#they take care of each other in their own ways

[ellstersmash]

things i learned today:

solas could've avoided this whole mess and probably had enough free time to take lavellan on a nice little date if he just took up archdemon hunting instead of all the rituals and the other dastardly deeds

lucanis won't romance rook if they go to minrathous but will romance neve because despite saying he's cool, he's not cool

everyone's nice and no one has slaves or anything because *checks forearm* the blight

all your companions get along with you and each other because also the blight

even though he's like, really manipulative and uses people all the time, solas accumulated but then gave up an entire army's worth of spies and agents because he decided he wasn't ready for a management position

red lyrium isn't really around because—and you are not gonna believe this—the blight

solas just lies. all the time, outright, to everyone. so I guess he was actually only super careful to not ever actively lie in Inquisition as like a fun little challenge to himself

tying the veil to his life force (you know, the guy who couldn't even take down an archdemon on his own and actually just got his ass beat so is not in great shape in the best ending) fully repaired the veil! \o/ don't ask how you wouldn't understand it it's not a big—

everyone near minrathous is cured of the blight! but @ everyone else you may be entitled to compensation 🥀

the only ritual solas has ever gotten or will ever get right is cleansing the idol into the ritual dagger. good thing too bc it was way more dangerous than this one. other than that, wrong about everything ever

elven magic is like not that big a deal, dude

the griffons are, unfortunately, long-term fucked

the elves don't see the crossroads differently anymore because uh.. because....... war

spite does not get involved in rookanis sexytimes. so perhaps him spreading his wings was actually just in preparation to leave bc ew they're kissing gross

NO ONE cares about the goddamn spirits

[kamaluhkhan]

IN THE CROOKS OF HER BODY, I FIND MY RELIGION.

pairing: vi x firelight!reader word count: 2.8k summary: part two of this fic ,, basically soft sex + body worship with vi and a tiny bit of angst in between ,, vi being kinda vulnerable and needy and also really hot bc of course / 18+

inspired by a sappho quote + "holy" and "pussy is god" by king princess

“you have no idea how long i’ve wanted this, stargirl.” 

the two of you haven’t quite made it to bed yet. as soon as you shut the door, you couldn’t resist pressing vi up against it, having already missed the feeling of her body against yours from the short walk to your room.

“if it’s as long as i’ve wanted it,” you breathe between kisses, “then i’d say we’ve got a lot of time to make up for.”

vi shudders as your lips travel down her neck, your tongue tracing her tattoo. you feel her pull at the hem of your shirt, but you’re too busy pushing the jacket off her shoulders. 

fuck, her arms made your mouth water — all toned and tattooed. something ignites in your stomach, anxious to discover what else she’s hiding underneath layers of fabric. your frenzied hands struggle to undo her belt, vi smiling sheepishly as she steps in to help. once she’s got her pants off, you pause.

you just have to admire the sight of her: hair an absolute mess, chest heaving, and standing in your room with nothing but a dirty white tank top and light gray boyshorts and — wait, what’s that tattoo? 

vi clears her throat, and you realize that you’ve probably been staring too long. 

“okay, before you say anything —”

before she can finish her sentence, you step back and take off your own shirt. vi drinks up your exposed, tattooed skin and she swallows.

“are those —”

“violets, yeah.” 

it doesn’t matter that you’d never confessed your love for each other, that you’d both spent years not knowing if the other was alive or dead, that the chances of a happily ever after together is painfully small — she’s got stars sparkling across her hips and you’ve got violets blooming between your ribs. 

you’re not a religious person, but there has to be some sacred promise in the way you each dedicated parts of your body to the other, despite it all.

vi pulls you in by the neck, crashes her lips against yours urgently. her hands squeeze into the skin underneath your breasts, so hard that it might bruise. one of your hands travels between her legs, rubbing ever so slightly over her underwear; she moans and when you apply just a bit more pressure, vi gasps against your mouth. you’re determined to keep those pretty lips of her parted and whining for you and you regret all the time wasted not being down on your knees for her, so you drop to the ground to atone for your mistake.

“i want to taste you,” you state, pressing a kiss to her thigh, then looking up at her through your lashes. “is that okay?”

as you wait for her to respond, she watches you from above, biting her lip so hard you’re worried she’ll draw blood.

“you don’t have to,” vi finally says, blinking slowly. 

“i want to. i want to take care of you.”

“it’s really fine. that’s not what i’m here for anyways.” she reaches her hand down; ignoring the flutter of disappointment, you let her intertwine her fingers with yours and pull you up, flush against her hips. “it’s my job to take care of you, yeah? it’ll be worth your while. i used to have girls begging to try my magic tongue or fingers. sometimes both, depending on their preference.”

her unbelievably cocky smile sends a jolt of electricity between your legs, and it’s very difficult not to get distracted by her hands squeezing your ass, but you try your best.

“look, uh, vi —” your breath hitches as she starts to nip at your collarbone. “as tempting as that is, i really do want to take care of you, too.”

“you don’t have to.”

“if you’re worried about me, you don’t have to be. i promise i really want to take care of—”

“i said it’s fine,” she snaps. you’re caught off guard by her reaction, and you can tell she is, too, instantly all wide eyed and regretful. vi untangles herself from you to go sit on the bed. “i-i’m sorry,” vi sighs, running a hand through her hair. 

gingerly, you take a seat next to her, careful to give her space if she needs it.

“are you okay? did i say something or —”

“it’s just – i don’t know, stargirl,” she whispers before taking a shaky breath. “when you put it like that….i don’t know. i don’t deserve to be taken care of, especially not by you. all i do is fuck up and hurt the people i care about.”

oh. 

oh. 

you get it now.

the vi you knew years ago was always willing to carry the weight of everything on her shoulders for those she cared about and refused to let anyone else help. you remember how stubborn she’d be to accept anything, even something as small as half an orange you’d offer her when you spied her eyeing your snack. when you spent your earnings one week to buy an extra orange just for her, she flipped out.

it was, honest to gods, one of your worst fights. neither of you spoke to each other for days, until you broke your arm running from an enforcer. vi was the one who found you and lugged you over to vander’s so he could set the bone. you’d later learn that vi had twisted her ankle earlier running from that same enforcer, but she risked further injury just to get you home.

you think about how, though the world has never been kind to her, these past few years at stillwater….well, vi always seems unshakeable, but you notice her new scars and bloodied knuckles and bruises that are probably more than skin deep, and you know that it couldn’t have been easy having to survive there on her own.

“you deserve to feel good, violet.”

you brush your thumb over the lip she keeps gnawing at, wiping away the blood. the way vi looks at you then, powder blue eyes a shade or two darker and slightly glazed over, prompts you to cup her face gently. she grabs your wrist and squeezes it.

“i mean it, okay?” you murmur, pulling your hand away after vi presses a soft kiss to your palm. “let me take care of you, pretty girl. it’ll be worth your while,” you tease, remembering her words from before.

vi hums, something intense flicking behind her eyes.

“okay, stargirl. you’ve convinced me.” she gently grabs your chin, brings your face as close  to hers as possible, so close that you can practically feel the heat of her smile on your lips. “only if you let me take care of you after. deal?”

you swallow thickly, and don’t even need to think for a second when you say —

“deal.” 

and she kisses you to seal it. 

soon enough, you’ve got vi pressed down on the mattress, her shirt off, your hips in between her legs. you’re taking your time — biting at her collarbones, sucking down her sternum. she’s got more tattoos, of course, and her nipples. you wrap your lips around one of them, letting the cool metal of her piercing burn through your tongue. when you pull away with a pop, she whines, and you just have to do the same to the other side. your teeth sink into her abs, your tongue traces over the stars on her hips, until you reach her navel. you trace a finger down the happy trail that disappears underneath the waistband of her panties, which, you can’t help but notice, now have a darker patch in the middle. you finally pull her underwear down her legs, exposing her to you in all her glory.

“hurry up,” vi whimpers when you busy yourself kissing the inside of her thighs, rather than where you know she wants you most.

“you always were impatient,” you chide. “i’ve barely touched you, and it seems like you’re already about to cum.”

you spit on her already glistening pussy before looking back up at her expectantly, eager to make her beg even more. vi’s blushing, a rare but beautiful sight.

she clears her throat, cheeks dusted red. 

“please, we don’t have all the time in the worl—”

vi’s cut off by you running your tongue through her folds. you just love how her thighs instinctively squeeze around your head — your lungs, not quite attuned to your desires, unfortunately require more than what’s between vi’s legs to keep going, so you have to pull them apart. you make up for it, though, and you gather some of her slick to sink two fingers into her heat.

“fuck. fuck,” vi moans. she tangles her hands in your hair, fingers tightening at the roots when you suck her clit harshly. “fuck, you’re so good to me. fuck.”

you hum against her cunt, and work in a third finger, reaching that spot deep inside her that has her crying out in pleasure. you add in your tongue, and vi locks her ankles behind your head to bring you impossibly closer. this time, you stay there until she reaches you feel her tighten around you. you don’t stop, and fuck her through another orgasm that has her body writhing and your lungs burning.

you just don’t want to leave, the velvet softness and saltiness of her more intoxicating than any drink you’ve ever had. but, vi’s tugging impatiently at your hair and whining —

“oh, god, please come up here.”

— so you kiss her cunt goodbye, just for now, and you journey back up her body. your lips, coated in vi’s own release, stick to her skin as you go. when you’re eye to eye with her once more, you kiss her, allow her to taste herself on your tongue. you pull away to quip: 

“that’s not my name, sweetheart, but i’m flattered.”

vi smiles, her lips shining with your saliva and her cum. it makes you want to dive back in for more, but she beats you to it.

“my goddess,” she mumbles against your lips, moving to bite underneath your jaw, down your neck. her nails scrape against your stomach and she teases the waistband of your pants. “get rid of these — it’s time for me to take care of you.”

and how could you say no to that? 

as you get up to remove the rest of your clothes, vi sits up, watching you with her bottom lip caught between her teeth. 

yeah, she’s impatient, reaching for you as soon as you're done and positioning your thighs on either side of her hips. you hiss when your bare cunt rubs up against her abdomen, and vi’s eyes are now the darkest you’ve ever seen them, pupils blown wide. 

“huh. you like that, gorgeous?” she taunts, kissing between your breasts.

and now she’s got you all whiny and desperate. you love how rough her bandaged hands feel as they grip your hips, guiding your movements, and how hot her mouth is against your skin as her teeth, tongue, and lips explore every inch of your body. she lingers on your tattoo, sucking harsh bruises among delicate flowers. her hands roam from your hips to your inner thighs, spreading you open while pressing you down. you’re completely blissed out as your pussy squelches against her strong, defined muscles. you love how her body reacts to your pleasure as if it’s her own — her abs clench between your legs and her heart beating fast against your chest. 

“that’s it,” vi groans, encouraging you. “how’d i get so lucky, huh? to have such a pretty girl make a mess all over me?”

it’s very hard to formulate a thought, and all you can do is breathe out vi’s name like a prayer. 

she thrusts up one more time and presses her mouth onto yours, swallowing your moans and guiding you harder, faster. 

after your orgasm crashes over you, vi rolls over so that she’s on top of you. she rests her forehead against yours, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. 

“you think you can handle one more?” 

you nod desperately, smiling up at her. vi’s body is firmly against yours, her stomach wet and sticky with you. 

“i thought so,” vi chuckles. she kisses down your cheek, along your jaw, to behind your ear where your star-shaped birthmark greets her. “what’ll it be, stargirl? tongue, fingers, both?”

you shiver. if you had more time, more energy, you’d beg for her it all, but for now you answer:

“just your fingers, please.” you brush your thumb over the tattoo on her cheek, looking into those eyes of hers that you’d like to imagine only soften this way for you. “i want – need – to see your beautiful face while you fuck me.”

and again, vi blushes. she kisses you, hard, before shoving her fingers into your cunt.

her fingers really do feel like magic, like bliss, long and thick, and curving into you perfectly. her thumb rubs tight circles into your clit, her bandaged palm scratching deliciously against your folds. vi’s strong and fast and she’s pretty much fucking her tongue down your throat. 

you feel so wonderfully full and you’re already so sensitive that the elastic in your stomach tightens and tightens and just snaps. you throw your head back, jaw falling slack as overwhelming pleasure rushes through you. you dig your nails into her shoulders to ground yourself, and she hisses into your mouth when you scrape them down her back. 

“fuck, you’re so hot.” vi practically growls, biting your bottom lip. “can’t get over you — like a goddamn vice. be a good girl for me and give me one more, yeah? please.” 

and how can you say no to that — vi on top and deep inside of you, eyes dark and sinful and waiting for your command, eager to have her way with your body because she just can’t get enough? 

you whimper when vi finally removes her fingers from your cunt and sucks them into her mouth.

“better than i imagined,” she grins and actually winks at you. then, she shoves her fingers down your throat as if she knew how empty you felt, and you greedily lap up whatever mess was left.

then, vi takes away her fingers and places the sweetest, softest kiss on your lips before adjusting to lay down on her side. 

“i…i wasn’t too rough, was i?” she whispers, idly tracing fingers on your damp skin. 

you shake your head, smiling. her body is something divine — littered with familiar and unknown scars, muscles strong from carrying the weight of the world. but there’s also proof of the soft curve of your mouth against her skin, the harsh indents of your nails. there’s a desire deep within you hoping those never fades, like that dull, delicious ache between your legs that she left behind. 

the remnants of everything you’ve tasted of hers tonight linger on your tongue as you promise:

“no. you were….are amazing.”

vi nestles into the curve between your neck and shoulder. her teeth graze your pulsepoint as you run your hand through her hair.

you’re both exhausted and sweaty and sticky, but, by god, if you didn’t just find heaven. 

and though you’re deeply satisfied, you’re hungry, too, so you get up to find what you had taken from the kitchen earlier. vi sits up and watches eagerly as you peel the fruit, the smell of citrus dancing between you. you break it in half, watch her hesitate before accepting and devouring it. you’re in comfortable silence while eating. some juice drips down her chin, and you reach over to brush it away with your thumb. vi lets you push your thumb into her mouth to lick it up and you’re biting your lip before she crashes her mouth against yours once more. your hands are sticky as you cup her cheeks, and her lips are sticky against yours, but you don’t care. you think this is the sweetest orange you’ve ever tasted. 

you look out the window. the sky has gone from black to a deep purple, the stars now starting to fade.

in a few hours, vi is heading topside and you’re staying down here to keep the fort down while ekko’s gone with her to the council. best case scenario, you see each other again, continue whatever has simmered between you over the years and boiled over tonight.

worst case scenario….

it doesn’t matter. 

for now:

vi rests her hand on your ribcage while you notch a leg over her hip. 

“g’night, stargirl.” 

you nudge your nose against hers.

“sweet dreams, vi.”

vi kisses your forehead.

“i’ve got you to thank for those.”

you melt against each other and drift off into the best sleep you’ve both had in a while.

[creamflix]

cw: mutual + guided masturbation, sort of angst. "just (childhood/best) friends" trope

the air was thick, too heavy for your tiny dorm room. it carried something unspoken, lingering on the line that you and satoru never dared to cross but always, somehow, ended up toeing.

"come on," he said, voice a little breathless, eyes sparkling with that dangerous mix of mischief and vulnerability that always got you into trouble. "we said we'd help each other out, didn’t we?"

his hands worked at his waistband, and your mouth went dry when he pushed it down, revealing pale skin that seemed to glow even in the dim light. your throat tightened. this wasn’t the same as hickeys or kisses, those could be brushed off as experiments. this was different. this was dangerous.

but you didn’t back out. you never could, not with him.

“you don’t have to be shy,” he murmured, eyes dipping to your fingers as they trembled over your own waistband. his voice softened, taking on that coaxing, honey-sweet tone he reserved just for you. “you’re so pretty like this, you know? all nervous and flustered. makes me wanna take care of you.”

your breath hitched, and his lips quirked into a sly smile. "there it is," he teased. "that little sound you make. keep going — wanna hear what other noises you’ll make for me."

"this is insane," you muttered, your voice shaky but not convincing enough to stop your hands from moving. the first touch sent a shiver through you, and you bit your lip, too aware of his gaze on you.

“nah, it’s not insane,” he countered, his voice lower now, tinged with something darker. "it’s us. we’re just...helping each other, right?” his hand wrapped around his dick, and the sight made heat pool in your stomach. “fuck, you look good like this. don’t stop — don’t you dare stop.”

you couldn’t even if you wanted to. not with the way he was looking at you, eyes flicking between your face and the slow, tentative movements of your hand. every groan, every hitched breath from him sent sparks down your spine.

“faster,” he urged, his voice strained now, his own hand matching your rhythm. “fuck, that’s it. so fucking pretty, just like that. bet you’d feel so good if i —”

“satoru,” you gasped, cutting him off. his name on your lips came out breathless, and he groaned, loud and unrestrained.

“say it again,” he demanded, his voice rough, his strokes quickening. "wanna hear you say my name when you — fuck, when you cum."

you tried to keep it in, tried to hold back the tide threatening to pull you under, but his gaze pinned you down, and his words stripped you bare. “satoru,” you whispered again, and the look in his eyes turned feral.

“that’s my girl,” he panted, his hips bucking into his hand. “fuck — keep goin', just like that. you’re close, aren’t you? i can see it — can feel it.”

it all blurred — the heat, the desperation, the way his voice broke when he moaned your name as he came, spilling over his hand and your sheets. the sight alone was enough to send you spiraling, and he was on you in an instant, pressing kisses to your tear-streaked cheeks, his mouth moving over yours like he was starving.

“you’re so good,” he whispered, his voice softer now but no less intense. “so fucking good for me. always.”

“this...this is what friends do, right?” you asked, your voice trembling, searching for reassurance in his eyes.

his gaze softened for a moment, a flicker of something more, before he leaned in to kiss you again, deeper this time. “yeah,” he murmured against your lips, even though the word didn’t quite feel like the truth. "this is what we do."

but the way his hands cradled your face and the way he whispered “i love you” as you both tried to catch your breath felt like anything but.

produced by creamflix on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not copy, steal, modify, repost — support your writers by liking and reblogging. ♡

[commandershepardvasfuckit]

M!Minotaur x reader

Will eventually be a full nsfw series (reader being courted by Ahanu and another minotaur who are constantly trying to one up each other for the reader’s attention).

————

You sniffled as you held the little bird. It had only hatched a few weeks ago but fell from the nest and died. You had been checking on the nest almost daily once you had seen an egg in it, excited to see it hatch and grow up.

Maybe it was silly how upset you were over the bird. Back at home you were often teased for being too soft, for crying too easily, for always taking everything so hard, but you could not help it.

It felt wrong just to leave it on the ground, the little thing deserved more dignity than that. You set it back down and started to dig a hole with your bare hands next to the tree, figuring that was the best you could do for it.

You did not hear the footsteps approaching, nearly jumping out of your skin when suddenly there came a voice.

“And what is it that you’re up to out here on your own?” It was Ahanu, a minotaur hunter here in the village.

He looked over your shoulder, surveying your dirty hands, the hole, and the little bird. “Oh, from the nest you’ve been watching.”

You turned to face him and started wailing and he immediately pulled you into a hug while you waited for him to tell you that you were overreacting.

He was soft and warm, and you melted into his embrace, his steady heartbeat was comforting as you pressed your face against him.

You took a deep breath to steady yourself before speaking, “I know it’s silly, circle of life and all that, it’s just a bird.”

“It’s not silly. You were so excited about it, and a loss of life is always sad, no matter how small” he reassured you. “Instead of burying it why don’t we make a pyre?”

You nodded against his chest. Humans buried their dead, but minotaurs believed that the spirit was trapped on this plane until the body completely returned to the earth, wrapping and burning their dead before spreading the ashes.

“I can gather some wood” you said.

“Why don’t we do this the right way, yeah? It meant a lot to you so why not give it a full funeral?” Ahanu asked.

“That’s too much just for a bird” you muttered.

“No it’s not, this bird meant a lot to you, it deserves to be laid to rest with care.”

Ahanu helped you to your feet and carefully carried the bird back to the village to the earth speaker. You felt embarrassed as he explained to the earth speaker that you needed funerary cloth for a bird, though the speaker treated it solemnly like any other death and without judgement.

Once outside Ahanu lead you to where the pyres were built at the edge of the village and began digging through the wood pile to find enough small sticks to built it. You watched as he took great care choosing the sticks and binding them together to make the little raised platform for the funeral. Once he was satisfied with it he carefully wrapped the bird in the cloth, tucking in the ends and making sure everything was tidy and just so.

The two of you sat on the ground as he finished preparing everything, finally placing the bird on the pyre.

“Great mother of the earth, welcome this spirit back into your embrace, let its ashes return to the earth and nourish those who still live, and bring comfort to those who will miss it. May this fire cleanse any regrets and light the way.”

At this point you were wailing again as he lit the pyre, equal parts for the bird and over the kindness he was showing for you.

He softly rubbed you back as he sat next to you on the ground, never once trying to rush you, just patiently letting you cry it out.

You leaned against him, eyes stinging from crying and nose running. He leaned his head against the top of yours and hugged you, just being a reassuring presence.

“Whenever you’re ready we can gather the ashes, but there is no hurry” he said.

You nodded against his chest, too stuffy and out of breath to really speak.

He helped you spread the ashes around the tree where the nest was, hugging onto you while you cried again.

“Why don’t you come over for lunch?” he offered.

“Thank you, but I’m not hungry” you said.

“That’s just the sadness talking, and you always like my cooking when I bring you food. Come keep me company while I make lunch, it’ll help keep your mind busy.”

You nodded. He was right on all accounts, it did sound nicer to not be alone right now.

[blondedkittie]

I am BEGGING for more exhusband Rafe… we all know they’ll only ever really want each other but imagining jealous Rafe thinking someone is trying to take his ‘wife who isn’t his wife but totally is still HIS wife’, I know it would be deliciousssssss! Especially with wifey acting like she doesn’t notice anything wrong - hint! - she does 😉

when exhusband!rafe's little girl obliviously spits out, "mommy has a 'new friend' that comes over sometimes! he's so nice!" it has him floored.

18+ smut, mdni!

rafe had been arguing back and forth with clients about a deal. already angry and out of patience all while having to watch his daughter on top of it all. it was a lot to take in during the heat of the moment.

he's letting the four year old babble his ears away, answering some emails in the living room while the child ruined the place with toys. his eyes snap up, all wide before giving a confused face and he's pushing away his laptop for a second, leaning in with one ear to make sure he heard those words right.

and when it's confirmed, he's at a loss of words. letting out a "hmph." and nodding, before adding a, "that's uhh, that's unfortunate."

he's back and forth with his feelings. between giving you the benefit of the doubt or letting all his anger take over and let his feelings get hurt. in the end though, he's sick to his stomach thinking too much about you wrapped up in the sheets with some other guy that definitely doesn't know how to take care of you like he does━━ pushing aside his work and stressing out his mind.

it's the next day that he's going out to the country club to drink and relax his mind. being cooped up at work and at home burning himself out, you consistently consuming his thoughts. he just can't take it anymore.

rafe walks in with their daughter on one hip, a small smug smile on his face all while she laughs away at something he said earlier in the truck. putting her down and scanning the country club bar before his eyes set on you, with another man.

you'd met him only about two weeks ago and he had a little daughter of his own. starting to invite him over while he brings his own daughter in for a play date, it's no harm.

while you intentionally kept it from rafe you hadn't seen a problem with it and it's evident in the way you laugh, eyes sparkling and hands roaming over his forearm while he's eyeing you up and down.

rafe's pissed, no doubt. you see it when you catch his eyes, bringing the sweet margarita drink up to your lips and keeping a small smirk all while taking a sip before your kid is running up to you, a small squeal and a big hug to your legs.

cooing at her, rafe's eyes alter from you and the guy. he's a pussy. rafe can tell by the way the guy just stands and he's already scoffing under his breath. his stomachs in a twist and he looks as devastated as the day you'd thrown your ring back at him. he still wears his ring for christ sake and your fucking up his mind the way your giving a teasing look, knowing what you're causing him.

a game of cat and mouse.

he's letting out a huff through the nose, not even thinking about greeting you before he's calling out, "c'mon, mommy's clearly busy with some sucker. hurry up and let's go, don't have time right now." a whines leaving the little girls lips but she's running straight back to her daddy anyways because he's her favorite. he's picking her up, walking out, and not looking back. fighting back small tears as he then drives off.

your minds in shambles after that, genuinely watching as he walks away with parted lips and wide eyes and although it was fun to know that he's still onto you, it's hurting you to see your favorite man all upset because of you. his usual confident stride no longer there.

it's your turn to pick up your daughter now. all giddy and excited while you're stood in front of rafe's front door with a sugary sweet smile on your lips. typical whenever you're visiting your ex husband.

you expect his praises and hands all over you as soon as he opens the door but instead, your met with a dead look in his face. staring you down as he opens the door wide and silence is taking over the two of you. nervously, you're watching him with guilt tripped eyes as you walk in and he's closing the door a little too loud. snatching the diaper bag for your daughter and walking past you with no sign of any affection and it has you pouting so big.

he's walking right back out empty handed and he's stomping all around the house. it has you watching with wide and scared eyes, stomach turning in a sick way.

"kids asleep, need to talk t'you. upstairs." and he's tugging at your arm, eyebrows sinched together as you look him over and he's not even wearing his engagement ring anymore. that's enough to have you batting your lashes away with worried tears swelling in your eyes.

"go sit outside, clearly you've lost your damn mind." he's rough housing you. pushing you towards the balcony that's right outside the master bedroom and your immediately sat, eyes towards the ground and swallowing down the fear which holds your head in a choke-hold.

is he done with me? did i overdo it?

quite frankly, he was close. but not close enough because nothing could ever really push him over the edge. he understands the way you fein for attention and he knows the ways which you like to play for fun at times. but the way you played that type of game has him so angry and he feels his old self creep back for just a tiny bit.

you hear a bit of shuffling around, before he's coming out with his ring and yours. holding them up to your face. "see these two things? the things that tied us t'gether. did none of that shit matter to you?" he's so hurt when he says those last words, shaking his head slightly because he just cannot believe their having this conversation.

you're blinking dumbly up at him, words not coming out of your mouth before he's bending down and getting right up into your face. "when i talk to you, you answer, got it? understand? good." he's not even waiting for you to reply and that's how you know he's so done.

"of course it matters to me, i was only-" and he's grabbing your jaw, forcing you to look up at him. his eyes are scary, and it's so new for you because he's usually so in love. so soft and gentle with you but he's got you wanting to run away and it has you so angry with yourself.

"we have a daughter t'gether, and you're all out and about with some- some guy while i'm sat here catering to everything you fuckin' have! you like that? like seeing me this mad?" and he's aggressively letting go of your jaw as he's taking in a breath, standing up straight, and shutting his eyes while he pinches his nose.

"'m sorry, didn't mean to make you so angry i was only being selfish." shaking your head before you're watching him sit down next to you, leaned forward and rubbing his face. "so sorry, i really mean it."

he's not really acknowledging your words, tongue in mouth before he's speaking up again. not looking at you, but forward, deep in thought.

"you guys fucking? how long has he been going around your house. the house i pay for." he's saying it with a mix of a calm and angry tone, and the silence isn't helping his thoughts.

you're debating, and you know you shouldn't. know it's better to actually tell him but the fear of losing him over this has you freaking out like never before. "just.. just like two weeks. not long, he has a daughter he-" she's cutting herself off. watching the way he looks over his shoulder, dead eyes and tongue glazing over the back of his cheek as his head is tilted to get a better look at you.

"i'm sorry." you whimper out. he scoffs, shaking his head and standing up to rub his face once more.

"when i sit here and give you everything, what makes you think it's okay to mess with me like that? to fuck with my head s'much. because i'm one step closer to putting you out on your god damn own, think you can survive? huh!?" he's practically roaring his words and you're so startled.

tears touching your poor cheeks and bottom lip wobbling before you're standing up with hands over your eyes, falling into his embrace.

"'m serious! didn't mean it will never do it again just- please don't leave me. only want you rafe, i promise. will do anything for you." rambling words into his chest while he stands there, jaw clenched and eyes straight forward before he's stroking your hair and wrapping his big beefy arms over your delicate body.

"shh, gonna- gonna make this right okay? just gotta learn to give me some respect, yeah? i'm the god damn daddy of your child, baby what d'you think this is?" he's scoffing to himself, bending his head down to kiss all over your cheek.

"can you put your ring back on." a small huff leaving your mouth and he's nodding, chuckling in mockery before forcing your face up by his hand gripping your jaw and giving you a good, sloppy kiss.

"i'll put it back on once this pussies good to act right." he's letting go of your jaw, tapping your cheek lightly with his hand and gripping your clothed cunt. "yeahh," he begins, smiling all wide while you mirror his expression before he's going straight faced and tone serious, "go get on the bed, since you wanna make me put you in your place. seems you forgot it, a shame. coulda' gotten a creampie t'day if you really acted right."

˖ ݁ ݁˖ ≽ܫ≼

the harsh sounds of fucking are ringing through the room, rafe's harsh slap to your ass causing a muffled squeal out of your mouth while you drooled all over the pillows.

he's got one hand on the headboard, keeping it from banging on the wall while the other is gripping an ass cheek and everything hurts so so good. eyes watery and rolling back with each thrust he put force into.

"bet he doesn't- nah, couldn't fuck you like i do huh? already know the fuckin' answer." he's angry all over again, jaw clenched and eyes fluttering from the way your leaking all over his dick and his words got your pussy fluttering.

you're letting out a "mm-mm" in agreement before being tugged up by your hair, a moan leaving your worked out throat. "fuck, got you all pathetic, hah." he's giving a mean mocking laugh, tugging your hair harder.

"'s too much! please, can't take it anymore." you're practically yelling out before he's letting out a 'tsk' and pushing your head back into the pillow, his pants being heard right above your ear as his weight can be felt on your back.

"say no ones better, cause' i know- fuckkk, know you'd never meet anyone like me. say you're my girl, baby." his voice is low, and so intimidating. has you squeezing your pussy tight around him and his hips stutter, a low groan being let out right into your neck. kisses being trailed all along your shoulder.

"i'm-! i'm your girl!" moaning out while overstimulation courses over you and it's as if he sensed it. rubbing circles harshly onto your clit from behind before he's wrapping a hand around your throat and making you sit up on your knees straight, the angle making your eyes roll back.

"my girl, huh? better keep that shit in check, greedy bitch." and he's sending a slap to your tit before pushing you back into the mattress. ass up, face down.

he really is the best man around.

[kingnem10]

A magicless human, dumped in a world not your own. Your old life, left behind through no choice of your own. Surrounded by villains, all looking at you as a nuisance. Someone due to be stomped out by the strong. A wild cat as your pet, something you’re forced to take care of. A creaky old dorm, the only shelter you’ve been graciously given by your glorious headmage. Nobody looks your way, unless you’re having to solve a problem.

But, a glimmer of hope. The closest thing to comfort in your new life. Deuce Spade, and Ace Trappola. From the Heartslaybul dorm, ruled by the ruthless queen of hearts. Ace and Deuce, slightly abrasive personalities, especially with each other, and yet, they’re your best friends. You feel less alone finally. The trio, quartet if you count your cat Grim, for better or worse, going on adventures. You have their back, and they have yours.

And you needed each others backs when the housewarden of Heartslaybul, Riddle Rosehearts, cracked. Overblotted. Stingy at minimum with the rules, now a full on tyrant, a tyrant intent on destruction. People WILL follow the rules, or off with their heads, and you, the magicless human, are a target.

It was the most terrified you’ve ever been since arriving in this world. It was the first time you felt in complete and utter danger, that you may not get out of this alive.

But, Ace and Deuce had your back, and everyone banded together, defeated Riddle, who returned back to his normal state. Everything after that? A blur. There was crying, there was apologies, there was a special unbirthday party you were invited too, and everyone was smiling, happy.

So…why are you sitting in your bed in Ramshackle, staring at the wall? Shouldn’t you be happy? Why are tears streaming down your face, your body trembling as you bury your face in your hands. You won, go back to your new normal. Everyone else is.

Ace and Deuce were downstairs when they heard your sobbing, freezing when they got near your door, unsure of what to do. Deuce opens the door first, seeing you shaking, crying, vulnerable.

For once, there’s no jokes from Ace. Deuce doesn’t hesitate when he sees you like this. Climbing into your bed, sitting next to you, and hugging you, pulling you closer to him as his touch makes you struggle to breathe.

Grim climbs into the bed next to you. Ace gets a bit closer, closing the door behind him. Deuce whispers in your ear.

“hey…it’ll be ok…it’ll be ok”

You cling to him tighter, desperate to ground yourself, begging for him to please not to leave you alone right now. Ace and Deuce exchange a look to each other. The fear radiating off of you, even to them.

You’re just a human, no magic, no ties to anyone. You don’t belong here, and now? The risk of death is higher than ever before. The only hope, things will get better. That you will find a way home, or find a new home in this world. Until then, smile, just be happy, it’s what the headmage would want anyways.

[alleywaymeetcute]

Oh boy, I'm actually the perfect person for these questions so I guess I should give answering them a try lol

I'll be honest. I have no idea what fandom introduced me to the Omegaverse. It feels like this trope is synonymous with fandom in general since we invented it. I wouldn't have known about it though until I started reading slash fanfiction, not to mention I feel like AO3 encourages this trope more than fanfiction.net did in my youth. So, I probably didn't read it regularly until my later teens and adulthood when I would have ditched fanfiction.net for the superior AO3.

I want to add that I actively write omegaverse, not just read it, so I know the ins and outs of the trope really well. Um, so, I'll say there's not actually all that many trends to speak of because the trope is versatile and ever changing. Every one knows the basics and then puts their own spin on it. No two fics I've written have ever been the same, and no two fics I've read have either. I'll say things like nesting, scenting, knotting, heats/ruts, mating bites, social hierachy all tend to appear in every fic. Likewise, this trope comes into contact with pretty much every other fic trope under the sun. For example, I've written a fic that spliced omegaverse with soulmates, but literally every type of story can have omegaverse included. Sometimes people add werewolves!

I have noticed on AO3 that there are, like, sneaky omegaverse fics. What I mean by this is that you'll be reading the summary of a fic and it won't mention omegas or alphas or betas, but then you'll look at the tags and, whoops, there it is! I think this is really funny that some stories treat omegaverse like it's just an afterthought and not important enough to make the audience aware of it right away. Though I think that because this trope is so prominent this behaviour some authors have in neglecting to mention omegaverse in their summaries probably piss people who don't like the trope off. Hey, I like the trope and become agrivated by this habit! Although AO3 has the abilty to exclude now, so it probaby only annoys people like me lol.

What I like the most about omegaverse is its social commentary. Maybe it's the autism, but I like that every person goes into a strict box and is expected to act based on the instincts they were given. I like exploring how different characters react to that environment, how some accept their world with open arms while others either reject it, struggle to conform or feel insecure about their capabilities. I think omegaverse gives an author an easy sandbox to play in as there's already a skeleton to start with and that was what drew me in. The moment I get into a new fandom one of my first fanon thoughts is what omegaverse type I would give to each character, even if I never plan to seriously write any. It's like ingrained in my mind to wonder about it. I think it actually helps me start to get into characters' heads that way 'cause I have to think hard about it lol.

Omegaverse is associated with non-con/dub-con, but I don't feel like there's actually that many fic that explore that anymore. I think if there HAS been a change as the years go by it would be that omegas aren't treated as helpless during heats as much. I certaintly hate that trope and prefer when the omega has more control, so I'll avoid anything that puts the omega in too vulnerable of a situation. I think the alpha should implicitly take care of the omega, not take from them when they're vulnerable and needy. Another draw for me is definitely the caregiver aspect of omegaverse and if it doesn't feel like the alpha is there to look after the omega's needs I don't give a shit about that story. What's the point, you know?

Also, I don't like intersex omegaverse. I think it's an important part of omegaverse and should exist, but I'm squicked out by P in V sex and just can't stomach it. I read slash to avoid stuff like that, but at least half of the fic seems to cater to intersex interpretations, but hey, the other half caters to me so it's fine. :)

I guess what I'd like people who don't like omegaverse to understand is that the trope isn't just smut lol. Like I AM reading and writing it for those reasons, but a lot of it can be about their day-to day lives or interpersonal dynamics. It's the world at large, not just the kinky sex. Not all omegaverse fic is adult rated, omegaverse like all tropes can be rated from G to E. I'm sure there's a fic out there for everyone, no matter how much you protest you hate the trope. A person who hates heats and knotting might just find themselves really enjoying a domestic child rearing fic if they only gave it a try. I think it's better than judging omegaverse enjoyers or begrudging the tropes existance anyway.

Omegaverse readers & writers!! I want to hear from you!!!

Firstly — Yes — I have already done a lot of research. I don’t need the basics explained to me or the fact that it is an incredibly diverse genre with examples good writing, bad writing, good social commentary, bad social commentary, expansive thoughtful worldbulding, raunchy porn without plot, and everything in between.

What I’m looking for with this post is personal experiences and opinions from people who read/ write this content since I am not one. Feel free to link any fics that exemplify what you’re talking about.

you can write as much or as little as you like, answer as many or as few of the questions as you like:

What fandom introduced you to omegaverse?

What trends and developments have you noticed as the genre has grown over the past 14-ish years?

what initially intrigued you about it?

Are there similar genres, tropes, etc, that you also enjoy? (ie. werewolf or other supernatural romance, science fiction which explores alternative biology) basically, how does omegaverse fit into your wider literary tastes?

what do enjoy most about it?

what are some elements you avoid or are critical of?

Any specifics or nuances you want the non-omegaverse reading public to know about

In case anyone is coming across this post without knowing who i am — Hi! I’m a youtuber and I make videos about online subculture, fandom, and such.

Your comment on this post may be read aloud in an upcoming video!! Please specify if you would like me to censor your url or leave it visible.

[cressidagrey]

Holy Ground - Chapter 8 (The End

Summary:

Nobody knew that Azriel found his mate. Until she nearly died. This is the aftermath.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), Inner Circle Bashing (kinda), Referenced/Implied Sexual Assault, Referenced/Implied Domestic Violence, Discussion of Religion(?), Chronic Injury/Pain/Illness, Minor Character Death (It's probably nobody you love), Magical Work Accidents, Explosions, Injuries

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

Irena told the shadows that she was finished. The service was over…and quite frankly…she was done for the day. Tired and sad and angry and a thousand other things. 

He came to get her in seconds, lifting her up silently, not saying a single thing.  

"Are you alright?" she asked Azriel softly. She could feel...something through that fledgling mating bond....something she couldn't quite place. He just nodded, mutely, and she took that to mean that he wasn't really fine.

"Mor apologised to me," he said softly.

"Well, that's..." Something, Irena supposed. Probably the least the Morrigan owed Azriel, but it was something.

"What did you say?" she asked curiously as Azriel carried her back to his room.

"That I need time," Azriel said simply. "I need time. They all apologised. But that doesn't just...erase years of hurt. It doesn't."

Irena nodded slowly, her arms wrapped loosely around his neck. "No," she said quietly. "It doesn't." She could see the pain in his eyes, hear it in his voice. Decades of hurt, years and years of suffering, it couldn't just vanish after an apology.

She could only imagine the complexity of his feelings: anger, hurt and...a hint of hope.

They were all there, swirling together, warring against each other. 

He had loved Mor for centuries. He still loved her, even now. The thought pained Irena in a way she hadn't expected.

Irena knew that Azriel loved her. She didn’t doubt that for a second…but he’d loved Mor longer than he'd even known her. 

And she knew that…there was a part of his heart…that would probably always…always be for her…for the first female he had ever loved. For the female who had hurt him again and again.

But it wasn't a competition, Irena reminded herself. Azriel's love for Mor did not mean he didn't love her. It was not an either or thing. He could love them both, in different ways.

His arms squeezed her gently, pulling her closer to his broad chest.

"Whatever you are thinking, stop it," Azriel said with a sigh. "I love you. Mor isn't some kind of competition to you. You are my mate, the love of my existence. There is no competition."

Irena blinked, startled that he had seen straight through her. She ducked her head, unable to look at him. "I...I didn't-” she started, her voice strangled, but he didn't let her finish.

He stopped abruptly, adjusting his hold on her so she was facing him. Irena met his gaze, the intensity in his eyes stealing her breath away.

"You are my mate, Irena," Azriel repeated, his voice low and ragged. "You are my mate, the other half of my soul, given to me by the mother herself. There is no one who can replace you, no one who could even come close. Do you understand that?"

Irena stared at him, her heart fluttering at the ferocity in his voice. She nodded slowly. "I...I understand," she said, her voice a mere whisper.

Azriel's eyes bore into hers, as if he was trying to communicate the depth of his feelings without words. "Good," he said finally, his voice rough. "Because I don't want you to ever doubt that," he said, his words firm, leaving no room for misinterpretation.

"I love you too," she told him softly.

That seemed to soothe something in Azriel, the tension leaving his body, his eyes softening. "You, me and the bed," he said, his voice a low rumble. "Sounds like the perfect end to an awful day."

"Bath," she corrected him softly. "You, me and the bath."

He stared at her wide-eyed.

"Bath?" he asked her softly.

"Bath," she agreed, biting her lip. "I just...I just want to feel you," she said softly. She just wanted…

Azriel's eyes darkened, understanding what she meant. He drew in a ragged breath, his arms tightening around her, holding her even closer to him.

"Alright," he said huskily. "Bath it is."

She should have known that even...even when she invited her mate to share a bath with her...he was a perfect gentleman. Averting his gaze as the shadows helped her sink into the bubbly concoction and then sliding behind her.

She maybe...maybe snuck a peek. Just one.

They weren't going to do anything...not that day...not with him still worried about her leg and after the day they both had...but just feeling his warm skin against her body...it was enough to make her forget...nearly everything else.

Azriel's large hands traced over her skin, his touch tender and gentle as he held her against him. The water was warm and soothing, and his bare skin against hers...it was intoxicating.

She could feel his muscles, the planes of his body, the warmth of his skin. It was enough to make her shiver, goose bumps rising on her flesh. And he seemed just as affected as her, his breathing ragged, his grip on her tight.

His lips ghosted over her shoulders, sending tingles through her body. She closed her eyes, arching her head back against him, her breath coming in shaky gasps.

His touch was light, yet firm, and oh so careful, as if he was scared to press too hard against her.

It was then she realised why he wasn't making any obvious moves to...continue their activities. He was being careful with her, worried about her leg.

She could feel the restraint in his every movement, in the way he held her. He was holding back, for her sake.

A rush of affection for him went through her, her throat constricting. She reached forwards, running her fingers over his hands, tracing the calloused, scarred flesh, before entwining her fingers with his.

She felt...safe. Secure. Cherished. Even more than before.

"You know the shadows never give me bubble baths," he said drily. Irena couldn't help but burst out in laughter. "I could get used to this."

"You are always welcome," she said softly.

"Good," he said huskily. He leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear. "Because I am going to make a habit of joining you."

She shivered against him, his words sending a bolt of heat through her. "I..." she began, her voice catching in her throat. "I wouldn't complain."

Azriel hummed, his body pressing against hers, his hands moving on her skin. "Is that so?" he said in a low, velvety voice.

"No complaints," she managed to say, her voice shaky. "None at all."

Azriel's grip on her tightened, pulling her more closely to him, his lips gently nipping at her earlobe. "None?" he repeated, his voice a little hoarse.

Irena's breath hitched, her body pressed flush against his. "None," she managed to say, a slight, blissful gasp in her voice.

Azriel let out a soft, pleased rumble, the sound sending a shiver of heat through her. "Good," he said hoarsely, his lips trailing down her neck.

She drew in a shaky breath, her head lolling back against his shoulder, giving him better access to her skin.

He made the most of it, nipping and kissing at her neck, his lips and teeth exploring her soft skin.

She could feel his desire, the restraint in his every movement, and it made her body tingle.

It was a far cry from everything else she had ever experienced...and she loved every second of it.

Her blood was burning, a low heat pulsing deep within her every time his skin met hers. She could feel him, the planes of his body, his breath against her skin, his lips on her neck...and he was driving her mad in the best way possible.

"You are everything I ever wanted, " Irena said softly.

Azriel stilled for a moment, her words making his heart clench. "Am I?" he said, his voice low and rasping.

Then he nipped her shoulder gently, a possessive gesture. "You are everything I never dared to dream of," he murmured against her skin

[luminiamore]

soul

basketball player ony x spiritual reader headcanons

୨୧ he absolutely has to keep one of the crystals you gave him with him. at all times. if he ever realizes he’s forgotten it—whether it’s on the way to practice or heading out for a big game—he’ll drop everything. no matter how tight the schedule is, he’ll make his entire team wait while he runs back to get it.

୨୧ he knows how sensitive and drained you get when you're surrounded by so many energies at once, and he could never put you in that position. so, even though he would love to have you at every game, he never allows you to come. instead, he’s making sure you're waiting for him in the locker room after.

୨୧ he takes the time to lock the door, ensuring that no one can hear anything, especially the sweetest cries you make when he's celebrating a big win. and when the rivalry match doesn't end in his favor-he's just as committed to making you feel his frustration. he’d end up carrying you to his car when he feels like he’s thoroughly dumped his anger past your warm sticky walls, your legs becoming jello.

୨୧ he was never the type to open up about his feelings, let alone imagine a future with anyone. seeing how dedicated you are to growing and evolving as a person, something shifted in him. he respected you deeply, more than he ever thought possible. for you, he started putting in the work—learning how to be more vulnerable, more present, and more open.

୨୧ you both became teachers to each other. he’d never admit it out loud, but you were slowly unraveling parts of him he didn’t even know were there. and just as much, he pushed you to continue evolving, helping you through your own challenges with the same dedication he put into his training.

୨୧ you two rarely argue. or ever really stay upset at each other. if he does something to make you upset you let him know rather than playing mind games, vice versa. ony would rather die than let you go to sleep upset at him. you will always talk it out. and get your pussy sucked clean after.

୨୧ he said “i love you” first, and while he tried to keep his cool and act like it was no big deal— on the inside, he was terrified. what if she don’t say it back? the simple thought almost made him second guess his decision. you did, of course.

୨୧ call him toxic, but unfortunately for you—breaking up is not an option. deep down, he knows you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him. he might make mistakes but he’s quick to learn from them, careful not to make them again. if you ever hinted at leaving, he’d beg on his knees, desperate to change your mind. his pride would be forgotten in a second.

୨୧ he’s the kind of man who starts taking care of himself because he knows that if he wants to be the best partner, he has to be the best version of himself too. he hits the gym regularly to clear his head, makes sure he’s eating right to stay energized, and starts working on his mental health—because you deserve someone who is just as mentally strong as you are.

୨୧ safe to say, you’re spoiled—but in the best way possible. he takes you to the crystal shop, and it’s like your personal shopping spree every time. he knows exactly what you need, picking out the most beautiful, rare crystals for your collection.

୨୧ he’s all in when it comes to your little quirks, even if it means spending hours at a thrift store. he’ll go with you, sifting through racks, helping you find those one-of-a-kind items you’re obsessed with. and when you find something perfect, he doesn’t hesitate. he’s dropping a bag, not because he has to, but because he wants you to feel special, like you deserve the best.

୨୧ all in all, he loves you. and it’s more than just the surface-level affection—it’s deep, real, and unwavering. he’s in love with you. every part of you. from the way you laugh to the way you challenge him to grow. you’re his lifeline, the one person who makes everything make sense.

[yanderestarangel]

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ "toki, mami, estoy puesto pa ti" — sevika x reader

♡┊tw: mtf!sevika, au, afab reader, mommykink, creampie, body worship, praise kink, ovestimulation, unprotected sex, breeding.

"Such a needy little thing, aren't you? So desperate for mommy's cock."

The words left the older woman's mouth as a hoarse and needy grunt.

After spending an entire day cleaning the mess that had been left on her back and taking care of Silco's affairs, Sevika was so horny that she arrived home with her cock hard, practically visible through her pants.

The bulge was rubbed on your ass as soon as she found you in some room. Feeling your scent and throbbing even more, she was needy, needing to take it all out on you and your beautiful body.

Clothes were quickly removed by the two of you, while Sevika whispered how much she missed you and how much she needed this, to bury herself in your pussy until she forgot all the stress and anger that made her muscles tense.

She was on top of you in the blink of an eye, her mechanical prosthetic hand gently but firmly holding your hip, making you shiver at the strangely cold sensation of the metal. Her other hand had two fingers inside your cunt, curling them as she let your juices drip onto the sheets. A soft and smug smile could be seen on the henchwoman's dark lips, her gaze clouded, and drops of precum already escaping from her throbbing length.

"You're adorable when you're dumb,.. Just thinking about when I'm gonna fuck you uh?? Like a good slut... So fucking hot."

Sevika's hand continued its torturously slow exploration between your legs, her fingers sliding through your slick folds, teasing your entrance. She loved how soft and smooth you felt, how perfectly you fit in her hand. Her fingers moved slowly, teasingly, brushing over your sensitive flesh and making you whimper and arch into her touch. However, she soon felt you wanting more. She felt your wet heat rubbing against her hardening cock, her hips bucking up involuntarily.

The tall woman gripped your hips tightly, guiding you as you ground against her, coating her shaft in your slick arousal. Sevika loved how eager you were, how you seemed to crave her touch, her body, with such intensity. She needed that, to feel that you were there, that everything was real. Sevika's hands slid down to grip your ass, kneading the soft flesh as she pulled you down onto her, the head of her cock nudging insistently at your entrance —She rocked her hips up, pushing the tip of her cock inside you, just barely breaching your tight hole. The sensation was electric, sending shivers down her spine.

"Damn, sweetheart... a-a fucking tight pussy, you're going to make me cum so hard..." —she forced herself to go slow, to savor every moment of this... Even if it was impossible with every obscene and beautiful sound that came out of your mouth every time your balls hit your ass. Sevika began to move, her hips rocking up to meet yours, setting a slow, deep rhythm.

Each thrust was measured and deliberate, designed to hit that sweet spot inside you that made your toes curl. But as much as she wanted to cum, to fill you up with her seed, Sevika knew she couldn't rush this. Not when you were looking at her with those big, pleading eyes, not when you were whimpering so sweetly for her touch.

So instead, she pulled out suddenly, making you both groan at the loss. But then she was rubbing the tip of her cock against your sensitive clit, the head slick with your juices, and you were crying out, your back arching beautifully; her hips rocking against you, the tip of her cock sliding through your wet folds, not quite entering you but teasing your entrance. It was maddening, the way she touched you, the way she denied you what you needed most.

"Do you really deserve to be fucked by me?... Or can't handle your own wife's dick...? You're so beautifully pathetic like this, barely able to deal with me." Sevika didn't wait for you to beg, not this time, going back inside your heat while she made you suck one of her breasts, firm but soft, making you moan into her soft skin... The volume of her cock in your belly made her drool, the thought of filling you up, breeding you, claiming you so completely - it was almost too much to bear.

"Fuck, baby," she growled, her hips snapping up harder, deeper. "You want mommy's cum inside this tight little pussy? Want me to knock you up?"

Her thrusts became erratic, losing their rhythm as she chased her own release. She could feel it building, that familiar tightening in her balls, the heat coiling at the base of her spine.

With a final, powerful thrust, Sevika buried herself to the hilt inside you, grinding her pelvis against yours as she let out a guttural moan. Her cock twitched and pulsed as she emptied herself into your waiting womb, painting your insides with thick ropes of her hot seed. It felt like it went on forever, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over her until she was spent, collapsing back against the bed.

Sevika held you close, her softening cock still nestled deep inside you, as you both caught your breath. She could feel the sticky evidence of her release seeping out around her shaft — "Mmm, fuck," she murmured, nuzzling into your neck. "Never gonna let you go... Gonna keep this pussy full of my cum, make sure you're always heavy with my child."

She rolled her hips lazily, enjoying the feeling of your warmth surrounding her. Sevika had never felt so possessive... She felt satisfied but not complete yet.

"round two baby?"

★ ! yanderestarangel©

[joelsbloodyhands]

Enjoy the Silence

SUMMARY: You come home from work and find yourself having sensory overload from everything. Joel comes home and takes care of you.

WARNINGS: no outbreak, no mention of Ellie 😭, established relationship with Joel, soft!Joel, descriptions of loud noises, reader gets big sad and unable to manage themselves, needs Joel for comfort, an overuse of terms of endearment (baby, sweetheart, honey), Joel is here to help with everything, sensory overload of touch, sounds, sensitive smell. Just absolute fluff (I need it so bad rn) 🤧 no use of y/n, gender neutral pronouns used, reader has hair long enough to tie up, reader has no visible disabilities. Reader loves Sarah. WE LOVE SARAH 🥺 but she’s unintentionally overwhelming us, sorry Babygirl 😭

Dividers by @nicodefresas 🎀

A/N: As I’m writing this, I’m currently having the worst sensory overload episode 😔 also I don’t think I should need to specify but everyone has different triggers and symptoms when dealing with overstimulation. A lot of this is based on my own personal experiences.

You don’t have the foggiest clue where it triggered from.

You just know that one minute you were grinding away at work, then you were driving home in the rain becoming all too aware of the blaring lights of other cars bothering your eyes more than they usually did.

If you could’ve worn sunglasses without crashing in the evening darkness, you would have. The sudden outburst of a car horn had you gripping the steering wheel tighter causing you to subconsciously flex your fingers, becoming all too aware of the rough leather of the steering wheel against your dry hands.

Dry hands. My lips are dry too.

You lick your lips.

My mouth tastes weird.

You’re becoming all too aware of your teeth grinding against each other.

Just tired, yeah…that’s all. Just tired. Long day at work. I’ll be fine once I get home.

So you keep driving.

Sarah was home when you got back. Her voice shaking you awake as soon as you passed the threshold of the house while she spoke to you about her day.

You look forward to these moments usually.

Coming back to Sarah and Joel.

Gossiping about the joys of working and all the drama of high school that you definitely don’t miss but enjoy hearing when Sarah gives you her best dramatic retelling of events.

Though as she followed you through the corridor to the kitchen, your ears rang.

Is she talking louder than normal?

You open the refrigerator, a sudden overwhelming scent of Thai green curry catching your senses and not in a good way.

But it’s your favourite?

Joel made it yesterday, putting the leftovers into three Tupperware boxes to eat for dinner today. The pounding of the washing machine and dryer causes you to close the refrigerator uneasily, your eyes glancing to it. Sarah’s voice joining the chorus of sounds echoing off the kitchen walls.

You don’t feel hungry all of a sudden.

“Are you okay?” Sarah voice breaks through and you come to realise you must have been staring at her for an awful long time, your eyes wide.

You nod and Sarah frowns ever so slightly.

“So what do you think?”

Your mind goes blank.

You didn’t even hear anything she said except yes you did but it was so loud, you didn’t take any of it in.

“About what?” You find yourself murmuring, your own voice startling you.

It sounds unfamiliar to you for some reason.

You’re worried you’ve upset her while Sarah takes a minute before a smile breaks out on her lips and she’s laughing and prodding you on the arm playfully. Your eyes drift there instinctively, her laughter making you wince.

You don’t laugh in return.

“Long day at work, huh?” She giggles and rolls her eyes before telling you she needs to go study and that you should eat dinner.

She leaves you then, your body standing in the same position in front of the refrigerator where she left you. The sound of her feet hitting against the staircase filling your head, the floorboards creaking harshly. You exhale a heavy breath.

As you stand there, eyes turning distastefully towards the washing machine and dryer singing their tune far too loud, your skin starts to itch. You tug at the sleeves of your work shirt, unbuckle the belt at your waist, the feeling too tight against your hips. You pull the hair tie from your wrist and put your hair up into a bun, the tickle of the hairs against the back of your neck bothering you.

You know what’s happening.

You’re just trying to refuse to accept that it is, hoping that for once you can just ignore it and go about the rest of your evening like you originally planned.

You just want to hear Joel’s voice, cuddle into him on the couch, eat your curry and go to bed.

Except when you hear the front door open and his voice is carrying through to the kitchen, you retract into yourself, carrying your feet away from the overwhelming sounds of mundane tasks and to the staircase. You want nothing more than to sit on the floor of your bedroom with your legs crossed and the lights off.

So you skip up the stairs, albeit with dramatic wide steps, trying not to trigger the creakiest of the floorboards. When you get to yours and Joel’s bedroom, flooded with darkness, you shut the door and allow yourself to crumble.

Ah you can’t take this. You need your shirt.

Where is it?!

You’re frantic, the tears falling down your cheeks as you continue to feel itchy in your work shirt, longing for the wide airy comfort t-shirt you keep for this very reason.

“Hey,” a whisper sounds behind you and you turn abruptly, eyes wide to see Joel stood, his eyes on you intently as he holds your oversized shirt by the shoulders in both hands.

Lost in all your distress, you hadn’t even heard him come in.

You realise you’re crying then.

“Joel, I-“

He watches you harshly rub at your face.

He knows you hate to be touched at times like this.

It feels like nails on a chalkboard but he ever so gently, puts two fingers to the wrist of your hand practically clawing at your face and you drop it immediately, your eyes meeting his again, pained and bloodshot.

“I’m sorry, Joel,” you cry, “I’m just-“ you flail your arms in frustration, the intense sound of your sobs making your eyes twitch.

“Hey, hey,” he whispers, moving towards you and taking the hem of your shirt in his fingers, careful not to graze any more skin as he starts to lift it from your body.

“You don’t need to apologise, baby,” he keeps whispering, “let’s get you more comfortable, hm?”

Joel knew all too well about your episodes.

In fact, it’s partly the reason of how he met you at Tommy’s house when you attended a barbecue and got overwhelmed by the music and sounds of neighbours, talking and getting louder the more drunk they got.

Joel had planned to leave early but was surprised when he found you curled in the bottom of a dark closet when he was retrieving his coat.

He froze when he saw you, your watery eyes lifting up at him, your arms wrapped around your knees pulled up against your chest.

Your cheeks had flushed dangerously, embarrassed about being found in this predicament but all Joel saw was a young woman clearly upset so he bent down to your level, his head turning this way and that scoping the corridor to make sure no one was around and asked you what was wrong and if he could help in any way.

You had shook your head so fast, the room span but Joel didn’t back away so easily.

Truth be told, you’d caught his attention all night and Tommy had nudged and smirked at him for noticing his eyes on you, encouraging him to go talk to you but he never did.

He couldn’t find a reason to.

Well, what more of a reason did he need than finding you sat with your back against a coat closet in his brothers house?

You had stood up so shakily that Joel found himself wanting to take you in his arms just to offer you some support to stand but you backed away when his hands instinctively held out to grab you if you fell.

He retracted them just as quick.

You told him you were fine and thanked him, saying you just needed to call an Uber and go home. You made the excuse that you’d had too much to drink and your head was spinning.

Dizzy and nauseous, you just needed somewhere dark to sit.

With the daunting thought in mind of having to sit in a stuffy taxi with a voice trying to make polite conversation with you, you didn’t catch Joel’s offer until you met his eyes again and he realised your blank expression, his back straightening and voice softening with a smile.

“If you need a dark closet, I got one at my place across the street if you need it?”

Somehow you laughed and even though your own voice hurt your ears, you found yourself saying, “if you’d said that to anyone else, you’d sound like a murderer,” and all it took was Joel’s pretty smile to take him up on his offer.

Except rather than a dark closet, he simply closed the curtains in his living room, offered you some chamomile tea, a blanket and sat in silence with you on the couch. And though your voices were silent, your mind was loud, finding it completely baffling that a man you just met and barely knew was being so incredibly sweet as to offer you a safe space. No questions asked.

Then he’d asked you out on a date and you were absolutely dumbfounded.

Later in your relationship, you had admitted what had happened and while he understood what it meant to feel overwhelmed (god did he feel it sometimes), sensory overload was a completely new term for him.

You explained as best you could, your cheeks the same shade of red he had seen when he found you in the closet. Joel took it upon himself when he was awake lying next to you, tangled up asleep in his bedsheets, to take his phone from his bedside and spend a good hour reading about what sensory overload was and how it can be eased.

You couldn’t believe your luck of finding this man. You practically thank that damn closet for it’s existence in Tommy’s house every time you visit.

So now you’re back in that predicament again and Joel is pulling back the covers from the bed, folding it up at the end knowing you just want a nice cool mattress to lay against.

Your heart twists at his care, tears falling from your eyes like rain, except Joel is the sun as warm and inviting as can be even when you want nothing more than to be left alone.

“Okay, honey,” he now whispers, knowing it’s easier to talk to you that way. His heart aches at the sight of you as he turns to face you, slowly walking so that his footsteps don’t make too much noise along the wooden floorboards.

“You wanna lie down? I’ll get you something to eat.”

“I don’t think I can eat, Joel,” you reply, your voice shaky as you lay down on the bed. Joel kneeling beside it, his palms flat on the mattress beside you while you lay on your side looking up at him.

“Usually liquids are best, right? Soup? Or I could make you a smoothie? And a cup of tea? Do you want your noise cancelling earphones, baby?” Your eyes are tearing again at his words and Joel’s face crumples at your glistening cheeks.

“It’s okay, honey,” he cooes, hand rubbing the mattress, pretending it’s your back.

“I feel bad,” you cry.

“No, no, no, sweetheart,” Joel shushes you, knowing all too well where this is leading and disallowing you to talk badly about yourself.

“But Sarah, she…she was trying to tell me about something and I couldn’t even concentrate on what she was saying-“

“Baby, you know Sarah understands,” Joel leans in closer, his breath on your face as he reassures you of your racing thoughts.

“She told me as soon as I came in that she thought you were having an episode. She knows, sweetheart.”

Your eyes widen, your crying stopping momentarily.

“Really?” You ask, your throat dry.

Joel nods, a small smile on his lips, “And she gets it, baby. She doesn’t judge. We’ve talked about it before. Just to make sure she always knew you might have a moment every now and again so if you need space, it doesn’t have anything to do with our relationship or the one you have with her. She loves you, honey and she knows you love her. Okay?”

You nod and Joel’s smile grows, glad to have consoled you.

“Now,” he starts again, “I’ll go get you what you need and you stay right here. I’ll be right back.”

You nod again, “thank you, Joel.”

Joel has to stifle his chuckle only a little, “how many times do I have to tell you? You don’t need to thank me, sweetheart. I’m your partner. It’s important that I take care of you. You do it for us plenty.”

You smile a little and it makes Joel swoon, happy to finally see your lips turn up, your dimples gracing the edges.

True to his word, he disappears but not before scoping the wardrobe and retrieving your earphones. You put them in and try to close your eyes and relax when he leaves. Trying to will your body to loosen up, your muscles to relax rather than freeze rigidly with every sensation. The mattress is cool, your long shirt light and airy and Joel left a cold glass of water with a straw on the bedside for when your mouth was feeling too dry.

He was one in a million and you smiled knowing you won the lottery when he found you that day in the wardrobe and then you became the richest person on the planet when you met Sarah and the connection you had to both of them grew stronger until he eventually asked you to move in.

Five years later and here you were. A family.

The best family you could’ve asked for.

“Hey baby,” you lift your head to see Joel wandering in, taking out one of your buds as he places a shaker bottle he normally uses for his protein shakes on the bedside full of a pink smoothie, joined by a cup of camomile and a bowl of your favourite soup.

“Thank you, baby,” you smile and Joel turns his head giving you a wink, seeing you that you seem to be gradually returning back to your normal self.

And luckily you are feeling a little more comfy now.

The sounds of the evening chores going on downstairs are becoming less aggravating.

You don’t feel like you need to tear your skin off your body. In fact you’re almost longing for a bath, feeling a little sweaty from being worked up so bad earlier.

“Joel?” You sit up, Joel turning to see the way your oversized shirt rides up over your underwear, his face flushing at the sight.

“You need something, baby?” He’s got that flirty smile on his face, the one that tells you he sees something he likes but you’re still not completely past your overwhelming senses.

If anything, you’re now bothered by the smell of sweat emitting from your body.

“You know how you love me so much?” You start and Joel’s eyes crease, his smile growing into a full grin.

He hums in response, awaiting your command.

“Pretty please could you run me a bath? You always make it feel so good.”

Joel kneels at the bottom of the bed, his flirty smirk returning at your words, his hands splaying out over the mattress, smoothing over it as you inch a bit closer to him.

“Is that right, sweetheart? You want a nice warm bath with all your rose petals and bubble bath? Is that what you need, baby?”

You nod with a pout, overplaying it a bit, watching his tongue poke into his cheek amused by your behaviour.

“If that’s what you need, I can do that for you but first I need you to eat some of your soup and drink some of your smoothie. Can you do that for me?”

You nod with a dimpled smile and as much as he longs to reach out and graze your knee with his fingertips, he reframes from doing so, continuing to respect your boundaries while you might still be working through your hypersensitivity.

True to his word, Joel ran the bathtub at just the right temperature, sprinkling rose scented petals and dropping a floral scented bath bomb into it. He’d even gone as far as to light some candles, set a fresh cup of tea on the side and stolen some chocolates from the last Halloween run you’d had with Sarah.

If you thought your lover couldn’t get any sweeter, he’d helped you out of your clothes and respectfully kept his hands away from you until you prompted him with a small smile to offer his hand and help you climb into the tub.

Joel left you to check on Sarah while you laid back, your senses mellowing out and coming back down from the heightened agitation you were experiencing earlier. Now finally you felt like a weight had been lifted. Your skin felt less itchy.

“So pretty…”

Your cheeks redden when Joel walks into the misty bathroom, stopping in his tracks at the doorframe and overlooking your soft skin peppered with fluffy soap.

“Have you washed your hair, honey?”

You shake your head, your smile slipping momentarily.

You would have done it if the room wasn’t a little cold. You were doing what you could to stay buried under the hot water, still feeling slightly sensitive to the temperature of the room. The aspect of lifting your bare wet arms out of the water to massage your scalp made you feel uneasy. You weren’t completely out of this episode yet and even if you were, the twinkle in Joel’s eyes told you he’d still offer up his services.

You watch him with bated breath as he kneels beside the tub, pushing up the sleeves of his favourite green plaid shirt, your eyes following the hardened muscles of his forearms up to his biceps peeking out under the flannel.

Though Joel may have a soft tummy, his arms were a statement to his hard work running a construction company with his brother, Tommy.

You rather adored your man being soft and a little hard around the edges.

“Want me to help you, sweetheart?” His voice captures you again, your eyes on his soft brown orbs.

You nod wordlessly, suddenly longing for his large hands and gentle fingers to work their way through your locks and massage your scalp deliciously.

You anticipate Joel’s touch anxiously when he leans over and reaches for your cherry scented shampoo, squeezing the red shiny liquid over his thick hands and lathering it together.

He offers you a smile, his head tilting in request to proceed in touching you. You nod and he moves behind you, his fingers sinking up into your hair from the back. You fight to suppress a shiver tickling up your spine when Joel works the product through your scalp, massaging and coating the ends of your hair with soft strokes.

It constantly amazed you how Joel’s strong hands that spent most the day throwing around heavy parts, growing calloused from checking wooden palettes during the day, could become so delicate and gentle when touching you.

You smiled to yourself, dropping your chin to your wet chest with a satisfied sigh.

Joel made sure not to massage too hard or tug harshly at your hair. He didn’t want to make you retreat back into your shell by triggering your hypersensitivity again.

He could see just from how your shoulders were gradually easing back down to normal level below your chin that your overstimulation was dissipating as the time passed.

He bites his inner gum when he hears a slight moan leave your lips at his movements.

“That feel okay?”

You hum in response, a short nod of your head.

“Good,” Joel whispers, even daring to lean forward, your damp soapy strands sticking to his cheek when he presses a slow soft kiss to your bare shoulder.

“I love you.”

Your words caress the relaxed atmosphere.

Joel smiles.

Joel wanting nothing more than to strip back and join you, holding you against his chest under the warmth of the water but he continues to hold back.

Instead he greets your quiet intimacy with a whisper.

“I love you too, baby.”

You open your eyes to a light breeze, birds singing and a smoky cup of coffee on your bedside in your favourite mug.

You lay on your side for a good few minutes, blinking away sleep, your hands cradled under your cheek and buried against the pillow.

You don’t remember falling asleep but when you feel a shuffle behind you, large warm hands slipping under your nightshirt and tugging you against his bare body, the memories start flooding back.

You were so relaxed in the bathtub that it made you sleepy. So sleepy in fact that Joel leaned over the tub after emptying it, bundled you up in a fluffy towel and lifted you into his arms.

Your cheeks warm when you vaguely remember the slight groan of protest on Joel’s lips as his aching back retaliated but with you squashed nicely against his chest, Joel couldn’t complain.

He laid you down in your bed carefully and dried you as gently as he could before tucking you in.

You remember being alone in your half-asleep state that you heard the familiar murmur of father-daughter voices, the click of the door and padded footsteps before the mattress dipped.

A kiss pressed against your forehead and all went dark.

Now the world was brighter than ever before, the sounds of the birds and cars passing by doing nothing to disturb your hearing. Your bones no longer stiffening at the natural sounds of life.

More importantly, the sensation of your lovers thumbs brushing your naked hips was very much welcomed. So much so you groaned happily, rolling over to face those perfect brown eyes and plush lips quirked up into a tired smile.

“Morning, sweetheart.”

You lean forward, meeting Joel half way and kissing him softly. You let your hands slip under his arms, cuddling into him while shuffling just below his chin.

Joel presses a lingering kiss against your head.

Distantly, you can hear Sarah’s record player and you sigh happily as the music carries through your home.

All I ever wanted…

All I ever needed is here…

In my arms…

You squeeze Joel tighter.

[rinnstars]

4 walls!

in which itoshi rin builds a wall between him and the world and youre the only one with the key

itoshi rin x reader: fluff, drabble + not proofread + likes and reblogs are appreciated

to the world, itoshi rin is somehow cold, emotionless, unaffected - the way his face is fixed in the dead-panned face as though carved into it by a sculpture, the way he doesnt bother responding or dignifying jabs or comments as he walks past the desks, the way his eyes linger on only his goals over the people that surrounds him. to his first football club, he is nothing short of a disappointment, always compared to his genius of a brotehr, nothing short of dull, always hiding his report cards whenever exam season arrives, nothing short of cold, his mouth barely spoke a word during his stay there. to his classmates, he is just an average joe - just another classmate not focused in class, too busy focusing on his dream world wrapped in the football magazines he has stacked underneath his table, just another guy, albeit way more quiet and responsive than most students, just another mediocre and average student, with grades that just passed the mark to move on to the next and with abysmal club attendance.

yet, to him, he knows he is the opposite of all the things they say - he knows he’s rather soft hearted, a cry-baby at the slightest tone change, he’s rather insecure, each comparison to his brother only digs the knife slotted against his heart deeper into the already gory mess of an organ it has become over the years, he’s rather passionate, driving him to continue persevering against all odds, against his own belief and reality, against his own blood. but he rather it stays that way - maybe its better to not let them see the real him, to not let them too be disappointed at the real reflection that stares back at him in the dirty mirror, to not hurt himself more by giving them the full him.

and so he builds a wall. he builds a wall made of bricks and stones, block by block until he is trapped in his own making, until he no longer can get hurt or even see the outside world outside of the house he has essentially trapped himself in, until he wont get hurt anymore - not by his club members, not by his classmates, not by his brother. and he tries to convince himself, he likes it better this way - without others, there wont be another sae - he wont have to witness his own heart ripped out and thrown on the grassy patch of field another time, he wont have to go through nights of sobbing uncontrollably that leaves his pillow gross and wet by the time morning rolls around, he wont have to feel as though he lost a loved one to death as he occasionally open his drawer that features a photobook of him and his brother still grinning without a care in the world without knowing what would have happened next with dried tears stains that dirty those photographs.

and yet, its with you, rin thinks his walls are entirely down. to him, youre the key to the complicated lock in his heart that he without a doubt passes to you. you’ve always been beside him, even when his eyes were fixated on sae that has always been in front of him - beside him in class where you two slacked at the back of class playing your phone and him reading soccer magazine underneath the table as you two occasionally bicker whilst laughing, beside him on his bed right on top of the messy blankets he knows you dont mind with his arms around you like its second nature to him, beside him on that bus whether to and fro school or even to his training facility that takes practically hours to get to as you drool on his uniform that he doesn’t have the heart to let you know even after all these years.

you’re the bright star and sun that melts away his icy cold castles and mountains of walls as though they were nothing, rin thinks. the way you beam at him whenever you see him right at the bus stop, waving your hands excitedly as your footsteps springs towards him and he feels like he’s in those cliche romance mangas you talk about, almost seeing those cherry blossom trees and hearing that love song that repeats in his head whenever youre oh so close to him. the way you listen to him, nodding along even though half of what he’s saying are nonsense word jumbles practically sews and patches his broken heart back, warming his once ice cold atmosphere. the way you do things — passing him those sugary sweet candies that tastes just like you, letting him copy off your homework while you both laugh quietly at the back of class makes him wish this could last forever, the way your hands so gently combs through his emerald hair makes him melt into a lovesick puddle right in your hands as he looks at your eyes that he swears the whole galaxy is inside it.

and maybe youre like those hero’s and magicians he’s watched in those cartoons when he was a little kid, you must be. so enchanting: how you manage to coax him out of his room time and time again to go to wherever you want, hell rin thinks he would even go to the very end of the world if you simply asked. youre like the fire element to his ice element in those stupid games, the sun and the moon from those posts he reads about your favourite love mangas to catch up to you, the golden retriever and the black cat trope he hears you rave about, the “lalala” and “okokok” tiktok trend and everything under the sun. if youre not a secret extraterrestrial creature that he bets you are, the equivalent to his new found destroyer ego to make a team together to destroy the earth or something like that he jokes, maybe just maybe you two were destined by fate.

in another life, you would be the witch to find an abandoned familiar he thinks - warming and melting his icy exterior with both your warmth you exude and too the hot soup you always cook for him whenever he’s running a cold. in another life, you would have been the hero to have helped him out of whatever villainous organisation he finds himself trapped in in his rage and fear with your warmth and that bright cheshire grin of yours anytime. in another life, you would have been the bright and well-liked royal of the castle who finds him, a lonesome and attempting knight and make him yours he thinks. he’s sure of it — where yours and his constellations are always beside each other, where your palm fits perfectly with his like two puzzle pieces merged together, where yours and his heart and ribs and guts are shared together.

so for now, rin will sit here right beside you, enjoying the warmth you exude as he places his head right on your shoulder, smiling at your yelp at surprise and attempts to push him off back to his side of the bed: youre the only one he would let in to see the raw him, and he hopes he’s the same to you too, the one you can truly always shine the brightest with.

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Most Trusted

|| Ambessa Medarda x fem!reader

|| Warnings; brief swearing, brief mentions of killing but nobody dies, reader & Ambessa naked, hints at intimacy if you read between the lines, reader being absolutely smitten for Ambessa, little dialogue

|| Summary; with a slow morning, reader encourages Ambessa to stay in bed with her. Allowing her more time to admire her body. Scars and all.

Requests closed!

Started; December 3rd

Finished; December 3rd

HurtCember2024; Day 4, Scars

Author Note; dropping this one a little early! I couldn't wait that extra sixteen minutes. It's midnight somewhere, right? I'm really happy with how this one turned out 🫶

~~~

The bed was warm and comfortable as you snuggled up to Ambessa. Enjoying the small moment of peace the two of you shared. With Ambessa, these moments came rare and few. Comparable to scraps off a table. So, you cherished whatever ones appeared. Living in the moment to its absolute fullest. Your finger tips trailed along Ambessa's scars, having started on the ones on her face. Now trailing those on her shoulder. You couldn't help but admire them. The scars held memories and Ambessa often told you the stories of how she got them. She loved retelling her battles to you. Her many victories, how proud she made her ancestors. You'd hang on to every word. Taking the stories in full. You couldn't believe that Ambessa was your lover. She was strong, powerful, the embodiment of leadership and control. Whenever you heard how much she had achieved, it made you feel like you could be doing more yourself. Ambessa motivated you. She was your inspiration.

Her gaze fell to you, feeling your fingers against her skin. Trailing the old scars with nothing but admiration and love in your eyes. You often looked at her like she placed the stars in the sky for you. She would have, too. If they weren't already there. Ambessa found it adorable how simply you were entertained by her. You seemed to love everything she did. She could be killing someone and you would honestly probably look at her the same. The thought alone amused her. You really did love her and she really did have you wrapped around her finger. She cared for you. Protected you. You were hers just as she was yours.

"Darling... are you simply going to look at me all day?" Ambessa asked, amusement in her tone. Her hand wrapped around your waist. Resting to your ass. Bringing you in closer to her. Your eyes met hers, taking your gaze off her scars. Your head rested to her shoulder and your hand cupped her cheek. Feeling how she leaned into your touch. For a woman with the strength that Ambessa had, it was cute. Watching her soften up for you. Even if it was simply to humour you.

"Couldn't I?" You replied. You often did find yourself staring at her all day, without boredom. It wasn't often the two of you weren't at each other's side. You were her most trusted, after all. Ambessa could see clearly how deep your loyalty for her ran. Like you were sculpted just for her and her alone. She knew you would never betray. It was one of Ambessa's favourite qualities about you; the thing that caught her attention to begin with.

A small chuckle left Ambessa at your response. Couldn't you? She supposed you could. Though, she knew sooner or later the two of you would have to get to work. Maybe explore the local cuisine... she sighed, propping her elbow to the pillow. Fingers resting to the side of her head. Her eyes locking with your own," we have quite the busy day ahead of us. Though.. for you, perhaps we could stay in bed just a little longer. If only to humour you."

Your eyes lit up and you tried getting even closer to her. Sometimes you found yourself wishing the two of you could just merge. Being up against her wasn't enough. Your hand continued its journey along her scars. Only parting way for a moment to feel her lower abs. You could feel Ambessa watching your every movement, like she was calculating what you would do before you did it. You didn't mind. You loved when the tables were flipped and she would watch you instead. It made your whole body feel warm. In ways beyond just temperature. Ambessa allowed you to continue for a moment longer, before she reluctantly pulled herself away from you. Getting out of bed to begin her day. You couldn't help but pout just a bit as the warmth left.

Ambessa got dressed in front of you. Hardly caring if you watched, besides. It wasn't nothing you hadn't already seen from her. She was in no rush to get ready, even if she should have been. Enjoying the little show she was putting on for you. Once she was clothed, Ambessa looked to you. A subtle smirk dancing on her lips," if you keep your mouth open like that you'll swallow a fly," she teased.

You blinked, haven't even realizing that your mouth had opened slightly. You quickly closed it and scrambled out of bed. A blush dusting your cheeks. Looking through your drawers, you pulled out your clothes for the day. Ambessa would lean herself over your shoulder. Suggesting what she would like to see you in. You hardly minded. You loved dressing for her.

Once dressed, Ambessa gave you a nod of approval. You joined her at her side and she placed a kiss to your cheek. Her hand resting to your shoulder with a firm hold before the two of you left the room. Beginning your day.

[dollyichi]

THE FIRST CONFESSION . . . itoshi rin x f ! reader / fluff / not proofread

getting rin to finally admit he liked you was a bit of a rollercoaster. the biggest hurdle from you and him actually dating was the both of you being so dense.

you get teased quite a lot and and he’d scowl immediately (never in front of you though!) while you always laughed it off. but when you do get teased when you’re together you experimentally try to entertain it, while he tries to change the topic, or ignore it completely. but he couldn’t bring himself to say it’s “not true.” it’s more like a, “don’t just be saying that.” but he’s actually getting pretty shy. (understatement)

you almost thought he wasn’t actually interested, feeling uncomfortable that your presence made him feel uncomfortable, though you were already satisfied just being there as a friend.

but to rin it was very untrue because he actually needed to see you to be in a better mood. even just a photo of you from your socials is fine! so seeing you distance yourself from him made him really sad.

he tries really hard to put on this facade of acting cool, or acting unbothered but his hearts always beating so fast when you’re so close to him it’s unbearable! though sometimes you felt brave enough to flirt a little bit, and he always bites back just a bit. the both of you were oblivious that you were flirting—so it was definitely not effective.

your friends think it’s annoying, his teammates especially thinks it’s stupid. the way you’re both so into each other and neither of you are realizing that. a silent game of who denies the best wins.

sometimes, things needed a trigger to actually get it to move, and this was one of those things. it was all secretly planned, isagi invites you out and you immediately say yes since you two were close. and there goes bachira who’s helping isagi to play cupid. bringing him to that cafe (with a lot of pestering that rin loses his patience and gives in).

it was all calculated, you and isagi were seated just outside and he makes sure he puts on a bit of a show. making you laugh, a little bit of skin ship here and there. he knows you’re too in love with rin to actually be swayed or think of his actions differently but there goes a fuming itoshi rin who sees you. it’s as if the cogs in his brain operated too fast that he’s complimenting how you looked today, how pretty your smile was but then goes back to the fact that you were laughing at isagi.

“what’s so fucking funny?” was what bachira heard and in seconds rin’s already gone from his side.

his own body moved just from his anger alone, giving isagi a mean glare before grabbing you by the wrist and pulls you away from him.

the two boys left behind high fives while they watch you getting dragged by him.

“where are you taking me! i didn’t even say goodbye to isa-“ he stops when you’re a bit further from them. letting you go and turning to you with a really big scowl.

“sorry for ruining your little date with that bastard.” you flinch, “that wasn’t a date, we were just hanging out.” you say, confused. why would he care if it was a date or not, why was he even there?

rin was at a lost for words, he didn’t know how to express it properly—jealousy did get the best of him. “it should’ve been with me.” he says softly. but you couldn’t understand, moving closer to him.

in a fit of jealousy he pulled you away, coming to his senses, you were the one backing him up against the wall making you repeat something he voiced out loud.

in terms of confidence though, you always had the upper hand. “speak louder.” and he felt compelled, because your voice was so stern that it hit him in his core.

“i said it should’ve been with me!” he sighs heavily, placing his palm on his head. “why’d you have to choose that dumbass? what does he have, huh?” and it’s almost breaking his ego that the girl he loved the most ‘gave her heart away’ to the one he considers his rival. it’s just too unfair.

you were too shocked when you heard him, loud and clear even. it took you a bit to respond but all that got out of you were a fit of giggles.

and you think to yourself, “we’re both fucking stupid huh?”

“rin,” you say, grabbing his hand away from his face so he’s looking at you. “what do you feel about me?”

his mouth quivers, but he couldn’t look away from you. you felt his hand shake on yours. a few stutters here and there trying to finally say it until, “i love you.” and he jumps realizing what he just said. he wanted to say ‘like’ not to overwhelm you but instead, he ended becoming way too honest.

and you’re giggling again, already on your tiptoes to leave a kiss on his lips.

and then he finally realized how stupid he was. well, now he’s even more embarrassed.

do not copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost my works

note : i think it’s so cute that you crush on each other like teenagers (more-so him) ended up rambling so hard here??? i really am in love with him or something… idk… got inspired by an ask i got and @prettyboykatsuki talking about how bllk boys handle their crushes u woke smth inside me ari u are so good

[sundew199]

Touch Starved

tags: zoro x reader, so p/n's used, smut, fluff, intimate

touch starved zoro who doesn't like to admit he's touch starved even when it comes to you. He holds himself too highly to admit that he needs to feel your lips pressing soft kisses down his bare chest as you make your way down. Or your hands fluttering over his scar or his ribs, the way his breath catches in his throat when your eyes flit up to meet him. How you'll stop once your hands smooth over his rigid corded thighs, looking at him like you need permission.

Zoro won't admit it vocally, but he'll find other ways. Simplest way being to whisper in your ear to meet in his room for a second, not giving any details, but knowing you knew what he meant.

You find it cute how bashful he can get with something like this, missing your touch and needing to feel your skin on his for something akin to comfort.

When you do make it to his room, he's sitting on the edge of the bed shirtless and staring at his own intertwined hands, perking up at the soft close of the door and your stride closer to him. A little smile peaks onto his face when you stand in front of him, moving his hands out of the way to stand between his legs, holding the sides of his face like a glass ornament.

"What do you need?" Asking even though you knew.

"Just you." He'll say back, hushed and whispered, a rosy hue crossing his cheeks for a fleeting second.

You'll end up on top of him, legs on either side of his hips as your lips carefully dance together, gentle smacking mingling with the waves hitting the side of the Sunny. Rough scarred palms will trace along your spine after taking off your shirt, mapping their way across the delicate skin that was yours.

Zoro will be soaring on the inside. what he'd been craving being sated with the cascading lips along his jaw and neck, the gentle sucks that might bruise and bloom on his skin afterwords, but he didn't care, they were from you.

Every touch is calculated, routine in the way your index finger presses down at the top of his scar on his chest and gliding down to just above the hip. He'll shutter to the touch, like it were the first time to ever trace his scar like that.

Sensitive and needy would be traits more commonly found in a lovesick man, like the cook, but they presented in Zoro when he was alone with you. The quiet "pleases" and whatever endearing pet name he had for you he chose to use. Not like you would deny him, not when he turns so gentle and hushed at your motions.

When you sink down on top of him after littering his entire body in love bites and kisses, Zoro will yank you down until you're pressed to his chest, face to face how he likes it. Together you can watch the pleasure bloom on each other's faces with each thrust or bounce, swallow each other's moans and whines like it were unheard of to make such a sound.

Zoro will be so overwhelmed with your touch, your warmth, that he can't find it in himself to hold back. He'll firmly grip you at the hips while you're still on top of him, thrusting up into you quickly, panting into your mouth as your jaw turns slack, lips dragging against his as you contort in pleasure.

Whispering praises in the space between you, how good it feels, how much he loves you, and how he'll always need you. You'll laugh softly, threading your fingers in the back of his hair and moaning into the next kiss.

This turns Zoro more desperate, like he weren't already the most desperate man on the planet for you, but he does. Licking into your mouth and closing the last bit of distance between your bodies, smacking his thighs against yours with each unrelenting thrust until his balls tighten in warning.

He'll make sure you're flush to his hips when he finally cums, moaning more vocally into the sloppy kisses being exchanged. He won't pull you off for a moment after the fact, greedy for the warmth of you.

Maybe Zoro would always be touch starved, no matter how many times he got to have you, got to feel you and got to hold you. He'd never have enough, not in a thousand lifetimes.

[wisecura]

Sheets

megumi fushiguro x fem-reader

p.1

p.7  ( ⸝⸝꩜ ᯅ ꩜⸝⸝;) p.9????

p.8

AN: small toji x you in this one. isn't smutty just small fluffy. some comfort. well pick up with our normal story soon. I was gonna write in the next part but I needed to make this small enough to chew. I keep debating whether I want this to end quickly, or get drawn out. leaning towards drawn out just for my peace of mind but...I've got other shit I wanna write too. And I'm not entirely sure if it'll be worth it haha.

warnings: this story may cover sensitive and uncomfortable topics. please read at your own risk, violence, lashings, blood, mental breakdowns, yandere, obsessive behavior, possessiveness, mommy kinks, mommy issues, arranged marriages, forced marriages, angst, eventual smut, clan politics, age gap (5 years from meg, and a little over 10 with toji), toji aint the best dad, mentions of child abuse, slowww build.

Short summary: Your arranged marriage to Toji Fushiguro had been sudden and unexpected, but now you found yourself living under his roof alongside your moody stepson. Your only directive from your clan head before moving in was clear: keep a close eye on Toji, the notorious Sorcerer Killer, and his son, a potential sorcerer prodigy.

Big Dick Energy

The house was quieter than you’d expected, the kind of silence that wrapped itself around you and refused to let go.

You busied yourself with routines—cooking meals, tidying up, bingeing your favorite TV shows—but none of it could fill the hollow ache that lingered. Every task felt aimless, every distraction fleeting.

Toji dropped by occasionally, his teasing remarks and sharp smirks offering brief diversions, but even he couldn’t fill the void that seemed to stretch through every corner of the house.

Too often, your gaze would wander to Megumi’s closed door, only to be met with the same cold, unyielding stillness. You hadn’t expected to miss his presence this much, not after the way he’d ignored you in those last three months.

Yet now, with him gone, his absence cut deeper than you cared to admit.

His words lingered in your mind, a confession boarding on something less than platonic. You could only hope it wouldn’t be so painfully awkward when he returned next summer.

But more than that, a creeping fear had begun to take root.

He was likely throwing himself into missions now, facing dangers you didn’t even want to imagine. The thought of him out there, the prospect of death always a step away, gnawed at you. You tried desperately not to let it get to you.

So you cleaned.

You ate.

You slept.

And then you did it all again the next day.

And the next.

And the next...

Until the day came when you couldn’t put it off any longer. You had to visit your former clan house.

The walk through the grand gates and pristine courtyards felt suffocating, each step heavy with memories you’d tried desperately to leave behind. You were led, wordlessly, to one of the estate’s least popular tea rooms, the chill in the air colder than you remembered. Megumi's birthday would be coming up again, soon.

In the tea room, waiting was the clan head in all his big dicked glory, draped in his full traditional garb. The look was doing little to soften the venom in his eyes. Two servants lingered just outside the room, their presence silent but always watching. Listening.

The man across from you wasn’t terrifying because of his cursed energy—it wasn’t the strongest.

What made him so off-putting were the memories you had attached with him, the sheer weight of the past pressing down on your chest. His disdain for you was palpable, radiating off him like heat as he launched into his usual tirade.

“Incompetent,” he spat, his voice cold and very much arrogant, each word sharper than the last. “The information you've been bringing is worthless. A disgrace. Is that the best you can do? I thought that maybe, even someone like you would have some shred of capability.”

The gardens outside the shoji doors were undeniably beautiful—a cruel contrast to the scene inside. Birds chirped softly, butterflies flitted through the air, the scent of flowers wafting in—CRACK.

A sharp, stinging slap across your cheek snapped you out of your thoughts. Your head whipped to the side from the force, and pain bloomed across your skin like fire.

You froze for a moment, your hand instinctively rising to your cheek as you bit back the sting of humiliation. You vaguely remember how he always used to do shit like this. The taste of iron lingered on your tongue, but you didn’t dare make a sound.

Schooling your expression quickly, you forced yourself to meet his piercing gaze, his eyes as cold and unyielding as ever. This son of a—

“Don’t get distracted now,” he hissed, his tone venomous, his hand still hovering near you as though daring you to flinch. Always ready for a second one. “Is that really all you’ve got? You really are a useless girl. Why we ever kept you in the clan, it'll never know. ”

He hadn't even needed to slap you again. Each word landed like another blow, slicing through the fragile composure you clung to. He leaned forward slightly, his shadow looming over you, his anger simmering just below the surface.

“Do I need to remind you what happens when you fail this family?” his voice dropping into a quieter, almost mocking calm that sent a chill down your spine. His tone was unmistakable. You always were able to tell when he was about to do something drastic.

The gardens outside remained serene, as though mocking your situation. You swallowed hard, the bitterness in your throat impossible to ignore, and shook your head. No. You don't need a reminder. You remember well.

The man across the table hadn’t been happy, and you knew without a doubt that punishment was inevitable. Being a Fushiguro now meant nothing here. You still very much belonged to this family.

His piercing, cold eyes drilled into you, his disdain a tangible weight pressing in on you. He looked ready to throttle you. Your head lowered down, as you fix your gaze on a spot on the table. And just as you’d been taught, you thought of things that might be useful for him. The sting of his slap lingered on your cheek, the imprint of his hand no doubt burning into your skin.

You already knew this visit would be a bad one.

“His son went off to school,” you started, your voice steady despite the tremble building. “He’s now enrolled at Jujutsu Tech—”

“Yes, we already know that,” he interrupted coldly, waving his hand dismissively. “No thanks to you. And what of Toji Fushiguro? Have you seen any...suspicious activity recently?”

You didn’t hesitate, desperate to give him what he wanted, even if it was crumbs. “He’s been out of the house for four days this week.”

“That the best you can do?” His eyes narrowed as he stared you down. Obviously, to him, this was no where near enough.

He stood slowly, his movements deliberate, trailing around the table, his presence loomed heavier with every step until he was behind you. Your eyes don't dare follow him. Your breath hitched as you felt his hand settle on the back of your neck, the weight of it cold and commanding.

You stiffened, your body slightly trembling under his grip as he leaned closer, his breath hot against your ear. “Useless,” he spat, his fingers tightening just slightly. “How many times do I have to remind you what happens when you waste my time?”

The walls seemed to close in, the silence suffocating as the air around you grew heavier. You clenched your fists in your lap, willing yourself not to react. Not to cry. Not to give him the satisfaction.

The grip on your neck tightened painfully, and before you could brace yourself, he yanked you upright with a brutal force that left you stumbling.

Your feet, barely catching your balance as he dragged you toward the courtyard. His actions—ruthless, uncaring, as though you were nothing more than a disobedient dog being hauled to its kennel.

No one dared to intervene. They never had before. The well-kept greenery, the polished stone pathways, the fragrant blossoms swaying in the breeze. Serene, if it weren't for the hand clutched around your throat.

"Five lashes," he barked to the nearby servants, his voice sharp and devoid of hesitation. They hesitated only for a fraction of a second before scrambling into motion, their eyes fixed on the ground, avoiding yours. Just how you were taught.

Your stomach twisted violently. Five.

It wasn’t the worst you’d endured, but it was more than enough to leave a lasting mark. Harsher than usual, and you didn’t have to wonder why. Your reports had been sparse, vague, deliberately lacking the substance they demanded. A small, quiet rebellion on your part. And this was the price.

You barely had time to brace yourself before you were hauled forward and thrown to the pristine stone courtyard. The sharp scent of iron reached your nose, and it was only then that you realized your palms were scraped raw, streaks of crimson painting the stone beneath you.

Up close, the stone wasn’t as flawless as you thought—tiny imperfections, cracks, and now smears of your blood, stark and vivid against the pale surface. 

The bile in your throat was hard to swallow. Your body knew what was coming, as it trembled. You tried to steady yourself, tried to push back the rising tide of panic.

They’d brought a wooden stick, one you knew all too well—thin, long, and biting.

Another servant stepped forward, pulling at the back of your kimono with practiced ease, baring your skin to the biting air. How many times have they ran through this same routine?

You shivered violently, clutching the front of your garment in a futile attempt to preserve some shred of modesty.

"You should know better than to bring me shit like that." he spat, his voice heavy with disdain. His measured footsteps echoed behind you, circling like a predator toying with its prey. "Sparse, irrelevant, unusable. Is this the standard you think is acceptable? Do you enjoy putting this family to shame?"

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. You knew what was coming. And words would only make it worse. He wasn’t looking for excuses. Silence was safer. Silence was survival.

His pacing stopped abruptly, his shadow looming behind you. "You’ve grown rebellious," he continued. "Perhaps your time away from the clan house has done more harm than good."

Your heart raced, dread pooling in your stomach. You pleaded silently, begging him not to order the dissolution of your marriage. The only positive outcome from this would be his decision to let you stay.

"It’s a shame, really," he mused, almost lazily, "We need to keep you there for now. But let this serve as a warning."

The first lash came without warning, the whip cutting through the air with a sharp crack before it struck your back.

The pain was blinding, immediate, forcing a gasp from your lips despite your best efforts to stay silent. The second followed quickly, and your body jerked against the force, the rough stone scraping your knees further.

By the third, your breathing was shallow, labored, your skin burning with a fire that seeped into your bones. You could feel the blood pooling beneath your clothes, soaking into the fabric and staining the once-pristine courtyard. If there had been more lashes, perhaps the pain would have numbed, but there was no such mercy.

The world around you felt distant, your focus narrowing to the searing pain and the sound of his voice. He was talking but you didn't catch all of it. Each strike felt personal, a reminder of your place, your failure, your rebellion. 

You bit down hard, swallowing the sound threatening to escape as the fourth lash tore across your back, and your vision blurred as you bit down hard on your lip to stifle a cry. The metallic taste of blood filled your mouth, grounding you in the moment as the final strike landed with brutal precision.

“You should be grateful I’m not ordering more,” he said, his voice deceivingly calm. “Consider this mercy.”

Mercy. The word felt hollow, meaningless, as you pressed your forehead against the cool stone, your breaths shallow and labored. This wasn’t mercy. This was power trip. A reminder of the leash around your neck that he had no intention of loosening.

When it was over, the courtyard fell silent, save for your ragged breathing. You remained on the ground, trembling, trying to summon the strength to move past the pain and the humiliation that burned hotter than the lashes on your back.

"Clean her up," he said dismissively, his voice devoid of any human emotion. Without so much as a glance in your direction, he turned and strode away, his fancy pants robes swishing behind him with an air of finality.

To him, you were nothing more than an inconvenience—a speck of dirt sullying the pristine courtyard.

You stayed motionless, your breathing labored, waiting for the echo of his footsteps to fade and for his looming shadow to vanish from sight.

The gardens outside remained serene. Cicadas buzzing, birds chirping cheerfully, the flowers swayed in the gentle cooler breeze, and the sweet, heady scent of blooms filled the air. Damn, September was your favorite time of year.

But the blood staining the immaculate stones beneath you was a fucking wake up call—reminding you of just what it cost to defy him, even in the smallest of ways.

Thankfully, your clan visits were few and far between. The trip home that day had been nothing short of brutal. Your clan head’s disregard for how you might explain the aftermath to your husband lingered in your mind like a bitter aftertaste.

Toji hadn’t been surprised when you walked through the door, battered and silent. He took one look at you and seemed to understand everything without a word. Never pressing for details. Without hesitation, he led you to the bathroom, grabbing the first aid kit on his way. The usual Toji—sharp-tongued and teasing—was nowhere to be found. Instead, he was quiet. Unusually quiet. Unusually helpful.

His hands steady but his expression unreadable. There was no lecture, no pity, just a resigned understanding that somehow made the whole ordeal feel even worse.

Your chest tightened, the weight of everything pressing down until the words broke free in a cracked whisper. "Toji, I can’t do this anymore."

He froze mid-motion, the damp cloth in his hand still hovering near a particularly nasty gash on your back. For a moment, he didn’t move, didn’t speak. The smirk that so often danced on his lips was conspicuously absent, replaced by a hard, distant look as his eyes flicked to meet yours in the mirror.

He watched you for a long moment, his gaze colder than you’d expected, and then let out a small, almost weary sigh. "I know, doll," he said, his voice low and measured. "I know."

Your eyes misted as his words washed over you, the weight of his acknowledgment settling deep in your chest. It wasn’t just the words themselves—it was the way he said them, low and measured, carrying an understanding that made your heart ache even more. You hadn’t realized how much you needed someone to say those words, to acknowledge the heaviness you carried.

His hand moved slowly, almost hesitantly, until his fingers ruffled your hair in a rare, soothing gesture. Toji wasn’t one for overt displays of comfort. This was as close as he got. And yet, the tenderness in that small act unraveled something inside you. The tears that had been threatening finally spilled over, silent but unrelenting.

You lowered your head, letting his hand linger, unsure if you wanted to cry harder or lean into the comfort. He didn’t say anything, didn’t pull away. Toji wasn’t the type to offer empty platitudes or promises he couldn’t keep, but his presence was steady and grounding.

After a moment, he spoke, his voice quieter now, softer. "You don’t have to say anything, doll. Just…take a minute."

You nodded, barely able to find your voice. "I just…" You paused, swallowing the lump in your throat. "I’m tired of fighting. Of pretending it doesn’t hurt."

His hand slid down from your hair to rest on your shoulder, his grip firm but not overbearing. "I know," he said again, his tone carrying a strange mixture of understanding and regret. "You’ve been through more than most. But you don’t have to keep doing it alone. Youve got me here. And Megumi." A hollow promise, but still...

"Megumi hates me right now, Toji. He's been avoiding me for weeks. And youll come to hate me too."

His hand stayed firm on your shoulder, a steadying weight as his eyes flickered with something unspoken—frustration, understanding, maybe even guilt.

"Megumi doesn’t hate you," he said after a moment, his voice low and deliberate, as though he were willing you to believe it. "He’s a kid, doll. He’s got a lot going on in that head of his, more than he lets on. But hate? Nah. That’s not it."

You shook your head, the words spilling out before you could stop them. "He’s been avoiding me for weeks, Toji. Barely looks at me, barely talks to me. And the way he left—" Your voice cracked, and you swallowed hard. Your insecurity getting the best of you. "It’s like he couldn’t get away fast enough. I—I don’t know what I did wrong. I don’t even know where we stand anymore."

Toji let out a slow breath, his hand dropping away as he leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms. His dark eyes held yours, unflinching. "Megumi’s not avoiding you because he hates you," he said, his tone sharper now, cutting through the self-doubt you’d been drowning in. "He’s avoiding you because he’s figuring his own shit out. And yeah, maybe he doesn’t know how to handle it, but that’s on him. Not you."

You turned away, staring at your reflection in the mirror, your own expression a mixture of pain and uncertainty. Pathetic.

"What if I make everything worse, Toji?" you whispered, your voice trembling. "What if he’s right to pull away? What if you’re right to pull away? You’ll come to hate me too—both of you. My clan…they’ll kill me at this rate. I can’t—I don’t want to do this anymore."

The admission hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. You felt the tears welling up again, blurring the already fragile image of yourself in the mirror. Then Toji moved. He didn’t say anything—he just turned you around, his large hands firm but gentle on your shoulders, and pulled you into him. Avoiding your wounds so carefully.

His arms wrapped around you tightly, his warmth a surprising comfort. "I’ve got you," he murmured into your hair, his voice low and steady. "I’ve got you, doll. Let it out."

And you did. The first sob broke free, sharp and uncontrollable, quickly followed by another, and another. You clung to him like he was the only thing keeping you upright, your fingers curling into his shirt as you cried. The tears came in waves, each one more overwhelming than the last, the dam breaking under the weight of everything you’d been holding back.

Time became meaningless as you cried. It could have been minutes or hours. You didn’t know. All you knew was that you couldn’t stop, couldn’t hold back the flood of emotions spilling out of you.

And Toji stayed silent. Holding onto you gently as you cried. His arms stayed carefully positioned, mindful of the deep wounds covering your back.

Thank God you only had to go to the clan house every so often.

p.1

p.9

AN: To be continued soon. Please leave a comment if you enjoyed! and please give a follow, and reblog if you want to stay updated - or follow along on my ao3

I will also be posting updates here:

https://www.tumblr.com/communities/obsessedjjk