the protagonist must sacrifice their life?

If so, shouldn’t there be some justification brought in from outside the story to make it convincing? Hence, Kamiki is essentially a god, as suggested by his very name. He was a noble god who fell. There’s enough context, hints, and foreshadowing to support that. He was exposed to malevolence from a young age and became tainted by it. He probably did love Ai, which is why he wielded his power so recklessly, driven by madness to reunite with her.

But even with this, there’s hardly any explanation. Why he went mad, what he did with his life—it’s all glossed over in a few panels. If he’s the villain that the protagonist *must* defeat, there should have been more depth and depiction to fuel that narrative, but it’s incredibly ambiguous. The story just throws a few lines at us and expects us to believe, “He could do all this, so the protagonist had to die,” and that’s it. (That's why... I'm not really sure if they make it want to seem like he's THE bad guy either. Since it's rarely explored in detail so we can't sympathize with the victims if they exist and...hate this guy even more for it. That approach I agree with, because it shouldn't be that way if this story wants a message. But who knows. Scary stuff; it just makes you baffled and dumbfounded and go, "what is this?";; Again, it'd make me question, 'What kind of guy did Ai even love?' I do have my own answers for that. He's her previous divine husband who became hopelessly flawed upon losing her, THAT'S what, so it's not on HIM that he's turned out that way. But who knows.)

Do you think that’s convincing...?💦 I’m filling in the blanks myself, but this feels too much. Whether the final chapter is 50 pages or 100 pages, it can’t wrap this up properly unless Ruby turns back time to save everyone and bring them happiness. I’ve heard there are about 50 pages for 166, but isn’t that just two chapters’ worth? It’s basically the same as a double issue, and given how little content there’s been in recent chapters, even if they combine two, I don’t think it’ll be impactful.

I genuinely feel sorry for the fans of this series. Does this development make sense to you? I’m so baffled that I can’t help but laugh when I think about the plot. It’s not even funny; it���s just painful to watch. How many people would have wanted this kind of ending? I once wrote that over 70% of fans might end up hating the conclusion, that I have a bad feeling about the writer having some kind of personal ambition to create a "twist" and experiment on it out of their artistic desires - and if it ends like this, they probably will. It's not like I didn't see it coming. I did tell all the others who came to read this work upon reading my fanworks to wait until it's complete, there are some things I really appreciate about it, but I wasn't sure it'd progress on your usual, happy and safe route. It could have been that way. The answers were all there. There were many opportunities where there were chances of this story getting an ending many would be satisfied with,

And if I’m wrong about everything I’ve said here, I’ll be just as lost. I really won’t understand any of it. But I’m confident I’m right.

The traits of Kamiki match those of the husband of Ame-no-Uzume in at least ten ways. That god even had a story that said he drowned.(but if he really died, that's ambiguous and he is worshipped pretty well along with his beloved Amenouzume)That's just too much to be brushed off as coincidence, he's at least INSPIRED from that god.

I believe he was originally very kind. I can’t let go of that idea, because it’s been evident to me, and it sticks in my mind. But if that’s true, then this is the story of someone who was kind but went mad, and a son who became a vengeful spirit after his mother’s death. The mother, worrying about the father, left what was almost like a final wish: “If your father is still straying, won’t you help him with me?” But the son kills his father, thinking there’s no hope for him, and ends up dying himself in the process. If that’s really the story, then how... how can there be any positive message to take away from this?

I think I understand what’s going on. I think I do... but the story has been so unfriendly and, as a result, feels disrespectful to fans who have loved the series.

I'm actually thinking: if Kamiki IS Sarutahiko the god of guidance who's been TWISTED due to making EVERY possibilities of a future turn horribly wrong, are we WITNESSING his powers in real time?? Is THIS an extension of what he's capable of? because, I feel like.. He's been bringing sufferings to everyone including himself. Oh in that case I'd totally understand his pain. He really would be suffering. And he's THAT dangerous. What if this comic is being really meta, huh?? I think he doesn't want this either. Losing Ai just.. Totally shattered him I bet. But seeing how things are, I think it could really have been his powers that caused her to die in the first place, unintentionally though. I won't forgive the author if HE'S the one who's killed Ai AND he's been doing all these things in order to get her back afterwards, that is just...so rude. It has no point...

There’s still one chapter left, and I know it’s not right to make a judgment prematurely, but if things go on like this, it’s truly too much...; I genuinely feel bad for those who have loved this work wholeheartedly. And for myself... if it doesn’t end as I’ve thought, then I’ve been completely mistaken, haha. But I came into this with confidence, not about Aqua’s side of things(I thought HIM out of all should get a happy ending. I still wish for that to happen), but about what the story wanted to convey through Aqua’s parents. I believed there could be a meaningful message despite how difficult it seemed, so I took the initiative and interpreted it, drew a lot. If I’m wrong, I can only blame my insight... The story itself never changed; it just stayed there. But I was confident. I’ve never been wrong when it comes to instincts or analyses related to psychology. I thought I knew what this was...

I hope this work gets resolved in a way that is respectful towards its fans whom really cared for the series...they-we-deserve that as much as the authors deserve respect. We're in this together as a fan and the writers. We should care about each other.

[chairofchaos]

Roots & Offshoots

Pairing: Eris x Fem!Reader (no y/n use, and we’re trying ‘x Reader’ again, folks!) Summary: Eris Vanserra, family man and defender of children, loves his family and his people very much. A slice of domestic life through the eyes of Eris Vanserra’s mate. For Day 2 of Eris Week: Childhood & Legacy (I'm double dipping lol) @erisweekofficial Rating: Teen Word Count: 2.5k Tags & Warnings: Fluffy, with tiny angsty moments, discussions, and allusions. Ends on a happy note! Warnings for Beron Vanserra; abuse, violence (discussed) A/N: Happy Day 2 of Eris Week! Hopefully, this hits the spot with a little fluff. Thank you to @tsunami-of-tears for the gorgeous dividers!

“Daddy, will you tell me a bedtime story?”

Your husband pretended to consider for a moment, the candle beside your daughter’s bed casting a halo of golden light against his red hair and around her head. 

“I suppose we have a bit of time,” he winked at her conspiratorially. You watched from just outside the door, having given her a hug, kiss, and a bedtime story already. She would hear any story you and Eris would tell her, and nag you for more besides, so it wasn’t uncommon for you to read her more than one a night.

“What do you want to read tonight?”

“I want to know what you were like when you were little, like how Mommy talks about the park and the puppy and her friends.” 

“Ah,” he said, adjusting his positioning on the edge of her bed. “Well, let’s see.”

Your daughter didn’t know to look for the subtle twitch of his hand, or the tightening of his jaw. She didn’t know the tells that Eris had, the quiet strength which held back centuries of heartache. She only knew her father as the loving man he displayed in your home. She knew him as the “best hugger in the world,” as she had insisted you caption the picture she drew him for his birthday. As the kisser of her scrapes and cuts from falling out of a tree in the forest. As the one who held her hand when she walked through the streets of the city. Her “favorite Daddy,” as she said every day. “You’re my favorite. My favorite Daddy.”

“Do you have another?” he would ask, his eyes twinkling with mirth. His response never changed, but hers would.

“No. Which means you’re my extra special favorite,” she had explained one rainy morning. “I only have one. Which makes you extra special.”

He had cried that day. He had smiled, and kept it together until she left, holding your niece’s hand as they walked to school together, lunches in hand. When the front door clicked, he spun, tears streaming down his face. It had healed something in him, he told you, something that had felt broken and hopeless even after she had been born.

Her love meant everything to him, to the man whose father had hardly cared to use his name unless it was to berate him with a sneer.

“Let’s see,” he smoothed her blanket up to her shoulders, smiling. “Can I tell you a story about me and Uncle Lucien?”

“No,” she pouted. “Uncle Lucien was a baby when you were big. He said so. I want to know what you were like when you were little like me.”

He faltered for just a moment before yielding to her request. “Let’s see. How about a story about me and Mamé?”

“Yes!” she giggled, wiggling beneath her blankets. She clutched a small plush hound beneath her chin, its ear worn. She had carried it around every day for the first four years of her little life. On occasion, you still saw it in her hand as she skipped through the house singing to herself.

“In the time of Bran, when the leaves were red and the wind sweet, the fire warm and welcoming, there lived a faeling named Eris, and his mother.”

“And that was Mamé, right, Daddy?”

“Yes, love,” Eris chuckled. “They lived in a little house in the woods, with a stream behind the house. Every day, they woke up and went to the stream, and splashed around until they were soaking wet. Sometimes, Eris’ aunt and uncle would come, and they would splash around, too. And the four of them would lay in the grass by the house in the woods and eat the forest berries and drink cream from the neighbor’s cow. The neighbors were our friends, and would come for supper. Mother would cook, and Eris would set the table.”

“Like Mommy taught me?” 

“Yes, sweetheart. Like Mommy taught you.”

“Fork, plate, knife, spoon,” your daughter recited.

“Just like that,” Eris smirked, tapping the tip of her nose with a slender finger. “Smart girl.”

She giggled. “Was Eris good at setting the table?”

Eris twisted his face in a show of thinking very hard about her question. “No,” he decided with a wink in your direction. “He was very, very bad at setting the table, because he didn’t pay attention to where he was going and broke plates almost every day.”

“Every day?” 

“Almost,” he nodded solemnly. “But he was very little, and his mother fixed the broken plates until he learned.”

“That’s nice of her.”

“It was very nice of her.”

“Did she yell?”

Eris paled just slightly. “No. She never yelled, Calliope.”

“That’s good. You don’t yell either, Daddy. My friend’s daddy yells all the time.”

“Hmm,” Eris said. “Well. I hope she’s okay.”

“She is. She says it’s scary.”

“I’m sure it is. Sweetheart, can you tell me and Mommy more about that in the morning?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Good. Now, where was I?”

You turned down the hallway. He would be another few minutes, but you couldn’t keep standing in the hall. It had been a long day, interactions with courtiers, staff, and . You didn’t mind taking some of the responsibilities for Eris on occasion, especially if it meant he could get away for moments like this. 

One or two more letters wouldn’t hurt tonight. The rest could wait until morning, after the children had come for breakfast and left for school, the small pack of them all. 

It had been one of Eris’ first decisions after your marriage. Your nieces and nephews descended on the house for breakfast every morning before lessons. He cooked with the staff more often than not, you, your siblings and one of the two brothers whom he had reconciled with, and all their spouses, crowded around the dining room table while your mate brought out the food each morning. He loved cooking, one of the few joys he held onto through his tumultuous younger years. 

Over the years, the number of children had grown, and you had expanded the dining room to fit everyone. Now, Calliope joined them, cooking with Eris before going off to school every day. She had asked if one or two of her friends could join, and soon, more than half her class was at your house for breakfast. It was just as well. Her cousins were older than her, and she enjoyed the company. It also resulted in her being exposed to families outside your own, with a greater variety of company. You all were invited to dinner at least once a week at the houses of various classmates, and it afforded you and Eris the ability to feel normal, even if some of the motivation behind the invitations was likely the bragging rights of dining with the High Lord and his family.

Calliope enjoyed it, her ruddy cheeks bright as she skipped ahead with bows in her hair. “Mommy, look!” she cried on one occasion, a moth fluttering in the bushes at the roadside. “It’s pretty!” 

“It’s very pretty, Callie,” you agreed. She reached out a chubby hand, giggling. 

“Let’s not touch it,” Eris called. “Let it fly, love. Let it fly.”

He gazed at her with such adoration, her innocence and joy at the world. That open adoration was something he rarely allowed in himself, even after his father’s death. 

You turned your attention back to the letters at hand, writing until you set down your pen and reached for the ink blotter. 

A strong hand settled on your shoulder as you pressed the blotter against the page, rolling it over the text you had written to the Minister of Commerce.

“Hello, sweetness,” he bent to press a kiss to your head. You hummed in acknowledgement, setting the ink blotter and the letter aside to dry. 

“Hello, handsome,” you smiled up at him. He came around your chair, spinning it so you faced him as he leaned against the corner of the desk. 

“Working after supper again?”

You shrugged. “You were telling an excellent story. I figured one more wouldn’t hurt.”

Eris raised an eyebrow. “If it were me, you’d be stealing the pen out of my hand.”

“I was done when you got here,” you protested. “And-”

He raised a finger, his lips twisting. The mirth you recognized earlier returned to his eyes as he corrected, “You were not done. I’ve been here since paragraph two.”

Your eyes widened, even as you smiled in jest. “Well, it’s a very important letter.”

“Ah. A very important letter, you say,” he bowed to look you levelly in the eyes, his nose inches from yours. “More important than sleep?”

You nod in mock solemnity, leaning backwards. “Much.”

“More important than your well-being?”

“Oh, entirely.”

“I must disagree with both your somethings,” he said seriously, but then returned to his teasing. “More important than your husband?”

You laugh, raising a hand to brush his cheek. “Never.”

“Never? Well, then what are you doing at that desk?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m done now,” you grinned, accepting his hand to raise yourself from the chair.

“Come to bed with me,” he wrapped his arms around your waist, dropping his head to your shoulder. 

You nudged him backwards, the two of you maneuvering around to the side of the desk before releasing each other from your embrace. 

“Did she like the story?” you asked, pulling him with you from the office. 

“I think so,” Eris sighed. “I didn’t.”

You were silent. It was easier, he had told you once, to fill the silence rather than answer questions. 

He continued, turning to his dresser, “The story was true. I wouldn’t lie to her, not outright. Not if I can truly help it. But the truth was… it was during the massacre. It was where Mother took me to avoid the bloodshed.”

You winced. The massacre of nobles under Beron’s reign was the single spot in Autumn history which had not been overshadowed in brutality by Amarantha’s slaughter. It was the single most bloody conflict in the last three thousand years, and had solidified Beron’s hold over too many things for far too long. Eris had been no more than six, and yet the stain of his father’s reign hung over him like a dense fog.

He retrieved his night clothes, tossing you a garment from his drawer. You smiled and nodded, slipping out of your evening dress and replacing it with his shirt. “Thank you.”

He smiled over his shoulder, rummaging in the drawers again. “Here,” he added, tossing you a pair of wool socks. “Your feet were freezing last night.”

You pouted. “You’re a lord of fire, it shouldn’t be a problem when I use you to warm myself.”

“You’re just using me,” he laughed. “If you want to use me for warmth, at least have the decency to cuddle me while you do it.”

“I do!” You protested. “But you were a furnace.”

“If I was a furnace, and you were cuddling me,” he crossed his arms, smirking, “then how come your feet were cold?”

You rolled your eyes, laughing as you slid into bed. “I don’t know what to tell you except that I am right, and you are not.”

“Well,” Eris drawled slowly. “I see we want to fight tonight.”

You smirked in return, tucking the blankets around your waist. “If by fight you mean sleep in preparation for the incredibly busy day we have tomorrow, then I have to agree. Otherwise…”

Eris inclined his head. “It is outrageously busy tomorrow. Still. I’d like to hold my wife, please.”

“Come to bed with me,” you whispered, tossing the quilt from his side of the bed. He joined you, rolling into your side with his arm around your waist. “Anything you want, sweetness.”

You both were silent. Eris extinguished the candle flames with a twitch of his finger, breathing deeply in your neck. You stroked his back gently, fingers catching on the soft cotton of his thin shirt. It was a wonder he preferred sleeping in one at all. Habits formed in childhood rarely break, you supposed.

“She’s the same age I was when the massacres happened,” Eris whispers. You nod, not stopping your gentle movements. “What legacy will I leave to her? Will she inherit his evils through me? And the harm done in my time? What will her life be, seven centuries from now?”

You sighed. “We can’t know that. But as far as I know, you haven’t slaughtered the entire nobility, adults and children alike. You care for her. You care for her friends, our family, our extended family. You love her, and me.”

He huffed a laugh. “I don’t want to hurt her.”

“I know,” you whispered. “I know. And we will, in some ways. But we do our best.”

“She told me I’m her favorite daddy again,” he laughed. “I tucked her in– like a river nymph, as always– and she said it in the sleepiest voice.”

You smiled. “She means it.”

“Do you know which friend it is she was talking about?”

“The one whose father yells?”

“Yes.”

“No,” you sighed. 

Eris was protective of his daughter, and, by extension, her friends. It was no doubt Eris would have a conversation with the man if he found anything to his distaste. Eris Vanserra, defender of children. The savior he had needed as a child, come centuries too late. “I’d rather be certain of harm before we say anything at all.”

“I know,” he murmured. “I truly hope sheis alright.” 

“Laws are stricter now. You could send someone, instead of getting involved yourself.”

“Don’t I owe it to Callie, to help her friend?”

“You did help her friend. You wrote those laws yourself, forced them through the council. You insisted on trained professionals in every school, to educate the children on what abuse was and what it looked like, the forms it could take. You’ve done a great deal to ensure their safety, and you did it all well before she was even born.”

“It doesn’t seem like enough.”

“Eris, this is a part of your legacy,” you nudged his cheek with your palm until he raised his head to look at you. “This is what you are giving her. This is what you leave her, greater safety for her and her peers, and an example to follow. Not a massacre, but safety. Not fear, but love.”

He nodded. “I know. I know that. It still feels too little.”

“To them, it isn’t little…”

“‘...to them, it’s everything’,” he finished the line from his own speech with a chuckle. He had said that, at the ceremony to pass the laws which now protected the children of Autumn. “Alright. I’ll let them handle it.”

“Good,” you kissed his forehead. “Now please remember that your daughter needs her favorite daddy whole and entire in the morning.”

“Her mother, too,” he poked your side until you squirmed, laughing. “Stop it!”

He kissed you gently through his smile, his hands gripping your hips as he rolled, pulling you on top of him.

“I love you,” you whispered between lazy kisses. 

“I love you, sweetness.”

Taglist: @lilah-asteria @c-starstuff-man0 @unanswered-stars @dusk-muse @ninthcircleofprythian

[snailstep-and-her-clan]

“Snailstep!” At that moment, Ermineclaw came bounding towards her. He skidded to an awkward halt, dipping his head in an attempt to appear dignified and not like he’d been dashing over like an excited apprentice. “You… look well. How’s the prey running in Shadowclan?”

“It’s running.” Snailstep offered dryly. “I suppose that mate of yours was happy to see you were back home safe, then?” Ermineclaw had no way of knowing the pain his words inflicted on her, but it was as if a clutch of blackthorns had pierced her heart, leaving her breathless.  She wondered for a moment if she should tell her friend the truth, but she didn’t know if she could do it without wailing like a kit in the middle of the gathering, and she’d been humiliated enough for a lifetime without piling more on top of it. “Oh, he was… surprised.” She said, forcing a purr through gritted teeth.  Ermineclaw may have been dense, but she could see a flicker of suspicion in the orange and white tom's face. She hoped he wouldn’t pry further, but she could see him starting to open his mouth.  “So, did Icestar take you back as deputy?” Snailstep barreled through, trying to quickly change the subject.  “Oh!” Ermineclaw puffed out his chest, clearing his throat importantly. “Why yes, he did!” “How’d your clanmates feel about that?” He deflated like a bullfrog. “Ah… well… they might have been a bit… unreceptive to the idea. They all preferred Softcreek to me… unsurprisingly.” “That’s too bad.” Snailstep offered sympathetically. “Maybe they’ll come around.” Ermineclaw gave a noncommittal grunt.  There was a long moment of awkward silence before Ermineclaw looked at her. “Can I be honest? I… would prefer Softcreek as well… if it were up to me.” “Have you told Icestar that?” “I… can’t.” Ermineclaw averted his gaze. “I play the conversation out in my head all the time, but… I just can’t find the courage to tell him to his face.” Snailstep gave her friend a slow, affectionate blink and bumped her shoulder against his. “I get it. But whatever happens, I’m rooting for you.”

Lore:

Even when they made it back home and went their separate ways, Snailstep and Ermineclaw remained friends and sought each other's company during gatherings.

Also, yes, I have a TikTok, lol. The sound made me think of this snippet I wrote, so I was inspired me to make a janky little pmv.

Snailsteps ruff makes her look like a Sonic fan character, and I forgot to make Ermineclaws tail tip black lol.

[cosyvelvetorchid]

If you are still taking prompts “say it again” “i love you” “ah- again” “i love you” “i- i love you too”

Sorry for the delay. I finished writing it them promptly fell asleep lol. Anyway here it is. Enjoy!

As always you can send me bucktommy or saltommy prompts, fluff or smut, and I'll wrote something.

Thanks 🩶

*****

Sal and Tommy had been ordered to sit in the engine. They were two grown ass men, in their mid thirties and Cap had put them on a fucking time out. It was the right call, from Cap's perspective - he was tired of hearing them both snipe at eachother all morning. He gave them the option of a time out to work things out or get written up. Sal was already 2 strikes deep and a 3rd would mean a firing.

The 118 were on standby at a festival. 122 and 147 were primary so the 118's engine was parked at the back of the parking lot just in case. Everyone else had left them alone to work their shit out.

They sat at opposite corners in the back of the engine. Both sat solid with their arms folded across their chests. The silence that hung between them was heavy.

"What were you thinking mouthing off to Cap?" Tommy snapped, breaking the silence.

"Go fuck yourself, Tommy." Sal sniped back. Tommy scoffed.

"Yeah typical Sal - throwing his toys put of the stroller when he's in the wrong."

"As apposed to typical Tommy, who thinks he always knows best?" He threw back.

"Whats that supposed to mean?"

"You always make decisions for other people because you think they're too dumb to make decisions for themselves."

"That is not true." Tommy argued.

"Yes it is! You did it with me. You ended things with me because you decided I wasn't ready. You decided I was too stupid to know what I wanted."

"I.. that's not.. " For once Sal was actually wrong. Sal wasn't the reason Tommy ended things. Tommy was.

"You wanna know what I think?" Stupid question, really, because it wouldn't matter if Tommy didn't want to know, Sal would always give his opinion anyway. "I think that this has nothing to do with me and everything to do with you. I think that your scared. I think you're sacred that this has turned into something real and your default is to run. But because you can't admit that, you have to make out that I'm the problem so you can feel better about bailing." He slid across the seats so he was sitting directly opposite Tommy. "Tell me I'm wrong."

"I..." Sal was right. Annoyingly, frustratingly right. Tommy was terrified. He'd never let anybody in has much as he had with Sal over the last 6 months and it scared the shit out of him. Sal sighed and his face softened.

"Tommy, I don't know how many times I have to tell you than I'm in this before you believe me. Yes, it's new for me, and half the time, I don't know what I'm doing, but I'm not a child - I know what I want. You. But you have to decide what you want. Not what you think I need."

Tommy didn't need to think about what he wanted. He leaned forward grabbing at Sals face and planting his lips firmly on his. Sal responded immediately my opening his mouth allowing their tongues to massage eachothers. His hands were all over Tommy. A low grunt came from Tommys throat as Sals hands quickly unbuttoned his turnouts and reached inside to feel Tommy beneath his underwear. Sal pulled him out entirely and began fisting up and and down quickly.

Tommy had spent the last 3 weeks trying not to think about Sal. Trying not to think about how he handled his dick, how he kissed Tommy like he was the first person he'd ever kissed and yet somehow the last person he would ever kiss. How just the thought of Sal being at his place when he walked through the door made his entire soul feel warm. And how that feeling in his stomach when they had first crossed the line of their friendship had slowly spread upwards to his heart and taken root deep inside.

As Sal was kissing and touching him within an inch of his life, those feelings were working their up from his chest to his throat and mouth and now lay delicately on the tip of his tongue.

"God I've missed you." Sal panted into his ear as he kissed down Tommy's neck.

"I.. fuck Sal.. I.." He couldn't hold it in any longer. The words tumbled out of his mouth full force. "I love you."

Sal stopped moving his hand. He lifted his head to meet Tommys gaze. Tommy's stomach filled with utter terror and his mind scrambled to think of a way to get out of this. To somehow take back the words that Sal would more than likely not reciprocate. Sals eyes confidenltly bore into Tommys.

"Say it again." He whispered firmly not moving his eyes from Tommy's.

"I love you." Tommy repeated feeling like all his organs were vibrating. Sal began moving his hand again causing Tommy to catch his breath.

"Ah-again." Sal demanded.

"I love you."

"I-i love you too." He pressed his lips so unbelievably gently onto Tommy's that it was enough for Tommy to tumble over the edge, coating sals hand and his own chest with everything he had inside of him.

[wellcollapse]

Last anon I forgot but I also think quite fee que toy about buck meets the diazes lol this is me coming out as a fangirl for your writing

hi and also hello!! i'm gonna use this as my tease tidbit tuesday but really it's all for you :)

i was also tagged by @cal-daisies-and-briars, thank you 🥰

tagging @bewilderedbuck @captain-hen @loserdiaz @jeeyuns @shitouttabuck

@likegoldintheair @elvensorceress @wildlife4life @eddiebabygirldiaz @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove

@daffi-990 :)

“I’m sorry. Did I interrupt something?”  “Ah — no, you’re good,” Buck says. “ I was just trying to calculate how much food I’d need to buy for this recipe. We’re, uh, we’re having a barbecue later this week. It’s actually for—”  “For your birthday, yes," Ramon murmurs. "Eddie told us earlier this morning.”  “Yeah,” Buck says, grinning. “Anyway, I told him we could cancel it, or reschedule, but he wouldn’t hear it. So now I’ve got to figure out how much shrimp I’ll need to feed twenty-seven people — or, I guess  it’s twenty-eight, now, since I know Abuela wouldn’t miss it for the world. I know Michael — Bobby’s wife’s ex-husband  — is trying to go vegan, and so is his son Harry, and I know Hen’s son is allergic to garlic, so I’ll have to check the potluck list and make sure that everyone else brings enough for them to eat. They’re going to need at least one entreé, plus a few appetizers and a couple of desserts that they’d want to eat, so I need to make sure we have it all on the spreadsheet. It’s, uh, it’s a lot of work, but…” Buck falters when he sees the look on Ramon’s face.  “You’re inviting your captain’s wife’s ex-husband?” Ramon asks, enunciating each word slowly, like he doesn’t fully understand what he’s hearing.  “They’re still friends,” Buck says hesitantly. “Besides — that’s how we work. At the 118, you know, we’re like a big extended family. Parents, siblings, cousins, friends — everyone is welcome.”  “I see,” Ramon says. So I’ve got twenty-eight people I need to buy shrimp for,” Buck says wryly. He bites his lip, making a split-second decision. “Thirty, if you and Mrs. Diaz want to come too.”  Ramon leans away slightly, obviously taken aback. “Are you sure, Buck? We wouldn’t want to disrupt your birthday plans.” “Nah, no worries, Mr. Diaz. Eddie was really excited about this trip — I know it means a lot that you guys are here to visit. ” Buck shrugs, the corner of his mouth tugging up in a slight smile. “ I’m sure Eddie would be happy to have you there, and thirty is an easier number than twenty-eight, anyway.”  “Well, thank you.” Ramon says, seemingly mollified. He leans back against the couch, his expression softening into something more gentle. “I appreciate you saying that, Buck. I know your opinion is important to my son.”  “I hope so,” Buck says quietly. “Eddie, he — his opinion is really important to me, too.” He swallows down the sudden lump in his throat. “I — I don’t think I’d be where I am today without him.” Shit.  It’s too much, too vulnerable, too soon, and Buck clamps his mouth shut tight. “Uh—” he says hastily, shaking his head. “I — I just mean that I’d probably still be rooting for the Eagles during the Super Bowl if Eddie hadn’t been there to show me the light.”  This is, apparently, the right thing to say, because the slight smile on Ramon’s face widens.