#fluff will save me

[bluechanas]

..kibth..kizz...kis

[tojbnuy]

boyfriend!toji who doesn’t know why but he feels this weird jealousy everytime he sees you meet your friends and greet them all with a big hug. you never did that with him. you relationship was still fairly new to the both of you, but you kissed you fucked you even held hands sometimes when walking around. but, what toji was now realizing, was that he wanted a hug. well, he wanted a hug from You. not a casual little hug, a hug. holding each other. he didn’t know how to broach the subject without sounding needy and like the complete opposite of how he usually acts. he had never cared about this kinda stuff with other people, he’d never experienced it growing up and he thought he could live without it. until you. until you showed him that wanting to be held was normal. he’d been thinking about it for a while until one night, as the two of you got ready for bed it simply slipped out.

‘how come you don’t hug me?’

immediately you stopped plaiting your hair and turned to him with a shocked look.

‘what?’

‘how come you don’t hug me? like when you see your friends or you say bye you hug them. you don’t hug me.’

as soon as he said it he felt stupid. a grown man like him, older than you and he was sat here asking for a fucking hug. what if you turned the question around and said ‘well you don’t hug me’ what would he say? that i’ve never done that before sorry i don’t know how? his thoughts came to a stop when he felt a small hand grab his own larger one.

‘i- toji im so sorry. i’m sorry i didn’t think that was something you wanted.’

fuck now he’s made you feel bad.

‘nah doll you don’t have to say sorry, its nothing let’s just go to bed’

‘no toji please. let’s talk about it.’

you lifted the blanket and made your way over to his side of the bed so you could sit face to face. everything about you was so soft, so kind. such a complete contrast to himself. he was panicking, he didn’t do stuff like this, never talked about stuff like this.

‘honestly toji, i really just thought you weren’t a touchy person. i’m sorry for just assuming especially considering everything you’ve been through,’

‘no please doll. i wasn’t trying to blame you for anything. i just’

his palms were actually sweating, but your face. god your darling sweet face, looking at him like he hung up the stars in sky. like every word out of his mouth meant the world to you. you would wait for him to get the words out no matter how long he took.

‘i don’t know to be honest. you’re right i’m not a touchy person i’ve never really hugged anyone. but i want that. with you. and im sorry, i should be the one to initiate it i just didn’t really know how doll.’ his voice was so quiet, just a rough whisper.

he looked up to stare into your glassy eyes when you leaned in and kissed him. a small whisper of a kiss.

‘can i hug you?’ you said with your lips pressed against his.

he knew you knew he would prefer not to dwell on it.

and then he wrapped his arms around your back so tightly like he was showing the universe just how bad he needed you. he pulled you into his lap and let his cheek fall to your shoulder. he felt your arms wrap around his neck and you fingers stroking the hairs at his nape.

neither of you spoke, you simply sat and held each other and made a silent promise to maintain the closeness from today onwards.

‘thank you for telling me toji. you big baby.’

‘yeah that’s enough. time for bed.’

your giggle was music to his ears.

[sukunafuka]

Inspired by this art <3

Every time baby Megumi drifts off to sleep in Toji’s arms—or even just within the vicinity—Toji isn’t far behind. It’s like clockwork. One minute Megumi’s blinking slow and heavy, the next, Toji’s head is tilting back, mouth slightly open, matching his son’s sleeping face almost perfectly. They even drool the same way. The only difference is Megumi’s snores are suggestive, while Toji’s are aggressive.

Young middle aged Toji likes to claim he’s too old for this new dad routine, but he still does it, even when you insist on handling it yourself. Every time Megumi cries in the middle of the night, you gently wake Toji with a kiss to his drooling lips. He grumbles awake with a tired, old-man grunt, and when you ask him to check on the baby, he doesn’t hesitate. He just grumbles some more, stretches with a series of groans and loud sniffs, then shuffles heavily out of the room, doing his best to be quiet. You always wake the next morning to an empty bed, only to find him knocked out on the floor of Megumi’s room, with Megumi lying across his chest and stomach like he’s a human mattress.

You and Toji have started calling the phenomenon ‘the sleepies,’ a highly contagious condition that Toji takes very seriously. The moment Megumi’s eyelids flutter shut, his little body growing warm and slack, Toji reacts like an alarm just went off—grunting as he hauls himself up from (usually) the couch, already making his way out of the room. But Megumi, though still too young to fully speak, has picked up on the pattern. He knows. And he hates it.

So he fights it. He fights it with everything he has, blinking furiously, rubbing his face, whining at nothing. And when sleep inevitably wins, when his tiny body gives in and Toji starts to leave, Megumi wakes just enough to make his displeasure known—throwing whatever he can get his hands on, be it a toy, a bottle, or whatever unfortunate object happens to be nearby. His groggy little cries fill the room, frustration spilling out in wobbly, half-conscious protests. If Megumi has nothing in his hands, he whines at you in a jumble of sounds. You just shrug and tell him that you can’t control his stubborn daddy.

But sometimes—on the rarest, luckiest nights—Megumi will fall asleep on Toji’s chest, his tiny fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, and Toji, instead of running, will let himself give in, too as he grumbles about some dirty dishes he has to wash. You’ll press close to his side, a hand resting on the warm rise and fall of your baby’s soft back, and let yourself be pulled under with them.

[dumblilb]

She’s a….. she’s a fucking munch. I’m quivering.

[tojisteddy]

A very small habit you had when it came to John Price.

He’d been a long day of work, coming home late and eating the delicious left overs you left on a plate for him and completely knocking out on the living room couch from food coma and exhaustion.

You’d wake up just around the time John was completely knocked out, just as it hit one a.m. loud snores filling the living room. And there was your chance.

You’d silently slip in, bend down to the floor right in front of the sleeping bear, clutch onto his leg and placing your head right his thigh.

You couldn’t describe it, it just gave you such a nice comforting feeling. Like, ah, this is home. John is home.

Usually you’d be gone and in bed by the time John began to stir but just a couple times your husband had witnessed the adorable sight. He’s tired and hooded blue eyes would find there way to whatever was weighing his foot down and he’s find a mess of curls in his lap. Scarf, that was supposed to be on, had made its journey the floor, the softest snores leaving you. He had to cover his face from gushing at you, you were too damn cute, so lovable.

“John?” You croaked out as he scooped you up to lay on top of him, putting your face in his neck, you cuddled into him instinctively.

“‘S’okay love, sleep more, yeah?”

Just a few more seconds with you, another minute— maybe be late to work again because he always wanted a little more time with you. Day light threatening to creep through the window, the soft silence of the house, and warmth of the heat surrounded the both of you.

Oh, how it felt so good to be home in your arms.

a/n: a drabble from this because I adore adore this John so much. Still taken aback that ppl liked it. Let me know if you want a part 2 or send me a message if you have a question about it :)

[hisfavoritesundress]

Dating Jason Todd means picking and dropping you off anywhere you want. To your work, school, favorite cafe, store, park, etc.—anywhere. He's your guy.

And don't worry about gas money. He would never let his princess pay anything for him.

He immediately drops everything he's doing if you tell him you want to go to a place.

"Don't worry, baby. Just stay there, don't move. I'll get you."

That includes being punctual. You're getting off work or school at 5 PM? He's already there by 4:45 tops, leaning on his bike, two helmets on the seat, parked at the curb, waiting for his pretty girl. Doesn't matter what time it is—he's there, outside.

Honestly, it makes you squirm, god, he looks so hot, waiting for you, not letting you go anywhere alone without making sure you got there safe and secure. Since you started dating him, you've never ridden a bus, taxi, or any public transportation unless he's there with you. He's making you soft and more feminine, and it's sending you to utter heaven.

He might come off as cold to other people, but not to you. Never to you.

What makes you squirm even more is when he's waiting for you at night. There's nothing unusual, but his outfit—you secretly wish for it all the time. Don't get it wrong, he looks good in every outfit he wears, but his black shirt?

There's something different when he's wearing just a plain black shirt. It hugs his physique, his biceps pushing the fabric a little tighter around his arms, chest too, and god, his back. You could see the ridges of his muscles against the dark fabric. Don't even get me started when he grips the handlebar of the bike, his arm flexing unconsciously. And you're already ovulating a little too early in your cycle.

Salivating.

Immediately, you're salivating. But you just secretly watch him, secretly admiring him because you try to savor it on your own. Your gazes last longer than usual, glued to his body.

Not too fast.

As the red light shines on the highway and he has time to look at you, he catches your gaze on his shirt, on his body. You're too entranced to even notice him watching you in the rearview mirror.

He smirks under the dark helmet.

Two days later, he brought five dozen of the same shirt.

[eraserbread]

Husband Nanami driving and taking care of us after getting our wisdom teeth removed 👀?

so cuteeeee ٩>ᴗ<)و i needed to write this i think it healed me a lil

➽─────────────────────────────❥

when nanami saw you again in the afternoon, your face was a swollen shiny rendition of the one he dropped off this morning. it was only three hours ago, but it felt like a lifetime. kento's never had to see you like this, and as you nod off in his passenger seat, he's more than happy to wait until you're settled enough to drive off.

"we'll go if you're feeling okay." he's using a soft voice, privy to the fact you're still prisoner to the effects of anesthesia. nanami leans over and grabs the top of your thigh, squeezing there to let you know you're with him. either he's stupidly biased, or his wife still looks stunning with a swollen face and bloody lips. especially when you turn and pout at him, pretty eyes all glassed over and pained.

"go. go, hurts." your words are mushing into each other, leaving ken with the task of piecing them together again. he hears your pain and is so fucking quick when he turns over the engine and starts back home.

on the way back, you start to liven up again, noting passing street signs and commenting on how delicious kens arms look in his long-sleeved shirt. most of what you're saying doesn't make sense to him, but it does to you. it does just enough to get you going with tears in your eyes and conviction behind your tone.

just like when you saw two stray cats tail-in-tail through the neighborhood. ken drove by them so fast that he didn't even notice, but the sight of them made you fucking sob.

"ouh, ken, it's us." you whine, grasping at the window like you want to get out. as they fade off into the distance, you're left whining and begging him to turn around so you can take them home.

"what?" he's hardly regarding you, but his hand is still pressed to your thigh.

"the kitties - two of'em, so cute." you slur, sniffling back the promise of tears. "if you were a kitty, I know you'd protect me. you act all big n mean like a hissy kitty, then tell me I'm pretty... i jus' love you so much."

"kitties can't speak, nanami baby." he starts, just to be reasonable. then, he gives you what you want. "but, you're right. i'd find some way to call you pretty if I was a cat."

then, kento spends the next three days off of work and by your side. he spoon-feeds you soft yogurts and ice cream, completely blending your favorite meals so it's easier on your mouth. impossibly, he refrains from kissing your pouty, swollen lips. he'll just graze over your cheek in passing and still call you beautiful.

it's the least he can do after you've done so much for him. and it's caught in these stupid little moments when you don't know what you're saying, that reminds him why he chose you for a lifetime.

[matchstique]

[demigods-posts]

sometimes. i just have to remind myself that percy took annabeth to paris. like, canonically. he forgot their one-month anniversary. and took his girl to paris to make up for it. the standards are in elysium.

[nymphoniah]

wonderful tonight | logan howlett

pairing: old man!logan x younger!reader

i’m yearning for old man!logan so fuckin’ badddd. just been thinking about curling up next to him in bed, resting your head in his lap while he’s propped upright, smoking a cigar.

content/tags: domesticity, pet names, hints of sexual content, just very fluffy tbh lol, implied age gap (logan is >200 years old, reader is in their 20’s).

one hand is occupied with rubbing finger eights with his thumb along your jawline, and the other is pinching the spine and pages of the book he’s reading. the cigar rests in the corner of his mouth, and he releases the occasional puff to let the smoke out.

he always pays attention to his girl. he’ll make sure of it. whether he’s busy or tired, he’ll always make time for you.

and right now, that’s petting you like you’re his own little cat, which isn’t too far off of a description—with every caress of his calloused fingers against your face, you’re mewling. all you need to do is grow a tail.

“such a pretty girl,” he murmurs, huffing out some smoke. he glances down at you, pinching your cheek before he moves his hand away from you to rest his cigar on the ashtray.

licking his index finger and thumb, he then flips to the next page of his book, looking down at the contents through his glasses.

“logan…” you whine, tugging at the hem of his shirt in an attempt to get his attention.

“don’t think i forgot about you, darlin’” he chuckles, running a hand through your hair, ruffling it slightly.

he folds the corner of the page of his book and stows it away on the beside table.

“now show your old man some sugar,” he lulls, patting his thighs for you to sit on.

[trappolia]

rafayel misses you.

it's ridiculous, given that you and him occupy the same space. his head has made an imprint upon your lap from how long he has been laying upon it, and your body instinctively curls over his as if to defend him — him, of all creatures — from the big bad things out there in the world.

it's a rare occurence, surely, considering the line of your work, and rafayel knows that he should feel some semblance of gratitude for you— but there is a selfish part of him that wonders why this is so rare. why is it that he should feel grateful that you only occasionally take time off to spend it with him instead of running after wanderer tracks like some headless chicken.

what irks rafayel the most is that even now, your mind is elsewhere; pondering about your next work day, your next course of action in your investigations regarding the aether core, everything in between— but never him.

"do you love me?" he blurts out suddenly.

rafayel hears you hum, and the dappled shade your frame casts over him where he lays upon your lap shifts as you look down at him. there's a soft smile upon your face, though your eyes shine with a glint of curiosity— puzzlement.

"of course i do," you say, as if it were obvious— as if rafayel could feel it.

and he does. he knows it, deep down in his heart and in his soul, that you love him as surely as the wave comes back to shore; you'll always come back to him at the end of the day, and rafayel thinks that it should matter.

it should matter. it should. that's what he tells himself then as he closes his eyes, turning his head to bury it in the soft of your stomach— and will all his wretched thoughts away.

[princesssmars]

home sweet home

a vi x reader.

the war between the silco and the firelights has gotten tense, and all you want is a day off to rest. but when an old flame returns from the dead you find the energy to give her a welcome home present she won’t forget.

wc: 4.491

contains : fluff, adoptive brother ekko and firelight reader. mentions of vi's abuse in prison :c smut. dry humping and tribbing yippee.

a/n : idk something about being separated for years and celebrating the reunion with rough and/or desperate sex does it for me bro 💔 started this beforeeee everything and hopefully this gets posted the morning of act ones drop <3 update i love vi but i need to kick her ass yayyy enjoy.

-

for lack of a better word, your day was getting really fucking weird.

you woke up with a weird feeling in your stomach, an ache strong enough to rouse you from your sleep and out of your bed. you chalked it up to hunger, having skipped another meal last night to stay up looking over some of the injured firelight’s and new schematics for tools and weapons.

but once you got a good meal into your stomach, staring up at the giant tree you called your home, you realized the feeling wasn’t from neglecting your appetite. it was that feeing you got when something big was about to happen.

you felt it when the breakthroughs were made on some of the bigger inventions like the hoverboards, when the firelights found this impossible and beautiful grove and made it their home, on that day years ago where your life crumbled around you in the space of a few days.

so it was only up to fate if something bad or good would happen today. and you didn’t feel like waiting to find out.

quickly making your way up the tree, you rapidly do your special knock on ekko’s door, only to be met with silence. you try again and silence still. trying and slightly failing to keep yourself calm, you head back down and start asking others if they’ve seen him, the ache in your stomach growing at some of the awkward and shifty responses you get.

for six years you and ekko have been inseparable. both traumatized by the trials of growing up in the undercity, getting taken in by benzo, and then the sudden and bloody death of your friends, you had no one else to depend on except for each other. it was hard to put it lightly, navigating a rapidly changing undercity and taking care of your little adoptive brother while trying to deal with your own trauma. even as you met others and formed this group you now call family, you made a promise to each other to stick side by side no matter what.

and that included not running off and doing god knows what in the early morning while the other was sleeping.

you’re halfway through pulling on your coat and mask when you hear the sound of the main door opening and a small commotion, running as fast as you can to get down the tree again before a tall figure stops you.

he tries to be funny, throwing out a 'hey hey hey, slow down! your running like there’s a fire-ow!' before he holds a gloved hand to the side of his arm, cradling the spot where you punched him. you get a solid minute of berating and cussing him out before the look on his face tells you he's being serious, conflict clear in his brown eyes.

you have about a million questions running in your head as he leads you to one of the stock rooms, his breath inhaling multiple times to explain before he lets it out in frustration.

“just…promise you won’t freak out, ok?”

you nod before he pushes you inside and closes the door behind you.

you scoff, calling his name and knocking on the hard material for him to let you out. you weren’t in the mood today to entertain his hidden playful nature, most of the time you indulged him but you were too worried at the moment. you’re seconds away from cursing him out again when a soft voice calls out your name from the darkness behind you behind you.

no. it’s not possible. it’s deeper, more rugged then you remember, but you wouldn’t, couldn’t forget that voice. you heard it in your dreams for years, pushing you to keep going for yourself when you felt like giving up, reminding you she was always there by your side when you felt so alone.

you slowly turn your body, unconsciously trying to protect yourself from the possibility of this being a farce when two strong arms wrap around your waist and pull you into a sturdy torso. at the slightest glimpse of hit pink hair your eyes start to water and your chest is heaving with long building gasps, wrapping your arms around her shoulders and digging your face into her neck.

for years you’d daydream about this moment, what you’d say if you were reunited with the girl who was your best friend and likely the love of your life. you’d imagine the rushed out words and apologies, the shared wails as you assured the other you’d never leave their side again. but this silence just feels so right, makes so much sense for all the emotions you’ve been letting sit in your heart without any kind of resolution or closure.

she pulls away from you slightly and you hope she ignores the subtle whine that leaves your throat as she does. her large, and you mean really large, palms come up to cup your cheek as she stares at your face, blue eyes flitting across your features like she’s trying to commit every piece of you to memory. you don’t mind, you remember how she liked when you let her observe things so she could take in things as much as possible lest they be gone in a second. it just gives you an excuse to stare at her, too.

and gods above are you staring. obviously a large part of you is sentimental and sad as you see how much she’s changed over the years; the longer jagged shapes of her jaw, her nose. your heart pangs seeing the cuts in her brow and lip that you unconsciously bring a finger up to rub at. but it takes an embarrassing amount of strength not to pay attention just to her lips as you feel over the scar, how her bright eyes go wide and unblinking as she stands and lets you do whatever it is you’re doing.

you want to do anything to break the tension and you’re given the opportunity when your eyesight drifts slightly to the right and catches onto the tattoo on her upper cheek.

“did you…tattoo your name on your face?”

you’re still so close you can feel her laugh rather than hear it, her chest pressing into your when she huffs through her nose.

“wanted to make sure the guys in there knew who was kicking their asses without the need for introductions.”

“still punching first yelling insults later?”

“nothing anybody in there didn’t deserve.”

gods does your heart hurt for her. you knew it was likely other people like her were probably in stillwater, disposed of to cover someone’s ass or see as thrash just for where they were born. but you knew despite that she would have faced so much being thrown in there at such a young age that you not anyone else could understand, the way they must have treated her…

even after all these years it’s like she can ready your body language like a book, able to know your fingers stalling in their exploration means your mind is wandering, and given the previous subject matter she knows it can’t be good. her bandaged fingers gently wrap around yours and rub over your knuckles until your attention is back on her.

“hey, stay with me for now. we’ll have time to go over all that stuff later. right now just stay with me, alright?”

like you could ever say no to her.

you figure the best way to make progress until your much needed conversation is yo acquaint her with where your sure she’ll be staying until she gets back on her feet, however she chooses to do so. at first she seems uncomfortable with the idea of staying at the base, like she doesn’t want to intrude on the home you and others had built from the ground up.

“obviously i’ll help with anything you guys ask but are you sure everyone would be alright with me staying here? i kind of punched the shit out of that scar guy.”

“he’ll get over it just like everyone else. you’re a legend here, vi, you’re up on that mural for a reason.”

the whole time you show vi around you feel a warm mess in your chest. you forgot just how nice it was to spend time with her, thinking back on fond memories of the two of you sneaking away when the others were busy to spend time together on the safer and quieter parts of the undercity. your feelings aren’t helped with how close vi insists on being, hand never leaving your grasp as you tug her around and occasionally bumping her shoulder into yours when your mind wanders.

you’re recounting the story of how one of the hoverboards went haywire and crashed into one of the bases walls when a low rumble from the side of you cuts you off, footsteps halting you in place. when you turn to vi she has that same cute embarrassed look she used to have when you were younger, eyes wide and body still like if she didn’t move you wouldn’t acknowledge what just happened.

she knows better than to argue with you as you drag her pliant body somewhere, most likely to get her something to eat after only having some scarfed down jerichos a few hours ago. you bc lead her to some small communal dining area before not so gently guiding her to sit, eyes on her form for a few seconds to make sure she won’t be stubborn and refuse to let you grab some food for her.

and why would she even think of resisting when she can sit here and finally get a few minutes to just relax. ever since cait somehow managed to get her out of prison her body had been on, sheer stubbornness and willpower keeping her going until she found what she was looking for. a part of her knew she wouldn’t stop searching, wouldn’t stop hoping to see you and her sister again.

but as she watches you across the room pick and prod over a meal a vastayan is helping to out on your plate her shoulders unclench and the muscles in her legs ease. nothing felt better than when you’d dote over her. she remembers one time she caught a flu and had to stay inside and distant from everyone, ready to be miserable in solitude until you burst in with vander hot on your heels and insisted you wouldn’t leave her side until she was better, that she’d do the same for you.

which she did have to wind up doing as you caught the sickness from her after only three days. she never once complained.

when you finish her plate you look back to her with a sweet smile and start to walk back over to her. she writhes in her seat a bit under your gaze, suddenly feeling a little too warm when you sit the plate in from of her and tell her to eat up. she tries her best not to scarf this down as well, but when you give her a look that says you know how hungry she she is and won’t mind she can’t help herself.

she spends the rest of the day by your side, never leaving your sight as you introduce her to some of your fellow firelights and some of the younger kids who’d heard stories about her and vander. you can tell it still prods at an unhealed wound to talk about him in past tense, but that she still looks back on those fond memories with happiness. you’re more than happy to join in and help narrate the tale of one of your more adventurous and dangerous trips through the old undercity.

eventually the sun starts to set and the lights of the tree turn from a dazzling green to a soft collection of oranges and yellow, a signal to everyone that it’s time to wind down and end the day. the two of you meet back of with ekko who tells you he had already shown cait to an extra room she could use for the next few days.

“cupcake didn’t put up too much of hassle today, did she? don’t think she’s ever spent this much time past the promenade.”

“she was alright. uptight but i can tell she means well. you can talk to her in the morning, her room is right across from yours.”

you’re paying too much attention to just being in the space of two of your favorite people again that you don’t even notice how vi has turned her head to look at you, silently asking you to ask her for what she hopes you both want. by the time you realize and turn back to ekko he has that dumb little grin on his face that he used to wear all the time he’d catch the two of you getting a little too close for comfort.

“don’t even start, ekko.”

“i didn’t say anything! i’ll catch up with you two tomorrow. try not to be so loud, some of us need a good nights sleep tonight-“

you quickly reach over and swat at the young boys arm as he laughs and hurries away from the two of you, voice carrying as he leaves to head off to sleep.

it’s surreal as you take vi’s hand into yours and start the brisk walk to your personal quarters. you don’t have any expectations about tonight but you can’t lie and say a deep part of yourself isn’t hoping to get more than close with her tonight.

once you reach your bedroom you start shuffling for some clothes for the both of you to wear while she prods and examines all of your things. you watch her for a moment, nearly giving yourself away with a laugh when she nearly breaks the dusty antique snow globe you’d found abandoned on a scrap run.

“it’s crazy, right? how they’ll just abandon things without even thinking about their worth.” you speak offhandedly as you settle yourself on to your bed and start to remove your boots and holsters.

“yeah, no offense but i just. really don’t wanna talk about abandoning things right now.” her tone is malicious enough to make you sit your movements, eyes softening at the broken and tired woman in front of you.

“i’m sorry, i just-“

“no, no, it’s okay. i understand,” you gently reach out your hand to hold hers, locked in that tight fist she does when she’s bottling up her anger. “can you talk to me about it? whatever you want to say, just say it.”

she rolls her shoulder before setting down the globe and sitting on the bed, her tensed back facing you. you gently pass the spare clothes you have for her and watch as she takes them and sets them on her lap.

“every night for the first year i was in there i’d have these nightmares. about what happened. first it was just, replaying what happened on this endless loop. then it was wondering what i could’ve done different, if i could’ve been smarter-“

“vi dont do that,” you crawled over to sit right behind her body placed your hands on her shoulders, gently rubbing them across and down to her forearms. trying to look her in the eye proves useless. “what happened was…tragic, and blaming yourself is pointless. you did what you could, i know you did.”

“how? how could you possibly know?” she finally turns her head to you and the look in her eyes does nothing to help the sick feeling you have building up in your throat and stomach. “i told you to stay with ekko, you weren’t there. how could you not be even a little angry at me, for not being here for powder, for ekko and the firelights, for you?”

you can hear the lump in her throat and see the tears building in her eyes when you bring your hands up to cup her face. a stray tear runs down her face and you brush it away with your thumb.

“i could never be angry at you, vi. not for this. the girl i know always kept fighting for her family, and if she didn’t come back to us it was because she couldn’t. she’d never abandon us, you wouldn’t abandon us.”

she gently nods her head and nuzzles her face into your hands. you give her a minute to calm down, continuing to softly brush her cheeks and her crazy hair out of her eye.

“what is going on with your hair?” you whisper as you struggle to push a strand away and out of her face, giving up once it falls back into place for the tenth time.

her eyebrows scrunch. "what, you dont like it? its cool."

"its covering half of your face, its horrible."

"you'll get used to it." she shakes her head with a small smile before softly resting her hand on your lower waist.

"maybe, but im definitely not going to brush over you tattooing your name on your face. please tell me you didnt make any other rash b ody adjustments in there."

the growing smile on her simultaneously puts butterflies in your stomach and makes you very nervous. its not helped when she turns her back to you again and starts to shrug off her jacket, revealing the previous glimpse of her neck tattoo you'd seen goes further down. way further down.

"wow. that's...wow." you want to bury your head into your hands and leave the room. 'wow just wow?' really smooth. "can i touch?"

"uhhh yeah, no problem."

after she gives her consent your fingertips lightly hover and brush over the interlapping lines of curves inked into her skin. you feel a small thrill seeing the goosebumps rise on her arms when your hands glide down them, taking pride in knowing you can still bring out a physical reaction in her with your touch.

"this is really nice, vi. did you get someone in there to do it for you?"

"nope, did 'em both myself. wasn't exactly the best environment to ask people to have access to your body with a needle for hours at a time."

you hum in response while continuing to observe the tattoo. you can see it goes further down her back and decide to speak without thinking too much about what you're saying.

"can i see the rest of it?"

you're a bit scared at how still she goes, wondering if maybe you crossed a boundary before her hands slowly reach behind her and start to lift the white fabric of her shirt until its full taken off of her body.

you make sure to continue the gentle touches as your hands run down the muscles and planes of her back, continuing to admire the clouds and gears that make up the design. you feel a little pang in your heart when you see the initials of mylo and claggor at the bottom of the tattoo, along with the number of welts and scars on her skin.

"its beautiful, vi." you whisper. her body subtly scooches back on the bed to get closer to your touch. the moment is just shy of overwhelming, which is probably why you leave a small kiss on her shoulder, right where one of the scars starts before trailing down her back a few inches. she lets out a muffled noise and you start to pull away before the strong grip of her palm clasps down on your leg, holding you in place.

you leave more kisses and pecks over the length of her tattoo as your legs start to wrap around her from behind, both of her hands grasping your thighs as she relaxes into the affection. you test the waters when you come back up to her neck, lightly sinking your teeth into her skin.

"oh fuck-" her strained voice hits your ears right before she abruptly pulls out of your arms and tugs you by the arm and leg until your reversed, sitting in her lap with her hands gripping at your hips.

you continue to drag yours up and down her arms, reveling in the fact that you can now see her facial expressions, how her eyes droop and lips part as you slightly scratch at her skin.

you adjust your hips to sit closer to her at the same time she lifts hers up, the friction causing small noises to escape both of your throats. her eyes open up and she stares up at you with those big light blues.

your hand travels up to her hair, running through it as you keep looking at her. "are you sure? i dont wanna push you,"

"you wont, i do. please, just wanna be close to you."

you give in, wrapping your arms around her neck and bringing her into a sweet kiss, reveling in the feel of her arms coming up to grip on your back. its slow and languid as you get used to each other before she adds her tongue to the mix, pulling a moan from your throat as you try to bury yourself even closer into her hold.

you move your focus onto her neck, trailing kisses and bites down and across her throat, as she rocks your bodies together and claws at your back.

"used to dream about this, about you, missed you so much," her voice has a slight rasp to it already that drives you nuts, instantly darting back up to bring her into a messy kiss. she adjusts her knee to rest in between your legs and lifts it up into your core, pulling away to look at you as you moan at the friction.

"jeez, what'd they teach you in there?" you let out a breathy chuckle while you grind down into her knee. your eyes drift close before her gentle kiss to her cheek drags your gaze back to her, unblinking as she watches you come undone for her. her stare along with the hazy smile on her face yanks you to the edge, gasping and moaning as you come in her arms.

you feel almost drunk as you come down from your orgasm, nuzzling into her neck while she presses gentle kisses to your shoulder and the side of your neck. she starts to place your body on the bed before you tug her back on top of you.

"what, aren't you tired?"

"maybe, but not tired enough to stop now. take off your pants."

she grins like she'd just been offered free sweets from a piltovian candy shop for the rest of her life. you try not to giggle as she stumbles off the bed and tugs her pants off before settling her body back on top of yours. she resumes her barrage of kisses and bites into your skin, finally paying some attention to your chest while you bring your hands up to thumb at her nipples, biting your lip at how sensitive she is to the touch.

she wastes no time spreading your legs beneath you and getting your silent agreement before moving her lips to rest over yours, taking a second to drag her fingers through your cunt and stuffing them inside her mouth.

"vi!"

"sorry, was just curious." she leans down to kiss you sweetly before resting her self on you, legs draped over the curves of her arms as she oh so slowly starts to drag herself back and forth over you.

you slightly wish you had done this first as the overstimulation makes it oh so intense for you, the feeling of her hair and clit rubbing over yours nearly sending you into a frenzy. your eyes roll back into your head once she starts to speed up her movements, her soft whines and grunts into your neck only adding to the physical stimulation you're feeling.

your core feels like its on fire when you start to hear the subtle whispers she's letting out into your neck, curses of 'fuck, fuck oh-fuck,' and grunts of your name mix together to create a desperate harmony.

"vi, feels too- oh my god i-"

"i know, baby, i know," she moans, pressing a harsh bite into the underside of your neck. you can feel her smile into it when you involuntarily let out a squeal at the action. "never gonna leave you, pretty. could never leave you, leave this."

you never fancied yourself the possessive type, but the reaction you have to her words definitely proves there's something there as you wrap your hands around her shoulder and squish her down into you again, moaning just a little too loud at the lack of closeness and feeling of her chest rubbing against yours.

you can feel your next orgasm building quick and fast, thighs trembling as you desperately grind your hips into her even harder. you can tell she's close too, hips losing their rhythm as her panting gets even louder. you nudge your face to the side and rub your cheek against hers, thankful she gets the hint to smother both of your noises with an intense kiss.

"fuck, vi, missed you s'much, love this, love you-"

you're grateful that you have some semblance of brain activity left to drag her head down to your neck to bit down as she cums, her groan loud and long as she keeps moving her hips until you cum only a few seconds after she does. you can feel a tear or two escape your eyes, overstimulation so intense you think you see janna for a moment.

both of your chests are rapidly panting as you catch your breaths, dragging your hand through her sweaty hair while she presses gentle kisses over the marks she no doubt left over your chest. now you'll have to wear more layers for a while, but at the moment you cant find it in you to care.

"you have no idea how glad i am that i still have you," you almost dont pick up on the silent whisper she says, muffled by the current kisses. you lazily drag your fingers to lift her up by the chin until she's looking at you, eyes filled with nothing but love and affection.

"you're always gonna have me vi, i promise."

you can tell she has her doubts, you do as well. but she lets herself relax into your hand yet again and wears the tiniest smile while she starts to fall asleep in your embrace.

you gently pull the covers over both of your bodies and follow her into the lull of sleep, falling asleep in vi's arms again for the first time in years.

you have the nicest dreams you've had in years.

[littelovelunette]

Sevika's Purple Hexstrap

Sevika x Fem!Reader

Contains smut, hexstrap, doggy style, breeding, drooling

Tag: @jwoori

Sevika hadn't told you she bought a hexstrap. She didn't want to ruin the surprise for you.

You both had talked about having children before but you never thought you'd one night randomly be asked to strip.

So you did, and Sevika positioned you on your knees, "Eyes closed, okay?"

"What?" You mumbled but closed your eyes anyway. You heard Sevika shuffled around, doing something and then you felt the head of a strap press against your slit.

"Fuck, it's just a strap, I thought—" you craned your head around and froze when you saw Sevika lining the hexstrap against your slit.

"Mhm? Gonna breed this pretty pussy," Sevika smirked.

She didn't wait for your reaction and thrusted her cock deep inside causing you to jerk slightly. "Oh fuck, it's big!"

Your hole resisted at the start, resistance building due to the sheer thickness of the toy. Your eyes squeezed shut, fists squeezing shut against the sheets as you shed sweat.

"C-can't," you whimpered when the dildo was five inches in.

Three more inches to go.

Sevika tutted, "You can take more," she stated plainly before slamming it in all the way.

You cried out, grabbing the bedsheets tightly and whining softly.

Sevika's hands gripped your waist as she pumped inside, moaning in your ear because of how tight you were around her. She could feel every bit of it. She groaned, pulling your hips back further so she could reach deeper.

Each and every thrust was so hard and so precise, so deep.

You were a crying mess. It felt so damn good.

"Fuck, can't, Sev, oh my gosh!" You said, your words punctuated by her thrusts, hard and brutal. Unforgiving and rough.

You gasped, tears spilling down your cheeks as Sevika's pace suddenly got so damn fast. Your legs were wobbling on your knees.

"Yes, you can, fucking take it," Sevika growled.

You felt her twitch inside. As if she could feel your walls fluttering tighter and tighter, desperate to milk her. You needed her.

You forced your face in a pillow letting out a loud strangled, "Sev," in a moan that was absolutely pornographic.

You got shy after that, chewing the pillow to keep yourself quiet.

"Mhm?" Sevika chuckled.

Drool running down your chin and soaking the sheets and pillowcase but you didn't care. You loved being treated like a ragdoll, for Sevika's pleasure.

She loved it equally if not more.

Eyes rolled back feeling the rough pounding of your hole— the only sound were pants, slapping sounds, and the lewd squelching of your greedy hole around her fat, thick cock.

"C-c-can't," you stuttered.

Sevika let out something in between a growl and a moan, twitching in you before you felt something warm filling you up and Sevika's body locked with yours.

Your eyes widened, pussy overfilling with the sticky semen. Sevika's semen. She just bred you.

Your mouth was open, drool running down in messy globs, you didn't care. It felt too good. Your lips curled up slightly.

"Again," you whispered.

[streetchicken]

Two posts in one day? Unheard of. Unfathomable. Preposterous even.

Price had a bad mission so his Russian is in teddy bear mode :)

[knightesspo]

U know what my favorite detail is? Sevika eventually got rid of her 'collar'. (there should be some analysis here, like she finally became herself, but forgive me, thoughts leave my head when I see Sevika)

Be free, my lesbian queen with undercut.

+ And Jinx, by the way, literally and figuratively took off Sevika's collar. Or in other words: Sevika finding herself in the company of women, Jinx and Ishi, and felt freedom and safety. (I don't mean anything romantic!!!)

[fastboatsmojito]

tell me more about the sweet things Frank does pleeaassseee

ugh he’s suuuuch a sweetheart for someone who has every right to be a complete asshole to everyone <///3

Notes; hi guys I have so much other shit to write it’s actually laughable but this is what ur getting for now mostly because im unable to think about anyone else atm #sorry, enjoy!

he’s pretty old fashioned when it comes to most things; leaning his head back to look at you like you’re insane if you try to pay for anything, long legs striding right past you to open doors, a guiding hand on your waist when you’re walking together so you can keep up with him, etc. he’ll be damned if you ever do anything you don’t have to, always insistent on lending a large helping hand whenever you need one.

“Why don’t you just let me help you, huh? Always gotta have an attitude about it.” he made it sound so simple, like the act of him helping you clasp your necklace shouldn’t have you swooning like this, reeling in the rough callouses of his fingers against the back of your neck. of course he wasn’t really upset, shaking his head at your insistent remarks about being able to do it yourself. you could always tell when he was pushing you to accept the love he so thoughtfully handed to you, understanding when you needed a harsher tone or a soothing hand.

that’s just who he is; priding himself in keeping you safe and in the meantime securing every understanding he had of you in his mind, every fear, every goal, the things you’d dream about often enough to bring it up the next morning, he knew you and he knew what you needed, half the time before you knew it yourself. because that’s just who he is. that’s his job — at least that’s what he keeps telling you.

“I don’t have an attitude, but you don’t have to take care of me all the time, Frank. I can-“

“You can take care of yourself. Yeah yeah I know sweetheart, you’re real tough. I know it.” it was hard to look it right now, letting his arms squeeze around you, standing firm in your words as you melted into the strong shape of him behind you.

there were a million examples, and no matter how hard you tried to convince him, he’d do it again and again. coming back home after a rough day and cleaning himself up before picking you up from where you’d fallen asleep on the couch to take you to bed. ignoring the ache in his bones, hushing you with a kiss on your crown, and tucking you under the soft blankets ‘right where you belong’ because that’s just who Frank Castle is.