#combined body difficulty

[wikiritmica]

[transmechanicus]

Woke up from my little power outage nap and couldn’t even manage to eat a full box of macked cheese, grad school will fuck you up for life kids, do it at your own risk.

[anantaru]

・✶ ｡ synopsis — capitano feels way too large on top of you, his presence almost frightening you, but don't you worry because he has a soft spot just for you <3

warnings — size kink/size difference, scary man only sweet for his s/o, fem! reader <3

how come, your bedroom always feels so much more smaller and slightly more searing with capitano in it? archons, look at you, you're halfway done into becoming a mess for him, feeling your difficulties to breathe as his towering frame castes a long lasting shadow on top of your goosebumps ridden body.

oh dear! his presence was simply overwhelming, right? cruelly dominating, and undeniably powerful— his cock, snugly in between your legs and twitching as he carefully slid his length over your wet cunt, unable to tear his eyes away from how nasty you've been drooling and squeezing your pussy for him.

every movement capitano makes made sense, you could even compare it to his battles. as if he thought about it more clearly, like he was attempting to shrink the space between you both while not realizing that it was simply impossible to get any closer.

fuck, you cannot stop yourself from watching him, or his pelvis being slicked up with your liquids as he slowly, with controlled breathing, presses his enormous tip inside your hole.

his broad chest heaves, his muscles flexing and tensing as your legs instantly begin to shake. well, his entire body was a monument to his strength and authority, how in your eyes truly, the first harbinger was the epitome of perfection.

"too much for you again, my love, no?" he utters, voice rough, boring his cock deep into your soul as his flesh teased all over your sloppy walls, making you wince of the constant, yet delicious burn.

your voice trembles with neediness, ecstasy as the sheer size of him was daunting your body and mind.

although you notice how only with you, his grip was firm, yes, but not painful, each movement calculated and precise, as though he's constantly aware of his own strength and would rather die than hurt the love of his life.

your hips can’t help but lean up into him, feeling the solid plane of his cock nudging at your sweet spot, exploring and conquering your pussy with slow but sharp snaps forward— so dense, in fact, that your tits bounce up and down with his powerful movements.

capitano practically molds into you, immediately fills all the space inside your cunt with the overwhelming presence of his cock rocking back and forth made you immediately dizzy— a carnal want erupting for him to pleasure you day and night, day and night.

your strong boyfriend, your pretty boy, he's so solid, so real, gripping at your hips and pressing his thumbs into your flesh— grinding himself deeper and deeper inside, like he wants you to touch yourself because you simply cannot stop thinking about wanting to rub your clit so fucking badly in combination of being so fucking full of him stretching your fluttering hole so damn nicely.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[ohbo-ohno]

Kinktober Day 1 - Breast Worship

Price x F!Reader - 1.5k (on ao3)

summary: Price pays special attention to one of his favorite parts of you. (Reader's POV)

cw: soft piv sex, price has a big dick, reader is plus-size with big tits

The slide of John’s cock inside of you is just on the right side of painful, your head thrown back against your pillows and your eyes screwed shut as he fills you slowly. 

“There we go,” he rumbles above you, calloused palm stroking your hip. “Takin’ me so well, hm?”

Your breath hitches as he bucks forward, sliding another inch deeper. “Fuck, John, yes–”

He swats your ass once, light for him but still stinging, tsking. “Language, love.” His hand drifts down further, groping at one soft thigh and petting you, your skin sensitive to the rough texture of his fingertips.

You nearly choke on a cry as he continues pushing forward, his heavy balls settling against your cunt a relief in spite of your difficulty getting in your next breath. You feel him in your guts. “Oh, God.”

He settles himself against you, chest warm and wide. Your breasts are squished a little uncomfortably beneath him, but the skin-to-skin contact more than makes up for it as he runs his hands up either side of your body, tracing all your dips and curves and giving you his weight. 

You run your hands down his back, nails scratching along his muscles as you grip him tight with plush thighs and breathe through the sensation of him so deep inside of you. Your body adjusts quickly, well-experienced at taking him inside of you even if it's always a stretch, and it only takes a few heartbeats for you to be nudging him with a foot, urging him to fuck you.

He props himself up on one hand above you, cupping your face with one massive paw and stroking your cheekbone. “Alright, love?”

You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck and tugging him down so you can press your lips to his, sharing his breath. John takes the chance to ravage your mouth as he wants, tongue stroking along yours as you leak steadily around him, cunt holding him tightly.

He tears himself away from you, head dropping to rest between your breasts, his head rising as your chest heaves. “Goddamn, sweetie, the way you squeeze me…”

You press your hand to his face now, stroking through his beard as he looks up at you, tits pressed against both of his cheeks. ”Fuck me, John,” you say, voice throaty and rough with need. 

He groans, burying his face back in your neck as he pulls out, forcing himself to go slowly if the way his grip against your hips turns nearly bruising is anything to go buy.

You cry out when he bucks back into you, filling you to the brim again. You can’t keep yourself from tearing up as he settles into a steady pace, only pulling out about halfway before burying himself to the hilt again and again, cockhead brushing your cervix on every thrust. You let the tears fall, know that John only gets more aroused the more of a mess you are for him. 

“John!” You cry at a particularly rough thrust, burying your nails into his shoulder.

He’s panting as he pushes himself above you, hands fisted against the mattress on either side of your head as he fucks you that much harder, lips twisted up in his own pleasure. His stomach presses against yours, his hair just long enough to feel soft instead of ticklish. 

“Sweet fuckin’ thing, aren’t you?” He asks, pulling nearly all the way out on every thrust now, sweat dripping down his neck. “Jesus, look at these tits.”

You gasp as he buries his face back in your chest, quickly moving to your right breast and taking as much of it into his mouth as he can. Your gasp melts into a moan at the hot suction against your nipple, fingers curling tightly through his hair and holding him close as he echoes your moan against you.

“John, John,” you pant, eyes squeeze shut as he continues to fuck you, the combination of a thick cock in your pussy and a hot mouth on your tit enough to make you feel like you’re melting. 

He’s drooling around the mouthful he’s got, pressing himself as deeply into you as he can. When he first pulls back he looks nearly feral, pupils blown wide and lips slick with his spit. He leans back just enough to look at his work, fucking you a bit more slowly now.

He grunts a moment later, shifting so one hand can cup the underside of your breast and lift as he slows to something just above grinding inside of you. You huff, the feeling of sweat-slick skin being exposed to cool air not something you particularly relish.

“Look’it that,” he breathes, brushing the irritated skin just below your nipple with a thumb.

“Beard burn,” you supply, feet twitching as you contemplate the best way to get him to move again. “Not quite as bad as chafing, it won't last long.”

He nods but you get the sense he’s not really listening, his thumb still stroking the bit of skin that’s nearly back to its normal color. He shifts then, scooting down your body now so he’s looking at your chest instead of your face.

You open your mouth to complain, needy and ready to be fucked again, but before you can get a word out he pulls his cock nearly the whole way out of you before burying himself back to the hilt, knocking any thought of speaking from your mind. 

The pace he sets now is quick and deep, the head of his cock rubbing against your g-spot on every thrust and kissing your cervix, your slick making the glide of him inside of you feel unimaginably good. Your thighs grip him tightly, knees locked around his ribs and holding on for dear life. 

He presses his open mouth to your breast, almost rubbing himself across your chest as he kisses every bit of your skin – your tits are far from small, he’s got a lot of area to cover. His spit cools quickly on you, making you shiver beneath his assault as he does his best to suck your entire tit into one mouth.

You scratch his scalp, pulling as he massages your unkissed breast with his hand, cock still fucking you open quickly enough to keep your eyes unfocused and your mouth limp. Your pant openly as he rubs his face against you, the extra sensation of his beard only driving you closer and closer to your peak. 

“Feels s-so good, John,” you pant as he moves to your other breast, kissing and biting his way across as he shifts his weight, hips never pausing. You whine a little when he massages the tit he was just abusing, the feeling of his rough hand on sensitive skin making you clench down hard on him. 

He groans above you, hips snapping against yours that much harder. You squeal when he bites your nipple, back arching into him for more as you writhe beneath him. “John!”

He’s close to feral above you, chin digging into your soft skin as he nips you with his teeth, leaving his marks behind as he seemingly tries to cover your entire chest in his saliva. The quick bursts of pain combined with the way his hands are massaging you yanks you right to the edge of orgasm, your breaths hiccupping.

“Close, close, John, ‘m close–” you gasp, nails digging into his scalp as you push against him as much as you can on your back, teetering on the edge. 

When he bites one nipple and pinches the other at the same time, you fly off it, vision nearly whiting out as you moan and squeeze him tight. Your nipples are throbbing but it only adds to the pleasure, a sharp bite of pain to contrast the sweet squeeze of him inside of you.

He loses all coordination a moment later, face dropping to rest in your cleavage again as he fucks you without thought, rough and nasty as you start to come down. You whine and cry a little more, the overstimulation wracking your body and sending goosebumps down your arms.

“Fuck, fuck,” you hear and feel him grunt into your skin, his hot cum spurting inside of you as his hips slow down, his thrusts slowing until he’s just grinding into you, cock buried as deep as it will go.

You hold tight to his shoulders, heaving beneath his heavy weight. A moment later he pushes himself up, cupping your right breast and examining it closely. 

“Pretty,” he purrs, running his thumb over the indentations of his teeth patterned over your skin. 

“Felt good,” you say, melting beneath him.

“Yeah?” He looks up at you, pupils blown and lips swollen. He glances down at the other side of your breast, smacking it lightly enough that it could almost be a tap. “Should make this one match then.”

You’re already moaning before his lips even touch your skin again.

[kiddotarot]

YOUR FACE STRUCTURE AND PLANETS RELATIONS

Explanation = 1H and 2H are the house which shows your face structure and the part of your head, voice. And any other planet which influence these houses can decide your face structure and any other combination in your planets can also effect it so you can mix different planet and can recognize your speciality. Special Thanks to jay for teaching me this much ☺️ enjoy!!!

SATURN = If your saturan is in first house or it's aspecting your 1h or it is dominating your chart then you can have some kind of marks on your face , there can be something related to teeth shape. You can always wear a mask of serious person but you can have dark humor, silly jokes is not for you . You can look much mature then your age and saturan is a dry planet so it can also make your hair dry no matter what you try or your body can have high metabolism.

MERCURY = you can have a young look or you can look more younger than your age your facial freature can never change . They can be witty childish and there hair cut will be never stable like the always experimenting with there hairs for example me . Can have big forehead, jupiter prominent people can have big forehead but in Mercury case it shows there sharp and active mind .

JUPITER= There face can always look like laughing Buddha means they can have full cheeks where ever they smile there cheeks lift up. And there body or face can have fat or high metabolism. They often find difficulties for jaw line or sharpness. If it retrogated there nose can be little crooked or sharp and big . There ear lobe can be big and soft fluffy . There ears can be big or charp if there jupiter is exalted ( pisces) again big forehead.

MARS = They always have sharp freature but if mars aspecting your 1H or its in 1H you can have problems of pimples, marks ( specially jupiter and mars have a connection) . Very sharp eyes but small . Dominated mars with Rahu or saturan or strong mars can have big eyebrows and if mars is in prominent position or your Atmakarka they can have joint eyebrows. If your eyebrows is thin then you have sun and mars connection. They can have broad sholders, angry face expression, Specially male can be attractive , strong mars can also give you big arms and chest . Waek mars can give blood imbalance. And mars and moon connection can also make you to put you hair short .

VENUS = The person can have beautiful face and sharp nose there chin can be very structured for example = Lana bel ray , venus and rahu connection people can have big eyes and almond shape eyes, these person can easily become famous or actors in there life. Thery are always changing there appearance or fashion they set the trend in the society can also go for surgery and changing freature. Jupiter and venus person can have beautiful face and full cheeks smile example = margot robbie.

MOON = These people change very fast just like moon phase and can have problems with digestive system . They can have a yellowish color of skin regarless there skin tone . They are very preety and cute . If Jupiter and moon have a connection they or Jupiter is in moon sign they can eat to much but never gain weight or eat less much but gain weight . There is no sexual attraction like venus but people can look young , preety like moon and emotional. Example = Taylor swift ( moon and jupiter connection) great smile and expressive. Moon and ketu connection can also give expressive and beautiful eyes. Moon and rahu connection can give a person over expressive nature . Venus and moon connection people are the most beautiful person.

RAHU = These person are always changing they can be hard to recognize over time can have surgery example = Kardashians . They can loose there weight very fast . If rahu is bad placed they want to change in there appearance but no one gonna notice it. There teeth can also have something different like long legs . Rahu in mars sign can give injury but they can have goid facial freature and attractive personality.

SUN = There eyes can be small , and there skin can be yellowish at the some time in there life they can have long hair but later hair lose can be problems for sure..sharp and small eyes but very expressive and sharp . They can be not so tall but have normal height. But they hold authority in there presernce and there appearance. There chest can be big and havy good and perfect and facial freature sun and jupiter connection can give them handsome and leadership qualities and looks.

[hockeyboistrash]

not a couples costume | n.h

summary: a mistaken couples costume turns into something more

a/n: so I may have gotten a bit carried away with this 🫣 I didn't mean for it to get this far. sorry it's late coming out I've had technical difficulties and work. can we also appreciate how hot nico looks in this gif

“Oh, we’re not a couple.” You said for what felt like the thousandth time tonight. It was truly a coincidence that you and Nico came to this bar dressed up for Halloween in a couples costume. You didn’t even know he would be here tonight let alone wear something that paired well with your costume. The two of you worked in the Devil’s organisation and have only spoken in passing. Whenever you did though, any train of thought would be gone. You wouldn’t be able to focus on your work for the rest of the day, his smile imprinted in your head. God you love his smile. Nico was the same. He always hoped to see you when he was walking into the arena, feeling a little deflated when he didn’t. 

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” You playfully glared at him. To be honest, you could’ve walked away from him by now and gone back to your friends, you probably should’ve, but you didn’t. You let your eyes roam his body from head to toe, from the tight shirt that hugged his muscles in the right places to his hand holding the neck of his beer bottle firmly as he took a swig of his drink. You were unabashedly checking him out. Nico wasn’t complaining though because he was doing the same thing. He loved the way your ass curved perfectly in your costume. 

“I don’t know what you’re on about.” Nico shrugged, smirking as he took a sip of his drink. 

“No one is going to want to hook up with me tonight if the entire bar thinks we’re a couple.” You pointed out. Nico’s grip tightened and his smirk fell. He hated thinking about a pair of hands roaming your body that weren’t his.

“Is that such a bad thing?” He asked. You hadn't realised how close the two of you were sitting until you felt his warm breath against your ear. “I did save you from some sleazy guy earlier.” How could you forget? That’s how you ended up in this position in the first place. Some guy wouldn’t take no for an answer and Nico swooped in, saving you from the interaction. You still remembered how his fingers felt against the bare skin of your hip, the cold making you shiver slightly. You didn’t mind though. In fact you wish it was still there.

You were brought out of this bubble you and Nico were in by a waitress sliding a jug of some colourful cocktail onto your table. “Oh we didn’t order this.” You told her and she just smiled at you.

“It’s the prize for winning the best couple’s costume.” Was all she said before walking away, picking up empty glasses from tables.

“I should really get going.” You groaned, thinking about how bad of a combination the cocktail jug is with work tomorrow.

“We can’t let this go to waste.” Nico said, pushing the drink between you, a straw facing you both. “Besides, are you going to tell coach that you left me to drink this all by myself and that's why I'm severely hungover.” 

Nico pouted slightly, his warm chocolate brown eyes giving you puppy dog eyes. He didn’t want tonight to end. Not yet anyway, afraid that this will be the last time you speak. You weren’t particularly close before tonight. “Fine.” You agreed, feigning annoyance. You weren’t annoyed that much. Sure you wanted to go home so you didn’t feel rough the next day at work but Nico wanting you to stay with him made your stomach do flips. “But this is the last drink.” You said and his pout quickly turned into a grin. It was infectious making your lips twist into a grin.

Nico’s tongue caught the stray straw, having a sip of the colourful concoction in front of you, the image giving you impure thoughts making you clench your thighs. You wondered what else his tongue could do. 

The conversation flowed between you as the jug slowly emptied. Nico talked about his summer in Switzerland, coming second in the world championships. You listened intently as  he spoke about things he loves, his lips tugged into a smile the whole time. You could sit here all night and just listen to him talk. It felt like you were making up for lost time from all those missed conversations you had before tonight. 

“Come on.” Nico said, holding his hand out for you once he stood up. You gave him a questioning look as you put your hand into his, wondering where he was taking you. It wasn’t until you stopped at the dancefloor that it clicked in your head making you giggle.

“If you wanted to dance you could’ve just asked.” You shouted into his ear, the halloween playlist filling the bar making it difficult to be heard. 

“Didn’t know if you would have said yes.” Nico admitted, blush creeping onto his cheeks not that you could tell in the dim light. 

The two of you danced, getting lost in the music. Your bodies were pressed against each other, your ass flush against Nico’s crotch, his hands gripping your hips not wanting to lose you in the crowd or to keep you against him. You welcomed it though. It felt like it was just the two of you in here. Nico pressed soft kisses along your collarbone up to your neck and along your jaw before reaching your lips. You turned around, your hands moving to caress the stubble on his jaw as you deepened the kiss. You could feel Nico’s grip loosen, his fingers lightly sliding down to the curve of your ass. It was then that the fog lifted bringing you back to the reality that you were currently in the middle of the bar making out with Nico. Nico who you work with. 

You moved your head to the side, breaking out of the spell that was cast on you. “We can’t do this.” You sighed, gently pushing Nico away making him frown slightly. “We work together.”

“Technically we work for the same organisation, not together. Besides, no one has to find out. This could be our little secret.” He said, his fingers gently tilting your chin so you were looking back at him. “If you can honestly say you don’t want this we can stop now but I think you want this as much as me.”

You bit your lip, looking at him through your eyelashes. You wish you could say that but you couldn’t because you did want this. You wanted Nico’s big hands caressing your thighs as his lips found your sweet spot. “I want this.” You told him. “I want you.”

That was enough for Nico to grab your hand and drag you out of the bar into the cold New Jersey night. The worries from earlier slipping to the back of your mind as you climbed into the Uber, Nico’s hand resting dangerously high on your thigh.

[jaebeomsbitch]

Mine (E.M.)

Summary: Possessive Eddie... that's it.

Warnings: MINORS DNI, PinV, unprotected, slight breeding kink.

A/N: No plot at all... Please let me know of other kinks for kinktober (that are appropriate (!)) that y'all would like me to write next!

*--------------·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·--------—----*

You had no indication what spurred him on. Absolutely no clue at how you’d end up tonight. Your boyfriend was horny, that was obvious from the way his hands were on your ass grabbing a handful of fat when no one would notice, fingertips sliding up the inside of your skirt tracing the line of your panties, whispered dirty words in your ear. 

That still didn’t explain how you ended up here. Your legs on Eddie’s shoulders, thighs pressed deep into your chest with Eddie’s weight. 

“Mine, you’re fucking mine” he growls, hips pistoning into you. The force jolting you up on the bed, his balls slapping into your ass, loud moans and answered “yours.”

His tongue delves into your mouth possessively trying to sear the taste of his mouth into yours. He wants you to remember the taste every second you’re not with him, remind you that you belong to him and him only. 

You were never one to want to belong to a man but when he’s nipping at your neck marking you up with hickies and grunting out “mine, you fucking belong to me.” Your heart pounds into your ribs, eyes rolling back, your slick juices sliding down to your ass in a way you’ve never felt before. 

“This fucking pussy’s made f’me. Bet no other guy can fuck you like I can, huh? Can’t this greedy little cunt up, look at her she’s fucking pulling me in begging for my cum” he groans, staring at the way your pussy swallows up his length. There’s a thick white line of your pent up juices around the base of his cock. 

“A- mmm I-“ incoherent broken noises leave your throat trying desperately to answer but your brain can’t hold onto a string of thought. Every slap of skin against skin sends a jolt up your spine, scrambling your brain further. When did he shift positions? 

His strong hands hold your thighs into your stomach, cock slamming into you so hard you lose your breath for a second. You brain feels fuzzy as you try and gasp for breath. Heaving in small puffs of air with difficulty. The loss of oxygen giving you a head high as the shocks of pleasure jolt up your body. 

Your fingers grip the sheets, your head thrashing in the pillow as you barrel towards your orgasm like a pinhole in a dam ready to break. You clench your teeth, pussy fluttering, stomach tightening. Eddie’s heavy breath and murmurs of “fucking cum slut, wanna be mine forever huh? Want me to fill you up” and “pussy’s mine, belong to me” vaguely  flits into your ears. 

The band tightens into a place you’d never thought you could reach. You heave for air, coming hard with a loud cry. You tremble under him like a woman possessed. Drool dripping down your chin, eyes in the back of your skull, back arched impossibly, jaw slacked, tongue moving wildly with gibberish.

“Oh- fuck” Eddie practically whines, the hard press of his hipbones onto your ass bringing you back down to earth as he cums inside you. You grip the sheets tighter pulling them off the corners as you feel the heat of his cum inside you. The schlick of your combined cum filling the room as he slows down with pants of his own. 

Hands letting go of your thighs leaving back red marks that will bruise tomorrow. His arms shake as he slowly pulls out of your sopping cunt, his eyes rolling back at the sight of your pussy dripping with his cum fluttering around nothing. 

He collapses besides you, arm thrown over your waist, heavy breaths into your neck. 

“Fuck” he whispers, voice raspy from all his screaming dirty talk. 

“What the fuck was that for?” You grunt, opening your eyes slowly looking down at your sweaty boyfriend. 

“Just wanted to remind you” he murmur, nuzzling into your neck.

“Well what a fucking reminder” you laugh breathlessly. 

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗛𝗢𝗖𝗞𝗘𝗬 𝗗𝗥𝗔𝗠𝗔

　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N is a hockey player of the Boston High-school hockey team, and during one of her games, her temper is tested by her opponent while her boyfriend, Matt, is watching.

WARNING: Physical fighting, blood, bruises.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Y/N adjusted the straps of her helmet and took one last look around the locker room. The muffled noise of the crowd, which already filled the gym, pulsed through the walls. The tension in the air was palpable. This game wasn't just another game of the season; it was the decisive game that would define the regional champion. And for Y/N, there was an extra motivation: Matt. Her boyfriend was in the audience, and she wanted more than ever to impress him with her performance.

While sliding across the ice during warm-ups, Y/N observed the opposing team, known for its physical and aggressive play, looked more determined than ever. Among them, one player in particular stood out: Lilian. Tall, robust, and with a look that exuded competitiveness, Lilian had a reputation for being ruthless. Y/N knew she would have to pay attention to her throughout the game.

The opening whistle sounded, and the game began with frenetic intensity. Y/N moved with agility, looking for gaps in the opponent's defense. Every pass, every deflection, was meticulously calculated.

And it didn't take long for her to find an opportunity.

With a quick sprint, Y/N escaped to the right, receiving a precise pass from her teammate and, with an elegant movement of her stick, sent the puck directly into the corner of the net.

The electric sound of the puck hitting the net was followed by a roar from the crowd. Matt, who was sitting in the center bleachers, jumped to his feet, cheering and shouting her name, a huge smile taking over his face as his hands grabbed the front of his brothers' hoodies, shaking their upper bodies with euphoria.

Y/N's confidence was high, but the game was far from won. The opposing team increased the pressure, and Lilian, especially, seemed to have fixed Y/N as her main target.

In one of the most critical moves, Lilian came forward with force, bumping into Y/N with an intensity that bordered on brutality. Y/N managed to stay upright but felt the impact reverberate through her bones.

She returned Lilian's gaze with firm determination. She would not allow herself to be intimidated.

The minutes passed, and the game became increasingly fierce. Y/N was determined to score another goal. Her ears seemed to constantly search for the loud and firm comments of encouragement that escaped her boyfriend's lips, drawing strength from there. With a combination of speed and precision, she advanced towards the opponent's goal again.

But Lilian was there, and this time, she wasn't willing to allow Y/N to pass. In a split second, Lilian collided violently against Y/N, knocking her onto the ice. The impact was so strong that Y/N felt the air leave her lungs, her hands quickly letting go of the stick and gluing to her chest covered by heavy clothes, trying desperately to take a long breath.

The referee blew the whistle, signaling a penalty, but the damage was already done.

With anger boiling inside her, Y/N stood up with difficulty, breathing harshly. She felt humiliated and enraged. Without thinking twice, the girl skated towards the locker room, ignoring the screams of her teammates and her coach, who called for her, cutting through the silence that had settled in the gym after the incident.

The door closed behind her back, muffling the sound of the crowd and the frenzy of the game, echoing like a dull thud throughout the space. In the silence of the locker room, Y/N took a deep breath, trying to control the storm of emotions that was stirring inside her.

She sat down on the main bench, removing her helmet and running her hands through her sweat-damp hair. Anger burned through her veins, not just because of Lilian's aggression, but because of the frustration of feeling like she was letting down her team and, especially, Matt. He had come to watch her play, and all she wanted was to put on a spectacular show for him.

Tears began to form, but Y/N took another deep breath, refusing to let them fall. She wouldn't give in.

The girl closed her eyes tightly, trying to center herself, but as she did so, a stab of pain appeared above her eye. A wince scaped her lips as she touched the painful area, noticing something warm and wet on her fingers. Raising them to her eye level, she saw blood.

The anger, which was already intense, intensified even more. The girl felt her blood boiling as her hands shook with hatred. The sight of blood dripping from her eyebrow was the trigger that was needed for her uncontrolled fury.

Without thinking twice, Y/N put the helmet back on harshly, ignoring the pain. She wouldn't let Lilian get away with that. Y/N got out of the locker room with firm slides, determined to show that no one would take her down without consequences.

Back on the ice, Y/N felt a new surge of energy, this time fueled by anger and the need for revenge. Her eyes were fixed on Lilian, who didn't seem to expect her to return so soon. With impressive speed, Y/N skated directly towards her opponent, leaving her coach's questions behind.

When the distance between them closed, Y/N kept going, hitting her shoulder against the other girl with all the strength she had. The impact threw Lilian to the ground, who fell onto her back, surprised and in pain, a loud cry scream echoing afterward.

The referee blew his whistle frantically, but Y/N ignored his and Lilian's screams. Her focus was absolute.

She took the puck from one of the opposing players with surprising dexterity and began advancing towards the goal. Every movement was fierce, precise. She was in a state of flux, where nothing else mattered other than the next goal.

With impressive skill, Y/N scored one after another. The crowd was in a frenzy, and the energy in the gym was electric. Matt, in the bleachers, watched everything with wide eyes, his screams standing out among the crowd. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. Y/N was playing like never before, in a way he himself had never witnessed.

With each goal, Y/N felt increasing satisfaction. She was showing everyone – her team, her opponents, the watchers, and especially Lilian – that she was really good. Blood was still running from her eyebrow, dripping onto her lips held by the mouth guard, the metallic taste flooding her tongue.

When the final whistle sounded, declaring her team's victory, Y/N felt a wave of relief flood her body. She dropped the stick on the ice floor and ripped off her helmet, taking her mouth guard off of her lips, finally breathing properly, her eyes darting around the gym as euphoria took over her body, adrenaline rushing through her veins like lightning.

It was at that moment that she saw Matt jump over the railing that separated the bleachers from the ice. The brunette ran towards her, slipping slightly on the ice, a consequence of his inappropriate sneakers, leaving behind the screams of his brothers who tried to dissuade him.

She felt her heart speed up even more, wetting her lips in anticipation.

When Matt finally reached Y/N, he quickly threw himself in front of her, raising his arms and cupping his girl's face with both hands firmly, his gaze filled with concern and love. His blue eyes scanned the cut on her eyebrow, trying to wipe away the blood on her skin with trembling fingers.

"Y/N, baby, are you okay? You're bleeding so much. Let me see this..."

Y/N, still breathing heavily, felt a wave of emotions wash over her. Before Matt could continue, she cut him off with a passionate kiss, wrapping her hands around his thick hoodie-covered waist and pulling him closer, the significant height that her skateboards provided her aiding her in her action.

It was a kiss full of intensity, relief, and love.

Matt sighed deeply, the hot air hitting the girl's cold face, causing the blush in the area to intensify, feeling enveloped by the passion and strength that emanated from her.

When they finally separated, Matt hugged her tightly, his body shaking slightly with the adrenaline that took his body along with his heart racing at a thousand miles per hour. His large hands hugged her head against his own right shoulder, his fingers stroking her tied hair gently.

"I'm so proud of you, Y/N. You were amazing. I've never seen anyone play like you played today. You were so strong, so brave..." Y/N smiled against his covered skin, feeling his hushed words warm her heart.

"It was all for you, babe. Every goal-"

"Y/N!" The coach shouted, approaching with quick, steady steps, his ice-appropriate sneakers keeping him upright. "What in God's name was that? This is a hockey game. What, are you trying out for the gymnastics team? If you do that again, you'll be out!"

Matt watched him with wide eyes, his lips pressed into a thin line in an attempt to hold back his laughter.

"Sorry, coach. I just did what I had to do." Y/N rolled her eyes, letting out a breathless laugh.

The coach shook his head, opening an almost imperceptible smile.

"You played with your heart today, kid. Just try to keep a little more control next time, okay? We don't want you to miss big opportunities."

"You got it, coach." Y/N nodded quickly, Matt's arms still holding her tightly, one arm grasping firmly around her waist, keeping her close.

"Now take her to the infirmary, boy." The coach approached, casting a glance toward Matt while patting her right shoulder.

"Yes, sir, I'll take care of her."

"You better."

taglist:

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(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)

[matan4il]

I am at a loss for words.

A Jewish woman in Paris was kidnapped, held for several days, and raped for being a Jew, and her mother was psychologically taunted and tormented, as "revenge for Palestine."

And while the perpetrator is the main person responsible for this horrific crime, every single person denying or justifying the Oct 7 sexual violence is guilty of contributing to this normalization, making this antisemitic terrorist think his excuse is in any way an acceptable justification for this atrocity. Every single person who didn't believe Jewish victims, every single person who demanded proof, but turned a blind eye to the visual evidence Hamas terrorists themselves provided, every single person who called the films and pictures and testimonies from countless Israelis "propaganda," every single person who justified it and claimed that "rape is resistance." They're all complicit. They all have to know they've helped make Jews everywhere in the world less safe.

Speaking of complicity, even though a UN report found credible evidence for the sexual crimes committed by Hamas on Oct 7 and against Israeli hostages since, the UN secretary general, Antonio Guterres, has personally decided to leave Hamas out of the annual report on sexual violence in conflicts around the world. Israeli commentators expressed their belief that this was done, because had it been included, then the UN would have no choice but to finally recognize that Hamas is a terrorist organization. The UN is complicit. Guterres is complicit. Hold them accountable.

Speaking of the UN's known anti-Israel bias, what a surprise, their report on UNRWA, their own agency, claimed not to support the charges against it, though they did find that UNRWA has "some issues" maintaining its neutrality...

Just to make it clear, "staff publicly taking sides" refers to UNRWA employees being openly anti-Israel, antisemitic and pro anti-Jewish violence, and the "problematic content" in UNRWA textbooks is incitement to terrorism and educating Palestinian kids to be antisemitic. This alone constitutes more than "some issues with neutrality." But there's more. Out of the 12 Gaza UNRWA employees first identified by Israel as having participated in the Hamas massacre, at least three were killed inside Israel on Oct 7 itself, and at least one more was captured on film while helping to kidnap an Israeli young man's body from an Israeli kibbutz into Gaza using a vehicle with UN license plates. I'd say that's a bit more than "difficulties with neutrality". In fact, the UN itself implicitly recognized the evidence was damning, or it would not have fired nine of the twelve right away, and admit a tenth UN worker was dead following the invasion and attack on Israeli communities, while claiming they're still "clarifying" the identities of the other two killed employees who participated in the Hamas massacre. BTW, it's been about 3 months of the UN "clarifying" the identities of those other two dead employees (screenshot below is from the article published 2 days ago, link with same claim on "clarification" is from Jan 27).

UNRWA is complicit. There are other humanitarian aid NGOs, which can do better. Dismantle UNRWA. But we know the UN will not be dismantling the cash cow that this agency is, even though no other refugee group gets an equal treatment to that. At what point do we say out loud, that if more and more UNRWA employees are found to be complicit in a massacre or being embedded with Hamas, if Hamas terrorists have continuously used UNRWA infrastructure to store weapons and shoot at Israelis, if UNRWA was found to be providing a terrorist organization with internet and electricity, and if the UN can't hold its own agency accountable, then the UN is also complicit in UNRWA's collaboration with Hamas?

In Israel itself, as the biggest Jewish community in the world is celebrating Passover, attacks on Israeli Jews continue.

Two days ago, on the Eve of Passover, a combined terrorist attack took place in Jerusalem, in an ultraorthodox neighborhood, with two Palestinian terrorists driving their car into a group of visibly Jewish young people, then the attackers left their car and tried shooting at their victims, but the weapon thankfully malfunctioned. Three people were lightly wounded. (the vid below shows most of the attack, but not the graphic parts of the car hitting the young Jewish men)

Yestrday, the Lebanon-based terrorist organization Hezbollah launched three suicide drones at Israel's northern communities, along its Mediterranean shore. This attack comes on the heels of the news that out of 18 Israelis wounded in a previous Hezbollah drone attack on an Israeli Arab Bedouin town, one has died from his injuries, after fighting for his life for 5 days. It's 27 years old Dor Zimel, an officer who was stationed in that town to protect it. Dor was set to get married next month, and he had proposed to his fiancee with a ring donated by a bereaved father (his son, 23 years old Addir Messika, was a jewelry designer, and the ring was one he designed before he was murdered by Hamas terrorists at the Nova music festival on Oct 7). Dor's organs were donated and saved the lives of 7 people, including an injured soldier, who's also the father of a girl. May Dor and Addir's memory be a blessing.

And today, on the second day of Passover, an attempted stabbing attack was stopped before the Palestinian female terrorist managed to harm anyone. She was neutralized at the scene.

I'm sure all those who decried Israel having to continue its war against Hamas during Ramadan are being extra loud about this wave of anti-Jewish violence during Passover, which is actually just a partial list of the on going attacks on Israeli Jews during this holiday.

In other news, the preparations for the IDF's ground operation in Rafah have actually already started. Reports suggest 250,000 Palestinians who have come to the southern city as they left other war zones in Gaza, have already left Rafah, and that Israel has already started building encampments to house those it will evacuate from the city before the ground operation begins.

Trying to remember when have I ever seen an army building an entire camp city for the enemy's civilian population. I'm coming up blank.

This is Miri Gad Mesikka.

She lives in kibbutz Be'eri, together with her husband Eli and their 3 kids. On Oct 7, they locked themselves in the bomb shelter from the invading Hamas terrorists. They were in there for 12 hours, fighting for control of the bomb shelter's door, until the terrorists set their house on fire, and the Gad Messika family had to make an impossible choice: stay and maybe suffocate to death from the smoke (or worse if the fire got in), or jump from their second floor window, probably be injured and maybe be shot to death by the terrorists. Eventually, they chose to jump out. They all got injured, and one of her sons got his leg broken, but the terrorists didn't spot them, and this decision saved their lives. During the time they were locked inside the bomb shelter, Miri recounts how she would see some of her friends and neighbors not responding anymore, and she couldn't know why. She kept hoping it was because their phone batteries ran out. "Today I know some of them were being kidnapped, while others were being murdered. It was a massacre, happening in countless different spots at the same time." One of her friends told Miri, that her daughter, a baby who was less than one years old, was shot in the head right in front of her. Then the friend's husband was murdered as well, and despite being shot with a bullet in her lungs herself, the friend somehow managed to get herself and her two other kids away.

Never forget.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[seresinhangmanjake]

Fremen Girl: Part 3

Feyd-Rautha x fremen!reader

Notes/Warnings: mentions of blood, injury, death.

Words: 1460

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag list

Feyd POV

He can’t recall a time when nerves have taken over his body the way they do now. Normally, fighting, or the thought of fighting, or witnessing a fight pumps fire through his veins. The anticipation of bloodshed and screams of pain are like the crescendo of a good high, but today, he can’t grab hold of that euphoric feeling. It’s not there, there is nothing to grab hold of, because today, it’s you fighting. 

Feyd sits beside his uncle in the stands as he watches you enter the arena, and immediately, he recognizes his first mistake. The hand not holding your blade is raised to shield your eyes from the brightness of the sun. He should have found a way to train you outside. He should have gotten you used to an environment that is much brighter than your home planet. Though he has no idea how he could have arranged that, if the blinding sunlight is the difference between your life and death, he sees no road to self-forgiveness. 

“You think to take that one for a wife?” the Baron asks as your opponents join you in the arena. The six prisoners enter from three corners, honing in on their prey, but you’ve yet to step into your fighting stance. Your body anxiously twists in all directions to take in the men descending upon you and only you, your hand still acting as a vizor from the light. “She hardly seems capable. She’ll have a blade run through her before five minutes have passed and you will have gathered the masses to witness a bore of a show just like your useless brother.”

Feyd ignores his uncle, knowing the old man speaks only to agitate him. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you as you finally prepare yourself, spreading your legs, bending your knees, and dropping your hand so it may join its twin around the blade’s hilt. 

One of the men is bolder than the others and he runs ahead. He takes the first swing at you, but you dodge him, ducking under his knife and throwing your arm out as you pass his legs. The sharp edge slices through the back of his thigh, and he instantly drops to his knees. You turn to face his back and thrust your blade downward into the crook where his neck meets his shoulder. When you yank steel from flesh, blood sprays, splattering your thin clothes, and drains down his bare chest. Feyd can see the body heave before it falls. 

There’s the girl who killed my men, Feyd thinks as a rush of claps roars through the crowd at the first death. He knew you hadn’t shown him everything you’re capable of during training. Maybe you just needed the threat of imminent danger to display your full potential. If that’s the case, then fine. Feyd doesn’t need you to prove yourself to him, he needs you to show the people of Giedi Prime the woman they will soon be bowing to. 

The next is the smallest of the six. Skinnier, shorter, but filled to the brim with fury. His anger is his mistake and it’s clear you know it. You don’t fortify yourself. Instead, you watch as he leaves behind the other fighters and charges with a scream that echoes through the arena. A side shift of your body and a quick swipe of your blade and he pauses, his arms go limp, and he stumbles past you. A wash of dark red flows from his neck.  

You rid yourself of three more. Not without difficulty, but you manage. Their bodies are littered around you, the evidence of their demise soaking your form. Your shirt sticks to your figure from the amount of blood weighing down the fabric. Your arms are dyed scarlet from layer after layer of the red fluid. With each of your steps, scarlet prints are left behind. Exhaustion is evident, but you’re not done yet.

The final man is broader, thicker, taller than you and some of the now-dead prisoners combined. He could crush your windpipe with a squeeze from one meaty hand. He could break your bones with a sharp flick of his wrist. All you have to do is stay out of his way. You’re faster and your limbs are leaner; you should be able to outrun him, but you need to move, now, before he traps you against a wall. 

You jump back from his swing, barely evading the sheer power and force that could have cut you right down the middle. Before you can recover from the attack, he leaps at you. You fall onto your back, blade skittering out of reach. Feyd swallows hard. He refuses to blink. 

“Well, this doesn’t look good for your girl, does it?” the Baron says, sucking at his pipe.

Feyd wishes he could disagree, but you haven’t found your footing. You’re crawling backward, trying to gain some distance from the predatory stalk of a confident aggressor. A blade swipes toward your face. You turn your head, receiving a slash across the cheek, and from how quickly you bleed, it appears deep. At least your head is still attached to your shoulders. 

You kick at his knee, knocking the joint out of place and momentarily rendering him unable to take another step. With the spare second, you scurry to your knife, getting your hand on it just as you’re yanked back by your ponytail. Feyd winces at your shriek, fingernails digging crescents into his palms, jaw aching from his clenching teeth.

Your head wacks against the ground and you’re eyes pinch shut. Potential concussion. You’re disoriented. You need to move. Move, Fremen Girl, Feyd internally snaps, but you’re not moving. The man towers above you, his feet on either side of your thighs. Feyd leans forward in his seat. Your eyelids slowly flutter. 

“Move,” Feyd mutters. 

The man’s whole body goes into the downward jab of his blade. He expects the pointed tip to land right between your eyes, but when you twist out of the way at the last second, it clashes with the ground. The over-expenditure of force knocks him off-balance and he falls on top of you, his chest slamming into yours, crushing you entirely.

Jumping to his feet, Feyd rushes to the edge of the balcony. The crowd is silent. He can’t breathe. Are you breathing? You better be fucking breathing, Fremen girl.

Suddenly, your knees bend and with the last of your strength, you roll the man onto his back, your thighs straddling his hips. His jaw is slack. His arms flop to his sides. Your knife is plunged into his chest. Then with both hands wrapped around the hilt, you pull out and stab into his heart once more, this time twisting the blade. 

As the crowd erupts in cheers, Feyd finally exhales. His shoulders release their tension. 

You stand on wobbly legs and wipe the back of your hand across your scarlet cheek. You’ll need stitches, but you’re alive. Feyd turns, heading for the stairs so he can meet you at your extraction from the arena.

“Not yet, nephew,” the Baron stops him. 

Feyd glances over his shoulder to find his uncle’s gaze still fixed on where you stand. Feyd’s brow pinches and he eases back to the balcony railing as three more prisoners stumble into the arena. The crowd dies into silence. His head whips to his uncle. 

“What is this!” he spits. “What did you do! She’s done!”

“She is done when I say she’s done,” the Baron says, sucking at his pipe once more. “Now sit down and watch the show, or should she live, I will give her to Rabban.”

“You will not!” Feyd shouts. “All of Giedi Prime knows the challenge you set and she met it! She is mine now and I say she's done! Bother Rabban if you want more entertainment!”

The Baron won’t argue further, not now. People were shocked enough that Feyd’s first potential bride would have to face six prisoners compared to the three for his brother’s brides. Whispers of gossip were uncontrollable and even managed to make their way through the halls, passing from servant to servant. They questioned the integrity of the Trial if centuries-old rules could be changed for one woman, and altering them again after you’ve won would be a great disappointment to all who witnessed. The Baron’s thirst for excitement has made him forget that, but Feyd is happy to remind him. 

The crowd suddenly gasps and Feyd turns his head. You’re trying to step away from the prisoners, but those steps are wobbly. The knife has slipped from your grasp. Feyd rushes off to the entrance of the arena.

[wikiritmica]

[that-one-p00k1e]

Just Like a Movie Scene, Table for Two

Their love language towards you - Obanai, Giyuu, & Sanemi x reader (separate) | part 1

TW: most likely OOC

Been getting lazy lately, might start writing for Mashle Idk😞 Also Giyuu's part ended up being wayy longer than intended😢

Obanai Iguro - Gift Giving & Quality Time

Not much needed to say here tbh, it's quite obvious from how he treats Mitsuri.

Due to his traumatic past, he nurtured a distaste for women. To add to that, most females in the Corps were weak and lacked physical strength, furthermore skills in hunting demons. Thus, he looked down upon them even more. But once he finds a girl who could light his candle, he'll pour every ounce of himself to give her the love he thinks she deserves. It'll take time for him to open up to you, but the signs wouldn't be discreet.

He'll give you gifts from time to time, offer you to hang out with him or have lunch together. He'll listen to you talk your heart out, admiring the way your face lights up as you tell him how your day went. You mostly did the talking, he just occasionally hummed or nodded to indicate himself paying attention. If possible, he'll take every chance to spend any unoccupied time with you. Your bright and beaming presence had become one of his escapes from the dark and bitter reality of this world. 

During those times together, he'll take mental notes of all the things you mentioned you like, and always put it into consideration when deciding on a gift for you. He'll find a way to combine the different things you adore into one form of a present. It may take him quite the effort and time to put his mind into it and figure out a conclusion, but it never goes to waste as long as he could bring out that beautiful smile in you.

Giyuu Tomioka -  Acts of Service & Quality Time

He is no less than a man of few words; having difficulty interacting with others. Thus, when it comes to commitment in a relationship, he'd prefer to execute it through physical effort rather than going vocal. Other than not being able to express his feelings verbally, he believes actions tend to speak louder than words. He would be the kind of person that pays attention to the smallest details of your body language. Had you made subtle gestures of discomfort, he'll take notice of it rather quickly and immediately tend to it.

Once, he was in the middle of listening to your daily rambling when he saw how you kept rubbing your hands together and occasionally placing it on your neck, presumably seeking warmth. Without much thought, he took off his haori and placed it around you, making sure to cover your hands with its long sleeves. “You're cold.” If he could, he would've cupped your hands by now to provide further comfort. Unfortunately, he knew well that his hands were no less colder than the weather itself; not to mention how unaccustomed he also was to physical contact.

Being in the position of a Hashira means holding many great responsibilities; the more responsibilities to bear, the less time available to be spent together alone. Hence why Giyuu tries his best to see you whenever he can. If he had an empty schedule for the day, his first thought would be spending it with you. He'd take you out on a walk around town and market at night, and get you things he noticed your eyes have taken interest upon (despite your resistances and denial). If not in the mood for a crowded environment, you two would sit together somewhere more  secluded, like a pond located in the woods.

He was glad that you were the one who always started the conversation, knowing how he could only do otherwise. Though even if there were to be silence itself between the two of you, no sense of awkwardness could infiltrate the comfort you both had by simply being in each other's presence.

Sanemi Shinazugawa - Physical Touch

He may not admit it, but he's often touch-deprived.

It was agony for him to hold back the urge to come up to you and just circle his arms around your waist whenever he saw you; his ego and pride refusing to let his guard down. He didn't want to seem weak, to let his well-known indifference falter and be viewed as soft in the face of others. Yet, behind closed doors, he clings to you like his life depended on it. He's been craving your touch for the whole day, especially after having to put up with lower-ranked slayers who drained his mental energy (berating them to death).

He'd come home falling into your arms, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he finally could let his muscles loose. The two of you would tell how each other's days went, with him laying on your abdomen as you played with his hair. He tried his best to stay awake and keep listening to you, really, but the feeling of your fingers skillfully easing the nerves in his head through the scalp was driving him to the edge of falling into slumber. Eventually, as the fatigue was too strong to be fought back, he finally surrendered and let his mind drift off to sleep, all in the while of your melodic voice.

[anantaru]

⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ ACE OF SPADES

part two. | rich boy aven masterlist.

synopsis. ⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ your first date with rich boy aventurine is more fun than you initially expected, who knows where things will go from there // ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝⸝⸝ᐢ꒱ ♡

cw. fluff, slightly suggestive, rich boy au, reader wears a dress, flirty aventurine, a/n. this will have a part two if you can't tell, fem! reader ♡

you turn your face to the left and let your visual perception take in the luxurious casino you've been invited in— undeniably, your first reaction was dedicated to the chimes of whistles of various slot machines announcing wins and losses, in combined action with racketing noises of their shafts being pulled.

your jaw parts and your eyes grow, it felt surreal to stand here with an expensive dress hugging your body tight, a small gift from your date, nothing more, nothing less. rich boy aventurine slowly slides his palm over the back of your hand to lure your thoughts back to himself as he intertwines his fingers with your own.

you stiffen, it didn't take a genius to notice that you were slightly nervous about your first date with the infamous gambler. if only he would've picked a better place to get to know each other— alas, in a way it was exactly what you've expected.

well yes, aventurine choose the probably, most unromantic spot for a first date— but, you got a dress as a gift, together with an embellished necklace and a free entry to a luxurious, private casino.

so, did you really mind? hmm, not really. in fact, it was quite unique and exciting to be here, you also felt safe by his side, and especially intrigued to get to know more about his, quote on quote, playground.

men, or how people called them here; high rollers in pretentious suits, glide like sharks over the soft tumble of the dice. it's all very crowded and distracting, needless to say it was interesting to witness, but you notice how your heart was thumping faster, that's when you began to feel yourself getting difficulties to breathe evenly.

snugly pressed against aventurine, you walk past the shrill murmur of crowds and bells of roulette wheels as the gambler spins you towards his chest, his hand carrying on to hold yours gently, "are you okay? you look a little nervous," he says nonchalantly, although his handsome voice told you a different story, an affectionate perception, "our table is right there, we can take a seat and talk if you want. "

your gaze slowly shifts to where aventurine was pointing his head towards as you look at a large table right next to the exclusive sight of exquisite gold and silver fountains and statuaries. this must've cost a fortune, you were certain that this area alone was the most breathtaking one.

you awkwardly glare up at him, your breathing picking up on tempo, "of course, but..." your last note was drawn out as aventurine cocks a curious brow at you, "would it be okay to excuse myself for a bit?"

you continue shortly, fists balled, "it's a little stuffy here, you see, i'd love to take some fresh air without bothering you about it,"

in all honesty, the air was, well, utterly despicable. the lofty mixture of overpriced cologne and sweat penetrated your nostrils to the point where it began to ache and scratch your brain.

despite the fact that everything was overwhelming in its entirety.

being embarrassed by your human reactions might be an imprecise wording and false emotion to feel, you shouldn't feel bad about this. although you felt awkward and uneasy to ask aventurine if you could take a swift breather outside.

what if he found you to be boring now? or even worse, ungrateful when it was him who made it possible for you to see something like this in the first place.

a high class casino that could never be visited by the ordinary.

he looks at you through his glasses and you could swear his eyes had a mellow glow, a tender glimmer of serenity as his lips carve into a handsome smile, "oh of course, lets go right away so you won't get nauseous," he utters out, his stomach sitting heavy with lead and eagerness to look out for you.

you freeze for a second, "uh, wait, i really don't want to ruin this night for you," and sigh, letting your gaze wander around everywhere but his direction before tapping out a nervous rhythm against the soft marble on the floor.

all aventurine does was laugh airily, "you're adorable,"

"you're not ruining anything, in fact, you really couldn't, even if you tried,"

ugh, everything about you is just so pretty, you're sweet and angelic and he's glad he's bought this dress for you, it fits you like a second skin— aventurine takes note of your beauty, he stores it into the most important places in his brain so he could dream about you later.

memorize how this dress looks on you. closer and closer.

"but here, take my jacket, okay? it's rather cold," he flips his jacket down his shoulders before draping it over your own before suddenly closing the distance from his lips to your ear— silent, there's a voice next to your skin, it's deep, handsome and smoking hot. barely above an octave as it holds a teasing verge to it, "i wouldn't want you to catch a cold, yeah?"

you hum in agreement as you rest your hands above his clothed chest, butterflies storm through your belly and settle heavily inside as aventurine wraps one arm around your waist, his breath wafting around your lovely lips.

you felt the need to kiss him, and so did he, feel the same towards you. for a moment, you two linger feeling each others warmth a little longer, relishing in your precious attempts to getting to know each other better. it's slightly awkward, you could tell that aventurine noticed how your eyes were fighting the urge to keep admiring him.

yet, he's not complaining— he could never, not when you're so cute, and your touch on him was consistently warm, your trace firm but confident, content and safe.

he hopes you will enjoy yourself tonight, and maybe, only maybe, you will invite him over to your place later.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[lovelywyenn]

”Sensitive Girl”

★Toxic!Obanai Iguro x fem!Reader★ Synopsis★There was something Obanai found so beautiful in getting one of the strongest Hashira to whine and cum just from his tongue★ Includes★Bad decisions, making out, cheating, toxic relationships, cream pies, missionary sex, penetrative sex, titty worship, nipple play, nipple sucking★ ★W.C★3.3k

Obanai didn't do what he did for praise.

Slaying demons wasn't something he did to fuel his ego or feel better about himself. He didn't accept praise from his comrades. Obanai didn't take gifts counsel men offered after he beheaded the demon that slaughtered their daughter and sons.

So what was different about this time?

He had been on his way back home after a long mission of high difficulty, body bruised but necessarily battered. When he encountered a demon, attempting to eat a little girl. She cowered against the tree, she couldn't have been any older than six or seven.

Killing the demon was easy. It was weak, barely put up a fight against Obanai’s blade.

He comforted the girl, settling her on his back. Her shrill voice echoes in his ears as she directed him back home. But soon her directions were useless. He remembered this area very well. Obanai visited this village often, long ago.

Turns out the village leader had a daughter since the last time he came here. And was eternally grateful that Obanai had found his little girl.

He offered Obanai a celebration, in his honor, the following Friday night. And of course, the slayer was ready to refuse accordingly.

Until he saw movement in the corner of his eyes. It was a flash of a second, but he saw all he needed to see. Warm eyes and the ends of a pink kimono.

And suddenly his answer was yes.

—-------------------------

Walking into the celebration a few days later was a welcoming feeling. There were baked goods from almost every mother in the village laid out just for him, and village men shaking his hand in awe whenever they encountered him. The village kids swarmed him everywhere he went, begging to hear stories or his adventures as a swordsman. He told them, watered down versions of course. There’s no reason the kids needed to know the harsh reality of his job.

The night was fun so far, now with a belly full and social battery running low. Obanai found refuge in a corner. Of course you were feeling the same way. You were just like him in so many ways, but different all the same.

Your eyes, trying to stare at him with hatred, gazed up at him. He smirked, staring right back at you, noting that no smile graced your face in return.

“You don't look happy to see me” he says after what feels like years of charged silence.

“Because I'm not, you think you're funny, huh?” you question, anger building up in you.

But Obanai shrugs, having the audacity to laugh, “Just a little” he says.

“You hate parties so why the hell are you here?” you demand to know.

And Obanai answers you, though he thinks the answer is obvious, “I wanted to see you, it's been a while”

Your fists clench, “oh so you got the inkling to come see the woman you supposedly ‘love’ after 2 years!” You yell.

The anger in your voice gathered some of the village people's attention and Obanai was quick to pull you away to a quieter, more private area. He could tell you weren't done yelling.

“What?! “ you yell, furiously snatching your arm away from him, “ don't want the whole village to know what an asshole you are!”

“C'mon Y/n don't be like that” Obanai says to you, “we could always take the time to just catch up”

He grabs two glasses of wine, sitting on a nearby table, sliding one into your delicate hands. Obanai always did have such a way with words. A handsome man, with a smooth tongue was the perfect combination to make you hate yourself in the morning.

And he never failed to make you do so.

You and Obanai’s history was complicated. Just thinking about it gives you a booming headache. He had wandered into your village and swept you off your feet. He had you wrapped around his finger….and his cock in no time.

Too busy lost in pleasure to realize he was only using you for his.

But you fell for it everytime, let him make you think he loved you.

But after he left, you managed to get yourself together. Realized you were worth more than the way he treated you. You started to do the things you loved again. Found a man who treated you the way you wanted to be treated.

Sure he wasn’t as rich as Obanai, (And his cock didn’t fill you as deep), but he was sweet, exactly what you needed to heal your broken heart.

Yet here you were, drinking and being stupid enough to laugh with the man who had consumed your mind all these years. As if he wasn’t going to disappear in the morning.

As the night carried on, and the village children’s bedtime came around, the party fizzled down. Now it was strictly adults all stunk with the stench of alcohol.

“I should probably go” you say, placing your second glass on a nearby table. You preferred not to drink much, it was embarrassing to be such a lightweight.

Obanai, on his third glass, didn’t have that problem. He always did know how to handle his alcohol.

“Why stop the fun now” your ex speaks, taking another sip on his glass, “We were having nice conversation”

You nod, “Annoyingly, you’re not wrong. But my boyfriends probably worried about me, I should head-”

“Boyfriend?” Obanai interrupts you, and you recognize that glint in his eyes.

“Uh, yeah…It’s been two years, I wasn’t gonna wait on your ass forever” you roll your eyes.

Obanai scoffs, “Like he could ever compare to me”

And you cross your arms, “He can’t compare to you, cause he’s not an arrogant asshole!” you sneer.

“Yeah, Yeah, keep talking doll. He doesn’t have the cash, the status, or the dick to keep up with you” Obanai says.

The crude words have heat shooting up your neck and creeping to your cheeks, “I’m leaving” you groan, turning to walk away. And he doesn't stop you. Letting you go back to whatever loser you had thought was better than him.

“And I’m not” Obanai muttered under his breath as soon as you were out of ear shot.

—-------------------------

To your horror, Obanai had somehow found a reason to stay in your village.

For a whole week.

He had convinced your village leader that he needed a place to stay for a few nights, even presented him with a compensation gift for the trouble. Typical Obanai, getting his way with his money. Didn’t help that he coincidentally got to stay in a room at the nice old lady’s house across the way from your own.

Suddenly the man seemed to have a heart of gold because everytime you so much as looked out the window, or stood next to one. You got the view of the man shirtless, tending to the old lady’s garden.

You knew obanai very well, he wasn’t planting roses and harvesting tomatoes to be helpful. He was doing it to rub in the fact that only *his* strong arms could hold you down the way you liked. That only his scarred lips could kiss you just right. That *he* was the only man for you.

The worst part was. The displays were starting to get to you. What you would usually scoff at and look away from. Was drawing your attention.

And soon you couldn’t stop thinking about it. The way he used to touch you. How his tongue would trail down your body, focusing right on your pretty tits just the way you craved.

The need for him was consuming you. Just like it had two years ago. And you almost felt bad.

After all you were doing what you thought was a subtle tease right back at himk. Removing your kimono in front of a window you ‘accidentally’ left open. Freeing your hair from its ponytail, having it out and wild the way he liked.

It was like a game of cat and mouse. You had promised yourself you would stop playing your role as the rodent, letting the predator catch you and push you into the mold you had worked so hard to break out of.

But the straw breaks when your boyfriend has to leave town for a while.

Obanai had knocked on your door, sweaty with rough hands and you were already half naked. Underwear is the only thing keeping your dignity.

Though if you had any form of respect for yourself. You wouldn’t have let him in, and you wouldn’t have given into him.

Your boyfriend flashed into your mind as you scooted closer to Obanai on the couch, but as soon as your ex’s hand cradled your face, all you could focus on was the hunk of man in front of you.

The man you were dating was so sweet. He treated you well, like a princess. But maybe, just maybe you weren’t meant for love. Maybe what you deserved was Obanai. To be used as a toy for the night and be abandoned in the morning.

His lips found yours with pretend care, that you fell for everytime. And yours met his with leftover love you had convinced yourself was gone. You let him cradle your body, tongue easily taking control of the kiss as he sets you back against your sofa.

your hands graced the larger man's shoulder. He had somehow grown stronger than he was before. It was nice to finally touch what you had been admiring all week. What you had been yearning to feel again for nearly two years.

The two of you only pull away from the kiss when the need for air outweighs your desire. Obanai could kiss you, his tongue plunged deep down your throat, for hours. So you pulled away first, looking up at him.

Your face was flushed, just as the rest of you was. Everything was hot, everywhere was hot as you looked up at the man hovering over you.

His eyes were dark with lust, panting.

“W-we shouldn't do this…” you say, the weight of your words heavy in the air.

“I know” Obanai says.

And he's kissing you again, hands groping and fondling whatever he could reach. His kisses trail down your body, and the thrill of the moment sends a nasty shiver flowing down to your spine.

Your whines grew into soft moans when his hand came to cup your tits, your bra doing nothing to make you less sensitive. Obanai could already feel your nipples pebbling under the fabric between him and your tits. If this was the past, he would have taken his time with you. Kissed down your body slowly, worship your breasts and get you wet enough for him to slip in with no resistance.

But this wasn’t then. It was now. And he didn’t feel like waiting anymore. Skilled hands unclip your bra, throwing it somewhere. Then his lips were pressing over your tits. Mouthing over the flesh. Your back arches up into him. It had been…a long while since someone had focused on what you really liked.

There was nothing Oanai loved more than your pretty moans getting loud and nasty. Seeing your eyes dull over with nothing but need for him. Nothing in that pretty little head of yours but him. All it took was a flick of his tongue on your nipple and you were all his.

It was something you had discovered your first time with the Hashira on top of you. Your tits were sensitive, so sensitive just staying like this for a while and had you cum just as you would on his cock.

It didn’t help that he sucked just as he would on your clit, teasingly biting and sucking. Warm tongue rolling your nipple around while his free hand plucked and pulled at your other.

You couldn’t help but squirm, couldn’t help but tangle your hands in his hair and pull him closer. Praises of how good he was making you feel tumbling from your lips as your worries of your boyfriend slipped out of your head. Replaced by the man you had convinced yourself you’d never care about again.

The thin fabric of your panties was soaked in no time, uncomfortably so in fact. And now all you could think about was how easily Obanai could slide in now. Dick you down the way you hadn’t been in so long.

“Baby?.....” you pant, urging his head away from your chest.

He reluctantly relents and sits up, eyes staring into yours. His pupils were blown out too. And just like you couldn’t seem to think of anything but him whenever the two of you were together. What you didn’t realize is you had the same effect on him. Obanai could never get enough of you.

You can’t help the way you pull him in for another kiss, his strong hand bracing himself on your hip. “What do you need doll?” he mutters before letting you pull him in again, your own words whispered in the kiss.

“I need it” you whine and the words make him grin as he answers the way he knows will make your eyes roll.

“I know” he tells you, pulling away from your lips just to leave sloppy, messy kisses down your neck. While you're moaning, cradling his head closer to your neck, Obanai’s hands are reaching for your panties, inching them down your body. You lift your hips up and he presses a kiss to your jaw as a thank you.

He doesn’t even bother pushing your underwear all the way off, letting them dangle off your ankle as he throws your right leg over his shoulder to make more room for himself on the small couch.

By now he’s pulled away from your neck, looking down at the mess of you he’s made. Your skin is flushed, hot to the touch. Pretty bruises bloomed over your skin, bound to turn a nasty purple the next day. Not that he cared, he hoped your little boyfriend would go away after this anyway.

Your eyes watched as he reached into his boxers, pulling out his cock. It was always such a pretty sight. Thick and hard, that delicious upward curve trailing up to his pretty pink tip. It was embarrassing how bad you wanted him in you right now.

But of course Obanai was as mean as always, tapping his tip on your clit. Your hips jumped up at him, the moan leaving you not warranted by his actions.

“Wow” he says in awesome as he started to rock himself between your slit, fucking himself inbetween your folds, “This might be the wettest I’ve ever gotten you”

Your cheeks flush, not that he cares, still talking just as nasty as he always did, “Seriously do you hear yourself?” he speaks, leaning down to muffle your moans with a kiss as the sounds of your slick permeate throughout the room.

The sound was filthy. Your cunt really was sloppy. But that’s exactly what he wanted. You gasp when he finally slips inside of you, and you both moan from how quickly he bottoms out. Obanai doesn’t know how after all these years you’re still as tight as the first time he fucked into you. Warm, snug walls encasing him. You were the only woman he’d been with that had him trying not to cum too early.

The two of you thought the sounds from before were nasty but it was nothing compared to now. The constant plap plap plap of his hips rutting into yours was worse. He was so mean with his thrusts too. Not even bothering to start off slow, feeding you rough thrusts straight from the start.

You had your lip bitten tightly between your teeth, a hand resting on his bicep. Obanai winces, with a smile on his face as your nails claw into his arm. “That good doll?” he laughs.

And you don’t even care to chide him, not when he was this deep inside of you, tip running along the spot along your gummy walls that has you swearing you could see every star in the night sky.

“F-Faster” you beg and Obanai obliged. His pace in your cunt fastening. It was so easy to move within you. A little too easy.

When his cock slips out the first time, you watch him guide his cock back in restarting the pace. It was fun to see you so desperate, impatient for his cock, the only thing on your mind right now. When he slips out again he takes his sweet time tracing his tip around your entrance, enjoying the frustrated sighs leaving you. But with an eye roll you reach down and push him in yourself, other hand on his hips urging him to continue.

He does of course, having mercy on you and making sure his thrusts out are a bit more shallow. Wouldn’t want to make such a pretty girl mad.

Your cunt clenches as Obanai’s leans down to wrap his tongue around your nipple again, plucking and suckling on it as if his life depended on it. You moan as his hips grinded into you, circular motions making your toes curl as he plays with your tits. Just when he thinks you can’t get any tighter you do, gripping his cock to the point where his hips stuttered a little bit. He swore you were the only girl he ever struggled to not cum too fast with.

Good thing you were close, he could always tell because you would start spurting out nonsense. Anything from apologies, to thank you’s to jumbled up whines of his name. Whatever it was, it was gorgeous to him, nothing was hotter than hearing you scream his name.

“You gonna cum baby?” he asks you and you nod your head. You were so close you could feel it coiling in your stomach. You just needed that one extra push over the edge.

Seemingly, Obanai could read your mind, because his other hand joined the play on your tits, turning the one he wasn’t torturing with his tongue.

You cum with a pornographic moan, clutching onto him tightly. Obanai wants to smile, laugh at the way you twitch pathetically under him. But just feeling you cum around him had him tumbling right over the edge with you.

He was gonna ask, inside or outside, but it was too late. By the time he remembered the question he had already stuffed you full, fucking his nut deep inside of you.

Luckily you didn’t seem to mind, moaning as your urge your hips up, as you urge him to fuck his cum deeper into your cunt. Just trying to prolong the pleasure before you have to really think about what you two just did.

—-------------------------

Post nut clarity really is a bitch. Especially for you. When you wake up the next morning in your bed, you want to smile, Obanai had been so sweet taking care of you afterwards. Running you a bath, making you food, holding you to sleep as the two of you actually talked.

But of course, when you woke up, there was a note next to you. The same one he had left you all those years ago. That he had a mission to go on and he’d see you soon. But you wouldn’t let yourself get your hopes up waiting for him, not again.

You would dump your boyfriend and probably avoid finding the other. Just to ease the guilt when he comes around to fuck with you again.

Sigh, if only real love turned me on.~ Kinktober Masterlist|2024

Taglist: @nousija, @miiiturix, @kittylovecatssuff

[catboyieejeno]

wet dream -> mark lee (m)

contents: mark x gn! reader, no pronouns but reader has female anatomy, smut without plot, no relationship established, handjob, guided masturbation, oral (m receiving), pet names, cumshot, dirty talk (?) wc: 1k

masterlist

18+ minors do not interact !

⋆ ★

the sight of you, sprawled between his legs with your ankles crossed in the air and a single finger tracing the skin on his thigh is straight out of a wet dream. you’re a sight for sore eyes, a vision of ecstasy, with your pretty plump lips parted and your blown out pupils focused solely on his hand that pumps his cock.

“does that feel good?”

mark nods his head quickly, but your mouth folds into a disapproving frown.

“use your words, mark. tell me how nice your hand feels.”

there’s no way you’re real, he thinks.

hell, how is he supposed to think straight with your naked body on his, much less answer you coherently? do you even know how dry his mouth has run? or that your plush breasts are pressing into his thighs and driving him crazy?

he blinks his half-lidded eyes at you once and clears his throat before finding his voice, "it feels so good, baby."

the pout on your lips quickly shifts into a smirk and you bring both of your hands forward, placing them on his thighs and sliding up towards his abdomen, then back down.

"mm, tease your tip for me."

it's fucking ironic, the way your tone is sweeter than nectar, but your words are tainted with filth. his dick twitches as if it had heard you, dreading the way his owner would carry out your instructions with no objection. twenty minutes had passed since you subjected him to this, and he was so desperate to come that he could feel the ache in his bones.

mark spares his red, swollen head an apologetic glance before bringing his fingers up and rubbing it, a shaky breath escaping his parted lips. he watches your face carefully, desperate for your approval.

the best part, he decides with some mild-to-moderate difficulty, is that he can tell this feels good for you too—that you're enjoying this just as much as he is, if not more.

he's noticed it all: the way you've been squeezing your thighs together, how your breathing has become labored, and how even though you're not touching yourself, your body and face are covered with a thin layer of sweat.

he thinks you're the prettiest thing ever, and he can't wait to come on your face.

that thought, combined with his hand wrapping around himself and squeezing brings him so close to edge that he gasps, but your hand flies out to stop him.

"i didn't say you could finish yet,"

"what?!" he pants, eyes widening, "baby, please. i'm so close."

it's tempting to give in to him, but you shake your head nonetheless, "just a little longer. i like making you feel good."

slowly, you move your hand and his, guiding it up and down his length for a few seconds, before slipping them both completely off. he involuntarily bucks his hips up to chase the feeling, letting a hiss slip through his tightened teeth as he mourns loss of contact.

"baby-"

"i know, i know," you coo, and he watches tentatively as you shift to hover above him.

your gaze remains locked on his expression long enough to watch the way his brow dips down into a crease, before shifting towards his cock to direct your aim. your jaw tightens, working to gather some spit to the front of your mouth and as soon mark realizes what you're doing, he holds his breath.

then, you let it fall from your lips, landing your spit over the very center of his slit where your finger swipes once to spread it, and both of you watch in awe as it spills down the side of him, trickling along his shaft.

when your hand finally wraps around him again, he fully moans, loudly, shamelessly, eyes rolling back in pure bliss.

you're gonna be the fucking death of him, and he would die the happiest man on earth.

"oh, my-" he whines, "faster, please,"

when you oblige, his hands start shaking. perhaps he didn't think you'd actually do it, since you'd been teasing him for the better part of an hour. but alas, he was wrong, and thank god for that.

within seconds, he's grasping at the bedsheets and even at his own hair in search of anything that can tether him before he floats away. there are no thoughts in his head anymore; you've got him squirming helplessly, pathetically.

his voice is strained and his speech is slurred, almost unintelligible as he asks for more. the moment your lips wrap around him to appease his request, it's almost too much. he can't tear his eyes away from you, completely mesmerized by the way you're taking him into your mouth and swallowing around him.

the tears that slip from your eyes and your tongue that swirls around him make him so dizzy that he's seeing stars. he can feel how close he's getting, he's almost there. how were you doing this?

mark squeezes his eyes shut for a few seconds to help his blurring vision so he can manage one last, clear look at you in hopes that it will push him over the edge. and oh, it does exactly that.

when you lift mouth off of him with a pop and stick out your tongue to catch his cum, he falls apart. there's no warning, only the air hitching in his throat; thick stripes of white paint your face as he finishes, chanting your name like it's a prayer, and it may as well be.

he doesn't know how long his orgasm lasts, just that by the end of it, his legs are trembling and his fingertips have gone numb.

he's barely recovering when your thumb wipes at some of the fluid on your cheek, drawing it towards your mouth for a taste.

"you look beautiful," you giggle, feeling like you've never been more honest about anything in your life. if looks could kill, you'd be watching him from beyond the grave. his hair's a mess, chest flushed red and heaving, cheeks tinted a similar shade to match. his cum tastes sweet on your finger, and he's looking at you like he just won the lottery. yeah, he's certainly the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.

and you? you're definitely better than any wet dream he could ever have.

⋆ ★

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Pain & Violence

REFERENCES (Types of Physical Pain; Levels of Pain; Showing vs. Telling Pain; Physical vs. Emotional Pain; Tips for Writing about Pain; Consequences; Limitations of Agony; Types of Violence in Writing; Tips for Writing Violent Scenes; Research; Killers & Criminals; Ethical Portrayal; Other Notes)

Types of Physical Pain Choosing the Right Word

Commonly understood descriptors can be useful when writing about pain.

Semino references the 1971 McGill Pain Questionnaire and summarizes author Ronald Melzack’s categorization as follows:

​Physical damage via insertion of pointed object - stinging, pricking, boring, drilling, penetrating

Physical damage via the application of sharp objects - sharp, cutting, lacerating, stabbing, lancinating, piercing

Physical damage via pulling/tearing - tugging, pulling, wrenching, drawing, squeezing, tearing

​Physical damage via the application of pressure/weight - pinching, pressing, crushing, tight, heavy

Malevolent animate agent whose actions may cause physical damage - punishing, cruel, vicious, torturing, gnawing, killing

High/low temperatures - hot, burning, scalding, searing; cool, cold, freezing

Meanings to do with movement - beating, pounding, jumping, shooting

​Emotional or affective dimensions - ​wretched and annoying

Other words for "pain"

Levels of Character Pain

A character’s pain isn’t a one-size-fits-all prescription. When you’re writing pain in a story, it’s important to consider the types of experiences your characters may have.

LOW / MILD

Your character feels this pain but does not bother them too much.

Use words like sting, stiffness, pinch, etc.

Mild pain might include:

A tension headache

A dull sciatic ache

A small flesh wound

MEDIUM / MODERATE

This kind of pain is disturbing enough that it creates a problem for your character (e.g., inability to concentrate during an exam).

Use words like throb, ache, hurt, etc.

Moderate pain might include:

Non-life threatening injuries

Migraine headaches

Severe pain partly healed

HIGH / SEVERE

This goes for pain that is so bad it makes your character abandon whatever they were doing.

Use words like anguish, throes, torturous, etc.

Severe pain might include:

Injuries that are life-threatening

Violent injuries concentrated in one place

EXTREME PAIN

Completely immobilizes your character; keeps them focused on it and treating it.

Use words like racking, ripping, harrowing, etc.

Take Note:

Metaphors will have their place on this scale.

But avoid using more than one level of pain.

Example: if you like “punishing”, don’t combine it with “ripping” in one metaphor.

Showing vs. Telling Pain

Avoiding “telling” things to your reader as much as possible allows them to experience sensations—positive and negative—right beside your characters.

This helps them feel more engaged with the story.

Example

Telling: "His toes hurt."

Showing: "He leaned on his heels to keep his weight off his raw toes."

Physical vs. Emotional Pain

Your characters will probably experience both physical suffering and emotional distress at some point during your story.

The brain often processes emotional and physical pain in very similar ways. Example:

Anxiety and heartache can lead to sharp chest and muscle pain, rawness in the throat, and difficulty breathing.

This isn’t just an illusory sensation; in extreme cases, emotional pain can lead to a real heart attack—this is called stress cardiomyopathy, or “broken heart syndrome.”

When you’re writing about difficult emotions, consider the ways they might manifest in your characters’ bodies.

Physical pain has an adverse effect on our emotional state. Examples:

Think about the emotional reactions your characters might have to physical suffering.

If our bodies are damaged, we’ll probably be in a bad mood and may have trouble concentrating or remembering things.

Exploring the mental and emotional effects of physical pain can help you “show, not tell” the full scope of your character’s hurt.

Writing Tips: Your Characters' Pain

Turn your character’s pain into an obstacle.

Give the pain its own arc. Example: If your character was hurt in a bar fight, they will feel the effects long after.

Pain is not constant. There will be moments when it feels horrific and moments where it feels more manageable.

Some characters may even experience a “phantom pain,” which is where the body psychosomatically remembers an injury even after it’s healed.

Treat your characters as human. If your characters’ injuries aren’t having a real, measurable impact, they become nothing more than costumes.

Your characters need to have limits. Otherwise, there's nothing at stake:

This is true even for characters that aren’t technically human, or human in the way we understand—such as mythical creatures or superheroes. Their limitations may be different than ours, but they will still have a breaking point.

Find the right words. Every good story has at least one scene where a character is hurt—whether that’s physically, emotionally, or some blend of the two. When you learn how to write pain convincingly and authentically, you make your story feel that much more immersive and intimate to the reader.

Be careful not to mention the pain too frequently. A good range is to bring up the pain from once each chapter to once each scene.

Questions to consider:

How has this character experienced pain before?

How long does it take for them to recover?

What's at stake?

The Pain's Consequences

Think about how you might show physical and emotional reactions rather than telling the pain. Examples:

If your character’s pain is crushing, you might express this by showing him struggling for breath; if it’s gnawing, you might have him bent and holding his belly.

What if instead of being told that the character is in agony, we learn that he doubles over, falls to his knees, vomits, or blanches?

Perhaps he experiences a white-out, or loses control of his bowels.

What about the sounds he makes … or those he doesn’t because he’s rendered voiceless?

How does the pain move and what does it look like?

Some of these reactions may be brutal, but the injury & consequent pain are themselves brutal and needn’t be shied away from.

Emotional reactions can help with the writing of physical pain:

How does your character feel when that hammer hits his elbow? Depressed, frightened, vulnerable, hopeless, despairing, humiliated, angry?

The Limitations of Agony

There’s nothing wrong with escapist writing that allows for agony tolerance & superhero-like brilliance if that’s your intention & your reader’s expectation.

If you’re aiming for authenticity and grit, though, be mindful of pain thresholds, especially what’s possible when your character’s in agony.

Agony, drawn realistically, can make us doubt the protagonist’s ability to make it. Why is that interesting?

Which is best? Whether you choose to leave your character's hurt to the reader's imagination, tell it through using commonly understood descriptors, or show it through reaction and environment will depend on your style, genre and intention.

Notes: For "showing-it-all" violence

Provide stage direction and choreography but avoid repetition.

Play with narrative distance (using thoughts and free indirect speech).

Experiment with commas and conjunctions (asyndetic and polysyndetic constructions) for rhythmic effect and to introduce tension.

Alter sentence length and evaluate the impact on pace.

Don’t forget the environment – will glimpses of it enrich a reader’s experience of the violence?

Notes: For "reporting-after-the-fact" violence

Focus on outcomes. Even if we haven’t followed the violence as it occurred, what are the after-effects? Think bodily injury, emotional trauma, and damage to the environment (though consider genre).

Use dialogue to explore the violence through other characters’ perceptions of and responses to it. Might you introduce contrasting emotions to unveil character traits?

Keep it short. While a show-it-all fight scene might fall over one or two pages, trust your reader to do more of the work in this case. Give them nudges that enable them to join the dots.

Note: If your scenes of violence include weapons or specialist fighting techniques, do your research. Some of your readers will know their guns and martial arts.

Other words for "hitting"

Writing Tips: Violent Scenes

Know your audience. The writer always has a higher tolerance for violence than the average reader, so if you are wondering if a scene is too much, ask your agent, editor, writing group colleague, or a beta reader for a second opinion.

Write the scene 2 different ways. When approaching a scene with violence, write it both with and without graphic descriptions. (Side note: This also works with sex scenes.) Let the two scenes sit for a while, then go back and read both. Which scene feels smarter? Which has greater resonance?

Make violence matter. Some authors write about ordinary people in extraordinary situations, and those situations may be unpleasant. But don't forget these are ordinary people, and as such violence isn't a common occurrence in their lives. So when you do write a violent scene, make it matter. Aim for the reader to say, "What if this happened to me?" If you've spent enough time developing your characters properly, when the time comes that you need to plunge them into a kill-or-be-killed fight, the reader's empathy levels will be soaring. On the other hand, if your main character gets into fights every chapter and always comes out winning, your reader will quickly grow tired. Keep in mind: Less is more. (Another side note: The same can be said of profanity).

Other words for "fighting"

TIP: Use Location & Setting as a Character

Bring your story to life by giving your location a "personality":

Is the city dark and grimy, a decaying relic riddled with vice and corruption?

Does the chocolate-box village give a misleading picture of what lies beneath?

Does the suburban street promise security but deliver death?

What does the location look like, smell like, sound like, feel like?

And how does this affect the characters?

What are its key features? Buildings, weather, volcanoes, darkness.

Who lives in this place?

Create an atmosphere in which your crime happens and that your characters inhabit.

What is their relationship to it?

Are they desperate to leave?

Or does it promise the life they always wanted?

Are they able to leave if they wanted?

TIP: Avoid Cliches

Unpredictability is more important in crime than many other genres.

A thriller would be less thrilling if you knew the outcome, and clichés make books more predictable. Consider avoiding the following cliches:

Heroes with drink/drug problems

Obsessions with particular types of music

Gender stereotypes such as the prim and proper female character who eventually caves to the male protagonist’s charms

Genius crime-solver who is rubbish with humans (the maverick loner)

The wacky, funny sidekick who can’t stand the sight of blood

Similar again, the brilliant serial killer

Cops from broken families

Murderer monologues (they describe exactly why they did it)

Some personal link between the detective and the murderer

The partner who has to have everything explained to them

The hard-ass police chief

Car chases and shoot outs

The estranged wife/daughter/parent

The young female they underestimated

(Middle-aged) men who are irresistible to (young) women.

Some elements will be hard to avoid, so, if you do want to include something that has been used frequently, ensure you can bring something new to it.

Do Your Research for example:

The limits of forensics

How DNA works… and doesn’t

How the legal system works, from warrants and arrests through to trials and sentencing

How the police works, from ranks and departments to internal politics and procedures

The crime scene. How do the police work a crime scene, from clothes and equipment to who gets access?

What happens to bodies when they’re cut, shot and killed?

How do murderers think? There are many types of murder and so there are many types of murderer. How does yours think? What’s their motivation and is it realistic?

Most of us can use a mobile phone, but do you understand how various computer hacks work? Or how certain technologies are used to find and track criminals?

Killers & Criminals

What makes a compelling killer?

One we hate and fear.

One that makes us want them locked up, killed or met with revenge.

Here are some tips:

Make the killer powerful in some way

Make their crimes make sense to them

Show their motivation (though not always at the beginning).

Your killer will not be your hero, but we enjoy complex and conflicted criminals.

Why does your criminal do what they do?

While not necessarily justifying their crimes, show the reader what drives them – complex criminals compelled by things in their own unpleasant past.

It is interesting to note that ‘baddies’ often see themselves as the good guys.

What is their motivation and why does it make sense to them? Do they have an internal struggle?

What emotions drive their actions?

Other words for: Decompose ⚜ Wilt

How do we ethically portray violence in crime fiction?

Perhaps one answer is that we write what we think is necessary and then make sure that we also write the consequences.

Maybe we just try to be human, aware of other humans, their experiences and their emotions.

Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References ⚜ 100 Sensory Words Wounds ⚜ Injuries ⚜ Poison ⚜ Fight Scenes Part 1 2 ⚜ Pain ⚜ Dystopia