#and in the beginning it more than a bit overwhelming

[p0orbaby]

It’s Called Free Fall

summary: therapy makes you realise a lot of things

warnings: none

a/n: there’s not actually any alexia in this, but she is mentioned

word count: 2.7k

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The therapist’s office feels like it’s been curated for someone far more refined than you—someone who actually takes their therapy seriously, rather than as an ironic lifestyle choice. The walls are a pale, flat grey that veers perilously close to lifeless, and there’s this overwhelming sense of emptiness, like everything here exists for display rather than use. The chairs, two narrow-backed leather things angled just slightly towards each other, appear less like furniture and more like sculptures. You imagine some recent graduate from a New York art school positioned them just so, meticulously arranging each one to make sure it induced the precise mix of discomfort and luxury.

The table between you and Dr. Vargas is another matter entirely—a sleek slab of polished mahogany, thick enough that you could lean your entire weight on it without even a squeak of protest. Its surface is bare except for a single leather-bound notebook, a fountain pen and a ceramic dish, all aligned to a degree that feels almost militaristic. There’s not a single loose thread in the rug, not a fingerprint on the glass of the one window facing out onto a garden view that’s suspiciously verdant for the middle of winter.

Even the fern, perched in the corner like it’s waiting for its close-up, seems too green, too lush. It’s ridiculous, but it’s all part of the aesthetic, this carefully curated minimalism, the kind of cultivated restraint that says, “We don’t need embellishments. We’re here for the truth.” You’re here, supposedly, for honesty and revelation. But to you, it all feels a bit too staged, like a hotel that boasts a “homely charm” but is actually cold and sterile beneath the surface. You suspect Dr. Vargas might even mist the plant herself in some sacred ritual of maintenance, a sort of last-minute grounding exercise to fill the silence between clients.

You settle back in the chair, draping one leg over the other, and make a mental note to mention it next time you’re in some magazine interview. “Austere,” you’d say, “but in a chic way. I once caught my therapist hand-polishing the leaves of a houseplant.” You let yourself savour the image for a moment, glancing at the fern, which seems to return your gaze with silent judgement.

Dr. Vargas has her pen poised in that infuriatingly neutral way, a half-smile that somehow manages to be both welcoming and utterly unreadable. She’s mastered this look; the expression that says, I’m here for you while also suggesting she’s already a step ahead, already written your entire profile out in her head, neatly categorised into sub-headings like “Avoidant Tendencies” and “Control Issues.”

You begin with a sigh, throwing a glance at the ceiling in mock contemplation. “I’ve been thinking about another place. A chalet, maybe. Something in the mountains this time.” You pause, letting the idea sit, feigning like it’s just occurred to you. “Somewhere remote, where people can’t just… get to me”

You’re fully aware that she sees right through it. This isn’t her first rodeo; you’re sure she’s dealt with hundreds like you before, masters of diversion who fill sessions with banalities rather than facing anything real. But Dr. Vargas, in all her maddening professionalism, gives nothing away. She just tilts her head, the soft scratch of her pen against her notebook barely there as she writes something down.

“A place to escape,” she offers back to you in that maddeningly placid tone.

“Yes. Escape,” you echo, knowing full well the word holds no weight here. Escape from what, exactly? You let your leg bounce a little, as if the rhythm might lend some gravity to your words. “And there’s this new project I’m in talks with—A24, actually. They want me to do something… serious. A proper rebrand. Gritty. Artistic.” You drawl out “artistic” with the faintest of smirks, like you’re amused at the thought of it all. A lifetime of playing these games, and you’re practically a pro by now.

Dr. Vargas’s face betrays not a flicker of interest or amusement. She simply nods, that little encouraging tilt of her head again, like she’s waiting for you to get to the real point, the heart of the matter. But you’re not giving in so easily.

“It could be big, you know,” you continue, lifting your chin a fraction. “And I’ve got Alexia, of course.” The name slips out, deliberately nonchalant, though you feel its weight instantly, like it’s left a mark on the air between you.

Dr. Vargas raises her eyebrows, ever so slightly. “Alexia,” she repeats, not quite a question, not quite a statement. Just… acknowledgment, and yet it still feels as if she’s plucked something out of you without you realising. You don’t like it, the way she turns your own words against you.

“Yeah,” you say, shrugging. “She’s… brilliant. On the field, off it. You know, she’s—” You trail off, allowing a smirk to play on your lips. “Not bad to look at, either”

She gives no reaction, doesn’t even break eye contact. You imagine her poker face would rival that of any seasoned card shark. But it’s her silence that presses at you, coaxing out more than you intend to reveal. It’s a trick she’s used before, and yet here you are, willingly falling into it.

“Honestly,” you continue, almost laughing as if sharing some private joke, “you should see her after a match. There’s this… intensity, this rawness. Shirt off, sweat-drenched, eyes still blazing from the game. It’s… invigorating.” You roll the word around like a fine wine, savouring it as you go. “It’s like the universe threw me a bone, just when I was getting bored”

Dr. Vargas finally moves, a slight shift of her head, her mouth curving up in a near-smile. “And yet, you’re here”

Her words drop between you like a carefully placed stone. You scoff, rolling your eyes, but there’s something in her expression—an almost imperceptible softness that somehow feels like an accusation. “Therapy’s a hobby,” you shrug, leaning back, as if the very idea of anything deeper is laughable. “I’m always in therapy, Doc. News flash”

“Yes,” she agrees smoothly, not missing a beat, “but you don’t usually bring her up”

“Come on,” you counter, with a smirk that’s designed to look careless, “I bring her up all the time”

“Not like this”

Her voice is calm, almost gentle, but her gaze sharpens, pinning you in place. You feel a spike of irritation, or maybe it’s something else. You cast a look towards the fern, now faintly silhouetted by the afternoon sun, its shadow long and narrow across the wall, an unasked-for third party in this strange little dance. The absurdity of the whole scene hits you, but before you can fully detach, she’s speaking again.

“You’re talking about her differently. More… openly.” There’s no edge to her tone, no overt judgment, yet it feels like she’s peeled back a layer, glimpsed a part of you you hadn’t meant to reveal.

In the moments that follow, you stub out your cigarette on the pristine ceramic dish Vargas keeps on the table, the one she’s claimed is “not for smoking” but never actually moved after that one session. You’ve taken it as tacit permission, though you know damn well it irritates her—just another way to test the boundaries in a room that prides itself on having none. That’s half the point of these sessions: see how far you can stretch them. How much she’ll let you say, or not say. And you’ve mastered the art of saying absolutely nothing, all while filling the space with empty words.

Dr. Vargas doesn’t speak, doesn’t press, which is almost worse than if she did. There’s just the persistent softness in her eyes, the quiet implication that she understands more than you’d prefer. You remember Alexia’s eyes looking at you like that once, right after you’d tried to make some grand point about the nature of relationships—one of those pseudo-philosophical tangents you like to go on. She’d just looked at you, with a kind of bemused patience that felt a little too genuine, a little too close to knowing you.

You roll your shoulders, shake off the memory. But it clings.

“Alright,” you say, letting the smoke spill out as you form the words. “Maybe I don’t do ‘love’ like everyone else. I’m not here for a candlelit dinner and a mortgage. I’m not,” you add with a quick laugh, “one of those people who turn into some sap over a nice couple’s holiday in Santorini”

Dr. Vargas gives a small nod, an acknowledgement rather than agreement, her expression neutral but open, giving you room to continue.

“But, yes. Fine.” You take another drag, a deliberate pause. “Maybe I… care about her. I care about her. She’s different, alright?”

“Different how?” she asks gently, with an infuriatingly patient tone.

You groan, shifting in your seat. “Come on, don’t make me quantify it. That’s your thing, not mine.” You know you’re stalling, using your usual deflections, but there’s an itch underneath it, a part of you that feels raw just acknowledging that Alexia is, in fact, ‘different.’

You can feel her eyes on you, waiting for you to take the bait you’ve laid out for yourself.

“Fine, you want specifics?” you sigh, feigning annoyance, though you know you’re the one who’s led the conversation here. “She… laughs at my worst jokes. Like, really laughs. Not in a polite way, but genuinely, like she thinks I’m the funniest person alive, even when I’m barely trying. It’s stupid, really, but it gets me”

“And how does that make you feel?” Vargas leans forward, like she’s zeroing in on something significant.

You chuckle, low and dismissive, waving the question off with your cigarette. “How do you think it makes me feel? It’s… fine. Nice. A bit strange, maybe. I’m not used to being seen like that.” You pause, the weight of that admission lingering in the air between you.

She doesn’t react, doesn’t push; she just lets the moment settle, knowing there’s more.

You sigh, smoke curling up around you, as your mind goes back to other little things—the way she has this weird ritual of picking all the green M&Ms out of the bag and tossing them to you, claiming they’re “bad luck.” How she insists on reading the morning news out loud, in that silly, exaggerated announcer voice, just to make you laugh while you pretend to read emails. Or how she makes you tea at exactly the right temperature, handing you the mug with a grin like she’s just given you a priceless gift. These are things that, on the surface, should be forgettable, the kind of mundane moments that fade. But they don’t, do they? Not with her.

Dr. Vargas’s voice interrupts your reverie, soft but insistent. “You’re smiling”

You realise she’s right; you’re smiling without even meaning to, and it’s a small, stupid smile, the kind that feels too open. You try to erase it, but it’s too late. The vulnerability’s already there, a quiet confession written across your face.

You roll your eyes, more at yourself than at her. “Alright, so what? So she’s… alright, she’s fun. She’s got that energy, you know, that lightness. It’s kind of… refreshing”

The words slip out unbidden, and you feel a pang of something resembling regret. Refreshing. A word that implies something else by omission—that most of your life, most people you’ve known, have been exhausting. The irony isn’t lost on you: someone so completely different from your own brand of detached sarcasm, from your carefully cultivated ennui, has managed to slip under the radar and wedge herself into your carefully controlled life.

Dr. Vargas watches, her silence pressing you forward.

“Look, I don’t think about it too much,” you say, trying to inject a casual note into your tone. “I don’t need to psychoanalyse every smile, every inside joke. I’m not here to have my relationship broken down into neat little psych terms”

“Maybe you should think about it,” Vargas says gently. “Maybe that’s why you’re here”

You scoff, but there’s a softness in the sound, a hint of resignation. Because she’s right, isn’t she? You came here because, as much as you don’t want to admit it, this thing with Alexia has started to matter, in a way that’s both terrifying and strangely compelling. You’ve always prided yourself on staying a step removed, on being a spectator in your own life, observing rather than fully engaging. But with her, you’re finding it harder to keep that distance.

“Fine,” you mutter, leaning back, letting your head rest against the chair, staring up at the ceiling as though the answers might be written there. “Maybe she’s… special”

The words feel strange in your mouth, too vulnerable, too open. You don’t say “special” often, especially not in this context. But there it is, a reluctant admission.

“I mean, it’s not like I’m in love with her,” you continue, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. “She’s great—don’t get me wrong. She’s amazing in bed. I can’t remember the last time someone made me cum so much. And she’s got this thing about her, you know? Like this fire, this intensity. It’s like when she looks at me, she’s looking right through me. And yeah, I guess that’s… intoxicating. But that’s all it is. Right?”

Dr. Vargas nods, a small, subtle gesture. “Why does that scare you?”

You don’t answer right away. Instead, you watch the smoke dancing away from your cigarette, dissipating into the air, leaving nothing behind but a faint, lingering scent. You think about what it is you’re so afraid of—because there’s something there, something you can’t quite name, a sense that if you let this thing with Alexia continue, it might change you in ways you’re not ready for.

“Because I don’t do… attachment,” you say finally, the words coming out sharper than intended. “I’ve built a life that doesn’t depend on anyone else. And she’s… she’s a complication”

You can feel Vargas watching you, sensing the weight of what you’re not saying, the unspoken truth that this isn’t just about Alexia, that it’s about something deeper, a fear of vulnerability, of losing control. She doesn’t push, though; she just waits, letting the silence do the work for her.

After a long pause, you take a breath, letting your gaze drift to the fern by the window, its leaves glossy and perfect, so meticulously maintained it almost looks fake. You wonder if it’s ever felt the strain of trying to keep everything together, to present a flawless exterior while something more fragile lurks beneath the surface.

“You know,” you say, almost to yourself, “it’s funny. For the longest time, I thought love was just a distraction, a temporary fix for people who couldn’t handle being alone.” You take another drag from your cigarette, exhaling slowly. “But with her, it’s… it’s different. It’s like she makes everything brighter, sharper, like she’s tuned into some frequency I didn’t know existed”

Dr. Vargas doesn’t respond, just nods, letting you continue.

“And the worst part?” You chuckle, a self-deprecating sound. “The worst part is that she’s getting to me. She’s in my head, even when she’s not there. I find myself thinking about her in the middle of the day, wondering what she’s up to, if she’s thinking about me too”

There’s a fragility in the admission, a crack in the armour you’ve built around yourself. And it terrifies you, this sense of letting someone in, of letting them get close enough to matter.

You stub out your cigarette, watching the last curl of smoke dissipate into the air. It feels like a metaphor for something, though you’re not sure what.

Dr. Vargas gives you a small, knowing smile. “Maybe falling in love isn’t as bad as you think it will be,” she says gently.

You shrug, trying to play it off, but there’s a part of you that knows she’s right. Because for all your detachment, all your carefully cultivated distance, there’s something about Alexia that feels like home, like she’s a part of you you didn’t realise was missing.

“Maybe,” you say, the words soft, barely audible.

Love. The word lingers like an uninvited guest. You try to dismiss it, try to laugh it off, but it keeps creeping back in.

[reidmania]

slow it down | s.reid

summary; when life feels like its moving too fast and you feel like you're falling behind, spencer is there to slow it down.

warnings; i kind of feel like this is occ.. fem reader, established relationships, feeling like your falling behind in life, overwhelmed, insecurity, comforting wise spencer, i lowkey feel like this is kinda cringe but IDK.. self reflection

an; um.. so i am so sorry for neglecting you guys lately.

You’re sitting on the edge of your bed, fingers tracing over a stack of old photos from years that somehow feel closer and farther away than they should. The soft morning light filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room, but you can’t seem to feel it. It’s like you’re living in fast-forward, like everyone around you has figured out the secret to living, and you’re just scrambling to catch up. There’s a constant hum in the back of your mind, a quiet sense of urgency that keeps telling you, You’re falling behind.

And then there’s Spencer. Reliable, steady, intelligent Spencer, with his endless curiosity and his warm, steady gaze. Sometimes, you think he sees the world at a slower pace. He notices the way the trees change color in the fall, the way the clouds drift lazily across the sky, the way your breathing hitches when you’re overwhelmed. You’re not sure how he does it — how he lives in a world where time is patient, gentle even.

“Hey,” his voice breaks the quiet as he steps into the room, soft but firm, pulling you back to reality. “I noticed you didn’t sleep much last night.”

You give a small shrug, brushing the hair out of your face. “Just… thinking. That’s all.”

He sits beside you, close but not overwhelming, his presence grounding. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You’re not sure where to begin. There’s so much tangled up inside — the worry about where you’re going, the guilt of not doing enough, the fear that everyone else is moving forward while you’re stuck in place. It’s all too big, too heavy, and it clings to you like a second skin.

“Sometimes,” you say, staring down at your hands, “it feels like I’m watching everyone else live their lives at this… impossible speed. Like they’re running ahead, and I’m trying so hard to keep up, but I just… can’t.”

He watches you with that familiar look of quiet understanding, as though he’s absorbing every word. “I know it feels like that. But you’re doing more than you think, even if it doesn’t feel that way. Life isn’t a race, no matter what it seems like.”

You smile a little, but it’s strained. “Easy for you to say. You’re Dr. Spencer Reid. You’ve got three Ph.D’s.” It was unfair, you knew life wasn’t easy on him. He didn’t mind, he didn’t take offence at your insecurity.

His laugh is soft, a bit self-conscious. “It’s not always about how much you’ve done, you know. It’s about… what’s meaningful to you. And the world can feel fast because it’s busy and loud, but that doesn’t mean it’s moving faster than you can handle.”

You let his words sink in, wanting to believe them. He’s always been so good at that — seeing things in a way you can’t, finding meaning in moments you’d overlook. You think back to all those quiet mornings with him, sipping coffee while he reads, or the way he’ll point out little details in the most ordinary things. He lives with intention, like every second holds something worth noticing. “Teach me how to do that,” you murmur, almost to yourself. “How to… slow down, like you do.”

He shifts a little closer, his arm draping over your shoulders. “We can start now, if you’d like.”

“Here?” you ask, a little surprised.

“Why not?” He gives a small shrug, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on your shoulder. “The world outside can wait a little. Right now, it’s just us.”

So, you close your eyes, focusing on the warmth of his hand, the even rhythm of his breathing beside you. He begins to talk, softly, almost to himself, about the small things that make up the moment — the softness of the sheets, the faint sound of birds outside, the warmth of the sunlight coming through the window. It’s strange, hearing him describe the world like this, like a piece of poetry instead of a rush of responsibilities. And slowly, something shifts within you. You’re not sure if it’s because of his voice or his hand on your shoulder, but the weight on your chest starts to ease.

“Sometimes,” he says, “I think we get caught up in thinking life has to be monumental, or it has to mean something big. But there’s value in the small moments too, even the ones where you feel like nothing is happening.”

You open your eyes and look at him. His gaze is soft, steady, like he’s known this all along but has been waiting for you to see it too. “You really believe that?”

“More than anything,” he nods, his hand slipping down to intertwine with yours. “And maybe if we slow down, even just a little, we can find that there’s more here than we thought.”

He suggests you both go for a walk. At first, you resist — it feels like there’s no time for that. But then you see the gentle insistence in his eyes, and you let yourself give in. Outside, the air is crisp, and the leaves are beginning to change, painting the trees in vibrant shades of red and gold. You wouldn’t have noticed it on your own, but Spencer points it out, marveling at the colors like it’s the first time he’s seen them.

The path winds through a quiet park, and he takes his time pointing out things you’d usually ignore: the sound of a squirrel rustling in the bushes, the faint smell of pine, the way the sunlight filters through the branches. You begin to feel your mind quiet, your worries slipping away as you take in each small moment.

“See?” he says, smiling as he catches you watching a butterfly flutter past. “The world doesn’t have to be rushing by. We just have to choose not to rush with it.”

And for the first time in what feels like forever, you feel yourself relax. You’re not falling behind. You’re not racing to catch up. You’re just here, in this moment, with Spencer beside you, and that’s enough.

After the walk, you both settle into a quiet cafe nearby. There’s no agenda, no rush, just the simple joy of being together. You sip your coffee slowly, tasting it in a way you usually don’t, letting each sip warm you from the inside. Across the table, Spencer is reading a book, but every now and then, he glances up, meeting your eyes with a quiet smile. It feels easy, natural, as though the world outside the cafe doesn’t even exist.

The afternoon stretches on, a lazy, unhurried thing, and you find yourself wishing that every day could be like this — free from the pressure to be something, to achieve something. Just… peaceful.

“I think I could get used to this,” you say, looking out the window, watching people stroll by without a care in the world.

“Then let’s make it a habit,” he replies softly, reaching across the table to squeeze your hand. “Slow days. Just us. Whenever you need it.”

“Really?” you ask, a little surprised. “Even with your job? With everything you have going on?”

He nods, his gaze steady. “Life doesn’t have to be all or nothing. I want to be there for you. To be here, with you. No matter what else is going on.”

For the first time, you feel a sense of calm settle over you, like maybe — just maybe — you don’t have to keep running to be enough. That there’s space in this world for you to slow down, to take things one step at a time. And knowing that Spencer is by your side makes it all feel possible, in a way it never has before.

You lean across the table, resting your head on his shoulder, breathing in his familiar scent. “Thank you, Spencer. For… reminding me.”

He smiles, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “Always. Just remember, you’re not alone in this. I’m here, and we’ll figure it out together. One slow day at a time.

As you sit there, nestled against him, you let yourself believe that it’s true — that life doesn’t have to be a race, that you’re allowed to live at your own pace, to notice the small things, to savor each moment as it comes.

For the first time in a long time, you feel yourself slow down, the endless rush in your mind finally quieting. And in that silence, you find something you didn’t even realize you were missing: a sense of peace, of belonging, of knowing that right here, in this moment, you are exactly where you’re meant to be.

[dawnbreakerluna]

Here's my biggest complaint: I think Infold missed a huge opportunity by not making Love & Deepspace an action, open-world RPG game compared to a mobile otome game. While I do understand the safer route it takes and how it can appeal to a certain audience for the better of profit and accessible marketing, it's becoming a bit overwhelming with how broad the lore is becoming and how the storytelling is incredibly multilayered. And while I'm always for the method of irregular storytelling to leave more mystery and opening room for interpretation / discussion with other players, I think there is only so much that Infold can actually maintain on a mobile platform.

I've spoken countlessly about how L&DS shares elements similar to that of the modern Final Fantasy games and Devil May Cry (particularly DMC5 since it's the most recent). While I initially thought this was just for the character design and the design of the combat system, I'm soon realizing that the amount of theories I see about the story are beginning to venture towards a bigger platform.

I think even Infold themselves is realizing this big oopsie they did because I feel like after the big release of Sylus's debut, there's beginning to feel like a strong lack of focus and care towards the main story. I thought Zayne's story branch was going to be bigger than it was when the trailer dropped... only to feel really underwhelmed at the end? I've restrained myself from playing Rafayel's latest branch for this reason because I don't feel as excited like I used to and I'm unsure of what I'm going to get since Infold's lost my trust as they're in a cash-grab cow era at the moment!

But in truth, if Infold isn't going to change this up soon, the game is just going to get boring. I think player burnout is more prevalent now because of the overwhelming amount of content and the announcement of a new quad banner. I'm not the only player who is being vulnerable about the difficulties of being f2p compared to those who can afford pulling for every banner and spending beyond $1k on this game.

That's the thing, as well. The controversial thing I believe is that Infold would've made the same profit, if not more, by making L&DS an RPG. It would still have the same effect, and fans would still be making the same kind of lewd content. You think hack-and-slash games are free from the perverted freaks of fandom? Absolutely not, LMAO. Here's an example of how this could've gone:

The main story as the open world exploration, as the main quest the player can engage in. MC is still customizable entirely in the functions it has now, but if for an open-world RPG, I would suggest adding the option for more diverse body types. I would love to see the Hunter HQ and Linkon City as open spaces to walk around and explore. Imagine how sick the N109 Zone would look.

There can be MULTIPLE ways to attain the Memories. In my opinion, with this format, all the perma-banner Memories are attainable. You can get Memories by completing boss fights, side quests, or unlocking them by doing secret quests. It's like basic game achievements. As for the limited Memories, Infold could STILL program codes for temporary events, collabs, DLCs, etc. Ex. Final Fantasy 15 did this for something related to Assassin's Creed, and by participating in that event, you would unlock the event outfits permanently for the whole party. THAT is how it should be for the limited Memories. By completing the event's tasks (can be with any LI of choice), you unlock the Memories, the outfits, and so on. If players want the limited event content after, they can and should be purchased with IN-GAME CURRENCY.

Abyssal Chaos can still be a thing with the same reward system. This would be a great way to complete challenges and encourage people to improve their combat play style. However, there could be more missions beyond Tobias' story to complete. More levels of difficulty too, that way the challenges are bigger and it gives people ample time to actually prepare if they're trying to 100% everything even on the hardest difficulty.

The additional base game outfits that are perma-available to unlock with Chocolates, etc. should be able to be unlocked with leveling up your character. No payments. I said what I said.

Oh, also, conclusively, the main story would be finished. It's just that it would take a VERY long time to complete the game and on top of wanting to get all the achievements, it would take you even longer. I know certain people prefer a canon ending, but this type of game and story format would benefit from a choose-your-own-path type of path. I'm not even sorry, LMAO. Plenty of games in this format have done this, and once again, it gives you more incentive to play the game more if you want to achieve all four endings with each LI or something. You'll be fine, you'll live!

[maybefae]

Week Ahead: 11/11-11/17/2024

Pile 1 - Pile 2 - Pile 3

Remember, this is a general reading and it may not resonate for everyone or completely. Tarot is a tool to help guide but you are responsible for your actions and life, you choose your path.

Tips!

Pile 1

Tarot: The Hanged Man (Sacrifice), The Star (The Veil), Eight of Swords, Queen of Pentacles, The Fool (Death), Three of Cups, The Hermit (The Cosmic Tree), Strength (The Orbs)

Oracle: The Pathless, The Priest

Hello, my loves. Has the past week been a little tiring? Overwhelming? This week probably won’t be as crazy but there is a feeling of numbness. Maybe just lost. It feels as if you are just floating through time and space at the moment because of uncertainty towards the future. You’ve been thrust into a whole new chapter without any preparation and without any knowledge of it happening. And now, it feels like you have to sacrifice the past in someway, or it was sacrificed for you. You were grabbed by the arms and yanked away from the past. 

I believe that your only symbol of hope at the moment are your friends. The ones closest to you or at least a community. They are the only ones grounding you to reality. 

If you need to stay to yourself, enter hermit mode, for a little but until there’s a little clarity, it’s okay to do so. Just don’t let yourself be a hermit forever because that will cause more isolation and a feeling of being lost than you already have. 

You’re working very hard and I think you can only trust yourself with that at the moment. Maybe it’s for a distraction for a little bit, maybe it’s for future comfort. But you’re persevering. You’re being very strong despite the uncertainty. And maybe this is just what you have to do right now to navigate a lack of direction. Follow your instincts because they will never lead you astray. I think you’re doing the right thing at the moment, if you needed that comfort. 

Take things slow, one step at a time. And divulge in something you love to do. Self-care in any form will be good.

Pile 2

Tarot: Page of Swords, Three of Pentacles, Ace of Swords, Ten of Cups, Six of Cups, Page of Wands, Four of Wands, Ace of Pentacles, Six of Swords, Eight of Pentacles 

Oracle: The Champion, The Adventurer, The Spymaster

Before I pulled any cards, I heard, “It’s gonna be okay.” It was in a very warm and comforting female voice. It’s like a mother, in her purest form, comforting you. 

There is a lot of messages happening at once but I was being very organized when getting the cards out. I heard “keep your cards close” and “ducks in a row.” There could be a level of secrecy with something you’re organizing. And I think you are organizing this project with others/friends.

Now I heard, “loudmouth.” You’re being vocal about something and it feels like you feel an obligation to lead something. And this could be revolving around taking care of others in a time of need. I’m getting the sense of building a strong foundation and community. A safe haven. This could be people with a like-mindedness to you. I’m getting a vision of Woodstock ‘69 where people were taking care of each other and there was a kitchen where people from outside brought food to help when things got a little dire at the festival. You could be the one at the beginning saying it’s gonna be okay.

Back to the project you’re organizing. You could be getting a bunch of friends together so you all can live under one roof, save money. I don’t know there’s a big focus on help and community and minimizing a struggle here. You’re working really hard at it and trying anything you can to make things work. 

Pile 3

Tarot: Ace of Swords, Six of Wands, Two of Pentacles, Five of Wands, Knight of Pentacles, Queen of Cups, Ace of Pentacles, Seven of Pentacles, Four of Wands (reversed), King of Swords(back of deck)

Oracle: The Wise One, The Sentinel, The Assassin

I just want to say that your pile confused me the most. I also Wanna say that you are gonna be going at something really aggressively and quickly. The deck kept digging into my fingers, pinching me, and the cards would shoot out and hit something on my desk to the point of making a noise.

I had to pull for cards twice but the King of Swords remained here.

You could be going after something very passionately/aggressively. But I think it’s out of pure desperation and greed. Maybe even jealousy and pride. 

Now, I don’t like doing general love readings but I do get a sense that this could be a person. And I don’t think it's out of pure intentions. This feels like someone you just wanna lay claim over so no one else can have them. There is very prideful and jealous energy. This endeavour will be fruitless. The person you want does not have the same feelings for you and may honestly see you as a “mean girl/person.” Or maybe you were just very certain they had feelings for you and you gained a lot of courage to say something only to be let down.

For those of you who actually like this person and have just been working the courage up to say something, I think it’s more of a teaching in courage. I think you will have success when it comes to your confidence because you had the courage to say something. This person probably won’t have the same feelings but they do recognize your courage and respect you for that. They won’t be mean about turning your advances down, they will be respectful and nice. But there won’t be anything that comes to fruition between the both of you.

Decks Used: White Numen Tarot: A Sacred Animal Tarot Deck by AlbaBG, Cosma Visions Oracle by James R. Eads, Ophida Rosa Tarot by Leila and Olive, The Citadel: A Fantasy Oracle by Fez Inkwright Dividers: @inklore

[miharuki]

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕳𝖎𝖇𝖎𝖓𝖔 𝕭𝖗𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖘

Soshiro has always found you intriguing since the moment you took the test to join the Defense Force. Your combat skills were surprisingly low—lower than anyone else’s in the exam. Even so, you passed, just like he did. He tried to approach you, start a conversation, but you didn’t seem as talkative as the others. However, he noticed that with Captain Mina, you laughed, joked, and even made jokes. He wondered if you were in the Defense Force just because of your friendship with Mina. After all, you weren’t good at long-range combat, and your strength seemed weaker than most. Still, something about you was intriguing.

This mystery deepened during your first mission together. He saw, alone, you destroy a huge kaiju—a feat that normally required a platoon leader. The skill you demonstrated at that moment confused him. When he tried to talk about it, you remained closed off, keeping all your secrets to yourself. With each failed attempt at communication, Soshiro’s curiosity only grew, until he realized he had become attached to you.

When he was promoted to vice-captain, he thought this would bring him closer to you. He thought perhaps it was his position that made you not open up to him, but nothing changed. Your coldness and distance remained, until the arrival of the new soldiers, including Kafka Hibino. Suddenly, you started opening up, talking to Kafka in a way you never did with Soshiro. A strange feeling overwhelmed him. He didn’t like seeing you together. The more you grew closer to Kafka, the more he gave the new soldier tasks, trying to keep him busy. He didn’t like it at all.

Then came the revelation: Kafka was Kaiju No. 8. When he was taken, you seemed to lose your spark. Soshiro saw it, felt the sadness radiating from you, and it irritated him. Why care so much about Kafka? He was a kaiju. Even though he was human, he was a monster.

Over time, he noticed that despite the pain, you continued to train, to evolve. It was as if your combat skills, once weaker, were now on par with the soldiers. Maybe even reaching the level of a platoon leader, but the sadness from Kafka’s absence seemed to be something unchangeable. Soshiro tried to get closer, to be there for you, but you kept your distance.

When he found out the final result of Kafka’s fate, his death, Soshiro noticed the change in you. The distance and emptiness grew even more, while you stopped eating, taking care of yourself. The situation became so dire that Soshiro decided to seek answers from Captain Mina.

When Soshiro arrived at Mina’s office, she looked at him seriously and thoughtfully, as if weighing what she was about to reveal. He felt a shiver of nervousness. She began:

“Soshiro, there’s something I think you need to know.”

He furrowed his brow, a bit confused. Was she going to talk about something related to the previous mission, when he had saved you both from being swallowed by a kaiju? He hoped so.

“Lately, I’ve noticed you trying to get close to someone in particular… (Your Name),” she continued, carefully choosing her words. “And I thought I should tell you. The reason (Your Name) is so shaken is because their brother… has just been executed. That brother was Kafka Hibino. (Your Name) Hibino.”

Soshiro felt his heart race, his eyes widening in shock. “Kafka was… their brother?”

Mina nodded. “That’s right. That’s why I thought you should know. (Your Name) told me that, from the beginning, you’ve tried to get close, tried to be friendly, but maybe this is the reason for their distance.”

Soshiro took a moment to process everything, the revelation about Kafka being their sibling shedding new light on every interaction he had with you. The truth caught him by surprise, but at the same time, it intensified his desire to be there for you, now more than ever.

“Captain… if you don’t mind, where are they now?”

Mina replied firmly, but with a gentle look. “If you want to see them, they’re on the roof of the headquarters right now.”

Soshiro simply thanked her with a nod, leaving the room and heading straight to meet you. When he saw you, you were facing away, with a bowl of food beside you. He called your name:

“(Your Name)?”

You slowly turned around, your face weary, marked by tears. He took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. Approaching slowly, Soshiro placed a hand on your head and murmured:

“I heard what happened… I’m so sorry about your brother. I can’t even imagine the pain you’re feeling.”

You looked away, and Soshiro stepped closer. “But know that I’m here,” he said, his voice soft and full of sincerity.

Without thinking much, you hugged him, and he returned the embrace, listening to your sobs. Soshiro, with his heart aching, whispered:

“You don’t have to go through this alone. Let me be here for you.”

But what he didn’t know was that you had already devised a plan for revenge, a way to repay every drop of suffering that had been caused to your brother. What you also didn’t know was that from that moment on, Soshiro wouldn’t let you escape. He would stay by your side, no matter what it took.

[dancingintherainwithchifuyu]

Ichiji Vinsmoke x Fem Reader

Part 1

Chapter 2

About:In a kingdom where marriage is power, a princess finds herself at the center of a political scheme. When the ambitious Vinsmoke family arrives, intent on winning her hand to secure an alliance, each of the brothers vies for her favor. But it’s the stoic Ichiji who catches her attention—despite his cold demeanor and sense of duty.

Warnings:Arranged/Forced Marriage,Mild Violence, Conflict, Emotional Manipulation,Slow-Burn Romance,Toxic Family Dynamics,Class and Social Hierarchy

Tags: @fic-dumpster @omi-replies @firstdivisiongirl @kazenomegaminowanpisu @livid-basket

As (Y/N) steps back into the ornate ballroom, she takes a calming breath, determined to shake off the lingering nerves from earlier. The lights gleam off her elegant gown, making her look radiant, and it doesn’t take long for several noblemen to notice her arrival. Almost instantly, a small circle of suitors surrounds her, each one vying for her attention with polite, eager smiles and well-rehearsed compliments.

"Princess," begins one of the noblemen with a confident grin, bowing gracefully. "Your reputation precedes you. I’ve heard tales of your kindness and intelligence—qualities rare in such beauty. It would be my honor to make your acquaintance." His words are polished, yet his eyes hold a spark of ambition.

Another man, slightly younger but equally bold, quickly steps in. "Princess, did I mention I was recently appointed as captain of my father’s fleet? A mere task, of course, but one that I’ve accepted with great pride. Perhaps one day, you would grace us with your presence aboard one of my ships?" He says, flashing her a hopeful smile.

(Y/N) offers a polite nod, listening to each introduction with practiced grace. Her eyes flit between the suitors as they each take turns boasting of their achievements. One boasts of his family’s wealth, another of his talents in the arts, and yet another—bolder than the rest—leans close and promises a life of adventure beyond the palace walls.

Though she’s outwardly calm, (Y/N) can’t help but feel the pressure of their attentions building. Each man’s voice blurs with the next, the constant flattery and boasts becoming overwhelming. Her smile, however, remains as poised as ever, her laughter soft and practiced. Despite their charm, each compliment and attempt to win her over seems hollow, lacking the sincerity she yearns for.

One young lord, bold and beaming, steps up first and offers his hand with a practiced flourish. "Princess, might I have the honor of the next dance?" His voice is confident, and he looks at her as though already convinced of her acceptance.

Before (Y/N) can respond, another nobleman quickly interjects. "Forgive me, Your Highness, but I believe I asked first," he insists, stepping in front of the other man and bowing with a polite yet determined smile. "A lady of your grace deserves only the finest company."

Undeterred, a third suitor—a taller, older man with a charismatic smile—leans in and speaks, his voice smooth. "Surely, Princess, you would enjoy a dance with a man who can offer you both comfort and adventure." His hand lightly brushes her arm, causing her to step back, a bit taken aback by his forwardness.

(Y/N) offers a soft smile, keeping her composure, though her eyes dart around, feeling the crowd of suitors closing in. Their voices blend as each one tries to outdo the other, some bragging about their families' wealth and influence, others describing their supposed bravery on the battlefield or their skill in the arts. Their compliments, though flattering, feel overwhelming in their intensity.

One of the suitors, apparently more forward than the rest, dares to step close enough to reach for her hand. "Princess," he murmurs, his tone dripping with charm, "surely you wouldn’t deny a man his one chance at happiness tonight?" His words are so exaggerated that, despite herself, she nearly laughs.

"Please, gentlemen, one at a time," she says softly, her tone polite but firm, trying to steady the situation. But her plea goes largely ignored as they continue to call out, each man desperate to capture her attention.

Suddenly, the atmosphere shifts, and the murmur of the ballroom falls to a hushed silence.

Entering the room with an unmistakable air of command are the Vinsmoke brothers—Ichiji, Niji, and Yonji. Dressed in their formal attire, they cut a striking presence, each of them bearing the same unmistakable blend of confidence and authority that immediately puts the other suitors on edge.

The forward suitor who had reached for (Y/N)'s hand retracts it instantly, looking as though he’s been caught in some forbidden act. One by one, the others shuffle backward, some of them clearing their throats awkwardly, their initial confidence waning as they cast wary glances at the infamous trio.

Niji, with his usual smirk, seems more amused than anything, his gaze shifting between (Y/N) and her flustered suitors. "Well, well. Seems the Princess has quite the crowd tonight," he remarks, his tone teasing.

Yonji chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest, his green eyes gleaming with mischief. "I can see why. But shouldn’t we have the chance to make her acquaintance first?"

Ichiji, ever composed and reserved, steps forward, his cool gaze fixed on (Y/N). He dips his head slightly in greeting, his voice steady and confident. "Princess, we’d be honored to escort you this evening." Though his words are polite, the faint edge in his tone makes it clear that this isn’t a mere suggestion.

The other suitors, already unnerved, take the cue and disperse, leaving the Princess alone with the Vinsmoke brothers. The crowd's murmurs fill the room again, but the once-overwhelming presence of admirers has melted away in the wake of the Vinsmokes’ intimidating aura.

Niji steps closer to (Y/N), offering a playful grin. "My apologies for interrupting your… conversation, Princess," he says with a half-bow, clearly reveling in the discomfort he’s caused among the other men. "Though I’d say we’re better company, wouldn’t you agree?"

Before she can respond, Yonji chimes in, his voice laced with a hint of mischief. "And if you’re looking for a dance partner, I’d be happy to volunteer. I may not be a poet, but I can keep up on the dance floor."

Ichiji remains silent, observing her reaction with his usual stoic expression, though his piercing gaze doesn’t leave her. He doesn’t need to speak to make his presence felt, and (Y/N) finds herself momentarily caught in his intense stare.

For a moment, (Y/N) feels both a sense of relief and renewed nervousness in their company. The Vinsmokes, though intimidating, are at least straightforward. And while their motives might be unclear, the attention of the three brothers is certainly something she can’t ignore.

“Princess,” Ichiji greets her, his voice as calm as his stare is piercing. He offers a slight bow, just enough to satisfy decorum. “Ichiji Vinsmoke of the Germa Kingdom.” His tone holds a subtle authority, his posture perfectly poised. He’s careful, almost too careful, as he appraises her.

Before (Y/N) can respond, the blonde beside him steps in. “Niji Vinsmoke,” he says smoothly, flashing a smirk as he bows. “And you must be the enchanting princess we’ve heard so much about.” His eyes flick over her in open appraisal, and there's a glint in them that she can’t quite read—amusement or calculation, perhaps. “Rumors don’t do you justice.”

Finally, the youngest of the three, with wild green hair, offers a brief, almost careless nod. “Yonji. Pleasure to meet you.” His grin is mischievous, bordering on challenging, as if he’s daring her to see past his casual demeanor.

(Y/N) gives a small, polite smile, though her gaze darts between the three of them. She’s heard stories—whispers of Germa’s military prowess, their calculated strength, and the Vinsmoke brothers’ formidable reputation. But in person, they are both more charming and intimidating than she expected.

Ichiji speaks first, his words blunt and efficient. “I imagine you’re familiar with our kingdom’s legacy?” he asks. “The Germa Kingdom has always prioritized strength and loyalty.”

“Yes, I’ve heard some things…” (Y/N) replies, careful with her words. “The tales are… unique.” She watches their reactions closely, not missing the brief exchange of glances between the brothers.

“Ah, but tales hardly capture the reality,” Niji cuts in with a smooth laugh. “They make us sound ruthless. But we’re much more… versatile.” He smirks, almost as if he’s enjoying her curiosity. “Strength and strategy are essential, but we also understand the importance of alliances.” He leans closer, adding in a lower voice, “And charming the right people.”

(Y/N) feels a blush creeping up her cheeks but holds her ground, feeling the weight of their presence. She turns to Yonji, who’s watching her with a grin. “Is that what Germa values, then? Alliances and strength?” she asks, only half-joking.

“Among other things,” Yonji replies, glancing around the room as if the whole place bores him. “Let’s just say we prefer getting what we want.” His tone is playful, yet there's an edge to it that makes her pause. “Besides, it’s more about respect. When you have it, most obstacles… disappear.”

Ichiji speaks again, his tone more measured, almost as if he’s trying to soften his brothers’ bluntness. “We’re here as allies, Princess, to support your kingdom’s goals. Germa may have its methods, but we value loyalty above all.” His gaze on her is intense, as though weighing her response carefully.

Reiju, still standing nearby, finally joins them. “They’re showing off,” she says with a small smile, playfully rolling her eyes at her brothers. “Don’t mind them. We’re not all as… direct.”

(Y/N) laughs, grateful for Reiju’s warmth, though she’s intrigued by what she’s learned. The Vinsmokes are clearly as formidable as the rumors claimed, but beneath the bravado, she senses a deeper motive. She has a feeling this is just the beginning—and that the Vinsmoke family has plans far beyond simple alliances.

As the music swells, Niji extends his hand. “Would you honor me with the next dance, Princess?” He flashes another smirk, and though (Y/N) hesitates for a moment, she accepts, unsure of what to expect.

As they move to the center of the ballroom, she glances back, catching Ichiji’s stoic expression, Yonji’s sly grin, and Reiju’s gentle nod. The game has only just begun, and (Y/N) realizes she’s now in the center of it, under the watchful eyes of Germa’s most powerful family.

The sound of the waltz fills the air, the elegant rhythm echoing across the ballroom. Reiju steps into the shadowed alcove, her eyes immediately locking onto the swirling figures of her brothers on the dance floor. Her gaze softens when she sees Niji leading (Y/N) through the steps of the dance. A small smile tugs at the corner of her lips, though it remains controlled—calm.

Beside her, Ichiji stands with his usual stoic expression, though his eyes follow the pair just as intently. Yonji leans casually against the wall, his arms crossed, clearly intrigued by the unfolding moment.

"She's certainly handling Niji well," Reiju murmurs, her tone light, but with an edge of approval.

Ichiji doesn’t respond immediately, his focus unwavering. His lips are set in their usual firm line, but there’s a subtle flicker in his gaze. "She’s more composed than I expected."

"She seems to know how to handle herself in the face of attention," Yonji adds with a teasing smirk. "Though, Niji’s not the easiest dance partner to manage."

Reiju chuckles softly, though there's a glint of concern in her eyes. "Yes, but she’s holding her own. There’s something about her, isn’t there?"

Ichiji lets out a quiet hum of agreement, his expression unreadable. "She’s different," he says, his voice quieter now, as if he’s mulling over the words carefully. "It’s more than her beauty. There’s an… ease about her."

Yonji looks between his siblings, raising an eyebrow. "You’re starting to sound like you care, Ichiji. Are you already charmed?" His voice is playful, though there's a hint of curiosity underneath the teasing.

Ichiji doesn’t answer right away, but his gaze doesn’t leave (Y/N), who’s laughing softly at something Niji said. The way she moves, the way she smiles—it’s something new to him. Something he didn’t expect from someone raised in such a different environment.

Reiju watches them quietly for a moment before stepping forward slightly, her heels clicking softly against the marble floor as she turns to her brothers. "I hope you aren’t making her too uncomfortable. She’s still adjusting, and we’ve been thrust into this situation quickly."

Yonji tilts his head, a smirk playing on his lips. "Don’t worry, Reiju. Niji knows what he’s doing."

Reiju gives a small nod, her gaze shifting back to (Y/N) as the dance comes to an end. She watches (Y/N) smile at Niji, clearly enjoying herself despite the tension of the evening. Reiju’s heart stirs for a moment—this is her family’s legacy they’re talking about. This is a marriage that could secure Germa’s future. But she also knows how much her brothers need this—how much they need to learn to navigate their new roles.

As the song comes to a close, (Y/N) gracefully separates from Niji, her smile lighting up the room. She looks around briefly before her eyes find Reiju, and without hesitation, she walks toward her. There’s an undeniable warmth to the way she moves, a refreshing contrast to the cold grandeur of Germa.

Reiju’s expression softens when (Y/N) approaches, her eyes glimmering with an almost maternal kindness. As she stands before her, Reiju lets out a small, reassuring breath. "I see you’ve met my brothers," she says, her voice gentle and soothing, as though offering (Y/N) a safe space amidst the overwhelming attention.

(Y/N) nods, a small laugh escaping her lips. "Yes, they’ve been very... attentive."

Reiju chuckles lightly, offering a knowing smile. "They do have a way of making their presence known. But don’t let them overwhelm you. They mean well."

(Y/N) smiles warmly, though there’s a glimmer of uncertainty in her eyes. "I’m just trying to keep up."

"You’re doing just fine," Reiju says, her tone sincere, her eyes full of genuine warmth. "Don’t be afraid to take things at your own pace. No one here will fault you for that."

As Reiju speaks, her brothers continue to watch from a distance, their eyes shifting between (Y/N) and each other. There’s an understanding forming between them, though it remains unspoken—this alliance is more than just a political one. It’s a new beginning, one that will change everything.

But for now, (Y/N) stands beside Reiju, a small smile gracing her lips, the soft and warm reassurance from the woman before her helping to ground her in this chaotic world.

The music continues to play in the background, a gentle waltz that lulls the room into a state of comfort. As the evening progresses, (Y/N) finds herself standing with the Vinsmoke siblings, the weight of her new life settling on her shoulders. She had heard so many rumors about them—how cold and distant they were, how they were nothing more than tools of their father’s will. Yet, as she stands here with them, they don’t seem like the villains the rumors painted them to be.

Instead, they seem... normal. Almost.

Niji stands at the edge of the group, smiling at her with that usual charming grin. Ichiji, as ever, stands with his arms crossed, his stern face giving away little of his thoughts. Yonji is leaning casually against a pillar, his mischievous smile never leaving his face. Reiju, with her calm grace, stands nearby, but her eyes are alert, watching the room carefully. The tension between them is subtle but present—like an invisible thread that binds them together, but each sibling in their own way.

(Y/N) takes a small step forward, her voice soft but warm as she smiles at them. "It’s nice to finally speak to all of you properly. I’ve heard so many rumors, you know," she says, her tone playful. "About how dangerous and cold the Vinsmokes are."

She pauses for a moment, then adds with a twinkle in her eyes, "But you don’t seem so bad to me."

The comment lingers in the air, and for a brief moment, the siblings exchange glances, all of them a little taken aback by her directness.

Niji is the first to laugh, a smooth chuckle that causes the others to relax just a little. "You have quite the courage, don’t you? Most people are too afraid to even approach us after hearing those rumors."

(Y/N) tilts her head, her smile never faltering. "Well, I think rumors are just that—rumors. They don’t always tell the full story." Her gaze moves from Niji to Ichiji. "You all seem... different. More... human, I guess?"

There’s a small pause, and then Reiju’s soft laugh fills the space. "Human, you say? You’re the first to ever say that. Most just see us as extensions of our father’s ambitions."

"Which, in some ways, we are," Ichiji’s deep voice chimes in, his tone quiet and thoughtful. "But we're also individuals. We have our own paths to walk." He looks at (Y/N), his eyes softer than she expects. "Though not many people see that. They only see the bloodline."

(Y/N) nods, a spark of understanding flashing in her eyes. "I can understand that. It must be frustrating, having people judge you before they even meet you."

Yonji grins, his arms still crossed as he watches her with a knowing expression. "You’re not like the others, are you? You don’t seem intimidated by us at all." He steps closer, his voice teasing. "You don’t even flinch when I smile."

Her lips curve up into a playful smile of her own. "I think your smile’s nice, Yonji," she says lightly, making him chuckle. "But really, I just think we’re all human, aren’t we? We all have our strengths and weaknesses, but that doesn’t mean we should be defined by one thing alone."

There’s a brief silence after her words, the siblings exchanging another round of looks, and Reiju’s expression softens just slightly. "You’re an interesting one, (Y/N). You have a way of making others feel... at ease."

(Y/N) shrugs, her hands clasped in front of her. "I just ask questions. Like, how was your journey here? I hope you didn’t run into any trouble on the way."

Ichiji tilts his head slightly, clearly surprised by her thoughtfulness. "It was uneventful. Our trip here wasn’t anything special. But it’s not often that someone asks about the journey itself. Most just want to know our plans or how we’ll impact the kingdom."

"I suppose everyone is just trying to make sure they’re on the winning side," (Y/N) says, her voice thoughtful. "But I think it’s good to focus on the little things too. Like... getting to know the people you’ll be living with."

Yonji raises an eyebrow, a sly grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "You think we’re the type to sit around and chat about the little things? You're in for a surprise. But I can’t say I’m not intrigued by your perspective."

Niji leans in slightly, giving her a wink. "You might be onto something. We don’t often get asked about the simple things, like how our travels were. People usually want to know about our power or our... abilities."

"Well, you’re more than just your abilities," (Y/N) responds lightly. "I’m sure there’s more to you all than what’s just on the surface."

For a moment, the siblings seem almost speechless. Niji opens his mouth, but before he can speak, Reiju gently intervenes, her voice smooth but pointed. "It’s true. People tend to focus on what’s most visible. But (Y/N), you’re different. You’re not intimidated by what you’ve heard. You want to understand who we are."

(Y/N) smiles, a little sheepishly now. "I just... wanted to talk to you all. You’re not like the rumors, and that’s something I wanted to see for myself."

There’s a soft hum of silence, the room around them seeming to slow down as the four siblings look at (Y/N) in a different light. Reiju’s eyes, usually so calculating and guarded, soften with something like approval. Niji’s usual playful expression remains, but there’s a flicker of something deeper in his gaze. Yonji’s teasing smile is still there, but it’s gentler now, as if he’s been disarmed by her earnestness. And Ichiji, ever the stoic one, finds himself nodding slightly, though he says nothing.

"Well," Reiju says, her voice gentle yet firm, "I believe you’ve earned yourself a much more interesting conversation than you bargained for."

(Y/N) grins. "I’m just glad to finally talk to people who aren’t judging me right off the bat."

The conversation flows from there, the siblings no longer seeing her as just the princess they need to win over or manipulate. She’s a person—a person who is willing to see beyond the surface and ask the questions they’ve been too used to ignoring.

As the night carries on, (Y/N) finds herself feeling more at ease, the weight of her new world not quite so heavy on her shoulders. There’s something about being in the presence of these siblings, despite their reputation, that feels oddly comforting. And for the first time since her arrival, she can’t help but wonder if, maybe, this marriage might not be the prison she feared it would be.

The ballroom is full of whispered conversations, the sound of soft laughter and polite clinking of glasses filling the air. As (Y/N) converses with the Vinsmoke siblings, she remains blissfully unaware of the eyes watching her. She’s too focused on keeping the conversation going, on being warm and inviting. Her smile never falters, her tone never drops, as she asks them about their travels, about their lives, about everything and nothing all at once.

But there are others in the room, too—the nobility who look at her with calculating eyes, their whispers carried on the breeze like poisoned darts.

“I heard she’s too soft for this kingdom,” one woman says with a dismissive flick of her wrist. "She’ll never last long. Her kindness will be her downfall. She’s too naïve to understand the weight of what she's stepped into."

“I agree,” another woman murmurs, her voice dripping with malice. "A kingdom like this... it’s not a place for someone like her. She's probably too busy playing the innocent princess, but we all know it’s a game to win their hearts. She’ll be an easy target."

Their laughter is quiet but venomous, each word a little cut aimed at the heart of (Y/N). They’re sure she won’t hear it, but Reiju does. She’s standing not far off, her attention split between her brothers and the gossiping group of noblewomen. Her expression hardens as she listens to the cruel words being spoken about (Y/N).

The princess, unaware of the whispers, continues talking, smiling as she listens to Ichiji explain the finer details of his most recent mission. But Reiju’s eyes narrow, a flicker of something dark behind them. She crosses the room effortlessly, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floors, her presence commanding the attention of those nearby.

She approaches the group of noblewomen, who immediately fall silent when they notice her. Reiju’s gaze is cold, and her smile sharp, her demeanor one that could freeze the very air around her. She tilts her head, voice sweet but with an edge that makes the women uneasy.

“Such interesting things I overheard,” Reiju says, her tone laced with mock sweetness. “I didn’t know our dear princess was a subject of such... concern.”

The women stiffen, suddenly aware that they’ve been caught in their own cruelty. One of them, a particularly haughty noblewoman with an elaborate headdress, attempts to laugh it off. “Oh, Lady Reiju, we were only discussing—”

“I know exactly what you were discussing,” Reiju interrupts, her smile widening just a fraction. “And I must say, it’s very brave of you to gossip about someone you barely know. Especially when you have no idea what they’re truly capable of.” She steps closer, the temperature in the room dropping with each step. “Perhaps you should remember your place, ladies. (Y/N) is not someone you should be speaking about so flippantly.”

She doesn’t need to raise her voice or make a scene. Her presence alone is enough to make the women shrink under her gaze. They exchange uneasy glances, and for a moment, the room feels smaller.

“You know,” Reiju continues, her voice dripping with a false sweetness, “I might just tell (Y/N) exactly how concerned you all are about her. It would be a shame to see such friendly advice go to waste.” Her eyes flick to each woman in turn, her gaze cutting like a blade. "But, of course, if you’d prefer to keep this... private, I’m sure we can all pretend this never happened.”

The noblewomen exchange hurried looks, their posture straightening as they attempt to salvage what little dignity they have left. “Of course, Lady Reiju. We apologize for our words,” one of them stammers, her eyes averted.

Reiju’s smile doesn’t falter. She’s not done yet.

“It’s unfortunate,” she says, voice laced with cold amusement, “how quick people are to judge others, especially when they think no one is listening.” Her gaze sweeps over the women again, her eyes narrowing with a dangerous glint. “I’d suggest you take a closer look at (Y/N) before you pass any more judgment. You never know who might be watching.”

Without waiting for a response, Reiju turns on her heel and walks away, her posture as regal as ever, leaving the women to stew in their shame.

As she returns to the corner where (Y/N) stands, the princess is still deep in conversation with Ichiji, her smile as radiant as ever. Reiju watches her for a moment before approaching, a quiet sigh escaping her lips.

She steps up beside her, her tone gentle. “I see you’ve been making quite the impression on my brothers,” she says, her voice carrying a quiet amusement. "But be careful. Not everyone here has the best intentions."

(Y/N) turns to her, unaware of the gossip that had just occurred. “Oh? What do you mean?”

Reiju’s gaze softens, and she places a hand on (Y/N)’s shoulder, a surprising gesture of protectiveness. “People like to talk, especially about those they don’t understand. But don’t let it get to you.” She gives a small, reassuring smile. "I know my brothers and I may seem... intimidating. But not all of us are as cold as people make us out to be."

(Y/N) looks at her with gratitude in her eyes, completely unaware of the conversation that had just taken place. “Thank you, Reiju. I know they’ve probably said things about me... but I just don’t think it’s worth worrying over. If I can be kind to someone, that’s all I need.”

Reiju’s eyes flicker with something like admiration, though her expression remains carefully neutral. “You’re different,” she says softly, her voice almost a whisper. “And that’s not always a good thing in this kingdom. But maybe that’s exactly what it needs.”

The conversation fades into the background, the noise of the ballroom becoming a distant hum. Reiju watches as (Y/N)’s smile never falters, and despite the sharp words of the other women, it’s clear that the princess remains steadfast in her belief that kindness could change the world.

The gentle morning light filters through the curtains, and (Y/N) stirs in bed, her dreams fading into the soft sounds of footsteps approaching. A light knock taps at her door, and three of her trusted maids;Mira, Elise, and Annabelle enter, each carrying a small tray filled with breakfast delights.

Elise, setting a tray on her bedside table “Good morning, my lady! We didn’t mean to wake you too early, but we thought you might need a little extra energy today.”

Mira, grinning mischievously as she places a steaming pot of tea on the table: “Besides, we’ve got so much to tell you!”

(Y/N), still nestled in her blankets, sits up with a sleepy smile, blinking at the trays laden with fresh pastries, fruit, and a delicate, frothy tea. She accepts a warm cup from Annabelle, who’s already giggling with excitement.

“You’ll want to hear this, my lady! I’ve never seen anything like it—so many suitors, here all for you! Some have been waiting since dawn!” Annabelle spoke sitting next to her.

(Y/N), chuckling and rubbing her eyes: “Since dawn? That’s… impressive, I suppose.”

Elise said “Impressive, indeed! But wait until you hear about last night! The ballroom was still buzzing long after you left. And—” she lowers her voice, leaning in conspiratorially, “—there was quite a bit of talk about you and the Vinsmoke family.”

Mira raises her eyebrows, offering a plate of delicate pastries as she speaks. “Everyone was speculating, my lady! There were whispers that the Vinsmoke sons were rather taken with you. Especially the eldest… a lot of the young noble ladies seemed quite put out by it.”

(Y/N) laughs softly, breaking off a piece of a flaky croissant and popping it into her mouth.

(Y/N): “Oh, dear. I didn’t mean to cause any drama.”

Annabelle, waving a hand dismissively: “Oh, it wasn’t you causing it, my lady. It was them!” She smirks, nudging Elise. “I heard one of the ladies say they’d ‘never seen Ichiji look so… attentive.’”

Elise giggles, passing (Y/N) a plate with fresh berries. “And Niji didn’t seem to mind dancing with you at all! The way he kept close was… well, very bold.”

Mira, pouring tea with a smile: “And then there’s Yonji, of course—he was following you around with a grin like a puppy. I don’t think I’ve seen him take such interest in anyone before.”

(Y/N) blushes, sipping her tea to hide her smile. She’s used to the girls’ chatter, but the genuine excitement in their voices makes her feel a mixture of flattery and amusement.

Annabelle, sitting beside her on the bed as if they’re sharing secrets: “And now, after such a grand entrance with the Vinsmokes, you have a line of suitors downstairs waiting for you. Some even brought gifts—flowers, silks, even a few precious gems!”

Elise, rolling her eyes playfully: “Oh, but some of them looked like they were just trying to outdo each other. One even asked if you’d be interested in falconry—his prized sport, apparently. As if a princess has time for such things!”

(Y/N) laughs, the image of herself with a falcon perched on her arm seeming a bit ridiculous. The maids join in, their giggles filling the room as they continue to primp and prepare her for the day.

Mira, brushing out (Y/N)’s hair carefully “I suppose they’ll all be trying to impress you, but honestly, my lady, none of them seem half as interesting as those Vinsmokes.”

Annabelle spoke up excitedly “Oh, you could see it last night, couldn’t you? Each of them seemed to have their own way of trying to charm you.”

(Y/N), thoughtful but amused “They were… different than I expected, I’ll admit. I thought they’d be so distant, with all those rumors about them, but they seemed… well, more human than I expected.”

Elise, gently pinning a few hair strands back with pearls “Perhaps they felt the same about you, my lady. It’s not every day they meet someone who isn’t intimidated by their reputation.”

The other maids nod in agreement, adjusting (Y/N)’s gown and adding delicate jewelry to complete her look. They continue to talk, sharing little anecdotes and thoughts about the suitors below, some overly eager, others almost comically trying to seem dashing.

Annabelle, smiling as she hands (Y/N) a mirror “You look beautiful, my lady. They’ll all be smitten in an instant."

(Y/N) glances at herself, taking in the careful work her maids have done to make her look her best. Their excitement and warmth fill her with courage, and with one last glance at her friends, she takes a deep breath.

(Y/N) “Thank you, truly. You’ve made all of this feel much less daunting.”

[aelyosos]

doing good w my word press tutor + totally bought that cute watermelon whale shark plush from my last rb 😳

[racke7]

Me vs FF14 part... 2?

It's taken me pretty much three full days of running from cutscene to cutscene. But I've finally reached Heavensward.

And like... on some level? I'm kind of offended?

Like, a part of me genuinely wants to replay the entire game from the start "as something else" (different main-class, different race, different starting-area, whichever), because the dungeon-queuing system is actually really fun when you start to Understand it.

As in, FF14 has somehow made an MMO that has almost eliminated the feeling that it is a level-grind? Partially? It's turned the whole thing into a surprisingly comfortable level of (limited, but genuine) social interaction.

To the point where even someone who isn't obsessively grind-focused like me, can genuinely enjoy themselves. Just queuing up for dungeons, Hunting some bounties, and-...

And then FF14 has so many fucking quests that it literally chokes the life out of the gameplay.

As an example, one of their biggest dungeon-draws (bcs high rewards) is a quest that almost everyone hates playing. Because doing that dungeon means watching literally eighteen minutes of unskippable cutscenes.

And that's with them having reduced the amount of cutscenes in that dungeon, because the players complained so much about them.

Like... I'd be perfectly happy replaying the game from the start with a different character, even knowing that leveling isn't some kind of pain-free thing. But the thought of having to restart the fucking Main-Quest? Of having to spend literal days just running back-and-forth to cutscenes?

I'm currently feeling a bit burned-out as a result of the binge I went on to get here, but I'm pretty damn sure that I wouldn't replay this fucking thing even if you paid me for it.

(And, of course, Heavensward also has a Main-Quest continuation that you have to follow. And now I'm not even allowed to fly everywhere to cut down on the "running back-and-forth"-part of my complaints. Not until they arbitrarily allow me to discover flight for the new areas, by going through even more of the Main-Quest.)

(Not to mention that now I have to go back and do even more Class-quests, with their own cutscenes, in order to unlock a bunch of skills.)

(I'm very fond of the "the church is evil because it doesn't let you fuck dragons"-meme, and I'm very much seeing it. But like... come the fuck on. Why is this MMO a feature-length movie-series? Why can't I just play the game and have fun?)

[dracimexidae]

So yeah since Jasmine and Sara are out of the Finals 😢, I'm left with the BJK Cup and then i'm basically on vacation myself from tennis (as for the more engaged and "stressful" part of watching matches😝- honestly it's "exhausting" being a fan a pause is definitely needed phew 😮‍💨🤣)

[teddybeartoji]

18+ mdni; gn!reader

with a hand on the back of your head and another holding your throat, nanami curses under his breath, the sight of you gagging around his cock so filthy that the usually composed man has his knees threatening to buckle from underneath him. 

sweat trickles from the side of his face and there’s a deep shade of blush spread across his nose and cheeks, hiding the freckles you love so much. even the tips of his ears burn, the pleasure blooming everywhere under his skin as he rocks his hips against your face. the first buttons of his dress shirt are undone, a few hickeys already starting to darken on his skin from you nipping at him before dropping to your knees. he’s been working so very hard, and you just want him to let off a little steam – he just needs a bit of a push sometimes. 

so with you sat on his lap, sucking on his earlobe while pleading for him to take a break, it was impossible for him to say no. how could he when he’s got an angel in his arms, playing with his hair and kissing his neck ever so sweetly – he’s a weaker man than he thinks. 

when you slithered down between his thighs and stared up at him with big, hungry eyes, he found himself loosening his tie, his mind already beginning to cloud with the nastiest thoughts. 

ghosting your fingers over the growing bulge in his slacks, you rested your head against his thigh with a mischievous smile etched onto your lips. “c’mon, ken… i want to make you feel good.”

your words come out as a purr, as a siren’s call – you always have been a little tease, always the one to make him break and crumble. 

so here he finds himself now – slacks pooling around his ankles and the hem of his shirt caught between his teeth, trying his utmost best not to fill your mouth with cum after the first ten minutes like some damn teenager. his hair is a fucking mess, dusty blonde strands falling over his forehead no matter how many times he tries to push them back. he’s given up on it now, realizing that there are better things to be doing with his hands – the one on the back of your head, protects you from knocking against the wooden cupboard while the other rests on your neck, marveling the way his cock slides up and down your throat. 

it’s mesmerizing, the feeling of the bulge under the palm of his shaky hand. he’s in there, filling you up like nothing else and it’s the hottest fucking thing in the world. 

his pace is slow and steady, every roll of his hips has your nose nuzzling into his pubes, your chin pressing against his heavy balls. drool trickles from the corners of your mouth and it’s a sight to behold – it dribbles all the way down onto your thighs and from there on onto the floor and nanami can’t help but feel the coil in his stomach tighten faster than ever. you’re the only one that makes him feel like this, who manages to mold him to your own liking all while being down on your knees. 

the tip of your tongue tickles his balls and the growl he lets out makes you clench your thighs together. his shirt falls from between his teeth and he rushes to undo the rest of the buttons, desperate to get the material off of him, so he can give you his full attention once more. it’s exciting to see him this needy. 

you try to look up at him with him still down your throat and as a reward, he moves to stroke your cheek with his thumb. “you’re– you’re doing so good for me, darling.” 

his voice is raspier than ever and the praise that tumbles from his bitten lips has you moaning around his cock. his vision goes blurry for a moment as the pleasure overwhelms his senses. you’re something else. 

you’re fucking perfect. 

the ache in your knees fades in your mind as you get to watch him unravel above you. his strokes become more languid; he pulls out only a little before pushing back in, his tip reaching deeper and deeper with every thrust he makes. he wants to stay inside you, he wants to stay there forever. 

squirming below him, you screw your eyes shut and try to focus on your breathing – but as he stays slotted deep down your throat, it’s getting harder and harder and you can’t hold back the few tears that have been brimming at your lashline.

“f–fuck, i’m sorry, sweetheart… i– “

he feels you struggling, but doesn’t pull out even an inch, only grinding his hips into your face as if he was fucking your tight little hole instead. you claw at the backs of his thighs, your nails marking up his sensitive skin as you gag around him. but nanami’s mindful not to go too far, to make sure that he wouldn’t miss the moment your scratching should turn into tapping instead. as much as he’s enjoying himself, he’d rather die than to hurt you.

he waits for your signal but when it doesn’t come, he presses himself even further down your throat, moaning loudly when you gag around him. his blonde pubes stick to your skin, your spit acting as glue between you. 

your mouth is so fucking warm and tight and, fuck– the obscene sounds that fill his ears are making him lose his mind. you feel divine and it has him wondering what ever did he do to deserve a lover like you. 

all it takes is two pats against his thighs and he’s pulling away, his eyes locked onto your face as you gasp for air. crystalline droplets brim in the corners of your eyes and run over the apples of your cheeks, leaving behind salty remainders of your hard work. your lips are swollen and covered in a mixture of his precum and your own spit. trying to catch your breath, you take a moment before looking back up at him. 

the way his lips part in a silent groan the second you make eye-contact, his chest rising and falling as he strokes his fat cock right in front of your face. there’s still a strand of spit connecting the two of you, from your lips to his tip, and nanami wants to hate how big of an effect such a small thing can have on him. it’s romantic. 

you look ruined. 

he thinks you look absolutely fucking beautiful.

leaning down, he presses a fiery kiss to your lips as a thank you, as another form of praise. he loves the way you taste and they way you feel against him. 

you breathe into his mouth. “more…” 

nanami squeezes his fist around his base, another groan falling from him as he pulls away from you. the grin on your face, the hearts in your eyes and the love pooling on your tongue are more than enough to have him taking in a sharp intake of air – you reach out to him, gentle fingers wrapping around his way bigger ones as you guide him back to your mouth. your heavenly lips. 

as embarrassing as it is, it only takes another few minutes for him to cum down your throat with a loud, deep groan. he holds your neck just as before, feeling the way his own cock twitches inside of you as he gives you his all. 

there’s so much of it that despite you swallowing around him a couple of times, it still pours out from the corners of your mouth, turning you into an even bigger mess than before. but it’s not like you mind – this is exactly what you wanted in the first place. he’s panting like a dog above you, face red as a tomato as he bucks his hips into your mouth one last time. 

the sound that leaves his lips as he finally pulls out resembles a whimper and he lets out a sheepish chuckle, a bit flustered that you managed to pull that out of him. but then again…

it is you. 

his beloved, his love – the one who knows him the best, the one who knows what he needs without ever having to ask. you read him like an open book and he couldn't be more grateful. you're more than he could've asked for. hoped for.

and he loves you.

[katz-chow]

sorry sex with simon

warnings: pnv, fem!reader, fluffy, edging/denial, msub, fsoftdom

simon doesn't know how to apologize besides throwing himself into your mercy. he loves you and can't think of any other way to express to you how never means to hurt you, how everything he does is to make sure you're comfortable and taken care of.

even after this stupid little argument that he had with you, he didn't even know why he was fighting. he just realized too late when he saw tears form in your eyes and your feet stomping off into your shared bedroom.

so here is his penance, his apology: giving you soft kisses on your shoulder as his arms hold you up over his cock.you whine and groan as his cock slips in and out of your dripping pussy. he didn't want to hurt you and he didn't want to make you feel any more discomfort so he, in turn, used more lube than he normally would. the sounds of skin slapping skin normally would have made you blush in embarrassment and cause you to curl up into him. this time around, you couldn't care less, the way he's making you feel was a clear juxtaposition to how to feel just an hour before.

you feel his breath, heavy and hot in the crook of your neck, you pussy pulses around him and over your moans, he gives you one in return. his tongue licks and sucks on your shoulder gently, "m' sorry baby...shouldn't have said that..."

you whine and wrap your arms around his neck and his back, your tits pressed against his chest, "can we...ah- can we not..." you suck in a breath, "do this right now, si? when you're in me?"

he mumbles something you can't process or hear as one of his arms unravels and goes to rub tight circles around your clit. your back arches into his touch and a loud groan of his name rings out.

"wanna show you...how sorry i am.." he pants as his dick throbs inside of you, so so close to cumming, fill you up in his sticky release. the snap of his hip dials down into a roll. he hums as he feels your body start to tense up as the tension builds in your lower stomach.

crescent indents form in his back as your nails dig in from the pleasure he's able to give you, the amount of bliss 10x as strong from the lack of such a euphoric feeling you've been feeling. his thumb rubs your aching clit just a bit harder and your groans turned into a cacophony of whimpers and high pitched squeals as your orgasm runs through you.

simon feels your body tensing up in his arms, and damn does his cock feel it too. the way your cushiony walls pulsate and clamp dowm on him, god he was hard, it was unbearable. he wanted to cum so fucking badly, been wanting to put a load in you for half an hour now but he won't let himself. he said he was showing you how sorry he was, and that's exactly what he's doing.

your breathing steadies itself and you curl up closer to him, resting your face onto the top of his head, smelling in his yours shampoo. your whines become hiccups as your high dies down, overwhelmed and tired.

"i'm sorry lovie..." he begins, his hand slipping out from between your legs and his hips start to roll his cock in and out of your raw pussy. you groaned and tense up at the overstimulation, clinging onto him.

he turns off his brain as you help him, pulling your hips up and down. he lets out a breathy moan and holds you closer, snapping his throbbing cock inyo your harder, faster. his lips on your neck as he prays to you a mantra.

"m'sorry..so sorry, lovie..." simon's close he can feel it, he just needs two words from you, that's it. he needs you to let him cum, god-seeing you sad is punishment enough, mixed with the pain of his tight balls and overly sensitive cock makes him a brainless mush.

he couldn't take it anymore as he pounds into you, mumbling messily into your ear, your scent overwhelming him- you overwhelming him. "m'sorry m'sorry...so sorry. m'sorry sorrysorrysorry...."

"it's okay, si...it's okay." god, that's all he needs as his prayers to you were answered, his mantra stops with a restrained moan, quickly turning into whimpers like a hurt puppy as you feel his thick cum fill you, dripping down his shaft.

his arms loosen the grip he has on you and you slide down his dick just a bit and he bites into your shoulder, the friction making him overwhelmed. the two of you sit like that for a bit, leaning on each other to stay upright. you don't even think simon had anything to think about.

"you okay?" you ask him, grounding him from his headless space that he had slipped to, dependent on you for everything.

you feel him nod and his arms lift you up, pulling out of you. he gives you a gentle kiss on your lips and your hands find his cheeks, wiping away his tears. "m' really sorry.."

"i know, baby...i know.." you assure him and he lays back onto the headboard.

simon riley would gladly give up his whole being for you, and luckily for him, you'll always accept it, holding him together until he stitch himself up again.

master list | letter box | main directory

stop by the letter box!

[serqphites]

nothing hurts me more than seeing ellie be written as a stone cold cheating dom who is really rough and mean to her gf, and honestly just lacks personality in general?? let’s not forget that ellie is just a girl who needs her girlfriend!!

18+, mdni, strap-on sex (e! reviving), teeniest bit of angst? oral mentions (r! receiving)

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gf!ellie who sometimes just wants to be the little spoon! she’s sooo nervous about it for no reason. you’ll obviously poke fun at her for it, reassuring her that it’s not a big deal, but she’ll still never outright ask you to spoon her.

ellie had been hesitant to let you roll away from her tonight, you’d offered her the comfort of spooning you to which she kindly denied with a gentle smile and a shake of her head. figuring it wasn’t that much of a big deal, you said goodnight like normal and i turned away from one another (touching butts as usual). after laying there for a few minutes, the sound of what you can only assume is teeth chattering begins to fill the quiet of your shared bedroom. is that ellie? the thought lingers for a moment until the feeling of ellie’s little butt wriggling against your own drags you from your mind, causing you to look back over your shoulder at her curled up frame in the darkness. “you okay els?” your voice is a gentle whisper, ellie nodding in response to your question before she responds back, her voice too barely above a whisper. “i’m jus’cold” your arm is draped over her waist in seconds, your front pressing up against her back as your face nuzzles into the back of her neck. what ellie wants, ellie gets.

gf!ellie who sometimes just needs a hug. :(

patrol can get overwhelming for her sometimes, exhausting her body and mind to the point she can’t even speak coherent words as her bottom lips quivers, her fingers coming up to pinch her baggy eyes as if to close the dam threatening to overflow. “oh el’s” you coo, reaching out for her just as she crumbles into your arms.

gf!ellie who can never shut up about you. constantly telling jesse about how much of a dork you are and how you “match her dorkegy” (dork energy). poor dina has to always give her advice on how to make you feel better after she’s accidentally upset you for the 2948593923th time, like i said she is just a girl!! joel is usually the one asking ellie about yourself, always wanting to know what the two of you have been getting up to because isn’t he just so dndosjrnd???

gf!ellie who just wants to hold your hand while her tongue sends you to heaven and back. every time you moan her name or just make a noise she likes, squeeze. ellie lovessss squeezes. your hand? she squeezes i. love. you. whenever she can’t say it. your thighs? she can’t keep her hands off. your cheeks? you’re too cute that’s not her fault??

gf!ellie who sometimes just wants you to fill her up with your dick strap.

ploughing into her from behind, ellie propped up on her elbows with her head held low, her pretty whimpers and groans egging you on. “takin’ me s’good el’s, how’s it feel hmm?” you can’t help but poke fun, enjoying the role swap a little too much. “feels s- fuck” poor girl can’t even speak, her words falling apart in the back of her throat. how did you let her do this to you so much? you’ve only just started and she’s just about ready to have a warm bath and watch one of the many movies from her very proud collection.

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[wheeboo]

for a moment, forever | choi seungcheol

SYNOPSIS. in which while shopping for wedding dresses for your best friend, you can't help but want to try one on too. PAIRING. choi seungcheol x gn!reader (ft. jihyo from twice as reader's engaged best friend) GENRE. fluff, established relationship WARNINGS. mild cursing, terms of endearment, reader wears a wedding dress, cheol doesn't show up until like halfway into the fic HAHAH WORD COUNT. 2.2k

notes: this is lowkey me describing my dream dress if i do somehow get married lmao so also self indulgent too ig, and it was fun searching up dresses! this also reminds me of that one scene from extraordinary attorney woo. if u know u know :') happy belated bday cheol <3

[02:39PM | y/n] should be done with jihyo's appointment in a few hours!! you can pick me up then bub❤️

[2:41PM | cheol 💕] Sounds good, my love. I'll see you then 😊

"Wait, oh my God, that one is beautiful!"

"Right?!" Jihyo exclaims eagerly before swiping to the next photo in her camera roll, on it displayed a gorgeous mermaid wedding dress that she had saved from Pinterest. "Okay, not sure if I like the mermaid ones but this was one was too pretty to not be saved."

"You can always ask to try one on too. I still think you'd rock whichever one you put on," You tell her, lacing an arm around hers as the two of you approach the bridal boutique that was just around the corner. "I still can't believe you're getting married."

When you and Jihyo exchange knowing glances with each other, squeals of excitement escape both of you. It feels surreal, almost like a dream knowing that your best friend is about to walk down the aisle and take her first steps into married life. Just ahead of the two of you, the bridal boutique gleams with soft lights and elegantly displayed gowns in the windows.

As you both step inside, the cozy warmth of the boutique wraps around you, and a subtle, lingering floral scent and delicate perfume fills the air. The interior is enchanting yet inviting, with a variety of dresses arranged by style. The boutique's consultant greets you both with a welcoming smile, and after a brief chat and a rundown of the different options, she leads you to a private area where Jihyo can begin her fitting.

You follow Jihyo as she naturally gravitates towards the gowns on display. You can tell she's already picturing herself in each dress. It's a bit overwhelming being surrounded by so many intricately designed dresses, like you've walked straight into a world of fairytale. Lace, satin, tulle𑁋every fabric imaginable seems to be represented here.

While helping Jihyo pick out some dresses, you can't lie that some have caught your eye more than you can admit. Knowing that one day these dresses will be worn by someone on of the most important days of your life fills you with awe. The thought makes your heart full, and briefly, you can't but help but imagine yourself walking down the aisle one day.

For a moment, your mind flickers to the thought of Seungcheol, and your heart does a jump.

One particular white tulle, floral embroidered dress with off-shoulder sleeves catches your attention. It's a perfect blend of elegance and romance. You let your hand run over the delicate embroidery, marvelling with admiration at the elaborate details caressed over every inch of it. The floral patterns are so finely crafted that they seem to bloom like real flowers right out of the fabric.

"Y/N, you need to try that on right now!"

You turn swiftly at the sound of Jihyo's commanding voice. "What? No, I can't𑁋"

"Come on, please!" Jihyo urges insistently while holding just about a dozen dresses in her hands. "It's so beautiful!"

"But this is for your special day, not𑁋"

"Honey, you and Seungcheol have been together for so long now, and sooner or later, you're going to have your special day too. Just try it on for fun, and I’d love to see how it looks on you!"

Okay, she really didn't have to bring up Seungcheol like that, but now you can't get it out of your head. An odd, fluttery feeling bursts in your stomach on top of the embarrassment crawling up your neck.

"Fine," You relent with a playful look. "But I'll do it after you try on all your dresses. Once again, today is for you, missy."

A wide grin spreads across her face as she shuffles towards the fitting room. "It's a deal!"

The next hour or so you spend lounging on the couch as Jihyo tries on dress after dress. Each one seems to bring out a different side of her: from elegant to dramatic, playful to sophisticated. You can’t help but laugh and cheer her on, snapping pictures and videos to capture every moment. You also help with various aspects of the fittings, from adjusting straps to even adding the veil on her head.

"You look like a princess!" You exclaim, clapping your hands as she twirls in a voluminous ball gown in front of the mirror.

"I feel like one!" Jihyo giggles, even doing a dramatic hair flip to add for an endearing touch.

The last one that she tries on is a mermaid dress with stunning lace detailing and a long, flowing train that spreads across the floor like ocean waves. As she steps out of the fitting room, the dress hugs her curves perfectly, and she looks every bit of a confident, radiant bride shining in her own element.

"Girl," You gasp out, voice full of awe. "that dress was made for you. You look absolutely stunning!"

Jihyo gazes at herself in the mirror. "Really?"

"Yes!" You claim, and you almost want to cry thinking about your best friend walking down the aisle. "I can so picture you walking down the aisle in this, holy shit."

Jihyo chuckles bashfully at your reaction.

"I'm going to be a bride," she says aloud, somewhat to herself and in a way announcing to the world too, before turning to you with a gleeful expression. "I'm going to be a bride!"

[04:45PM | cheol 💕] Are you done, sweetheart? I got to leave work earlier and just arrived at the place. Might come in since it's boiling outside 😅

"I really don't know about this𑁋"

"Come on, just try it on!" Jihyo nudges you ever so slightly to the fitting room, the dress trembling in your grasp. "This will be us doing some early preparations for your wedding, 'kay?"

Reluctantly, you find yourself stepping into the fitting room, the dress in your hands feeling both light and heavy at the same time. Taking a long, deep breath, you start to change into the dress as the consultant comes to your side to assist.

At first, the fabric feels odd against your skin, the delicate embroidery and soft tulle brushing against your shoulders as you put on the dress. The off-shoulder sleeves fit surprisingly snug when you slip them through your arms. The floral patterns seem to come alive right before your eyes, just like they had when you first saw the dress.

You take the first glance of yourself in the mirror in the fitting room, and it's almost as if you've been kicked in the gut and all the words had left you.

"Wow," You whisper to yourself, doing a small spin to see how the dress looks, and it feels absolutely magical to be the one wearing this dress right now.

Scrambling slightly, you look around your scattered belongings on the floor for your phone, knowing that you just have to capture this very moment before you would have to take the dress off.

But you can't find your phone anywhere.

"Crap, where did I put it?" You mumble annoyedly, having to move your dress around to get a better look, yet you still don't see it. Did you leave it outside? "Hey, Jihyo! If you're out there, can you pass me my phone?"

No response.

"Jihyo?"

Still no response.

Deflating your shoulders, you decide you might as well step outside to retrieve it.

"I didn't think the dress would fit this good. It's a bit heavier than I thought but I think I could manage𑁋"

And then you freeze, almost as if you were caught red-handed committing some sort of heinous crime, because Seungcheol is standing not that far away from you, eyes wide with disbelief and mouth dropped down to the floor at the sight of you wearing the wedding dress.

For a few moments, it's like the world stops as well, and you start to feel a little self-conscious under his gaze.

"Cheol? What are you..." Then you look down at yourself and the dress you were wearing. "You're here earlier than I-I thought, I should go change𑁋"

Seungcheol blinks back to reality from your words. "Wait, no, don't move, please."

He keeps his eyes locked on you, his gaze moving from your face, to the way the dress hugs and accentuates your figure in all the right ways, then back up again. You can practically see the gears turning in his head. You can't help but feel a blush creeping up your cheeks as you stand there, awkwardly holding the hem of the dress in your sweaty hands.

You can hear your heart pounding in your chest. This is not how you imagined seeing Seungcheol after Jihyo's appointment. You were expecting a casual, friendly greeting, maybe a quick kiss, and then a drive home. But this... this is different. You've been with Seungcheol for years, but he's staring at you like he's seeing you for the first time.

"Wow, I..." He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly before placing his hands in his pockets. "You're fucking breathtaking, honey."

Your cheeks burn brighter than ever, some sort of choked sound leaving you at his bluntness. You glance down at the dress, then back at Seungcheol.

"You... You think so?" You ask, voice timid and tainted with unsureness.

"Think so?" he repeats, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "I know so. I can't take my eyes off you."

A rush of heat climbs up your neck as you avert your eyes away, pretending to adjust the hem of the dress, fingers clumsily tugging at the material. The dress suddenly feels suffocatingly hot and you don't know how much more you can take.

His eyes still don't leave you even when he steps closer, the features of his face softening into simply an adoring look.

You could feel your feet melting into the ground below. "Cheol, I should really go change𑁋"

"Not yet," he says firmly, and you stay put. "Just let me look at you for a little longer, please?"

That familiar, pleading tone to his voice makes your heart run laps in your chest and causes your knees to feel like jelly. He takes a few more steps towards you, and before you know, he's standing right in front of you, half-lidded eyes flickering between yours and your lips. He takes a hand out of his pocket and reaches out to gently cup your face, letting a finger trace slowly over your cheek, leaning in just close enough to whisper in your ear.

"I can't wait to marry you."

His words come out so quiet that you're barely able to hear it. And before you can respond, some loud, marching footsteps snaps you out of thought.

"Y/N! Look at this, I found the perfect veil for you!" When Jihyo sees you and Seungcheol, she stops short in her tracks, glancing at the sight of you in the dress and Seungcheol standing in front of you appearing as if he was just two seconds away from kissing you.

You clear your throat loudly, stepping away from Seungcheol and towards Jihyo.

"You found a veil for me?" You ask her.

"Yeah, put it on!" Jihyo hands you the dainty veil. "I went through hell trying to find a good one and I think this one works perfectly."

You feel Seungcheol's eyes on you as you carry the veil towards the mirror and carefully place it over your head. The light, airy fabric showers down around you, complementing the elegant gown. As you adjust the veil to your liking, you catch a glimpse of your reflection and can't help but smile. You see Seungcheol in the mirror as well, staring at you with an intense gaze of admiration.

And when you turn around, Seungcheol thinks you look more beautiful than what his imagination could possibly give him. He has to bite at his bottom lip in order to suppress some of the giddiness threatening to spread throughout his body, and the thought of seeing you again in a wedding dress makes him almost dizzy.

You're like an angel who has stepped foot into his world. The dress houses your wings and the veil is your halo. It's a perfect vision of the future he’s been dreaming about for so long it nearly makes him burst; a reality that he never thought he'd be seeing so soon.

He's going to marry you𑁋he knows he will. He knew that from that moment you first smiled at him back in your freshman year English class, all because you both simply made unexpected eye contact while you were introducing yourself. He knew it even more when he embarrassingly fell on his ass during a university soccer game and your laugh was the only sound that he could hear.

This is his first peek of forever with you, and he can't wait for it to all come true.

Seungcheol faintly hears you ask what he thinks about it, and only the heavens know how much he wants to answer by putting that ring stashed in the depths of his bedside drawer on your finger right then and there. But there's a time and place for everything. He has to make sure everything is perfect first.

So, yeah, he should really get to planning. And right now seems like a good start.

taglist (open) ʚɞ @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @eternalgyu

@lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @ryuwonieebae @wonwooz1

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@phenomenalgirl9 @mirxzii @bookyeom @parkjennykim @melodicrabbit

@bewoyewo @honglynights @bananabubble @treehouse-mouse @starshuas

@totomoshi @armycarat2612 @etherealyoungk @maesvtr0 @gigification

[sttm99]

Content warnings: swearing, making out, unedited

Prohero!Dynamight falls for the live wedding painter at his best friend's wedding

Dynamight is explosive in more ways than just his quirk.

When you see him in person for the first time whilst doing the live painting for Red Riot's wedding ceremony, he's all you see for a moment or two, and you're thankful you didn't mess up a chord at the sight of him.

His presence is overwhelming, taking up the space around him, sucking people in whilst simultaneously pushing them away.

He walks down the aisle with another pro-hero bridesmaid on his side before taking his place on the dais with the rest of the groomsmen, meters away from where you're standing before your easel.

Dynamight stands next to Chargebolt, his signature frown softer than usual as he watches his friend get married. You stare at him, eyes tracing the contours of his face as best as you can despite the distance as you work to capture his face in the painting.

He's a handsome man, you think, as you press quick strokes to his hair. When you look up again, he's staring at you, and the eye contact has your stomach dropping in a way that's not entirely unpleasant.

He looks away immediately Red Riot comes up, lightly patting his best friend's back in encouragement.

Once the music starts and the bride enters the hall, Dynamight is the last thing on your mind as you work to capture her. As you do so, you fail to notice the way he goes back to looking at you.

You set your things down at the corner of the large reception hall, beginning the second painting of the evening.

You smile softly at guests as they come to admire your work, trying your best to capture the bride's extravagant reception dress as she prances around the place gleefully.

You're focused as your work on her skirt piece, squinting as you paint across it delicately, so much so you don't notice the presence just behind you.

"You're good at this shit." You hear suddenly behind you. The voice is startling enough to draw your focus away, but not so much that you mess it up.

You glance behind you at the tall blonde male, fairly shocked at his presence. You'd assumed he wasn't the type for social interactions judging by how cold and aloof he was to most of the other guests.

"It is my job," You say as you turn back to your painting.

"I know." He walks forward, so he's beside you now, his gaze on the scene on you've done so far. "But this-" He pauses, glances at you then back ay the easel, "This is really fucking good. And you're fast. I saw the one you did at the ceremony."

You hum, a nice warmth coursing through you at the praise.

"Thank you, Dynamight." You turn to give him a small smile. Then you hold out your brush to him, "You wanna try?"

His eyes widen a bit and he quickly shakes his head. "Nah. I'll do a shit job, I promise you."

You laugh softly at how hesitant he was, but you could see the way he was eyeing the brush. "It's fine. You'll just make some strokes on the gown." You insist. "I'll guide you."

He pauses, looking straight at you as he mulls it over.

"Fine. Gimme that." He huffs as he takes the brush from you and stands closer, holding it over the board.

"Okay, so..." You hold his enclosed palm and bring the brush closer to the painting, making light strokes on the white gown of the bride.

Your eyes are on the painting, but his are on you, your face as you focus, your hand as it holds his, and a warmth begins to pool at his stomach.

"See?" You murmur with a small smile as you look back at him. Your cheeks redden just slightly when you see how he's already looking at you.

"Um... are you-"

"You should call me Bakugo," He says as he looks away from you and back at the painting. His voice is lower than before, and his disposition is less stiff.

"Oh." You just say quietly as he hands the brush back to you, unsure of what to say next.

"Now's when you tell me your name in return." He's quieter, and he's refusing to look at you.

You assume it's to hide the red you can see dusting his face.

"YN." You say to him as you take the brush back, a small smile on your face. He nods once and repeats it under his breath in a voice that almost makes you squirm.

"Is that me?" He asks quietly as he squints at a figure in one corner.

You look at it and nod. "Yep."

He hums, "And that's Soy Sauce face." He points at another figure you're sure is Cellophane. "Then Earphone Jack and the idiot. Deku, Half and Half-"

He goes on listing pro heroes by strangely accurate but offensive nicknames, and you can't help but find it incredibly funny.

He spends most of the reception with you as you paint, ignoring the weird way people look at him as he refuses to leave your side, even going as far as bringing you a plate of cake after it's been cut, and some other foods and drinks.

As the night ends and the guests leave, he's the last by your side before the newlyweds and their closer friends and family come over to see how far you've gone.

"It looks practically done," Mina says in awe.

You smile as you pack the rest of your things. "Almost. I'll have to do some finishing touches at the studio first, though. You should get them back in about a week."

They hum as they take some more looks.

Kirishima looks at Bakugo as he stands right next to your side. "You gonna follow her to the studio too?" He snorts at his friend, "Seeing as you couldn't leave her side, you might as well."

"Shut the fuck up, Shitty Hair."

You laugh as you pack up the painting, "Anyways, I hope you guys had fun, and congratulations on getting married." You say as you begin to leave.

"I'll help you," Bakugo grumbles as he carries your large box of paints and brushes.

The look he gives you lets you know that he's not taking 'no' for an answer, which is how you found yourself outside the hall with him next to the car.

"Thank you, Bakugo, for the help." You say as you look up at him with a grin.

He stares you down with his regularly furrowed brows, his hands stuffed in his pocket as he thinks of what to say to keep you longer.

"Would it be inappropriate if I asked for your number?" He's so close you can smell him and it makes you feel fuzzy.

You grin. "Not at all."

He hands you his phone for you to out your number in, and as he watches you do it with your hands slightly stained with paint, he can't help but want to kiss you.

Would that be inappropriate? He's sure it will. You two just met. But still, he can't help but want to try.

Bakugo stuffs his phone back into his pockets the moment you hand it back, and he steps closer to you. His palms are sweaty, and he's trying to inconspicuously wipe them as they're stuffed in his trouser pockets.

"Would it also be inappropriate if I kissed you here?" His voice is husky as he asks and you can see the blush on his face.

He's so much different than the media paints him out to be, more awkward than mean, more aloof than nasty. But you think that maybe this persona, this Bakugo, is just for you.

You smile up at him shyly, your hands tightly clasped behind your back as you nod.

He doesn't hold your face because his palms are too sweaty. He doesn't think he can get them dry enough on time because he wants to kiss you now.

He leans forward, and you do too, and when his mouth meets yours, you're lightheaded. His lips are soft as he kisses you, and he moves them in a way that shows experience.

You smile into it, satisfied and still wanting more, and before you know it, his palms are on your waist, pulling you flush against his body and pressing his lips harder against your own.

When you pull away, his eyes are half lidded, but you can see how blown his pupils are.

"Good night, Bakugo." You whisper to him.

He pecks your cheek once before letting go, "Good night."

[hoshifighting]

Seventeen reactions when reader is squirting with no permission after hours of edging please?

Seventeen reaction when you squirt without permission after hours of edging

Warnings: Smut, edging, overstimulations, clit stimulation, g'spot stimulation, fingering, penetrative sex, oral (f. receiving) body fluids (squirt), pusnishing.

Seungcheol

watches you closely. he wonders if he has edged you too much this time, the concern flickering in his eyes. when he finally lets you rest, your body still trembling, he leaves the room to fetch some gatorade. "drink up," he says softly, pressing the bottle to your lips. you gulp it down, the cool liquid soothing your dehydrated throat. just as you begin to feel a bit more relaxed, you hear the hum of the vibrator starting up again. "baby–" you begin to protest, but he cuts you off with a stern look. "i didn't give you permission to cum," he says, his voice commanding. hot and cold, just the way he is.

Jeonghan

eyes light up with a wicked gleam when you finally lose control, your body convulsing as you squirt all over the bed. "oh, did i push you too far?" he asks, but the smirk on his face tells you he loves every second of it. he turns the edging into overstimulation, his fingers and mouth working as partners to make sure you soak his bed again. "wet it all over again for me, baby," he murmurs, his voice dripping with arousal.

Joshua

joshua's eyes light up with fascination as he watches you squirt. despite your embarrassed protests, he joins his fingers, moving them just right to make you splash more, coaxing even more liquid from you. "joshua, please," you whimper, but he ignores your plea, his fingers relentless. "just a little more," he says softly, his voice soothing despite the intensity of his actions. he wants to see you fall apart completely, and he's not stopping until you do.

Junhui

his fingers press tighter on your clit, circling it with precision. the sensation is too much, and you can't help but squirt even more as your hips twitch uncontrollably. "good girl," he praises, his voice low and soothing. "give me everything you've got." his shooting sounds like a trap, because you know he's going to make you pay somehow.

Hoshi

soonyoung's hands press one hand on your stomach down as his fingers dive deeper inside you. you gasp, feeling his fingers tremble against your g'spot. "you didn't wait for my permission," he says, his tone almost scolding. "now you have to deal with it," his fingers move faster, punishing you for losing control. the sensation is overwhelming, your body convulsing as he pushes you further than you thought possible.

Wonwoo

wonwoo's reaction is immediate. he slams his cock inside you without warning, making you squirt in little spurts as you moan, your sensitivity heightened by the edging. he growls, his movements rough. he loves seeing you like this, on the edge or sensitive, and completely at his mercy. he doesn’t give you a moment to breathe, each thrust pushing you closer to another climax.

Woozi

you hold his wrist to keep his fingers still inside you, hoping to stop the flow. but it only makes things worse, his fingertips pressed on your sweet spot, making you roll your eyes as your body continues to convulse, everything getting drenched, him, the couch... "i told you it was a bad idea edging me on your studio's couch," you manage to scold him between moans. he slaps your thigh, his tone scolding. "stop scolding me, and i didn't give you permission to cum," he says, his fingers flicking your clit fast. you curse him, your puffy clit throbbing on his fingers every flick.

Minghao

minghao remains unbothered, watching you with a calm expression as you squirt. he starts to overstimulate you, his fingers and the vibrator working in tandem to push you beyond your limits. "these are just your consequences," he says coolly. "you knew you couldn't cum yet." your body convulses non-stop, the vibrator buzzing inside you. he doesn’t let up, determined to make you pay for breaking the rule.

Mingyu

mingyu’s dominant image falters for a moment as he watches you squirt. it’s hard for you to do this, but then he regains his posture, turning off the vibrator and coupling his mouth on your wet pussy. a strangled moan leaves your mouth as his tongue works you over, mingyu’s determination to finish what he started evident in every movement. his mouth is relentless, and you feel another orgasm building quickly. "sorry," he murmurs between licks, a sly slime playing on his lips.

Seokmin

seokmin forgets for a moment that he didn't give you permission to cum. "it's okay, baby, just let it all out," he coos, his voice gentle and soothing. but then it clicks, and he slams his cock inside you again, making you pull against the handcuffs in desperation. "wait... you're not done yet," he says, his voice firm.

Seungkwan

he slaps your clit, making you splash all over him again. "who. said. you. could. cum." he emphasizes each word with a slap, his tone firm and totally strict. the sensation is overwhelming, your body responding to his punishment with more squirts. he’s relentless, determined to teach you a lesson.

Vernon

vernon's fingers pinch your clit, making your body convulse hard, gushing on his sheets, as you clench around nothing. "baby, you're so sensitive, oh my god..." he murmurs, his voice filled with awe, like he had just discovered something new. your legs tighten around his torso, trapping him in place as he continues to tease you.

Chan

chan's hand presses down on your shoulder, his cock pushing even deeper inside you. "you're not escaping this," he says, his voice low and commanding. you feel his tip abusing your cervix, and you have no choice but to gush all over his pelvis. "there you go," he whispers, his voice filled with satisfaction. his control over you is absolute, and you know you’re completely at his mercy, leaving you craving more even as you try to catch your breath.

[wh1msic4lwasab1]

… 𝙄𝙨 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙗𝙤𝙙𝙮 𝙜𝙤𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝 𝙢𝙮 𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙠? ᯓ★୭ ˚. l

synopsis: genshin men and some of their kinks that surprised you a bit…but might as well match their freak?

tags: sub!reader, size kink, cum play, orgasm control

a/n: my bestie @astarionapologist helped me make these certified freaky !!!

☆ 𝙕𝙝𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙡𝙞 -> 𝙎𝙞𝙯𝙚 𝙆𝙞𝙣𝙠 ୭ ˚.⁺⊹ .ᐟ

More specifically, Morax, has got to have the biggest size kink. The thought of taking his human and their measly body sent a cold wave through his scales.

Of course he’s impossibly huge, and the thought of trying to take it inside you is both terrifying and exhilarating.

…

'I want to show you what it's like,' Zhongli says, his voice soft and gentle. 'I want to share this part of myself with you.' He says, guiding you into your bedroom as he towers over your frame; forcing you to look up into his lapis eyes.

Before you can answer, he's on you, his massive body pressing you against the wall. His shaft is pressing against your entrance, and you can feel the heat of it radiating through your clothes.

'Are you ready, my love?' he asks, his voice a low growl.

You nod, your heart pounding in your chest. You're not sure if you're ready, but you want this more than anything.

As his single arm is enough to hold your body against the wall, his other is pulling at your robes.

Zhongli enters you slowly at first, his shaft stretching you wider than you've ever been stretched before. You cry out as he fills you, your body trembling with the effort of taking him inside you.

But Zhongli doesn't stop. He keeps pushing, his cock sliding deeper and deeper inside you until you're completely impaled on him. You can feel him pulsing inside you, his energy coursing through your veins and making you feel more alive than you've ever felt before.

'Taking me so well…y/n,' he growls, his voice rough and raw. '… so, so perfect.” he manages to say, feeling your walls practically strangle him.

He starts to move, his shaft sliding in and out of you with rough, powerful strokes. You cry out with each thrust, the pleasure overwhelming you.

' harder,' you gasp, your voice barely above a whisper. 'I can take it.'

Zhongli responds, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more desperate. You can feel him losing control, his massive body trembling with the effort of holding back. Moreso now hearing how much you’re actually enjoying this, something he was so worried about.

'Fuck-,' he growls, his voice barely audible. 'I'm going to come. I can't hold back any longer.' You feel his forked tongue lick your ear, making you groan louder as you feel his hand on your lower stomach, tracing the shape of his cock inside you; getting off to how big he must feel inside your womb.

'Do it,' you gasp, your body quivering with anticipation. 'Please- fill me up. I want to feel it inside me Moraz!-“

With a final, desperate thrust, Zhongli comes, his energy surging through you and making you see stars. You cry out, your body shaking with the force of your own orgasm.

☆ 𝙏𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙖 -> 𝘾𝙪𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮 ୭ ˚.⁺⊹ .ᐟ

Something about Tartaglia being such a family man and wanting to 100% breed you makes it way too plausible that he’s into cum, especially on your face.

…

'Come here, baby,' he growls, beckoning you closer.

You eagerly comply, dropping to your knees before him and wrapping your eager hands around his girth. You can feel the heat radiating from his member, and you can't wait to taste him.

'That's it' Tartaglia moans as you begin to stroke him, your fingers slick with his precum. 'Just like that.'

You take the tip of his cock into your mouth, savoring the salty taste of him. He groans, his hands fisting in your hair as you begin to suck him in earnest. You can feel his cock swelling in your mouth, growing harder and hotter as you worship him.

'Fuck,' Tartaglia pants, his hips bucking as you take him deeper. 'Your little mouth feels so good.'

You moan around him, the vibrations sending shivers down his spine. You can feel his balls tightening, and you know he's close. You redouble your efforts, determined to make him cum harder than ever before.

'Y/n, I'm gonna...fuck!-' Tartaglia cries out, his cock twitching as he releases a massive load of cum down your throat. You swallow what you can eagerly, savoring the taste of him and basking in the knowledge that you pleased him so thoroughly.

But Tartaglia isn't done yet. He pulls out of your mouth, his cock still hard and glistening with your saliva. He reaches down, smearing his tip around on your face, leaving a thick, sticky trail of cum across your cheek.

'Look at you, my love,' he growls, his eyes dark with lust. 'So cute with my cum painting your face.'

You blush, but you can't deny the thrill that runs through you at his words.

'You like that huh?' Tartaglia asks, his fingers tracing patterns in the cum on your cheek. 'You like it when I cum on your face?'

You nod, unable to speak as you watch him play with his load. He smears it around your face, coating your cheeks and forehead with his essence.

Tartaglia grins, his eyes shining with excitement.

'Then maybe next time, I'll cum inside you,' he says, pressing another kiss to your lips. 'But for now, my love, I have to go meet with the other harbingers. I'll see you later, okay? He says? Flicking your forehead before zipping up his pants and flashing you a smile.

“Count on it.”

☆ 𝙒𝙧𝙞𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙡𝙚𝙮 -> 𝙊𝙧𝙜𝙖𝙨𝙢 𝘿𝙚𝙣𝙞𝙖𝙡 ୭ ˚.⁺⊹ .ᐟ

This man will demand respect from you, not because he’s so stern and moralus, but because he finds it so hot to be able to control you in such an intimate way.

You groan as you enter Wriothesley's office, your body already aching for his touch. He looks up from his paperwork, a wicked grin crossing his face as he beckons you over to his desk with a single finer. You waste no time closing the door behind you, locking it tight as you make your way over to him.

'I was beginning to think you'd never get here,' he says, his voice low and husky. He stands up from his chair, towering over you as he pulls you in for a kiss. His tongue probes your mouth, demanding entry as his hands roam your body.

'I've been thinking about you all day,' you admit, your voice breathless as you wrap your arms around his neck.

'Good,' he growls, his fingers finding the hem of your shirt. He pulls it up and over your head, tossing it aside as his lips find your neck. You moan as he nips at your skin, his teeth grazing your sensitive flesh.

'You know I have a meeting in ten minutes,' he says, his voice muffled against your skin.

'Then you better make it quick,' you reply, your voice dripping with desire and eagerness.

He chuckles, his hands working at the button and zipper of your pants. He pushes them down, along with your underwear, leaving you standing in front of him in nothing but your bra. He takes a step back, his eyes raking over your body as he takes in the sight of you.

'Fuck, you're beautiful,' he says, his voice filled with reverence.

You blush at the compliment, but the heat in your cheeks is quickly replaced by a surge of desire as he steps closer to you once again. His hands roam your body, cupping your breasts and pinching your nipples through the fabric of your bra.

'You like that?' he asks, his voice husky.

‘Yes,' you moan, your hips grinding against his as you seek out the friction you crave, getting pushed back into sitting atop his desk as your knees buck.

He chuckles, his fingers finding the clasp of your bra. He unhooks it, letting it fall to the ground.

He reaches for you again, pulling you close as he kisses you deeply. His hands roam your body, grabbing your ass and pulling you closer to him. You can feel his hard cock pressing against your stomach, and you can't help but grind against him.

He breaks the kiss, his lips finding your ear.

‘You really want me to fuck you, don’t you?' he asks, his voice low and husky.

'Yes,' you moan, your voice desperate as you cling onto his collar.

He chuckles, his fingers finding your clit. He starts to rub slow circles around it, his touch light and teasing.

'Beg for it,' he says, his voice commanding.

'Please-' you whisper, your hips grinding against his hand. 'Please fuck me.'

He chuckles, his fingers still circling your clit.

'Beg harder,' he says, his voice low and dangerous, his smirk plastered into his face.

'Please, I need it,' you moan, your voice desperate. 'Please, Wrio….'

He growls, his fingers quickening their pace.

He lets out a deep groan, 'You're so wet for me,' he says, his voice filled with lust.

He slides a finger inside of you, his thumb still rubbing circles around your clit. You moan as he starts to move his finger in and out of you, his pace slow and teasing.

'Did I tell you to stop?,' he says again, his voice low and commanding.

'Please, I need it,' you moan, your voice desperate. 'Please, Wriothesley, I need you…”.

He growls, his finger sliding out of you. He grabs your hips, spinning you around so that your back is facing him. He pushes you down, bending you over his desk as he positions himself behind you.

'You're mine,' he growls, his cock pressed against your entrance.

'Yes-!,' you moan, your body trembling with desire.

He thrusts into you, hard and deep. You moan as he starts to move, his hips slamming against yours as he fucks you rough and raw.

He reaches around, his fingers finding your clit. He starts to rub slow circles around it, his touch light and teasing.

'You're not allowed to cum, got that?,' he says, his voice low and dangerous.

'What…?!’ you moan, your body trembling with desire.

'You heard me,' he says, his voice firm. 'You're not allowed to cum unless I say so.'

'But-' you start to protest, but he cuts you off with a thrust of his hips.

'No,' he growls, his fingers still circling your clit. 'You'll do as you're told.'

You moan, your body trembling with desire as you try to hold back your orgasm. He continues to fuck you rough and raw, his fingers still circling your clit.

'Please,' you moan, your voice desperate. 'Please, I need to cum-“

'Not yet,' he says, his voice firm.

You moan, your body trembling with need as you try to hold back your orgasm. But it's too much, and you can feel it building inside of you.

'Please,' you moan, your voice desperate. 'Please, let me cum.'

He growls, his fingers quickening their pace, tricking you into believing he’d ever let you have your high right now, pulling out completely and giving your ass a heavy smack.

'Good girl,' he says, his voice low and husky.

You blush at the compliment, still angry at the fact he wouldn’t let you finish. But you knew he was in it for the long game, he didn’t need to say it but you knew he was promising to make you finish at least 5 times the next time he gets his hands on you.

'Thank you,' you say, your voice breathless.

He chuckles, pulling out of you and helping you to straighten up.

'Anytime,' he says, his voice filled with lust.

'I'll hold you to that,' you say, your voice playful.

'I have no doubt,' he says, his voice low and husky.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.