#but not always. sometimes he’s used to alleviate tension

[fellhellion]

Utena truly is a show best experienced imo by not stressing about trying to pin down any one piece of symbolism to a singular meaning. In fact, the show actively rebuffs that kind of approach.

[springtyme]

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x afab!reader (18+ mdni!)

word count: 952 - smut under the cut!

Can’t stop thinking about how Kyle would be the perfect boyfriend when you’re on your period…

He will always have a hot water bottle ready for you, and on the rare occasion that he doesn’t, he’ll use his hands, gently pressing his big, warm palms against your abdomen as he tries to soothe your cramps. He’s so attentive, never leaving your side when you’re in pain. 

Whether it’s bringing you a cup of hot tea, a cosy blanket, or just holding your hand, he always knows exactly what you need. He’ll massage your back with gentle strokes, easing the tension and making you feel like the weight of the world is lifted off your shoulders.

He is a champ in the pad aisle, asking all the right questions about what you need. He won’t shy away from the “embarrassing” items and instead, he’ll confidently march through the aisle, picking up what you need, making sure you have everything you need to feel comfortable during your period. He genuinely finds men who are uncomfortable with the subject dumb and childish.

Back at home, he’ll surprise you with a thoughtful care package filled with all your favourite snacks, painkillers, and even a little assortment of pampering items like face masks and bath bombs. He knows that sometimes a little self-care goes a long way in soothing both physical and emotional discomfort.

He’ll give you all the cuddles you need, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. He understands the power of physical touch to provide comfort and reassurance, and he never hesitates to give you all the affection you crave.

These little acts of thoughtfulness remind you just how lucky you are to have him by your side.

He’ll shower you with words of love and encouragement, reminding you that you’re strong and capable, even when your body feels anything but. In his arms, you feel safe, loved, and understood. He is not just a partner, but a true companion who goes above and beyond to make sure you feel loved and supported. With him, every period becomes just a little bit easier to bear.

And even when your period is over, he doesn’t forget about your needs. He continues to show love and care, always prioritising your well-being. He understands that menstruation can sometimes leave you feeling drained and emotionally exhausted, so he makes it a point to be patient and understanding during those post-period days.

//

And if period sex is something you’re into, then he is more than willing to accommodate your desires. He loves any way he can provide relief for you and alleviate your cramps. He sees it as a way to connect with you and provide comfort during a sensitive time. 

He approaches it with care and understanding, always checking in with you to make sure you’re comfortable and enjoying yourself. He is always attentive to your needs, but when you’re on your period he makes even more of an effort to make sure everything is perfect for you. He will make sure to take things slow and gentle (if that’s what you prefer). He’s understanding of any discomfort you may experience and never pushes you beyond your limits. 

He never rushes you or makes you feel guilty for not being in the mood, but when you are, he is more than eager to please you. He takes the time to set the mood, dimming the lights and playing soft, soothing music in the background. He wants you to feel relaxed and comfortable in every aspect.

“You’re doing so good for me, baby,” he will whisper softly in your ear as he kisses your neck, his hands gently exploring your body and finding all the right spots that bring you pleasure. 

He listens to your cues and always encourages you to communicate openly about what feels good and what doesn’t. His main focus is always your pleasure and satisfaction. As he moves inside you, he does so with care and tenderness, never forgetting that your body may need a more gentle touch during this time. He takes his time, savouring every moment, and constantly checks in with you to ensure that you are enjoying yourself. With each thrust, he showers you with praise and encouragement, reminding you of your beauty and strength. 

He knows that the release of endorphins during sex can actually help soothe cramps and elevate your mood, so he is determined to make this experience as pleasurable as possible for you. “You are so incredible, baby,” he will whisper in your ear, his voice filled with genuine love and admiration. 

Afterwards, he’ll hold you close, his arms wrapped tightly around you, as you bask in the afterglow. He strokes your skin lovingly, whispering sweet words of affection and gratitude. He wants you to feel loved and cared for, not just during your period, but always. 

He will be so thorough and gentle with aftercare, making sure you��re comfortable and well taken care of. He understands that your body may need some extra care and attention after sex, especially during your period. He’ll help you get dressed if you need it, and then snuggle up with you, providing a safe and comforting space for you to rest and recover. 

He never makes you feel ashamed or embarrassed about your period, but instead loves and embraces every part of you. He truly is your rock, your comfort, and your partner in every sense of the word. With him, every period becomes a time of deep connection and intimacy, reminding you that you are loved and cherished no matter what. He is a true gem, a partner who never fails to prioritise your pleasure and well-being.

Thank you for reading! ♡

[stardust-kenobi]

The Wrong Ingredient

Severus Snape x Fem!Reader

Summary: As a teaching assistant at Hogwarts, working on creating a new calming draught seemed to be a straightforward task. However, when you accidentally use the wrong ingredient, Professor Snape is more than willing to help alleviate the effects.

Word count: 4k

Warning: smut, fingering, piv, sex pollen (my fav), sort-of teacher/student relationship (reader is 2 years post graduation), mild DUB CON

A/N: Apologies to my followers who are not interested in Harry Potter content. This is my first (and potentially only) fic I am writing for Harry Potter, I just have had an insane infatuation with Severus Snape this week and I just had to write this to get it off my mind lol. Feel free to disregard :)

Read on AO3

The roaring of the snowstorm grew louder by the moment as you tried so desperately to focus on perfecting the potions assignment for the Professor. You were distracted by the storm, entranced by the blanket of white that coated the roof and distant hills. With the halls of Hogwarts empty for the Holiday break, you felt an even deeper appreciation for the warmth and coziness inside the castle.

As a recent graduate of Hogwarts who was now assigned to be a teaching assistant in your second year after graduation, part of your job was helping the professors with their lesson plans. Even if that meant sacrificing part of your holiday break spending the day alone…with Professor Snape. Persistent footsteps approached you, entering the classroom, followed by the sound of a slamming door. You jolted in your seat. 

“Any progress?” Professor Snape asked blankly.

During your studies at Hogwarts, you were always fond of Professor Snape. He was cold and stern, something that usually would have made you weary of a person, but there was something about his demeanor and the way he cared for you that created a soft spot for him in your heart. You had to admit, though, he was hard to talk to at times. He was not a man for many words, so even though you enjoyed him as a professor, there was a bit of unexpected tension being alone with him. You could not deny, though, that you found him to be extremely attractive. 

You sighed and hesitated to look back at him. Snape will be disappointed in your response. 

“Unfortunately, no” you breathed. 

“Pity” He scoffed, but ended with the faintest smirk. He was hard on you the same as he was when he was your professor, but he made some fun of it every now and then.

“Sorry, Professor Snape. I just don’t think these ingredients will work” 

“It’s experimental, Y/N, we won’t know until it is done” He shrugged. 

You were working on a high-intensity calming draught. A harmless potion that many wizards and witches could find great use in, especially during high-stress situations. The ingredients were simple, but they just didn’t make sense to you. 

Lavender, crocodile heart, rose petals, and peppermint. 

You read the list back to yourself several times. You weren’t getting the reaction you’d hoped for inside the simmering pot, and the ingredients weren’t behaving as you’d expected as you followed the procedure you were familiar with.

“Sometimes the best way to test potions is to try them yourself” Snape spoke with a condescending tone as he noticed your hesitation. 

“Are you suggesting I just drink this myself and see if it works?” You reiterated and trailed with a light chuckle.

“If you won’t, I will” He shrugged and smirked back at you from across the room. Professor Snape was professional, of course, but he was right. Sometimes trial and error is the quickest way to test potions. The ingredients were simple, so the chance of them causing any harm was…potentially slim. 

The day was long and you had grown tired of staring into the stirring liquid.

Fine, you thought, what is the worst that could happen?

You poured the purple-hued brew into the glass in front of you. Without thinking too much more about it, you threw back the potion, letting it trickle down your throat. It was potent, minty, and slightly earthy. Not the worst potion you’d tasted…but not the best either.

Your face twisted in uncertainty for the flavor.

Snape held his eyes to the book in front of him as he sat at his desk across the room. He was wildly uninterested in the reaction or the success of the potion you’d brewed. He had more important things to handle, and an experimental calming draught for a future lesson plan was low on his priority list, so of course, that means you were the one to take on the task.

You waited for a reaction.

And waited.

Nothing. You felt nothing. 

Just before you were going to give up and accept the defeat, you actually began to feel something. It was warm and fuzzy, laced in your veins and flowed slowly up your arms. 

Perhaps this is the beginning of the calming effects, you thought. 

The warmth felt funny as it seeped deeper into your bloodstream. Before you knew it, each of your extremities flowed hot with its calming effects. But there was something else. Something you’d never felt from a potion before. A tingling and most desperate sensation found its way between your legs. 

“P-Professor?” You struggled to call out to him, suddenly weary of how you were beginning to feel. You swallowed hard. 

“Yes, Y/N?” He called back, his eyes still glued to the book.

“Are there any…similar potions that I could have accidentally created instead of the calming draught?”

He looked up suddenly. 

“No, there is-....” Snape stopped mid-sentence, setting the book down gently, “Well perhaps, but you would know the difference between peppermint and spearmint”

You looked down at the extra green leaves that remained unused near the pot. You had collected this from a different area of the field than normal, but it smelled and looked like peppermint, so you did not think twice about it. However, now that he questions it, you worry it was, indeed, something else. 

“Let's just say maybe I didn’t, though. If I accidentally used spearmint, what would that mean?” You countered nervously.

His eyes grew wide for a moment. 

“Show me the plant” He insisted. Snape quickly rose from his seat and walked over to your desk. 

You showed him the green leaves you believed to be peppermint. He towered over you.

“It's peppermint, right?” You asked wearily, looking up to him. His furrowed brows revealed his concern.

“No. This is certainly spearmint” He pressed his lips tightly together and twisted the stem between his fingers. 

Your heart sank. What had you done?

“What… what did I brew, then?” You asked cautiously. 

Snape appeared more worrisome and now even a bit uncomfortable. 

“What do you feel?” He asked slowly and cautiously rather than answering your question.

You were hesitant to tell the truth and he could sense it. 

“I feel very warm… and quite…um” You trailed off as you felt your heart beating a hundred miles an hour. Suddenly you felt a raging sense of attraction to his natural musk and cologne. God, was he always so breathtaking?

“Aroused?” He questioned. 

“Yes”. You squeezed your eyes shut. Your cheeks rushed with blood as your response was trailed by a muffled moan. You were embarrassed to admit feeling this way in front of Professor Snape, but there was nothing you could do to stop it. And to hear your professor of many years, and now your colleague, ask you if you felt any sense of sexual arousal made you excited, too. 

“I feared as much” He turned away slowly, bringing his hand to cover his mouth. 

“Professor wha-”

“Quiet. Give me a moment to think” Snape demanded. He paced the room slowly. 

It grew more intense with each passing second. The tingling created a sensitivity upon the surface of your skin. You grazed your arm with your fingertips and chills shot down your spine. 

You clenched your thighs together as your arousal intensified. The professor turned around at this same moment, and let his eyes catch sight of your discomfort. 

He looks good today, you thought to yourself. His jet-black hair fell so beautifully atop his shoulders, and his dark attire somehow never looked better than it did right now with the way it draped down the length of his body. 

“You’ve created something that many have experimented with in the past, but… it's not well documented. It’s dangerous. Think similar to a love potion, however…much more potent” Snape explained, ending his pacing right at your desk once again. His emphasis toward the end was all you needed to hear.  You could tell he was attempting to maintain his composure but you could also sense he was on edge.

“Oh, God” You cried, lowering your head to look down at your feet, “What do I do, Professor?” You begged. Your fists clenched the edges of the table. You needed a release. Or an antidote. “What is the recipe for the antidote?” 

Truly, you wanted the release. Your staff dormitory was nearby, just right down the hall, you could take care of this quickly. Snape looked around, ensuring you were both alone, then used a quick flick of his wand to close the shutters on the windows. It was dimly lit in the classroom now with only the light of many candles illuminating each corner of the room. It was…romantic. Most everyone in the castle was gone. Any remaining professors were locked away in their offices, and the students were well on their way home by now. 

“There isn’t one” He stated firmly. The warm amber luminescence glowed so beautifully upon his skin. 

The effects of the accidental potion were nearing unbearable, now. Every fiber of your being ached so desperately to be touched. 

“Fuck…I…I need” You breathed heavily, clenching your lower belly as your arousal pooled itself between your legs. Your cunt begged you for something…anything. You’d never cussed in front of Professor Snape before, but he could feel the urgency in your voice.

“You must relieve it” He snapped. Frustrated with the decision he knew was about to have to make.

“Severus…” You begged desperately, using his first name for the first time ever. You weren’t even sure what you were begging him for. 

“I must speak bluntly, Ms. Y/L/N, so listen carefully. You are no longer my student. I am not your professor. But this must happen in order to save you.” He began frantically, checking again to make sure the doors were locked. His clarification of your relationship with one another seemed to be more of a reminder for himself than for you. 

“Save me? Christ, will this kill me?” You cried out.

“Yes. If your body is not brought to orgasm several times, it will begin to affect the very core of your nervous system. There is no other way to stop it.” He explained. Hearing him talk about orgasms was unexpected but it aroused you.

Dammit, you thought, can’t he just fuck me? 

No. No matter how much you wanted him right now, you did not want to put him in that position. 

“Okay, I will…I will go back to my room now” You managed to say. He sighed in anticipation of what he would say next. 

“You can’t do it yourself” He began, his voice faltering as he failed to make eye contact with you, “It has to be another person”.

Snape knew exactly what had to be done. The moment he saw the spearmint you placed in his hand, he knew. 

Suddenly, your legs trembled beneath you and your knees buckled. As you felt yourself fall, Professor Snape quickly caught you. His arms wrapped beneath your arms and he lifted you up onto the desk. You whimpered in reaction to this contact against your skin. It was…electrifying, but you were running out of time. Your body was running hotter by the second. In a feeble attempt to cool yourself, you peeled the robe from your shoulder. 

“Please” You begged, gesturing to the fabric that held you hostage in your misery. 

“I-” Snape began, reaching to grab your robe. His eyes searched yours for uncertainty but found none. The expression he held revealed what he couldn’t say. He wanted you. He wanted to help in more ways than one. But no matter what he told himself, he couldn’t help but feel that it was wrong. 

While you squirmed on the table, you watched as Professor Snape eyed the remaining liquid in the cauldron. It was only a few drops, but it was enough to at least bring a man to his knees for a woman begging him to fuck her. But he didn’t need it in order to want you. Snape needed it to convince himself it wasn’t wrong. 

He breathed out heavily before pouring the few drops into the glass and throwing it back, getting as much as he possibly could. Snape winced at the flavor. 

“Professor…w-what are you doing?” You whimpered through your words. 

“We both took the potion. We thought it was a calming draught, and it wasn’t. And we did what we had to do to treat the effects” He responded quickly as if it was rehearsed. You knew what he was insinuating. If anyone found out, if anyone asked, that’s what happened. If Snape was under the effects of this potion too, he would need his release, same as you. With only a few drops, It would be less intense for him, so he could better handle himself. 

“If you’ll allow me, I will help you, my dear” He whispered as he came closer to you propped on the table, holding his face close to yours, speaking sensually against your lips. In one swift motion, he pulled the black robe off your shoulders, letting it rest on the table, leaving you in your sweater and mini skirt. 

Before you could even finish your nod of approval, the hem of your skirt was being pulled up frantically, followed by his wandering fingers that stopped just at the hem of your panties. You were practically dripping and he could feel it. 

“Oh darling” He groaned, standing between your open legs and pressing his lips against your ear. Every hair on your body stood up when he finally got this close to you, “You are so wet for me” 

You rolled your hips against his hovering fingertips. As you looked down, you faintly noticed the bulge that grew in his pants. You weren’t sure if it was the microdose of the potion, or how arousing it was to be in this situation with you, but it was a most intoxicating sight. You could feel the heat radiating from him and knew that he was fully under the effects of the potion. Not nearly as badly as you, but he was about to lose control.

“Professor Snape, I can’t take it anymore, please” You begged him. You needed something inside of you, now.

“Very well” He smirked subtly as he pulled the soaked fabric to the side and pressed his fingers flush against your clit before rubbing rhythmic circles. 

“Fuck!” You cried out and threw your head back, which was quickly caught by Snape’s hand. He held your head up to meet his gaze. The aching and burning persisted but were soothed slightly once his skin was upon yours. It was a surprise to be so reactive to the faintest of touch, but the angry fever burning your skin was electrified, enhancing every single one of your senses. 

“Look at me, Y/N. Oh, you sound so lovely” His voice was like honey as he talked you through your pleasure, admiring the sounds that flew from your lips.  

You locked your gaze with his and stared deep into him. 

It was overwhelming. All of it. The state of your writhing body. The way he looked towering over you. The feeling of his fingers on your delicate bud. Seeing him in such a vulnerable state, something you’d never thought you’d see in a million years. It was all so incredible and absolutely riveting. You thought you might be dreaming.

Snape’s thumb remained working at your clit while two fingers were suddenly pushed inside your cunt. Your walls clenched around his digits as he began pumping them in and out, curling them with every stroke. 

“You need to come. Come for me” He insisted, knowing that the first orgasm would help begin to subside your symptoms. You could’ve reached your high just from the sound of his voice alone, so you knew you were close already. 

Your mouth fell open as the tightest coil of nerves bundled at your core. Suddenly, without hardly any warning from your own body, your orgasm burst open, radiating and flowing through every fiber of your being. Stars danced in your eyes as the euphoria washed over you. Moaning and profanities filled the air, breathless and aggressive as it took you over. 

“That’s it, my love, just like that” He encouraged you through it, keeping his pace while he fucked you with his fingers. You curled your hips, riding his hand instinctively. You came down so slowly, feeling delirious but still hungry for more. More of him.

His cock was stiffened and strained in his trousers, begging to be released, but not until he ensured you were okay after your first high. You reached for the hem of his pants in desperation. 

“I need it” You struggled to form your words. 

“You need my cock? Is that what you need?” He whispered to you, watching your face twist in pleasure as his fingers curled harder with each thrust. 

“Please, Professor” You begged. There was something so hot about calling him that in this setting. He could never admit it, but he loved it, too. 

“As you wish”

He pulled his fingers from your pussy, leaving you empty and clenching around nothing. You whined at the loss.

He watched you struggle to remove your sweater and glided his hands up the side of your body to help pull it over your head, which revealed you wore no bra underneath. Snape growled lowly in approval of the sight. Your bare breasts glistened with sweat under the candlelight. He delicately trailed his fingers down the front of your body, circling your stiffened nipples along the way.

For the first time, he kissed you. His supple lips pressed firmly into yours, adding another layer of intimacy you were not expecting. You moaned into him, feeling his hands cup your burning cheeks as he pulled you into him. As you sat at the edge of the table with Snape positioned between your legs, you felt him shuffle with the clasp of his pants. 

Excitedly, you pulled away from the kiss to see his impressive length released from its restraints. Your thighs clenched together at the sight, which caused you to moan. You could see it on his face, he was burning with the same passion, but he was nervous. Maybe with less of the potency of your accidental creation, you would have had the luxury of anxiety, but not in this state. 

“Are you doing alright?” He asked you, one hand on the back of your neck, forcing your gaze onto him, and the other grasping the base of his cock, ready to give you exactly what you needed. What he needed. 

“More than alright” You breathed. 

“Good” He smiled back at you. You realized in this moment that he’d never fully smiled at you before, and it warmed your heart. 

Hurriedly, he yanked your panties off your body, throwing them to the ground. He pushed up your skirt, making sure it was out of the way. Ever-so-conveniently, the table was at his hips’ level, putting his cock at the perfect height.

He plunged into you, hard. A strangled, choked whimper caught in your throat as you felt overwhelmed with the fullness. Professor Snape sucked in a sharp breath, pleased with how you wrapped around his cock so perfectly. 

“Oh my God” You cried out as he began thrusting slowly, allowing you to adjust to him. It could not last long though, because Snape could feel the animalistic urges overcoming him. 

“Oh, fuck” He groaned deeply, staring down to where his cock disappeared inside of you. 

Something unraveled within Snape. His cautious demeanor was long gone. His brows furrowed into almost an angry expression as he snapped his hips passionately, fucking you hard and ruthlessly now. Your whole body tingled and spasmed in reaction to each thrust. His cock stretched you so wonderfully, and he was intoxicated by the way you took him. Like you were made for him. His hands gripped both sides of your waist, using your curves as leverage to go deeper. 

“You take my cock so well, darling” He praised, increasing his pace.

“It feels s-so fucking good, Professor. I’m going to come again, please…don’t s-s-stop” You stuttered, tripping over your own words as you felt drunk off the pleasure. With the rise of your next orgasm came the subsiding of the heat that coursed through your veins. 

“My pretty little whore, come on my cock” He growled, angling his hips at a deeper angle so that his cock brushed your most sensitive area with each thrust. 

It came over you again so suddenly, sending your body into a pleasurable convulsion. Snape pushed you backward, laying you flat on your back atop the table, and wrapped his fist around your throat. The pressure against your neck made your mind go fuzzy as you rode the high of your second orgasm. 

It felt…otherworldly. Like nothing you could’ve ever imagined. He faltered none in his thrusts as you floated through such indescribable euphoria. As you came back to what felt like reality, you opened your eyes to see Snape admiring you in your most vulnerable state, continuously taking his cock like you were made for it. 

Just one more. You only needed one more. You could feel it. One more orgasm would treat these effects. The only problem was, your body was weakening, and you weren’t sure if you could take it.

“One more, darling. Just one more” He breathed through his moans.

“I-I can’t” You cried. 

“You can. You must, Y/N.” He reminded you with encouragement, “Be a good girl and give me one more”

You nodded weakly. While he fucked you hard, he brought his fingers up to your swollen clit to bring you to your third release. You spasmed beneath his touch. It felt so good. Too good. You squirmed involuntarily, but Snape was not having it. He pulled his length out of you and quickly turned you around, bending you forward to press your face into the table. 

Before you could even process what was happening, he sunk himself back into you from behind and resumed his relentless thrusts. He could hold you down better in this position. He was more in control. 

Even quicker than the first two, your third orgasm unleashed itself upon your body. You writhed and cried out his name, mixed with other profanities as it washed over you. You had an unfamiliar feeling coiling in your lower belly. Before you knew it was even happening, you were squirting through your orgasm, something that had never happened before.  Snape groaned lowly in approval. 

This orgasm was followed by an icy flush that mixed with your blood, taking the burning sensation away completely. It was an ultimate feeling of relief. The pleasure was so intense, a stray tear trickled down your cheek.

“I am close” Professor Snape muttered.

“Come inside me, professor” You whimpered, sending him over the edge instantly.

His thrusts faltered and slowed as a warmth spilled deep inside your walls, coating your cunt completely. Snape bent over to press his chest into your back as he caught his breath. You both were slowly coming down from not only your release, but from the effects of the potion. You expected to feel shame or embarrassment, but neither occurred. 

He was careful pulling out of you, knowing how weak your legs probably were. You tried to catch your breath as he offered his hand, helping you to your seat near the table. 

Without another word, he helped you back into your sweater to allow you to regain your decency as soon as you could. It was hard to process what had just happened, but you truly did not regret even a single second of it. 

“I am sorry for what had to happen, Ms. Y/L/N” Professor Snape said as he kneeled down to look at you. His eyes looked sorrowful and full of guilt, like he blamed himself for what happened. It broke your heart to think he felt this way. You enjoyed this and you know he did too. 

You smiled and held a sleepy expression as you giggled and shook your head. 

“I’m not” You confidently responded.

The same smile you saw for the first time earlier returned to his lips.

“Good” He muttered. 

——-

Please forgive any canon inconsistencies. This was entirely self-indulgent lmaooo. Obviously this potion does not exist and I made it up based on actual calming draught ingredients!

[obae-me]

The OM Characters and How They Hug

Just a lil bit of fluff for me and for you in these trying times

Lucifer: 

Softly yet protectively. With a relaxed arm curved around the shoulder-blades and one protecting the back of the neck, his hand settled behind the head. As the eldest of his brothers, he is well used to making someone feel safe. He might not do this as often as he used to in the Celestial Realm, but there are still occasions where his brothers come to him for one of these hugs. It’s a hug that tells you he’ll take care of it. No matter the problem, no matter the worry, settle it on his shoulders. His pride can handle it. Sometimes he’ll even unfurl his wings to shelter the person he’s hugging, shielding them from the world, making sure they can’t be seen in their moment of vulnerability. 

Mammon: 

Tightly and passionately. Most of the time it’ll be a simple squeeze, standing side by side with whoever he’s accompanying, an arm around their back as he pulls them against him, shoulders shrugging up against each other, his head lightly bonking against theirs as he grins. But if it’s serious, he’ll pull whoever it is close and tight, his arms slipping under theirs, hands grasping at the back of their clothing as he clings to them. His emotions are always open to everyone, even if he tries to hide it. Whoever Mammon is hugging knows exactly how they feel for him, they can feel it in the burning warmth of his body, in every twitching muscle that holds them to him. Everything about his hugs screams ‘I’m right here with you and I’m not going anywhere’.

Levi: 

Nervously but assuring. He constantly shifts on his feet, his arms moving till they settle wherever feels best, more natural, which usually has his head somewhere near or on their shoulder. Sometimes he’ll even have his tail wrap around their waist. He feels like he’s not good at this, like he’s the last person to go to for a hug. There have to be better options but...whoever it was came to him. He can’t...he doesn’t want to pass up on this opportunity. He isn’t the third oldest and strongest of his siblings for nothing. He can mostly only think on the negative, but sometimes that can come in handy. At least it could be worse. Remember that time when they felt even more awful? At least this wasn’t that moment. At least they were here...with him...together. 

Satan: 

Curiously and surprisingly shakily. He’s wrath and yet he’s been sought out for comfort. He can’t help but wonder why. He hugs simply at first with his arms around their back, his hands clasped behind their body. Yet, he’s a bit...unsteady with it. He’s not a natural at this, and yet...he doesn’t mind it. He turns curious, his arms slowly shifting, tightening ever so slightly till he’s satisfied. Is this helping? He’s better at more logically solving problems than embracing, but...this is fine. It’s nice being depended on every once and a while, being wanted for something calm. He’s more used to holding cats, not people, so whoever it is might be surprised (or not so surprised) to find he’ll start stroking the back of their head in a slow rhythm, his fingers scratching at the base of their skull. 

Asmo:

Lovingly and lightly. His arms wrap up around their shoulders, twirling his fingers in the ends of their hair. His hands explore, finding all the tight spots in their body and trying to rub it out of them in little circles. He’s a wonderful source of hugs. Every touch of his feels delicate and intentional. He even seems to know certain pressure points to alleviate some tension, leaving the brain tingling. In his arms, they’re loved, they’re wanted. Breathe it in calmly. Feel the heart beat. Feel the feeling in your limbs. Focus on the brilliant sensations the body possesses. Distract the mind. Live in the now. Here, with him, they are pampered, admired, beautiful. 

Beel: 

Bone-crushingly tight and supportive. The recipient might not be able to breathe for a minute, but he’ll eventually adjust his own strength, still hugging whoever it is as tightly as they can manage. He likes to cover as much of the person he’s holding as he can, chin on their head if they’re shorter than him, which most are. If they’re taller than him, they should be ready to find themselves pushed down a little to feel smaller. Most times he’ll even pick them up a little off the ground. They can feel easy in his arms. He’ll support them, he’ll carry them, he’ll do whatever it takes to make them feel better. Just tell him what he has to do, or he can simply stand here longer, holding them even tighter. 

Belphie: 

Lazily but comforting. He’ll drape his arms over them if he even moves his arms at all. Most times he simply leans into whoever it is, letting them do the holding. Stay into the hug too long, and it’ll turn into a full out cuddle, almost forcing whoever it is to lie down with him and stay a while. If he has to lie directly on them to keep them from moving, he will. It’s his own way of supporting, of caring. His tail might wrap around their ankles to keep them from walking away. His yawns are infectious, making the other person yawn. His soft breathing slowly seeps its way into their lungs, making them breathe deeply and calmly. And, if he’s determined enough, he’ll slowly use his sin to lull them to sleep. Only when they’re not fully awake will he wrap his arms around whoever it is, his head rubbing up against their shoulder or chest. 

Diavolo: 

Strongly and shielding. Despite not having the opportunity very often, anytime it is presented to him, he takes it in stride. He’ll scoop whoever it is up into his arms, curving his large body over them, surrounding them, making them feel like nothing could get to them while he is there. His hold is strong, unwavering, a hand firmly on the back. He will not let go until the time is right. Sometimes he might even laugh, even if the situation feels dreary. He just has so much joy to share, and being here, comforting someone, it makes him happier than they can even imagine. His positivity tends to pool into others. His positive and hopeful outlook shining through the darkest of thoughts. 

Barbatos: 

Politely yet firm. His hands typically settle on their shoulders, going no further, pulling them against him. Only occasionally, if he feels it’s needed, will his hands reach around their back. His fingers hold on surprisingly tightly. They won’t slip from him, or rather, he will not let them go. Sure, he might feel like it’s his duty to uphold peace in the kingdom, but truthfully, he can’t handle seeing those he cares for feel so unlike themselves. And if a gesture such as this will alleviate some of that stress, so be it. He might find himself adjusting and fussing over whoever he is holding, smoothing out wrinkles, pulling off stray hairs, dusting off lint, clipping off loose threads. He can’t help it. It is his way of caring for them. 

Simeon:

Warmly and soothingly. An angel's duty is to comfort. To spread light and joy. It's something he enjoys doing. He'll hold them gently, the warmth from his Celestial body spreading over them, but not in a suffocating way. He almost feels exactly like the sensation one gets when they wrap themselves in a blanket that had just gotten out of the dryer. His cheek presses somewhere against their head, his hand rubbing up and down their spine. It's immediately comforting and whether it's his power or simply his personality no one knows for certain. People come to him for hugs often, even if they'll never admit it. Hugs from Simeon are almost like a reset, a recharge, returning that drained vitality.

Solomon: 

Cautiously yet enveloping. He's not used to people coming to him for hugs. Despite him being alive for who knows how long, he still feels rusty at it. But, of course, if the desire is genuine, who is he to deny something so simple? He hugs like some of those old men who use one arm to pull them in and the other to give them a single pat on the back, but if they need a little more than that, he'll hold onto them longer, trying to remember old memories, feelings of nostalgia for other moments like these that have been long forgotten. Eventually, he'll lean forward, throwing the remaining caution to the wind and hugging them entirely, squeezing hard enough that maybe, this time, the memory will remain forever.

Luke: 

Adorably clingy. He may pout and whine about how he's not some cute little angel, he doesn't want to be treated like a child, but of course his hugs make his denials hard to take seriously. He hugs like his life depends on it, like he'll never ever let go, like the only way he'll leave is if you pry him off. He's got surprising strength for his looks. Sometimes, he likes to jump a little right before he holds on so he can wrap his arms around their neck so he doesn't feel so small. Of course, depending on who he's hugging, they might just pick him up anyway which defeats the purpose, but perhaps he can allow it just this once, if it makes whoever he's hugging feel better.

[lunarw0rks]

i NEED mean!dom!soaps reaction to reader using their safeword for the first time. idc what the reason is, maybe he’s being meaner than usual or reader is overwhelmed, but i’m begging for it please

cw: safeword use, rough sex, mean!dom!soap, aftercare, hurt/comfort

soap gets lost in the moment. it's one of the few sins he's guilty of during sex. you're usually feeling ecstasy, no questions asked. but not always. sometimes he gets lost in the sensations, the power — lost in you.

tonight was one of those nights.

none of the blame landed on him or you. it just didn't feel right. his large hands on your hips as he drills into you. you faced the wall, palms pressed against it as you fought to maintain balance. your knees had long gone weak, trembling and buckling under his touch.

"my dirty girl. fuckin' amazing, aren't you?" instead of hitting all your weak spots, his tip was doing nothing more than causing discomfort. it wasn't anything johnny was doing; your body was simply too exhausted to enjoy it.

the final straw was the hand in your hair, giving it a tug, then whatever degrade he whispered into your ear. as good as it once felt, you needed to breathe. "red, johnny. red." you croaked, repeating yourself in case he wouldn't hear. after all, your throat was raw and dry.

all tension in your arched back released at once, the fist in your hair unclamped and placed on your shoulder instead. through his pants, he muttered an are ye alright? and a few apologies.

"shite, let me— hang on—" slowly, he pulled out of you, alleviating the strain in your core. the muscles relaxed but remained irritated and sore from their abuse. once he withdrew, the hand on your shoulder turned you around. before your weak knees could give up entirely, you found your head in his chest.

his strong arms kept you upright, running over the bite marks on your back and shoulder. you shuttered, unsure of its origin being sensitivity or guilt. never once, did he make it seem like you had to do anything, unless playful. that's the whole reason for the color system, isn't it?

yellow; slow down or go gentle. and red; unused until now— meaning stop. that, he did. instantly. so, why did it feel this way? it had to be nerves. perhaps, your anxieties about disappointing him.

tenderly and firmly, he forced eye contact with you. "don't you dare apologize, bonnie. see? we're done with that. no more, eh?" he staggered to the couch only a few feet away, allowing your full, limp weight atop him.

noticing the state of your shivering thighs, he hooked them around his waist manually, letting your head fall into the crook of his neck. "if 's somethin' you don't want me to do again, i'd rather ye tell me." up and down, his hand sailed across your back, effectively soothing your overwhelm.

but it wasn't. you can and had handled him like that before, and he knew it. tonight just wasn't the night — simple as that.

his voice remained authoritative, but his demeanor was the exact opposite of his dominant role. "listen to me," instead of forcing you to look this time, he let you remain slumped against him.

"you never do somethin' you don't want to, don't bloody care how into it i am. did the right thing, didn't you? 'm proud of you."

[sp-by-april]

You know what makes me feral??? DRY HUMPING. something where the reader sneaks into Kyle’s bedroom in the middle of the night Kyle sneaks her in for a simple romantic movie night together but things get steamy because the reader is HORNY and so they start making out and dry humping eachother heheheheh

Maybe they almost get caught by Kyle’s parents or brother so she has to hide in the closet. After he can just eat her out if they can do it. Or both!

Yessssss! This is what I'm talking about!! A++++ prompt execution. Let me feed off your excitement. 🧛🏽‍♀️🦇

Kyle x F!Reader

[Submit a prompt that makes you FERAL] [Kyle Broflovski Master List]

I came in through Kyle’s window. We were cuddled up on his bed, just catching up on some streaming stuff on his laptop you know? A cute, perfect date night.

And it really was perfect!

Kyle was holding me. I was on his bed. I could smell his scent all over and feel his weight on me. God, I was so turned on, but I tried to ignore it.

Then of course the hottest sex scene I’ve ever seen came on.

I pressed my thighs together to try and alleviate a little bit of the tension caused by the wet warmth pooling between my legs.

That was a mistake. It made me want it so much more.

I pulled Kyle into a kiss. Of course, he was receptive. His tongue slid in my mouth and as our tongues rolled over each other, I was only getting more and more worked up because he started to run his hands over my body.

We kept kissing as I climbed on top of him. Then he grabbed my hips and pulled me down, grinding against me.

That bit of friction felt like something that I needed.

I rolled my hips over him in the hopes of getting a little more relief and I’m pretty sure he moaned in my mouth. Either way, I could feel how turned on he was. He was throbbing underneath me so hard, it was driving me even crazier. Luckily, I had a skirt on, so my panties made it easy to feel everything as I rubbed my clit right against the hard-on pushing up against his zipper.

Then we hear creaking on the stairs and in the hall. His parents came home.

Kyle looked at me, “Hide. Now,”

He grabbed the laptop and put it on his lap while I jumped up as quietly as possible and tucked myself away in his closet.

There was a knock at the door, just like he predicted.

Kyle cleared his throat, “Yeah?”

“You’re still up?” It was his father’s voice.

“Can’t sleep,” Kyle said plainly, “Got that big test tomorrow, you know?”

I never knew Kyle was such a good liar. I almost believed him and asked myself if I should have been studying.

“Gotcha, but you should still try to sleep,” His dad believed him too.

“Well, I’m in bed and the lights are off, so…”

“Fair enough,” Gerald said, “Goodnight, Kyle,”

“’Night,” He sighed as his father closed the door.

I slowly opened the door and peeked to make sure the coast was really clear.

Kyle put the laptop down and gestured for me to come back as he sat on the edge of the bed.

I hastily made my exit and climbed onto his lap. He quickly pulled me into another kiss and slid his hands under my shirt.

He helped me pull it off and unclasped my bra. We pulled that off too. I dipped my hands between us so that I could unbutton and unzip his pants. He helped me push them down and I finally had him in my hand.

Kyle had such a great dick, it was unbelievable. I loved just stroking him sometimes and watching him throb and drool for me. As fun as that always was, I didn’t have the patience for it. I needed him immediately.

I slid my wet slit over him and his breath hitched the moment we touched. He grabbed my hips and pushed me down. I gasped as he squeezed inside of me and he pulled me into another kiss as I began to rock my hips.

Finally. A little bit of relief. I was so determined to get off, and I was so revved up that if I didn’t come immediately I was convinced the pressure, the warmth, the aching, would kill me. I started moving faster and using more pressure and Kyle moaned openly in my mouth as I rolled my hips.

“Fuck, you’re too good,” He sighed against my lips, “Be quiet,”

His eyes rolled back as I rolled my hips again, so I pulled him into another quick kiss, “You’re the one who needs to be quiet.

I locked my mouth onto his to dull the noise and I just fucking went for it. He held onto my hips and groaned into my mouth as quietly as possible, but God, he still sounded so hot. Knowing he was enjoying me so much just threw me over the edge.

I pushed a small, trembling moan into his mouth as all my muscles tensed up. The wave of pleasure completely took me over. Nothing else existed to me in that moment. My soft, silky walls fastened up, gripping Kyle and holding onto him like a pathetic, needy vise.

Then his hips bucked up into me so hard, my body jumped and I almost cried out. He groaned low into our kiss as his cock pulsed and pulsed so strongly I could feel every spurt as he pumped a hot, sticky mess inside of me.

He panted in my mouth for a bit and smiled, “Thanks for coming over,”

Then we heard a familiar creaking in the hall.

[soolh1k]

hi, could you write skz accidentally making you cry?

Skz accidentally making you cry

notes: english is not my first language so apologies for any misspelling or grammar. i hope u like it !! :)))

type: narrated text

genre: angst w fluff

WARNINGS: swearing, a little bit angsty but some fluff at the end, let me know if you'd like to be tagged !! :))

.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ

დ Bang Christopher

You're at home, eagerly waiting for your boyfriend to return from work. It's been an exhausting day for both of you, but you know you need his support and company to alleviate the built-up stress. Finally, you hear the door open, and your boyfriend enters the room, visibly tired and worried.

You approach him with a smile and give him a warm hug. However, as you embrace him, you can sense the tension in his body. You look at him with concern and ask how his day has been. Your boyfriend lets out a heavy sigh and simply glares at you annoyed. With that look, you knew that things hadn't gone well for him at work.

You understand work-related stress perfectly and try to encourage him, telling him that he's doing a great job and that everything will work out. As you try to uplift him, your boyfriend vents his frustrations, and unintentionally, his tone of voice becomes harsher than usual. The words that come out of his mouth are those of someone frustrated and exhausted, catching you off guard.

"I'm so tired, you know? I'd rather you give me some space, please."

"I know, Chris, but you can always talk to me when you feel like this. That's why I'm here."

"I already know that, but I don't want you around. Your presence annoys me. I just want to be alone, okay? Why do you always make things so difficult? It's like you never understand me, woman. Just go away. I don't want to see you."

"Chris, do you hear yourself? You're being very rude. I understand that you're stressed, but that doesn't give you the right to speak to me like that."

"Just shut up, my god. Your voice is so annoying. If you don't like how I'm acting, why don't you just leave? I told you I want to be alone. Do you not have a brain to comprehend that? Please, go away."

The words deeply impact your sensitivity, and you feel hurt. Sadness clouds your face, and tears start welling up in your eyes. You try to remain calm, but the combination of your boyfriend's stress and the emotional intensity accumulated throughout the day becomes overwhelming.

Realizing that he has hurt your feelings, your boyfriend abruptly stops and looks at you with remorse. His eyes fill with concern and guilt as he sees your tears. Immediately, he sincerely apologizes and embraces you tightly, trying to console you and explaining that he never intended to hurt you in any way.

"Forgive me, my god, I'm an idiot," tears start streaming down his eyes too.

"I didn't mean to talk to you like that. You know stress consumes me, and I know it doesn't give me the freedom to speak to you in that manner. I want you to know that I don't think those things about you. I would never think them, and I don't know why I said them, but please believe me. I love you too much to let my stupid actions ruin us. Please forgive me and try to understand me even though I may seem very selfish. I'm sorry."

As the sincere apologies flow from your boyfriend's lips, you understand that his behavior was unintentional. You know that he's also going through a difficult time, and work stress can sometimes affect his mood beyond his control. You release another sob, but this time, they are tears of relief as you feel his love and genuine remorse.

Your boyfriend continues to hold you in his embrace and assures you that he will always value and care for your feelings. He promises to work on managing his stress better and avoid venting on you in

a way that hurts you. Together, you decide to seek healthier ways to deal with individual and collective stress, such as open communication and mutual support.

This incident strengthens your relationship as you learn to overcome obstacles together and stay connected even in challenging times. Although your tears were a result of momentary pain, both of you understand that it's an opportunity to grow and strengthen your love.

.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ

დ Lee Minho

You're having a fun time with your boyfriend at home. You've been joking and teasing each other for a while, creating an atmosphere of joy and laughter. Both of you enjoy this dynamic and feel comfortable with each other.

In the midst of the fun, your boyfriend decides to play a prank that turns out to be heavier than you expected. He starts making sarcastic comments and teasing about something that you know makes you feel a bit uncomfortable. At first, you think it's just part of the game and try to laugh along with him.

However, as he continues with his jokes, you start feeling more and more vulnerable and emotionally affected. The words he uses no longer seem funny, but hurtful. You can tell that your boyfriend doesn't realize how his words are affecting you and carries on with the prank, thinking everything is fine.

The combination of excessive teasing and your own sensitivity causes tears to well up in your eyes. You try to hold them back, but it's hard to ignore the pain that's building up inside you. Your face reflects a mix of sadness and confusion, as you didn't expect the situation to escalate to this point.

Your boyfriend, noticing your reaction and realizing he has gone too far, immediately stops. His expression changes to one of surprise and remorse as he sees your tears. He realizes that he has unintentionally hurt your feelings and quickly apologizes sincerely.

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm so sorry. I didn't realize I was hurting you. I just wanted to play a playful prank, but now I see I crossed the line. Please forgive me," he says with a mix of concern and remorse in his voice. You didn't know what to feel because it's clear that you're not very open about sharing your insecurities with your boyfriend, which caused this unfortunate situation.

It's difficult for you to speak due to the emotions, but you nod your head, letting him know that you understand it was a mistake and that you accept his apology. He quickly comes closer and embraces you tenderly, trying to comfort you.

As he holds you, you allow him to console you and also express how you felt. You explain that although you enjoy having fun together, there are certain topics or boundaries that should not be crossed. Both of you commit to better communication and maintaining a healthy playful environment in the future.

"I'm really sorry, bunny, it wasn't my intention to make you feel this way."

"It wasn't entirely your fault, babe. I don't talk to you much about my insecurities, but from now on, I'll make sure to share my fears and everything that entails."

"We're both going to improve, I promise, bunny."

He promises to be more aware of your boundaries in the future and make sure that the pranks stay at a comfortable level for both of you. He acknowledges that, although the intention was to play, he didn't properly consider your feelings at that moment.

As the emotions calm down, you both use this experience as an opportunity to strengthen your relationship. You learn the importance of respecting each other's emotional boundaries and how to take care of each other.

.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ

დ Seo Changbin

You're at home with your boyfriend, enjoying a relaxed afternoon together. Suddenly, as you pass by the room's doorway, you overhear your boyfriend speaking negatively to someone. Curiosity and concern flood your mind, and you decide to stay silent and listen a little longer.

As you listen, tears well up in your eyes. The words you hear are hurtful and seem to be directed at you. Your heart shatters as you try to process what you've just heard. Without uttering a word, you distance yourself and lock yourself in another room, trying to cope with the overwhelming rush of emotions.

"God, she's so damn annoying. Can't you understand how much her attitude irritates me? Acting all flirtatious, like she's the best person on earth. Someone needs to open her eyes, please. It even embarrasses me to see her," your boyfriend commented over the phone.

"No, of course not. I never want to see her again in my life. Seriously, I hope she realizes the situation and gets that I'm not interested. Well, hopefully things will get better. Talk to you later, Hyun," he ended the call, and you rushed out of the room.

After a while, your boyfriend realizes your reaction and frantically starts searching for an explanation. He looks for you throughout the house and finally finds you sitting in a corner, tears streaming down your cheeks. His face reflects anguish and confusion, not understanding what has happened.

"What happened? Why are you crying?" he asks, his voice trembling, cautiously approaching you.

Looking him directly in the eyes, you share your hurt feelings and tell him what you overheard. You explain how betrayed and hurt you felt, believing he was speaking ill of you. Your voice trembles as you struggle to hold back tears.

Visibly shocked, your boyfriend takes your hands in his and tries to calm you down. He begs you to give him a chance to explain and assures you that he wasn't talking about you. With a sigh, he tells you that he was talking about a girl he recently met, who doesn't seem to understand that he's not interested in her. His words were taken out of context, and he understands how they could have been misunderstood.

"Love, I wasn't talking about you. I'm sorry if you thought that. I would never speak about you like that, and I didn't even want to speak that way about her. But honestly, I've been so bothered by her flirting with me and she had me fed up. I was just telling Hyunjin what was happening because he noticed I started going to the gym earlier than usual. I wanted to avoid her. Please forgive me, I didn't mean to hurt you."

As you listen to his explanation and see the honesty in his eyes, your tears begin to fade away. Slowly, you start to comprehend that it was a misunderstanding, and your boyfriend never intended to hurt you.

"I'm really sorry, sweetheart. I didn't want you to feel this way. I wasn't talking about you, but about that girl. I made a mistake by not clarifying it, and I understand why you felt hurt. I promise I'll be more careful with my words in the future," he says sincerely.

As your boyfriend's words reach your heart, the tears give way to a sense of relief. You know that he cares about you and genuinely regrets the situation. He embraces you gently, seeking to console you and reaffirm his love.

You decide to forgive him, knowing that we all make mistakes, and he has acknowledged his own. Together, you commit to strengthening your communication and promise to openly and honestly discuss any concerns or misunderstandings that may arise in the future.

.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ

დ Hwang Hyunjin

You're having a fun night with your group of friends, laughing and having a great time. Your boyfriend is also there, but as the night progresses, you start noticing a change in his attitude. He becomes distant and increasingly jealous.

At one point, your boyfriend approaches you and starts making baseless accusations. His words are aggressive and filled with unfounded jealousy. You try to calm the situation and explain that there's nothing to worry about, that you're just enjoying the company of your friends.

"What was that?"

"What are you talking about? I don't understand, babe."

"You saw how your little friend was looking at you? It's obvious he likes you, bella."

"What are you talking about? Don't be ridiculous. We're just friends, love."

"I'm not being ridiculous. I'm telling you he likes you. The way he looks at you is the same way I look at you, with love and desire. I won't let this go unnoticed. Let's go, please."

"Are you jealous, love? You know I only like you. I love only you, babe. Please trust that nothing will happen."

"For once, listen to me, bella. Let's go, damn it. I want to go home now. I'm tired of you and them." You were shocked and couldn't respond, so Hyunjin took it as a "I don't want to leave."

However, he persists in his accusations, raising his voice and demanding unnecessary explanations. You feel cornered and attacked, not understanding why he has taken this aggressive stance. You try to stay calm, but his hurtful words start to affect you emotionally.

"I'm tired of it. Do whatever you want, go kiss him if you want. I don't care anymore."

"What are you talking about? Of course not, Hyunjin, please understand."

"Forget it. I'm tired of seeing you not believing me. Come back before it gets darker. I'm going home. Enjoy your night, I guess."

Tears begin to fill your eyes as you try to hold them back. You can't understand how such a fun night took such a drastic and painful turn. Your boyfriend, noticing your reaction and realizing he has gone too far, stops immediately. His expression changes from anger to surprise and remorse as he sees your tears.

"Oh, bella, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry," he says with a trembling voice, approaching you with a gesture of repentance. "I was jealous, and I let my insecurities get the best of me. But understand that I only want to protect you and that you mean so much to me. I didn't want to hurt you. It's just that he's so handsome, and I'm afraid you'll leave me for someone better. You're what I value the most, and you're the only thing that keeps me alive. Please forgive me. I didn't mean to hurt you."

Despite the pain you feel, you understand that his jealousy stems from a place of love and concern for you. However, you also let him know that the way he has treated you has been unfair and hurtful. You express your feelings honestly, explaining how his words have deeply hurt you and made you feel misunderstood.

"It's not fair what you did, Hyun."

"I know, I'm sorry."

"Don't worry, I know you love me and want the best for me. It's okay, but next time you feel like this, tell me, and we'll work it out together, cutie." He simply nodded his head.

Your boyfriend, visibly affected by your words, apologizes once again and hugs you tenderly. He assures you that he will work on his

jealousy and communicate in a healthier way. He acknowledges that his actions have been unfair and that he needs to learn to trust you and the strength of your relationship.

Together, you decide to take some time to discuss your concerns and fears, setting boundaries and committing to supporting each other. You learn that open and honest communication is essential to overcome jealousy and build a stronger, healthier relationship.

As emotions calm down, you realize that although this incident made you cry, it has also allowed you both to grow and understand each other better. You feel comforted by the fact that your boyfriend has recognized his mistakes and is willing to work on them.

.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ

დ Han Jisung

You're at home, enjoying a chill moment when you receive a text on your phone. It's your boyfriend, telling you he's written a song for you and wants to share it. You feel excited and eager to listen to it since you know he's really talented in music.

You open the audio file and a beautiful melody starts playing. As you listen to the lyrics, tears fill your eyes. The song's words express all the love and admiration your boyfriend feels for you. It's a touching declaration that hits you right in the heart.

Overwhelming emotion and happiness wash over you. You're so thrilled to have someone who values and loves you like this. Tears of joy start streaming down your cheeks as you keep listening to the song over and over again. Your emotions are so intense that you can't help but cry tears of happiness.

Your boyfriend, eagerly waiting for your reaction, realizes he's made you cry. He quickly approaches you, concerned and confused.

"Doll face, what's wrong? Why are you crying?" he asks softly, wrapping his arms around you.

"Don't you like it? Should I change something? Is the lyrics weird? Give me a few hours and I'll make another song for you, love. Give me another chance."

With a smile through your tears, you try to explain how happy his song makes you and how deeply it touches your heart. You sincerely thank him for his sweet gesture and assure him that these are tears of happiness.

"I'm the luckiest person in the world, Hannie. I don't deserve you, really. You're an amazing guy, and I love you so much. Thank you for always being by my side and making me so happy. If I could give you the world, I would. Please never leave me. I love you."

"Oh, love, I didn't mean to make you cry. I just wanted to express how I feel about you through music," he says tenderly, wiping away your tears with his thumbs. "I'm so glad you liked the song and that it made you happy. You're the most important person to me, and I want you to know how much I love you."

As he comforts you and holds you close, you feel overwhelmed with love for him. You realize how lucky you are to have someone who understands you so well and strives to make you happy. Although his intentions were pure, and the song was beautiful, tears flowed due to the intensity of your emotions.

Together, you celebrate this special moment and promise each other to continue sharing and expressing your love in ways that bring happiness and a sense of being cherished. It serves as a reminder of the depth of your bond and the beauty of your relationship.

This incident teaches you the power of music to convey emotions and the strength of love to touch someone's heart. From now on, that song becomes something very special for both of you, reminding you of the love and happiness you share.

.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ

დ Lee Felix

You're hanging out with your boyfriend at home, laughing and chatting. But suddenly, you notice a change in his behavior. He seems irritated and distant, and his expression shows that something's not right.

You try to figure out what's going on, but he responds curtly and avoids having a conversation. You try to approach him and ask if everything's okay, but he just tells you he has a headache and needs some quiet time.

"Damn it, I have a headache, can you just be quiet? I don't feel good," he snaps. "Do you want me to bring you tea? Or a painkiller? Should I take you to get checked out? You should lie down for a while."

"What don't you understand!? Just shut up, can't you keep that pretty mouth of yours shut for a second, oh my God, are you a parrot? Stop with the nonsense, now leave me alone, go away," Felix seemed to get a bit worked up, even raising his voice at you.

You feel confused and worried because you don't know what caused his irritation. You try to give him space and time to recover, but you can't help but feel hurt by his distant attitude.

In the meantime, you continue doing your own activities, trying to distract yourself and give him the space he needs. But deep down, it hurts that he silenced you and didn't share with you what was bothering him.

After a while, your boyfriend returns to the room where you are. He comes close to you, looking remorseful.

"I'm sorry for being distant and yelling at you like that. I shouldn't have acted that way, I'm sorry," he says softly, with his eyes lowered. "I had a really bad headache, and I was irritated, but that's no excuse to treat you like that. I didn't mean to make you cry, babe, I'm really sorry."

Tears start filling your eyes as you listen to his sincere apologies. Although it hurts that he was irritated and ignored you, you understand that he also has difficult moments that can affect his behavior.

"I don't want you to apologize for feeling bad, but it hurt that you ignored me and silenced me," you respond with a trembling voice. "I understand you had a headache, but I would have liked it if you had told me. I want to be there for you, even in tough times."

Your boyfriend nods, genuinely remorseful for his behavior. He takes your hands and looks into your eyes.

"You're right, I shouldn't have shut you out like that. I appreciate your support and your willingness to stand by me even when I'm going through tough times," he says sincerely. "I promise to work on communicating better with you and not pushing you away when I feel bad. You're important to me, and you should never feel silenced, let alone threatened by me. God, I was such a big idiot, I'm sorry."

Even though tears continue to flow, you feel a sense of relief hearing his commitment to improving communication and valuing you more in difficult situations. Together, you decide to take some time to openly and honestly talk about your emotions and needs, thereby strengthening your relationship.

As the days go by, you see how your boyfriend keeps his promise and makes an effort to be more aware of his actions and words when he's irritated or going through a tough time. Both of you learn to support each other and communicate effectively, overcoming any obstacles that may arise.

.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ

დ Kim Seungmin

You're excited to go out with your boyfriend and decide to wear a special outfit. You make an effort to look good and feel confident in your clothing choice. When you meet up with your boyfriend, he looks you up and down and starts laughing.

"Wow, is that what you're wearing?" he says, laughing. "I think someone went a little overboard with fashion today."

"Damn, I thought I was the one with bad fashion sense, apparently not."

"Stop joking, Seung, you can't handle how cute I look."

"I'm not joking, are you seriously going to wear that today? I don't want anyone to see me with you if you wear that."

At first, you think he's just joking and you join in the laughter. But as seconds pass, you realize that his comments could be hurtful. Tears start welling up in your eyes as you struggle to hide your hurt feelings.

Your boyfriend notices your reaction and realizes that his jokes were inappropriate. He quickly approaches you with an apologetic expression on his face.

"Oh, blossom, I'm so sorry," he says apologetically. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, I was just joking. I know you've put effort into looking good and you look beautiful, seriously."

Tears start falling down your cheeks as you try to explain how his comments affected you. You express how important it is for you to feel appreciated and supported by him, even in seemingly insignificant situations.

"I understand it was a joke, but I felt really bad," you say with a trembling voice. "I put effort into choosing my outfit and I wanted to feel good with you. I need you to support me and make me feel valued, even in small things like how I dress."

Your boyfriend sincerely apologizes and embraces you tenderly. He understands how much he has hurt you and is determined to make it right.

"I'm sorry for making you feel this way. I shouldn't have mocked you like that. I just wanted to joke around, you know how silly I can get with my jokes. It wasn't my intention to make you cry, blossom. You're honestly the most beautiful person my eyes have ever seen. Don't let the comments I made affect you. You're even more gorgeous every day," he says softly. "You're beautiful and precious to me, and I never want to make you feel bad. I appreciate your effort, and I promise to be more aware of your feelings in the future."

As he comforts you and apologizes, you feel a sense of relief in your heart. You appreciate his willingness to learn from his mistakes and improve the way he communicates with you.

Both of you take a moment to openly and honestly discuss how you want your relationship to be, based on mutual respect and acceptance. You agree to be more sensitive and considerate with your words and jokes to avoid unnecessary hurt.

Over time, you see your boyfriend keeping his promise and showing greater care and support in all aspects of the relationship. You learn to communicate more effectively, accept differences, and value each other.

.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ

დ Yang Jeongin

You're having a chill night at home with your boyfriend. You both decide to snuggle up on the couch and enjoy a horror movie together. As the movie progresses, your boyfriend starts telling you scary stories to amp up the excitement.

While listening to his chilling tales, you feel the tension creeping over you. You try to keep your composure and not let it affect you, but your imagination starts playing tricks on your mind.

After the movie, you decide to call it a night. You climb into bed next to your boyfriend, trying to leave the scary stories behind and calm yourself down. However, the dark atmosphere and vivid details of the stories he told still linger in your head.

In the middle of the night, you wake up startled by a terrifying nightmare. Your heart is racing, and tears stream down your cheeks. You quickly seek comfort and security in your boyfriend's arms.

Your boyfriend wakes up to your sobbing and embraces you tenderly, sensing your distress.

"What's wrong, babydoll? Did I have something to do with your nightmare?" he asks, concerned, as he holds you close.

"It was my fault, right? I'm sorry. You know my imagination runs wild, and once I start, I can't stop. I'm sorry," his last words make you laugh a little.

Through your sobs, you manage to explain how the combination of the horror stories and your imagination led to a dreadful nightmare.

"You're such a goof, and so am I. How could I have thought that Annabelle would come along with the nun to invite me to dinner at their haunted house?" Both of you burst into laughter, realizing that while your nightmare might have been silly, it was still terrifying.

Your boyfriend gently strokes your hair and offers words of comfort.

"I'm really sorry, I had no idea it would affect you this much. I never intended to scare you like that," he says softly. "I promise I won't tell you any more horror stories before bedtime if they make you feel bad. I'm here to protect and take care of you, not to frighten you."

You cling to him, allowing yourself to feel his warm embrace as tears continue to roll down your cheeks. Gradually, the sense of safety and love begins to alleviate your fear and sadness.

"Thank you for being here and understanding how I feel," you whisper, voice trembling. "Your support means a lot to me. I don't want you to feel guilty, but it comforts me to know that you're willing to avoid things that scare me. I love you."

Your boyfriend hugs you tighter and whispers in your ear, "I love you too, and I'll do everything I can to protect you and make sure you feel safe. Together, we'll overcome your nightmares and anything else that scares you."

You spend the rest of the night in his arms, feeling his love and support helping you calm down and go back to sleep.

.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ

Tags !!

@albaficaslover

@damselettism

[fleursbending]

hello!! i hope you're doing well and don't forget to take care of yourself!!

could i please request a lo'ak x fem metkayina reader with dialogue prompt 5?

thank you so much if you do!! make sure you're taking breaks, okay? <3

𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐇𝐢𝐧𝐭. | Lo'ak Sully

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : while you were one of the most sought members of the clan for your intelligence, sometimes you tended to be as dense as a rock. or in other words, lo’ak proves time and time again - that he only wishes to be worthy of your love.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : lo'ak sully x fem!metkayina reader

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 : 5. "Would you acknowledge my feelings for you if I kissed you right now? You can't seem to take a damn hint, [name]."

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : this was part of a writing event i did for reaching 100 followers, it's crazy to me that now we are on the way to 1000. i'm forever grateful of all the love and support you guys give me! an official permanent prompt list will be up soon where you can request whatever you'd like any time. "ˏˋ °•*⁀➷" indicates a flashback. anyways enjoy loverboy lo'ak <333.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: dumb with love reader trope, reader is a dense mf, lo'ak is a lovesick fool, a lil angst but mostly fluff, minor cussing.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 3.4k words !!!!

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 : @eywas-heir @spicycloudsalad @missdreamofendless @prty-poisxn @scarlettwitch-4 @23victoria @avidreader3107 @purplehyacinthss @itssiaaax @neteyamoa @tsireyasgf @nijirozzz @useryourbut @yua-himari @sweetheartlizzie07 @grierpilots @reneehillary69 @fruitsalad1

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐓 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆, well almost everything it seems. The Metkayina clan admired you for your intelligence and quick thinking under pressure. Somehow you always found a way to alleviate high-tension situations and find solutions to ongoing issues in your community. 

Y/n was most well-known for her baskets, and while that may sound odd. It was her pride and joy. She’d found ways to intricately weave baskets of different sizes and durabilities. Being able to have more room for storage, or able to withhold more weight. It would give her an immense amount of comfort when people would praise her for such random yet useful interventions. 

For example, “the carrier” - an object weaved in the shape of the Na’vis shoulders so you can hang your clothes on them! A true miracle worker.

Don’t get Lo’ak wrong, he absolutely treasured those aspects of Y/n. But you were outright dumb sometimes, which was quite the contrasting statement. 

The poor Sully boy could hold a sign saying, “I don’t just see you, I thrive in your presence. I am the best version of myself when I am with you. I really like you!” Yet you’d still just nod and even fist-bump him, probably commenting on how sweet he is. 

Like God damn woman, take a hint! 

Were you just blind to love? Playing hard to get? Oblivious? Lo’ak truly did not know, and Kiri did not offer much help in that department either. 

The two girls were just starting to get close to one another, alongside Tsireya. And no one else wanted to be friends with the eldest Sully daughter. She was not risking a strain in a newly developed friendship just to help his ass feel better.

Maybe, he thought. Just maybe he wasn’t being obvious enough? From then on he decides to go the extra mile with his intentions.

Getting your food for you, walking you to places. Getting callouses and blisters on his hands just to learn your almost mystical weaving techniques just to take some of the workload off you.

Neteyam had witnessed these obvious advances and the shift in his demeanor, deciding to use this as ample opportunity to tease him.

He remarked, “Baby brother, that is what friends do.”

The younger had hissed, pushing the eldest in annoyance. 

Friends?! Is he fucking with me? Absolutely not. The boy had muttered to himself as he begrudgingly stomped out of the mauri. 

A new determination flickered in his eyes as he saw you in the distance, snickering at whatever girls talk about with Tsireya. 

Lo’ak would do whatever it takes and prove that he is worthy of your attention and love.

Instead of doing the normal thing, like asking your parents if he can court you. He figured, eh? Why not stir the pot in his own way? He’s an independent young man! He can handle this on his own.

His touches began to linger more, it felt like his scent had been roped to your skin. Always attentively wrapping an arm around your shoulders, or his large hand would basically engulf the entirety of your wrist. He’d guide you to little spots on the outskirts of Awa’atlu that he personally found great comfort in, even then the skin-to-skin contact would linger.

These were places you’ve lived amongst your entire life but always brushed by in passing. Your heart would grow twice the size, being able to witness the fondness twinkling in his eyes as he’d appreciate every single part of nature he came across.

It lit a spark deep within your bones, one you’d furiously try to stomp on to take out. 

Lo’ak did not help in that sense, considering he’d show how protective he was over you whenever a fellow boy of the clan would give you even an ounce of their attention. You’d nag at him to stop the act, saying you could handle it on your own.

The cherry on top? You’d pinch his cheek, and that was it. Nothing more, nothing less.

No, “Lo’ak you’re so handsome”. Or, “Lo’ak you take such great care of me, I like you too!”.

Day by day, he was becoming more fed up and frustrated. All he had to do back at home was slightly teasingly flirt with a girl for the heck of it, and they’d already be profusely blushing. 

But you had that sweet smile always gracing your face, and it wasn’t that he didn’t love it. Because frankly, he really does. 

It just felt like he was getting nowhere, prancing back and forth to try to encase himself in your heart. 

Lo’ak’s ego has never been shot down like this before, and it was dampening his mood. He just wanted to dote on you, be there for you. Not like he was now, but as a partner. Someone who could kiss you, cuddle you. He craved for you to ease his worries, to reciprocate his tumultuous feelings. 

To him, it felt like he was climbing up a tree that very soon he’d be pushed down from. He was praying to Eywa that all his efforts would be worth it in the end. 

If only he already knew Y/n returned all his feelings. To be fair, you weren’t the greatest at showing or even expressing it. In her eyes, she doesn’t perceive any of these motions Lo’ak is going through as anything more than platonic. 

Even Kiri is tired of this, because yeah. Maybe this friendship is willing to be strained and bent a bit because her dear brother is losing his literal marbles.

She can’t fault you though, you’ve told her time and time again. No boy had ever expressed such avid interest in you, you’ve always been an afterthought to them. They were almost always sent your way to collect your creations for their families. In their eyes, the Olo'eyktan's daughter was far more of a catch than she would ever be.

You were okay with that, to some degree it benefitted you. Although not this time.

His insecurities started to riddle him, eating up all the hopes and desires he had painted for the both of you. Can he not live up to whatever prior expectations you may already have going on in your pretty mind? Lo’ak can’t help but overthink because he feels like he is going nowhere.

Now, that wasn’t your intention at all. There was something about the boy that utterly terrified you, he was the first guy in her life that she actually considered a friend. That meant the entire world they orbited around to her. Lo’ak to her was new waves of entirely unexplored waters. It was a feeling that she hadn’t been able to delve into for eons.

Yn’s clan was isolated, in the middle of the ocean. Scattered amongst dozens of other villages alike the one she inhabits. Nothing remotely new had graced their presence for so long. 

How dare she not fall for the inquisitive and rebellious forest boy? Every day he gave her a taste of something so avant-garde to her already influential mind. Every day he gave her a new perspective and angle to a place she’s coexisted in her entire life. 

So while Lo’ak was concerned about his feelings being dismissed, Y/n was winded from even encountering them in the first place. 

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ˳೫˚

There was something amiss. 

It’s now midday, and there hasn’t been any sighting of Lo’ak. Y/n didn’t see him at breakfast, or at his mauri. He wasn’t at their usual meeting spot either. She remembers it like the back of her hand, the corner to turn to get to her own mauri. He’d always be standing there with a coy smirk, leaning against the structure pole closest to him. Not today, though.

You’d been looking for him all day, even asking his siblings. They all gave you the same answer. “Do we ever know what he is truly up to?” 

Yeah, they had a good point on that one.

Y/n couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling nibbling at her stomach though. She had looked to where their families Ilu’s were kept, his was still there. She swam in the ocean, diving to his favorite spots. Her eyes even caught sight of Payakan in the distance, and there was no cute boy from the forest by his side. 

You start to feel a great sense of loss. This was something you certainly were not used to and never wanted to be. Day in and day out, he was without a doubt always here. By your side.

There was a certain emptiness creeping under your bones, lapping at the crevices of your heart and situating there. Dread poured down on you like the rain kissing at your teal skin. 

For the first time in these last few months, you had never felt so alone. 

Y/n had never felt so utterly vexed, and no one around her was giving any fucks. 

(Stupid Lo’ak, teaching her curse words. Stupid Lo’ak, for making her care so damn fucking much.)

She stomped to her mauri, letting out a restless sigh as the rain ceased. Grabbing at her supplies she made it her own personal mission to situate at a part of the island not regularly inhabited. 

You missed him and the solace his presence brought you. His little snarky remarks or complaints about Ao’nung being a dickhead again. Or Lo’ak whining as you would mend his wounds, blisters scattered across his palms and fingertips. Work and effort he had put into helping you figure out the new invention that had been weighing on your mind. 

Just the little things that should be so minor, weren’t to you.

Now you can’t help but ponder on it, maybe he does feel the same way you do? That perhaps it wasn’t all so black and white. Rather instead, something far more complex and out of your vicinity. 

Another sigh fell from your lips at the thoughts that you continued to mull over. Leaning against the tree behind you, when suddenly the importance of this place hit you.

It was the first time you had witnessed Lo’ak, all alone.

 

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ˳೫

ˏˋ °•*⁀➷ No parents nearby were scouring his every move, siblings lingering to tease him and oddly make him feel even more like an outcast. Thank Eywa too, for there were no bullies there. 

It was just him and you now.

Y/n could tell he was dealing with utter turmoil, so you had adjusted your hold on the basket full of materials weighing heavily in your arms. Oddly enough it was filled with things to weave even more baskets, this time of varying sizes with colour in them. You wanted them to look more pretty, and eye-catching. 

She watched as his hands that were dug into the sand, moved to scribble whatever his heart had desired to draw. They came to a still, as your presence drew itself closer to his. 

Lo’ak was convinced you’d ignore him out of shameless disgust, just like everyone else does in this clan, and walk by without a word. But all you had given him was that smile, and he knew from then on your soul was too gentle for this cursed world.

You tilted your basket to him, showing the contents inside of it. “Would you like to learn how to make the best baskets in all of Metkayina?” She peered down at him, with such tender luminous eyes. 

How could he say no to that?

His mind was astray, and he didn’t really know how you knew that he needed a distraction. 

But with a nod of his head, as he straightened his posture, you let out a quiet noise - something akin to a cheer. Making yourself comfortable in front of him as you sat down, you took everything out and laid it on the sand with such care. 

There, he tuned in to another lesson. 

The whole time he pretended he didn’t know anything, Neytiri totally didn’t teach him how to weave or anything at a young age, not at all! He had good reasoning to do so because your voice sounded and felt so saccharine and cozy. It had reminded him of the fruits back at home.

Lo’ak also couldn’t help but admire how your worry lines would become evident and scrunch up when he’d make a little rookie mistake. Ever patient as you are, you’d glide your hand over his and ease him over the instructions once again.

For a boy who complained so much, not a peep came from his mouth as he learned from you. 

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ˳೫

A strange sense of deja vu washed over Lo’ak as he witnessed you leaning against an all too familiar tree. Y/n was mapping out the contents of her mind into the grains of sand closest to her. 

He’d been nestled in his own head the whole day, trying to understand the situation he had desperately wondered if he should pluck himself out of.

Lo’ak wondered then, had you admired him just as much as he was in this very moment? 

Taking a deep breath, he then stalked over to you.

The swooshing of the sand moving abruptly caught your attention, making Y/’s eyes dart up.

You call for Lo’ak, and it melts him to the core. He always loves the unintentional dip in your tone whenever you’d pronounce the last part of his name.

He didn’t know what burned in him then, but he felt it was now or never.

As he grabbed your arms and dragged you up, Y/n could only stumble into his chest with a faint “oomph”. The Sully boy leaned back, hands drastically moving to smooth your hair back which had fluttered everywhere due to his abrupt actions. 

He gazes at you then, unpacking everything that made you who you are for the hell of it. For the reason that he’s afraid. He’ll wither in tremendous sorrow if he doesn’t get some form of confirmation from you.

Lo’ak cannot keep playing himself with the what-ifs, he needed to hear what now.

"Would you acknowledge my feelings for you if I kissed you right now? You can't seem to take a damn hint, Y/n," Lo’ak uttered with a voice mellowed in affection. 

Her mouth opened, then closed, repeat. Gaping, reminiscent of the fish in the ocean a few steps away from both of them. With watchful eyes he saw as you suck your teeth in, nibbling nervously on your bottom lip.

Y/n hesitates, cautious but unable to fight against it. Your hands seek and grip his shoulders. A force so soft, so kind, so you. Lo’ak exhaled. 

“Your feelings for me?” Y/n croaked, sheer shock displayed on her features.

He could only laugh and shake his head in utter disbelief, his braids almost covering the eyes you worshipped upon. Oh my God, you truly are that clueless. 

Lo’ak looked at your hands that splayed on his shoulders, before tilting back up to peer down at you.

“My feelings for you… they are all-consuming. You surround me, like the tides of this very ocean,” He points out to the vast sea to the side of you two.

He continues, “and it hurts. I am in pain because I feel like I am drowning in it. And you aren’t there. I dream of you, I think of you, I act like! Like my brother for you. You do not witness my loss of breath, my all that I give! For, you.” 

He specifically targeted the fullness of his passion and annunciated in the last two words, hoping his point had finally gotten across to you. His face paints an exasperated expression, wounding you deeply. 

Your brain is as much of a mess as the fishing nets you and Kiri had tried to untangle this morning. The clarity that leaches onto you feels all too antagonizing. Y’n tries to reason, but he shakes his head again. Putting his hand over yours that still weighs on his shoulder. 

As if the entire weight of an Ikran pressed into him. It was daunting and petrifying. 

Treacherous at the seams. 

He gulps and lets the gates flood. “I know you are not dumb, far from it. Your mind is so fucking bright, that even I still get surprised by how you handle even the most mundane things. Even up to now, even if I’ve observed you hurdle through your daily activities constantly.” 

Y/n whispers his name again, lips pulled to a frown and Lo’ak wants the sand beneath him to swallow him whole. But he must know.

“I fear you are clueless though. Do you not see or feel how I do?” He voices his prior thoughts.

The nail to the coffin.

He had never sounded so desperate before. Lo’ak had always been a spitfire of sorts, and sure he had his moments. Although this time he was pleading, yearning, and aching. 

Somehow like a miracle, it was directed your way only.

You twist your head, gulping to try to muster up a source of confidence and understanding to power past this.

This is Lo’ak, the boy who barely left your side since finding each other. Your Lo’ak who you knew so well. Always there for him through thick and thin. The youngest son who looked up to his brother so fiercely, with a dad he could never seem to understand.

She looks up at him, properly and with conviction. “I do see, I do feel. I do, all for you,” Y/n begs to be heard, and his irises are blown.

He too never heard you so desperate.

Y/n embraces all that Lo’ak is, just like the very first time she laid her azure eyes on his. 

“I guess, I am just incapable of seeing the signs. I do not have any experience in this…area of things.” You shyly whisper at the end, cheeks flaming at what you hinted at.

Lo’aks eyebrows furrow. He’s trying to obtain some understanding as his thumb grazes the apple of your cheek before cupping the side of your face.

You see him. You really do.

“I am usually only sought out for my intelligence, not of anything else. Lo’ak, no one has ever seen me in the light you seem to.” Her eyes look wistful as if she’s been transferred back to past events.

For good measure, you add on, grumbling. “My parents aren’t excellent examples to learn from either.”

Lo’ak croons, “I’m sorry.”

You grin up at him, and this time something shined. Lo’ak did not know if it was his heart or the slight difference in your expression, but there was something new mingling in the air.

His thoughts become fried as you tilt your head further up, balancing on the tip of your toes. Lo’aks hand almost slips from its grasp on your face. However, now you’re really close. Lips hovering over his as you coo, “Please accept this apology for making you so infuriated.”

Not only did you whisk his thoughts away, but his very breath too. You kiss him, this time being the first one to take action. It almost ceases the boy's heart altogether, you took this leap for him. For the future of you both.

As you retract from him, a pleading whine fell from the boy in front of you as he raced to chase your lips.

Y/n giggles at his actions, admiring the boy in front of her.

By Eywa, you were indeed a clueless fool.

The eyes who looked into yours now were so unlatched, expressing everything else he couldn’t say in words. That was the same gaze he gave you the very first time you’d see each other at the start of the day, and all throughout until the end. Awaiting to repeat itself the following day.

“I’ll only accept your apology after you let me have a few more kisses.” He interrupts your intrusive thoughts, and you could only laugh bashfully as you sink back into the entirety of him.

“Alright, Lo’ak. Whatever you say goes, it seems.” You mutter against his lips, and as you’re brought into a second kiss. His hand settles at the back of your head, guiding you. 

Y/n can’t help but think, she wouldn’t mind learning about the ways of love with him. Whether that was through actions or words. Even a simple passing look. 

Just like he listened and learned your ways of the Metkayina clan. You’d do the same because now you see. Now you can finally observe what makes Lo’ak so incredible. 

It’s how he bestowed love so boundlessly.

𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 ━━━ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑

⤷ feedback and reblogs are always much appreciated ! feel free to ask through my inbox if you would like to join my taglist. ♡

[rin-fukuroi]

𝐏𝐨𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 [𝐋𝐮𝐨𝐜𝐡𝐚]

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Part 2

Fandom: Honkai: Star Rail

Pairings: uncle!Luocha x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, modern AU, sexual tension, a hint of incest.

▶• ılıılıılıılıılıılı. Ado - Tot Musica

Note: English is not my native language, so I apologize if there are errors in the text qq

— Behave yourself and obey your uncle!

— You should thank him that we don't have to spend money on your check-ups!

You were never very healthy as a child, so you heard this from your mother quite often. Perhaps it must have been a shame that your parents were economising on your health, but you never minded your uncle's company. Luocha is a rather nice man, who accompanied you on your journey to adulthood from an early age, even when he was still just a medical student himself, but still found time to look after you.

Now you remember those times with some warmth, but also with a heavy weight on your heart. The pressure your parents put on you was alleviated by Luocha's care and kindness, but somehow you still felt indebted to your uncle. He helps you for free, sometimes even giving you the medicine you need without asking for anything in return. Looking at the relationships in the families of your friends and acquaintances, you began to come to the conclusion that mutual help among relatives — this is quite normal, but still couldn't help but feel gratitude and desire to do something for Luocha when you get on your feet.

And now you are grown up, independent, and your health problems don't bother you too much, which, of course, is the merit of a marvellous doctor, your uncle, whom you decided to visit after a couple of years, during which you have not seen him once. You feel guilty, because he must have been worried about you, but you decide to call him. Luocha's voice sounded as happy and gentle as it always did when he spoke to you, and he was happy to meet you. You'd never been to his house before, mostly meeting your uncle at his workplace, but this time he'd insisted that you drop by so he could make sure you were okay.

That's so nice of him.

— Oh, Y/N, come in, — Luocha smiles softly, inviting you in.

You catch yourself stopping to stare at his long straw hair falling down over his black turtleneck. He's always worn his hair long, but now it seems to be even shinier and sleeker. As a child you wondered what they felt like, but somehow it felt awkward to just touch him without asking.

— I hope I'm not distracting you too much. You'd probably like to rest after your shift at the hospital, — you chuckled awkwardly, letting Luocha take your coat off.

— If it's about seeing my favourite niece, how can that distract me? — as soon as your uncle leaves your coat on the coat rack, he immediately returns to you, wrapping his palms around your waist and pulling you to him for a hug.

You're used to Luocha being quite tactile, though usually his touching you was in a different setting, but you don't pay it much mind, smiling and lifting up on your toes to wrap your arms around the man's neck.

— It's been so long, you've grown so much, — the blond man pulls back to get a better look at you from his height. The fact that his arms are still around your waist makes you slightly uncomfortable, and you look away awkwardly, letting go of your uncle's neck. As if reading your thoughts, Luocha lets you go, instead resting his palm on your back, guiding you towards the living room. — Come, I'll make some tea for us.

Your uncle's house is quite cosy. The light-coloured walls and minimalist interior make it feel comfortable and even inexplicably warm. It's like what you feel when you're next to Luocha himself. You sit down carefully on the soft couch opposite the coffee table, turning your head and glancing around the bookcases. You never even knew he was into reading, though thinking about it now, it seems logical. Probably all those books on medicine.

From the direction of the kitchen comes the sound of Luocha stirring sugar in mugs before you catch his footsteps approaching you from behind.

— Well, tell me, what have you been up to all these years? — your uncle places a saucer in front of you, followed by a mug of steaming brew, the herbal aroma of which has been wafting to you since he entered the room. Luocha places the second mug not far from yours and sits down next to you.

— Oh, I… I had a bit of a falling out with my mother, so I just moved away from her.

— That's how, — the smile fades from the blond man's lips as he reaches for his mug, taking a small sip. — Your mother has always been a difficult person. Truth be told, I'd move away from her myself as soon as possible if I were you.

Your eyes round slightly as you turn your head briefly to look at your uncle, whose lips stretch back into an awkward smile.

— Oh, I'm sorry, it must be weird to say something like that about my own sister?

— N-no, no, no, she's really awful… — you giggle nervously before taking a sip from your mug. The fresh minty notes tingle your receptors, and it's as if you're transported back to years ago, when Luocha used to make the exact same tea for you earlier, when you stayed at the hospital for lunch after your appointments.

Luocha grins awkwardly.

— How is your health?

— Much better already. I had a good doctor!

The man presses his palm to his chest, bowing his head slightly in a gesture of thanks.

— Glad to hear it. But still, will you let me examine you? — you look away from Luocha, setting the cup carefully on the table. — I want to make sure your health really isn't in any danger, — the blond man continues, squeezing your shoulder gently.

— It's really okay, uncle, you don't have to be…

— I'm just worried about you, Y/N, — the man's long fingers gently massage your skin through the fabric of your clothes. — Oh, are you embarrassed that we're not in a hospital? I can put on a dressing gown if it makes you feel more comfortable.

— N-no! It's fine, — you smile crookedly, your shoulder flinching involuntarily as you rise from your spot on the couch.

Luocha might be right. You've never been to his house, so you've generally never given much thought to the fact that he's a man, seeing him solely as a doctor, but now you're somehow so uncomfortable unbuttoning your shirt buttons in front of him. The blood rushes to your cheeks, tingling your skin, and you turn away slightly from the gaze of your uncle, who continues to sit on the couch, waiting. You don't understand why he always asked you to take off your clothes, since your illness hardly shows up outwardly, but Luocha insisted every time he did that your skin could tell you something about your condition, so you preferred not to argue, just following his instructions as your mother had told you to. Your shirt slips off your shoulders, and you fold the thing neatly on the armrest of the couch, meeting Luocha's gaze again, as if silently asking if you should continue, but he only remains silent and fades into his classic unreadable smile. So it is necessary.

You grudgingly unbutton your jeans, slowly pulling the tight fabric down your legs, sending them to the shirt on the couch. You've never experienced something like this before. Stripping down to your underwear in front of a man… You've always been too busy with your studies and more pressing issues to even think about relationships, so this time is the first time in your life you've ever allowed yourself something like this. The only thing that calms your excitement a little is the fact that you've done this before, completely disregarding the fact that your uncle is a man. So you should continue to turn a blind eye to it now.

— Hm-m, — Luocha stands up from the couch, towering over you before placing her palms on your shoulders, slowly sliding down. — Your skin is very soft, Y/N, — for some reason, your stomach clenches after those words, and your eyes move upwards anxiously, meeting your uncle's relaxed gaze. — That's already a good sign.

— I guess… — you answer quietly, feeling an uncomfortable shiver run down your spine as Luocha's hands move to your waist, squeezing your sides gently.

— You were so skinny the last time I saw you, and now look at you… — the man murmurs, groping your tense belly with his fingertips. — A healthy, rounded shape. That pleases me as your doctor.

— Huh, are you implying that I've gained weight?

— No, not at all. You've just grown so much, your body has changed. For example… — his large palms move up to your breasts, settling on the bottoms of your bra cups. — Your breasts have gotten bigger. May I…?

You blush, swallowing nervously, but somehow you nod anyway, unconsciously consenting to your uncle undoing the clasp of your bra, letting it fall carelessly to the floor beneath your feet. Your shoulders tightened reflexively as a chill ran under your skin, but you stopped yourself from shamefully covering your breasts with your hands, instead turning your head sideways. Luocha casts a brief glance at your embarrassed face, choosing to simply ignore it before returning his palms to your now naked breasts again.

A strange heat grips your body as your uncle's long, warm fingers gently grope the firm flesh. What's the matter? Why do you feel so uncomfortable? It's still your uncle, he just wants to help, he's worried about you, then why is that?

— Mm, lymph nodes are fine, — Luocha murmured thoughtfully, running his fingertips gently along the underside of your chest. — You really are all grown up now, Y/N, — the blond suddenly announces, cupping one of his hands around your chin, gently turning your head back to meet your gaze. — And such a beautiful one at that.

You just stare at your uncle, eyes wide, unable to utter a word because of the prickly lump lodged in the middle of your throat. His perpetually calm, velvet voice sounds so sickeningly sweet that you can almost feel the bile coming up your oesophagus.

— You're still a virgin, aren't you, Y/N? — golden long strands slip off Luocha's shoulder as he tilts his head to the side, squinting his lettuce eyes slightly.

— I… Why do you need to know that? — you ask in a shaky voice. He's so close. Why is he so close? You only now realise that your breasts are almost touching his belly, but your legs are so heavy, unable to move your body.

— Becoming sexually active can affect your body in many different ways. To be sure that your condition is stable, we need to understand which symptoms are related to your condition and which ones can be taken out of the equation, — your uncle replies calmly, running his palm down from your chest to your lower abdomen.

— I'll definitely see a gynaecologist when I have some free time, if necessary…

— Oh, that won't be necessary! I can do the exam myself.

It's so stuffy. Even when you still had your clothes on, you weren't as hot as you are now, with your uncle's fingertips clinging to the waistband of your knickers. For as long as you could remember, Luocha had always evoked nothing but silent admiration in you. There didn't seem to be a single thing in the whole world that your well-read and educated uncle didn't know about, ready to help you with any problem, but now it feels really wrong.

— You're so tense, Y/N, — Luocha whispers, running her other palm down from your chin to the curve of your neck. — All the stress built up from living with your mother must be making itself felt one way or another… It saddens me to the core. I don't want your condition to get worse again one day.

The lace fabric is gently pulled back before travelling lower down your thigh. No, no, no, no, no, no. This isn't right. Your lungs constrict and drops of sweat protrude on your forehead. You grit your teeth, biting your tongue painfully, and the pain seems to snap you out of your disgusting trance, allowing you to gather the resolve to grab Luocha's wrist.

— Stop it! — you shout hysterically, even to yourself. Your voice trembles as if you're about to cry.

Your eyes are wide open and shiny with tears, and your uncle freezes, just as you did, without another word. The silence that hangs between the two of you is so intense that you can almost feel it with your skin covered in unpleasant goosebumps. Your mind goes blank in the blink of an eye, and the rush of blood rushing into your ears makes Luocha's face spin before your eyes, but you pull yourself together, yanking your uncle's hand away sharply and away from his touch on your neck. It all happened so fast that you don't even notice that you've already hastily pulled your jeans back up your legs and carelessly slipped your shirt over your shoulders.

— Y/N, I'm sorry, did I do something to offend you? — Luocha asks worriedly, not daring to touch you again as you frantically try to slip your arms through your sleeves, not even bothering to put your bra on.

— I… I should go now… — is the only and last thing you muttered quietly, hastily buttoning a couple of buttons of your shirt down the middle.

Your uncle wanted to say something back to you, having already opened his lips, but closed them back as you hurriedly ran out into the corridor, frantically searching with your eyes where you left your shoes and where Luocha hung your coat.

For a few seconds Luocha just stands there in the living room, staring doomedly at his feet, until he suddenly decides to run after you when he hears you fiddling nervously with the lock of his door.

— Y/N, wait! — the blond shouts after you, making your hand freeze over the knob. — You're living alone now, aren't you?

For some reason, that question makes your stomach cramp up again, but you decide to answer.

— Yes.

Your uncle's lips stretch back into his usual charming smile.

— Then I'll be sure to come by sometime to check up on you. You won't mind, will you?

The disgusting memory of the last time Luocha touched you flashes through your mind again, and your hand reflexively presses the knob before you hurriedly disappear out the door, leaving your uncle's question unanswered.

«Surely you won't mind, Y/N… You just need time», — the blond thought to himself, sighing doomfully before returning to the living room once more.

The undrinkable tea is still on the table. But that wasn't the only reminder of you left in Luocha's house after you left. The sharp gaze of green eyes clung to your bra, which was still lying on the floor. The man rests a bent index finger against his lips for a moment, as if contemplating something, before he walks over to the abandoned item, gently lifting it from the wooden floorboards. Bringing the lacy black cloth up to his nose, your uncle could clearly smell your natural scent, tainted by the subtle fragrance of shower gel and perfume.

You were so excited running away from his house. Luocha hopes you won't notice you're missing for a while.

[bloodraynebeast]

Now that there’s some context to work with, let’s have some fun. I decided to switch it up and compile a list of what Romantic Tropes I could find that are the most fitting and evident for Yashiki / Mashita. You may recognise all of these from TV Tropes. Not safe from MAJOR SPOILERS of the main games and more below.

All Links: Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 <-

Updated AO3 Version <-

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Romantic Tropes -

1] Age-Gap Romance: Both are adults with Mashita ageing in his late twenties, meanwhile Yashiki is estimated to be within the mid thirties to mid forties range. This instantly becomes comical in the dynamic of their relationship as Mashita often takes the lead and berates the older man.

2] Anger Born Of Worry: This is practically Mashita on a regular basis with Yashiki whenever he feels he gets too emotionally involved in their spirit cases - alleviating the source of their pain, helping innocent people affected while dismissing the threat to his own life. Mashita’s first instinct when saving Yashiki as he falls from the building in Red Riding Hood, is to bark at him for being an idiot and press why he ignored his warnings, his orders to stay outside where it was safe. It becomes a pattern that Mashita makes irritated comments about Yashiki always getting into trouble and his lack of concern for his safety, especially for the sake of others. Whereas Yashiki can sometimes be mildly indignant, but he's normally unambiguous when he's worried. Plus he’s too thankful for any help Mashita gives.

3] Aw, Look! They Really Do Love Each Other: For all the times the two can bicker and disagree on their views and ideals - Mashita frequently pointing out his naivety and stating the living and the dead should stay separate, while Yashiki can’t turn a blind eye to the suffering of the dead and wants to help everyone involved - it doesn’t change how compatible they are in their relationship and how well they work as a team. Despite not entirely approving of the other’s methods, they understand. They both also care deeply about the other’s wellbeing, more than enough over their own.

4] Battle Couple: There is often build up to Mashita joining Yashiki in the investigations during the games and other media. In two separate instances with Red Riding Hood and Death Mark 2, and more which can be determinant, Yashiki and Mashita are made to partner up at the climax of a story. They are framed as a force to be reckoned with when they work together, giving the other support and are the type of pair to use guns on a spirit in a confrontation and have it be a success. Word about the two men have spread over the years in the field, as characters from NG mention them in previous cases they’ve closed. Yashiki and Mashita are implied to be inseparable in and out of work and not what the spirits can win against, according to Shou Nagashima.

5] Belligerent Sexual Tension: Noticeable during their more tender and teasing moments, when Mashita offers kind, supportive words and Yashiki reacts softly, or the two are quipping with each other. In other instances it's when the men are frustrated with one another, but Yashiki is shown to have a somewhat calming effect on Mashita’s stormy demeanour on several occasions. There’s also an exchange in the ending of Red Riding Hood where Mashita describes the teacher that was involved as thin, tall and the type popular with students, implying that he was attractive or had an attractive personality, glances at Yashiki before continuing that he wasn’t too unlike him. Given how the student Sayako felt towards the teacher and how Death Mark 2 proceeded with its narrative, could this have been a sly, cautious way of complimenting Yashiki?

6] Birds of a Feather: Yashiki and Mashita both lost someone very important to them that still weighs on them heavily, something they may have confided in each other about off-screen. Neither are particularly equipped for social situations, although in different ways and much prefer their own company. Both can be blunt in their honesty, their remarks and cannot take praise. They also share in appalling sleep schedules as their character art sprites show extreme dark circles under their eyes and more than likely neglect any sort of self care. They enjoy the simple pleasures of sitting in the quiet with a cup of coffee or enjoying a drink, and smoke in Mashita’s case, which is likely one of the reasons why Mashita would visit the Kujou Mansion so frequently. Yashiki and Mashita are not the best at dealing with children and also find themselves drawing blanks or not understanding the appeal when younger characters talk about something new or popular, although much more so on Yashiki’s end.

7] Defrosting Ice King: After meeting Yashiki, Mashita has certainly made some progress. It’s apparent the impact Yashiki has made on him and still retains those effects in the current timeline. Breaking down his character, Mashita does have a secretly good heart but Yashiki makes Mashita stop and consider a gentler, more empathetic approach to situations. In Kokkuri’s case in Death Mark 2, he even talks to the deceased himself much like Yashiki would. He’s also just more at ease and takes part in antics with him in and out of canon.

8] Fan-Preferred Couple: Evidently this. Considering the amount of created content and attention, a majority of the fandom supports Yashiki and Mashita as the main pairing. From the pairing’s popularity alone it is entirely possible if there were an official couple introduced, particularly with either character, they would still be the preference.

9] Fate Drives Us Together: If the Mark incident with Mary hadn’t occurred, or happened later down the line with even worse consequences, the two would likely have never met. Yashiki would have remained as Masamune Kujou and continued his isolation while devoting himself to his family’s obligations, or simply died. It is only through meeting Yashiki that Mashita survives. Otherwise he would’ve been another victim, someone else seen as collateral damage in Masamune’s eyes. In the epilogue of Death Mark after sealing away Mary, Yashiki and Mashita would reunite and continue to investigate spirit related cases together after Mashita returned to normalcy, starting a new career as a private investigator. What started as possibly one-offs soon became partnered work and how their relationship deepened. Years later following the events of Death Mark 2, Yashiki and Mashita would still continue to work together closely, as evident in NG. Mary’s albeit mocking words given her deception of Mashita’s fate being entwined with Yashiki’s comes to mind, and yet rings true.

10] Finishing Each Other's Sentences: Frequently in and out of their work. Yashiki and Mashita are often of one mind and can tell where each other’s thoughts are leading, finishing where the other tends to trail off.

11] I Got You a Drawer: The latest DLC for Death Mark 2, opened up a new aspect of their relationship. Mashita leaves his signature coat behind at Kujou Mansion, which Yashiki doesn’t appear to mind as it’s still hanging out in the open. It’s just accepted with the reason that Mashita must have forgotten about it and yet doesn’t jump to resolve that. It’s also worthy of note that he points out how an item left by Moe was without his permission, whereas he doesn’t linger at all on the fact Mashita left the trench coat behind without permission after however long it’s been there. It poses a question of what else Mashita may leave behind if he’s become so accustomed and comfortable at the mansion, and whether or not this was intentional. The likely answer is yes. But the reasons for why are more curious.

12] Inconvenient Attraction: Feels like Mashita for Yashiki whether it be sexual, romantic or platonic as the ex-detective was evidently drawn to Yashiki in some regard. Presumably Mashita has very few in his circle of people to care about and probably intended to keep it that way given what happened to his mentor, so things are suddenly more complicated when he’s needing to worry about a good natured man always managing to throw himself recklessly into danger. Some curse or spirit always trying to take his life. Enough so that Mashita is called in to help Yashiki as backup by characters like Yasuoka and Rose or goes in to help of his own will. It’s also ironic as someone formerly on the force still holding onto strict laws, having a close relationship with someone constantly breaking said laws - worse still, does so himself for Yashiki’s benefit. I wonder if Mashita places blame on Yashiki for that.

13] Implied Love Interest: This is more subjective, but the vague romantic tones as evidenced in this analysis are all very much implied. They have more attention and development, throughout canon material and alternate universes which we will explore later. There are even accounts from fans saying they thought Death Mark was partly a dating simulator, wholly due to Yashiki and Mashita’s chemistry. As a result, the game gained some reputation online as the “Yaoi Ghost Game”.

14] Like an Old Married Couple: Although both are still relatively young, their conversations sound like old men that have been married to each other for decades. One case being Yashiki growing offended at Mashita always grabbing the coffee he meticulously makes for him before he has a chance to add sugar, which he deems a crucial final touch. Giving away that Mashita does not approve of the sugar intake Yashiki indulges in. Others have Mashita taking a moment to tell him to stop putting everything and anything he finds into his bag, rebuking him for always getting into life threatening situations. Yashiki needing to almost apologise on Mashita’s behalf for his rudeness to Hiroo and other characters, saying he acts like that with everyone or that he didn’t mean what he said that way. Small moments like these are why they are commonly referred to as husbands in the community, which only suited more after Death Mark 2’s release with its marital themes.

15] Lonely Together: Both strike me as the types to often find themselves alone and being generally lonely people, especially Yashiki who’s heavily implied to have spent the majority of his past life in isolation, shutting himself away from people while his sister Saya handled that side of matters. Mashita more because his personality may be too off-putting and rude for others. And yet they are frequently found around each other.

16] Love Overrides the Law: Mashita has brazenly given Yashiki, a civilian with no prior experience, a gun twice for protection despite very strict firearm laws. He also lets Yashiki get away with a long list of misdemeanours, but points out that he keeps track of them. Understandably the exception was when Yashiki to his knowledge at the time confessed to the murder of Kinukawa in Death Mark 2, which Mashita threatened to handcuff him on the spot for if he could, but then suddenly added that it only applied to living beings. Throwing out a theory that the version Yashiki killed wasn’t real, which was later proven right.

17] One Head Taller: Not massive, but height difference is a popular one and as it stands, Yashiki (5’11”) has several centimetres over Mashita (5'8”) - almost another head taller - which fuels a lot of content and discussion. Mashita being the shorter, smaller framed man of the two with all his grumbling attitude and confidence comes off as oddly endearing.

18] Rescue Romance: It goes both ways. After Yashiki saved Mashita’s life during The Mark incident and beyond that, Mashita likely felt indebted to him. Likewise, Mashita returns the favour saving Yashiki’s life during Red Riding Hood, the Bad End Voice Drama; “The Black Demon’s End” and arguably in Death Mark 2. The CG of Mashita saving Yashiki in the DLC is definitely popular for a reason. Mashita in particular is known to go rushing in to save Yashiki, half the time with a gun in hand. Given the nature of their work, the two will probably spend the rest of their time saving each other from close calls, further cementing their trust and loyalty.

19] Ship Tease: Was hesitant to put this one, but at this point the developers are at least aware of the pairing’s existence. The most teasing moments of potential romantic feelings we’ve had so far that I’m aware of are evident in the Voice Dramas and livestream advice column skits, particularly one that had been fan translated where Moe asks if Mashita is “interested” in Yashiki. One could argue the games themselves have teasing based on several analyses, but it largely depends on the player’s perception.

20] Tough Love: Mashita is straight to the point and can seem insensitive at times with Yashiki as he’s shown not to coddle him. He has a protective streak, but not as much in the way that protects Yashiki’s feelings. However, Yashiki seems to somewhat acknowledge that it's what is necessary sometimes when he begins to spiral with guilt. While it’s true Mashita can act a lot softer on him than with the rest of the cast and does console him, he still throws the occasional harsh words at him. Yashiki’s sympathy and naivety can be very dangerous for everyone involved after all, if not careful.

21] Tsundere: Now this is the major one. The huge factor for this pairing. It’s very unanimous within the fandom and can be strongly supported. Almost everything points to Mashita being a tsundere from his long list of actions regarding Yashiki in my previous sections, speaking louder than words, because he has difficulty expressing his feelings. Complaining about things being a hassle when helping Yashiki when in the background he’s already been digging for information, or that he’s helping because it's a job and pays when it’s obvious to the players that he’s heavily concerned. Mashita is notorious for calling Yashiki an idiot when he’s worried as well as in normal conversations, and disgusting in response to Yashiki showing gratitude or care towards him. More than naught with a tut, which is common behaviour. Mashita is more open with Yashiki about what’s on his mind and about more personal matters. The evidence doesn’t stop there as a post on social media from one of the devs had Mashita on Pocky Day - a day about sharing love, happiness and appreciation - additionally his official birthday, comment that he’s definitely not going to the mansion today. But actually had intentions to do so. He’d already prepared to visit. Other instances include outside of canon in livestream Voice Drama skits, where the characters read out fan questions for OOPArts. One in particular includes Yashiki, Moe and Mashita, translated by Keru and uploaded by Marvelously Cheerful. After the session, Mashita admits he only came to the mansion to kill time after seeing Yashiki there, to which Moe asks in a seemingly teasing manner if that means Mashita is interested in him. He responds with a baffled “Huh?!” and tells her to cut it out, not exactly giving an answer. There are other skits with some equally interesting things going on, but are yet to be translated. Nevertheless these livestreams can all be found on the official Experience エクスペリエンス Youtube channel to listen to. More examples can be found but for the sake of keeping these short, let’s move on.

22] Undying Loyalty: To reference the “deep bond” in Mashita’s character file, the relationship Yashiki and Mashita have formed has grown to a degree of deep loyalty, and feels especially obvious on Mashita’s side due to his decisions throughout the main games. To name a few, staying behind to help Yashiki’s situation when he could have focused only on finding the missing information about his mentor, charging in to save Yashiki and getting himself cursed a second time in the process during Shimi-O and running after Yashiki into the love hotel alone when he enters back inside to face the spirit, choosing to risk his life over and over again for his sake in the present time. Meanwhile Yashiki displays quiet appreciation. How much Mashita means to him is mostly conveyed through internal monologues and he knows he can always trust Mashita and trust his intentions even if he doesn’t always like it at first. When apart, Yashiki keeps in contact with Mashita and updates him about the case he’s working on. And when he presumes Mashita to be dead, he tells him that he’ll finish The Departed’s case to the best of his ability because he knows that’s what Mashita would want. They never give up on each other.

23] You Are Better Than You Think You Are: This and dismissing a compliment blend together well here. Yashiki is a conscience-stricken man with low self-esteem and shadowed by the past, so his opinion of himself is very poor. Even before the reveal of his actions as Masamune Kujou. Also despite inventing himself as an entirely new person and Mashita repeatedly reminding him of his capabilities that would do some good - preventing more victims that Yashiki feels responsible for - he often feels doubt over the decisions he makes and questions his own resilience, especially when it leads to consequences that cost an innocent life. This leads to where in both games Mashita takes a moment to assure him in his own words that he’s doing fine, doing everything humanly possible and that he does in fact save people. These scenes are significant because Mashita only goes out of his way to comfort Yashiki like this. Meanwhile Yashiki expresses his affections and admiration towards Mashita in small gestures, which he almost always returns with a sardonic comment or pointed rejection. It’s often seen as a mask to hide how secretly appreciative Mashita is of Yashiki’s kindness and how much he’s valued. 

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There are likely more tropes that could hypothetically be applied to the pairing as of currently, but I couldn’t include every possible example without repeating earlier points. We have a smaller amount of material to work with, with our smaller series. Writing out all these tropes however, definitely showcases the amount of layers their relationship has and why it’s appealing to fans. Back to the usual plan for the next part looking at the various hints in CD Voice Drama’s, which may take more time. Thank you so much for reading!

[strawwritesfic]

Joel x Female!Amputee!Reader: (Don't) Hold Your Breath [Ch. 8]

Summary: You’ve made a lot of monumental mistakes in your life. Cutting your arm off isn’t even at the top of the list. Now you’re about to learn a lot of life lessons at the hands of your savior and her brute of a guardian–and they’re not about to let you learn them the easy way either.

Challenge: "#32 in His Rulebook" by Edible Heart Monster on Lunaescence Archives

Rating/Warnings/Tags: M (post-The Last of Us; excessive swearing; sexual references; violence against children; infected children; references to abortion; references to cannibalism; references to starvation; references to riots; implied domestic abuse; implied grooming; implied sexual relationship between an adult and a minor; death of a parent; violence; gore; blood; gun use; ableism; amputee!Reader; enemies to lovers; not canon compliant)

Pairings/Relationships: Joel/Female!Reader; Tommy/Maria; Reader/Male!OC; Ellie & Reader; Ellie & Joel; Ellie & Maria & Tommy

Tag List: @imaginesfire

Master List (with important note!)

Rule #8: The villagers are always a little stupid. Try not to contract that.

Not very many days passed after that before Tommy called you—again—to the room he called all the troublemakers to. When you arrived, he wasn’t there yet. Only his beat-up desk and a couple of chairs that had clearly seen better days sat in the dim sunbeams shooting through the window. One of the men that had brought you there shut the door behind you, but you didn’t relax. Doubtless he was still out there, standing guard to make sure you didn’t leave.

You didn’t bother to try. Instead, you walked a small circuit around the chairs and desk. Your worn boots hardly made any noise in the dusty carpet. Tommy probably could have used a better place for doling out discipline, but it was a hard line to walk, being in charge of something democratic like Jackson was supposed to be. Probably the only reason he and Maria kept their seats was because, outside of assigning tasks and keeping an eye on relationships, they did the same jobs as everyone else, in the same way as everyone else. Sometimes they even forwent meals when supplies got low, so other people could eat.

The knob on the door across the way twisted, and you leaped away from the desk as though it had shot up sparks. Whatever paperwork was there, it was none of your business, and you didn’t want Tommy thinking you thought it was. Fortunately, it was not Tommy that stepped into the office, but Joel.

His brown eyes narrowed as he spotted you standing there, then found the carpet. Watching him, you were pretty sure he mouthed some four-letter-word upon finding you, but whatever concerns he had, Joel did not voice them to you. After a moment of awkward standing, you hastily took the stuffed green seat nearby and tried to ignore him.

Still Tommy did not show up. Though you weren’t nervous exactly, being left alone with Joel certainly wasn’t comfortable, a feeling that only intensified when you heard him start to make his way toward you. A second later, and Joel collapsed into the opposite seat.

A bead of sweat rolled from your temple and dripped off your jaw onto your hand. No air conditioner ran through the room. You felt as though you’d been called to the principal’s office; somehow, that memory made you feel worse. You twisted in your seat to look at Joel.

“What’re you in for?” you asked, perhaps hoping to alleviate some of the tension. His eyes darted toward you again, then away; the only answer you received was a shifting of his arms.

If there’d been a clock, you’d have been able to count off the seconds, minutes, perhaps even hours that it took Tommy to get there. As it was, when the door behind you opened a second time, the light streaming into the room hadn’t change at all. Both you and Joel twisted around to see Tommy walking inside. He smiled when he saw the two of you.

“Good,” said Tommy. “You’re both here. Won’t have to wait to get things started.”

Joel got to his feet before Tommy even made it to the chair behind the desk. “Tommy, now what is all this about?” he demanded. “I was in the middle of something, and then Larry just up and escorts me, gun drawn.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” Tommy sat down and motioned for Joel to do the same. He did—but only reluctantly. “Larry can get a little trigger-happy.”

“If this is because you think I’m trying to take over—”

“I don’t,” Tommy cut in firmly. “You’ve been behaving yourself since we had that little discussion, and I appreciate that.”

Joel watched Tommy. You thought he might have been looking for any traces of lying, but you couldn’t spot any, and the next second, Joel was nodding, although he still looked displeased. “Then what is this all about?”

Tommy did not look as though he wanted to get into things so quickly. Unfortunately for him, he’d been the one to point out no one present had to wait. You pursed your lips as you watched him fidget with one of the busted pens on the desk. After a minute or so of stalling, he tossed the object away and folded his fingers in front of his face.

“I have a…proposition for you,” he said. “Well, mostly for Joel.”

Joel rolled his shoulders and tossed you an appraising look. “Then what’s she doing here?”

“Yeah, because I just decided to eavesdrop in plain sight, asshole,” you said angrily.

Tommy rolled his eyes.

Joel shifted so that he could look more properly at you. “Could’ve just walked in. ‘S not like Tommy is going to kick you out.”

“I’d kick her out if I didn’t want her to hear,” Tommy sighed. “Don’t make me take back my appreciation from earlier. She was invited, same as you.”

“With more guns, thanks a lot.” You crossed your arm and stump over your chest and lifted your chin as you gazed at Joel. Tommy did not even have the grace to look ashamed of himself. “You try killing a woman in the kitchen, I’ve got to take security measures. Besides, Ellie is busy.”

“Doing what?”

“Doing your job.”

That was enough to silence you. You didn’t blush and you didn’t look away from Tommy, but you decided not to respond.

Then it was Joel’s turn to roll his eyes. “Is that what this is about?”

“In a manner of speaking. The proposition I’ve got for you concerns [Name]. I don’t want to be offering anything she doesn’t want. She’s at least got some say in the decision.”

“You’re really too nice to have this job, Tommy.”

“Is that a threat?” Tommy asked, but without any heat.

The two brothers smiled at each other in such a fashion that made you half-believed Joel was going to start giving Tommy noogies across his desk. Even without that display of brotherly affection, you felt a roll of nausea in your stomach.

Soon they were back to being professional. “About the fungus detectors…”

“What about ‘em?” Joel wanted to know. He, too, crossed his arms over his chest. “Thought everybody decided they were unnecessary.”

That much you were aware of. Even having been banned from speaking or voting at the meeting held two days after your “welcome” to Jackson, people talked. Well, Ellie talked. You couldn’t really tell what she thought about the affair, but she certainly hadn’t shut up about it. As you watched, Tommy drew one hand down his face.

“They don’t always know what’s best for ‘em.”

One of Joel’s large hands lifted to his ear. “What’s that? Don’t think I caught that admission of being wrong.”

“As if you’re one to talk,” Tommy grumped, but then he sighed and slumped in his hard wooden seat. “Look, you and [Name] were right, and so was Charles—not that I regret kicking the bastard out, after what he said ‘bout Maria and Ellie.”

Joel snorted his approval. This seemed to give Tommy heart. The most you could do was sullenly sit there, thinking longingly of dinner. You hated being out of the loop, but Joel was in close enough proximity that you didn’t want to rock the boat by saying something snide. More black eyes were not what the doctor ordered.

“Anyway,” said Tommy. “We need some. At least two.”

“That’s no small order.”

“You and Ellie are the best scavengers we’ve got—”

Tommy broke away to look at you. Your sound of scorn must have been louder than you’d planned to make it, because his lips pressed down in that strange way they had on the rare occasions that Tommy deigned to show his aggravation.

“Problem, [Name]?”

“Not for me, exactly,” you said with a smirk. Tommy’s eyes narrowed. “You do realize the only places you’re going to get those are Quarantine Zones? If that. They’ll have been looted, too. You can’t expect an old man and his daughter to slaughter enough hunters to chance upon a scanner.”

“Joel?”

“I wouldn’t say it’s impossible. Ellie did a good job clearing out that camp of cannibals on her own last winter without my help.” Your fingers whitened around your upper arm. “With my help,” Joel finished, “I’d say we could.”

“You’re a cocky son of a bitch,” you said, hoping the slight tremor in your voice would go unnoticed. As far as you could tell, it had. “Even if you do happen upon one, they’ll probably be dead. Where are you going to find the batteries?”

“We’ve probably got a box stashed somewhere in storage,” said Tommy. “I’d rather not go the route of slaughter, though. Could you and Ellie get into a Quarantine Zone?”

“Maybe,” Joel said, though his tensed shoulders said the idea didn’t please him. “There’ll be some group that’s holed up in there, though. If it’s Pittsburgh again—”

“Cut and run. You have my permission.”

“And the scanners?”

“We’ll figure out a way to keep them from Ellie.”

After another long pause, Joel nodded and fingered the strap on his bag. Like always, all his weaponry was crammed in it, or at least what you assumed was all his weaponry. You’d never seen him with less. Before Joel could stand, however, he paused.

“What’s this got to do with her?”

A part of you wanted to snap at him that her had a name. Then it occurred to you that you didn’t give a damn what Joel called you one way or the other. Sometimes you forgot that you were supposed to hate his guts, but never for long. You pulled a face at him until Tommy said:

“Could you still get into a Quarantine Zone with [Name]?”

The sudden tension in the air seemed as cold and brittle as ice. You sucked in a breath before both you and Joel burst out “What?” at the exact same time. The look he threw you was enough to indicate he did not believe you capable of asking such a fucking stupid question. He had no time to say as much, though. Tommy quickly jumped in:

“I think it would be good for you to get out, [Name],”

“Like, out out?” As much as you whined and moaned and complained about being in Jackson, being dumped out in the middle of nowhere wasn’t exactly the best plan either. Your heartbeat grew wilder as you thought of all the things that could happen to a one-armed fuck-up in the middle of a forest these days.

“Like, out out?” Joel echoed. He sounded much more satisfied at the idea.

Your fear broke apart on your anger. “Fuck you!”

“Pick a night,” he snarled.

“I wouldn’t do you if you paid me and money was still worth something!”

“You’re not even worth the paper it’s printed on!”

“Shut up!” Tommy shouted. Startled by his sudden frustration, you fell silent. “Both of you,” he added to Joel.

Joel pressed his mouth shut as tightly as he could, but he continued to glare in your direction. Your chest rose and fell rapidly with the combination of anxiety and temper rushing through your veins. Then Joel inhaled sharply.

“If you expect me to go out there to get you those scanners,” he said in a voice as quiet as the grave, “then you’re expecting me to do something more dangerous than usual. Now you want me to add her to the list of threats? Do you want Ellie to die, Tommy?”

“No,” Tommy said, just as calmly as if nothing had ever happened. “I think Ellie can handle it.”

“She put you up this, didn’t she?”

“If you mean it was entirely her idea to begin with.”

The look Joel shot Tommy would have boiled a lesser man. “The answer is no, Tommy. And I’ll tell Ellie that myself.”

“What do you think, [Name]?” Tommy asked you. “You’ve already proven that you can’t handle any of the other jobs we get you. Wandering is in your blood, seems like. Now, I know you and Joel don’t get along, but you seem to do fine with Ellie, and she’s willing to look after you, get you settled into working with your arm the way it is.”

“Don’t I get a say in this?” Joel demanded.

“Not really,” Tommy answered mildly. “‘Course, you can tell Ellie no, but I can’t imagine that’ll slow her down none. She’ll just get her way through different means, and they might not be means you like.”

“You ain’t her father.”

“Are you finally claiming that you are?”

Joel said nothing.

“Look, Joel, I’ve thought this through. I know that [Name] won’t exactly help, at least not at first. But that’s exactly why you need her. The vote to get these damn things didn’t go through. If I announce that we’re doing it anyway, we’re going to have a riot.”

“And why should I care?” asked Joel.

“Because Ellie might get hurt.”

“Wait,” you said. “You’re taking me because no one would think that I’d get to go on any mission this dangerous? I’m a fucking distraction?’

“The locals are always a little stupid. Try not to contract that,” Joel said, as an aside to you that had you snorting.

Tommy lifted his eyes toward the ceiling, but not without the ends of lips curling almost imperceptibly upward as well. “I’m not sayin’ you two have to get along. I’m just asking for your cooperation. That’s all.”

“And if I shoot her?”

“Ellie’ll tell me. Hell, she might even disown you.”

“Over [Name]?”

“You know how Ellie gets with her little projects.”

“Now I’m a project,” you said with an edge of annoyance on your voice. “Fantastic.”

“Hey, it’s more than you’ve been anywhere else,” Joel said, then looked back at Tommy. “Fine. We’ll try. But if I don’t think we’re going to make it, I’m dumping her ass back here, no questions asked, and,” Joel twisted toward you, “you put Ellie in any danger, any danger at all, you’re a dead woman.”

In answer, Tommy gestured at the space between you and Joel’s chairs. “Shake on it,” he said.

Hesitantly, you lifted your good arm. Joel took it; Tommy beamed. You could feel no such optimism. In Joel’s fingers were strength that told you if you fucked up—if you just thought about fucking up—you’d be dead.

And it wouldn’t be a pleasant death, either.

[hapan-in-exile]

Volume 2 - Bonus Post: Nothing Breaks Like a Heart [M]

Another installment in this ongoing serialized fanfic

A/N: this is a bonus post from Mando's POV

This episode takes place directly after the events of Volume 2 - Post 8: Making the Bed.

Genre: Mandalorian x Fem! Reader

Rating: Explicit - smut, language, 18+ MINORS DNI *NSFW*

_____________________________________

The Mandalorian replayed the scene over and over again in his mind. 

Her face flushed with desire, her lips parting as she gasped and panted. She looked up at him with heavy-lidded eyes through thick, dark lashes, grinding against his hand, riding his hips. Then, a flash of confusion. The hurt. And the retreat into a mask of feigned indifference. 

And fuck if that didn't make him feel, if possible, worse. To see how quickly she regained her calm. How she'd suppressed her emotions just to ease the tension and alleviate his guilt. As if the pain he'd caused her was an imposition. As though he deserved that generosity. 

But he’d seen the unmistakable shock of anguish in her eyes. It was like a knife in his ribs. He wished she was the kind of woman who would stab him. That’s what he deserved. Why did her compassion make him so angry?

Because you’re an asshole, he reminded himself. She deserves better.

He’d managed to drive out the memory in the hunt that followed, focusing on his target. Yet after scaling seven stories of this residential tower, waiting for the charges to trip and detonate…if he let his mind wander for even an instant, he saw the shift in those luminous violet eyes. 

It was desire, lust—fuck, maybe even love?—then heartbreak. He couldn’t stop seeing it. The memory laid him open like a lash, cutting deeper every time.

Maker! When had he fallen so hard for her? 

No, that was a stupid question. The Mandalorian fell the moment he wound up on her operating table and realized the gorgeous woman he’d seen in passing was also kind. And courageous. And funny. The way one minute, she held him down with surprising strength and comforted him the next. She didn’t flinch when he’d tried to intimidate her, and she didn’t hesitate when saving them, even though it meant sacrificing her hard-won freedom.  

No. The better question was, at what point had he lost the ability to contain his emotions?  

Once he locked onto his quarry, he never let anything interrupt the hunt. He’d never stopped before. But all it took was Nito’s voice over the com-link saying, “I think Thuli’s in danger,” and he turned his back on his enemy to run for her. That should have been the first warning sign.  

The second would have been the searing, white-hot rage that surged inside him when he’d come through the library window to see her with that nobleman. Her intricate braid was mussed and had been pulled out in places. Like maybe a man had run their fingers through it. And he felt more jealousy than he’d ever experienced in his life. 

He’d brushed it off, knowing she relied on touch to incapacitate her target, which meant—well, needing to touch them. But the intensity of his reaction caught him off guard. 

And that was another source of concern. Why was he always attracted to women who could kill him?

Unhealthy is a word that sprang to mind. Thuli clearly didn’t make a habit of using her power that way. She's a healer. She’d taken an oath not to harm others. In fact, it was really infuriating when she wouldn’t kill the people who so obviously deserved to die. 

She was so kind, sometimes it was easy to forget that she was among the most dangerous beings he’d ever encountered. But her little speech '…I could cut holes in you and seal them back up again, over and over, until you tell me what I want to know…'

It might have been a bluff, but it sure as hell had been convincing. The threat of violence was…there was no denying it, it was hot. It sent a jolt of arousal through him that ran directly to his cock. He never dreamed that Thuli had such stone-cold ruthlessness lurking inside her. 

It was impressive. It was effective. And it was hot.

Putting her in charge was either the best or worst decision he’d ever made. 

She said no one had trusted her for leadership? Well, fuck those fools. She’s a good leader. Who knew competency would be such a turn-on?

Then she’d saved his life. Yet again. For the dozenth?—Hell, he didn’t know how many fucking times. Had he actually lost count of the number of times she had saved him? 

Tonight, he at least had the opportunity to return the favor. And he had. Thank the gods, he had! It’s one hundred percent the reason he lost every shred of self-control, but what did that matter. She’s alive.

He carried her through the abandoned docking bay, letting Nito blast his way out in a firefight, leaving the palace behind because he couldn’t let her out of his arms. That’s when he should have known he had lost all control. 

Or when he begged her to wake up.

He should have walked away as soon as he knew she’d be okay. Instead, he wanted to sit beside her.

Touching her face with his bare hand. Fuck, it was a mistake to touch her. Not like he didn’t know how soft her skin would be, but…now he knew from experience.  

And when she’d placed his hand over her heart? When he realized he wasn’t alone, that what was between them…whatever it was, it went beyond lust. The hunger he felt for her, she felt it too. It was passion and longing. There had been tenderness. 

Had been tenderness, the Mandalorian reminded himself.

Now, there was polite indifference. 

It’s for the best. She deserves better. It was good that he’d stopped. He shouldn’t have let things go even as far as… 

She shivered and trembled as he dragged his fingertips across her skin. Her breasts full and soft in his hand, the feel of her pinched nipple under his palm. And when he finally slid his fingers down between her legs, she was so wet it made his cock throb with such force he nearly spent himself against his pant leg.

It was good that he’d stopped. Letting it happen at all was…

She moaned, gripping his neck and shoulders as she rocked against his hand, her nails biting through the thick canvas of his flight suit and into his skin. It was a pain so sweet that it bordered on pleasure.  

For fucksake, letting it happen at all, that was…he’d lost control. He hadn’t quite realized what was happening, only that he loved the sound of her breathy sighs, that her muscles clenching around his fingers were soft as the silk of her dress, that he could probably leverage this angle to stroke her through one climax into the next. 

So when she’d reached down between them for his belt, some part of his brain resisted. This wasn’t supposed to be about him. It had been about her and what he could do to keep her making those breathy little noises.

But, of course, this was about him, too. 

After all, he had been the one who pulled open her robe without permission, grabbed her hips, and ground his swollen cock against her thighs. Because if he had asked her permission first, he would have had the presence of mind to know what colossal mistake this was—one that she would regret. 

"What am I doing?"

It wasn't until he saw the shock rent across her face, as though he’d slapped her, that he realized he had spoken those words out loud.

Kad Ha'rangir, I am the lowliest piece of shit amongst your creations!

But...it was good that he’d stopped. Letting it happen at all was a mistake. It was selfish. She deserves better. Damnit! Knowing it was his fault didn’t change how much he hurt her. How was he going to make this—?

Beeeeow–click–click–click

Fucking finally! They’d opened the balcony door, triggering the charges.

Relief washed over him. He yearned for the silence inside his mind that came with fighting. He unholstered the blaster at his side. Nothing clears the head like being shot at.

_____________________________________

Back to Volume 2 - all posts

[toujokaname]

Game master / Episode 10

Author: Akira

Characters: Hiiro, HiMERU, Kohaku, Aira

"What it is ain't important; what's important is that the characters move in pursuit of its existence."

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[ Read on my site for a better viewing experience using Ois~su ♪ ]

Season: Winter

Location: Secluded Village

At the same time. A corner of Amagi Village, the starting point of the test of courage.

Hiiro: Now, let's go over the showdown details again.

It's the fourth match in Matrix, a test of courage.

HiMERU: Right. It's not overly intricate, though. It appears we're in for a literal test of courage.

Kohaku: It's my first time doin' somethin' like a test of courage. It's excitin'~♪

Aira: Kohakucchi can be so innocent sometimes... Cute.

But just the idea of trying out a test of courage in an eerie backward village gives me the creeps.

Hiiro: Again, I wish you'd stop calling someone's hometown a backward village.

As I keep repeating, my hometown is normal.

Well, but, I've been away from here for a while too. It wouldn't be surprising if the "common sense" has changed, so we shouldn't let our guard down, I guess?

Moreover, "this place" seems to be slightly different from the hometown I'm familiar with.

Kohaku: What the heck's with ya, sayin' something so scary. Looks like the test of courage's already in full swing, huh ♪

HiMERU: You seem strangely enthusiastic, Oukawa. Even though we've participated in similar projects before?

Since it's not the first time, is there really a need to get so worked up?

Kohaku: That was an escape game, this here's a test of courage. It's different.

HiMERU: Rather, Oukawa, weren't you supposed to be scared of ghosts? Why do you seem so excited?

Kohaku: It's fun to be scared, right? Ain't that what a test of courage's about?

Aira: I kinda get it... Even though it scares me, sometimes I watch horror movies or go into haunted houses at theme parks.

I always regret it afterward, though.

Hiiro: Well, enjoying fear and thrills in safe circumstances is a hobby I'm aware of.

When humans feel fear, their brains secrete chemicals to alleviate it. It seems some become dependent on the pleasure of easing that tension.

Aira: Hiro-kun, seriously, where do you pick up stuff like that from?

Hiiro: Mainly from books and the internet. For that matter, how come Aira doesn't know anything even though he lives in such an information-rich environment?

Aira: I-I know a lot of things? I'm literally the one always teaching Hiro-kun, who's eternally clueless?

Kohaku: Hehe. Rabu-han, seems you're pretty sassy when Hiiro-han's around.

In front of me, you're always such an innocent, good boy... But even so, this side of Rabu-han's rather captivatin', too ♪

Aira: Ugguh?! It's Hiro-kun's fault! You totally blew my cover in front of Kohakucchi?!

Hiiro: I won't take the blame for that, okay...?

HiMERU: Fufu. Well, let's get back to the topic, shall we? HiMERU apologizes for derailing the conversation, Hiiro-san.

Hiiro: Huh? It didn't seem like HiMERU-san was the one who derailed it... Oh well.

Umm. I don't have any experience with tests of courage either, so I can't speak as if I understand very much, but here goes.

Representatives from each of our units will follow a set route around the Amagi Village.

It seems that the final destination is a certain mansion deep inside the village.

While pressing seals on stamp cards placed along the route, we'll obtain a "treasure" at the final destination.

That's about the gist of it.

Aira: It sounds kinda mysterious, but what's this treasure?

Hiiro: Well... I think it's just a MacGuffin, so we don't have to worry too much about it.

Aira: M-Macffi...n? What's that? A new type of snack?

HiMERU: No one was talking about muffins.

Kohaku: It's a term used in filmmakin'. It refers to somethin' the characters are tryna achieve.

It's only a motive or goal to drive the characters. In practice, anythin' works.

It might be treasure, a briefcase brimmin' with cash, or even somethin' as abstract as a position of power.

What it is ain't important; what's important is that the characters move in pursuit of its existence.

[ ☆ ]

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[matan4il]

Let's talk about the "go give him a hug" we know eddie likes to use(?) chris as his proxy when saying/showing his feelings so when he was pushing chris to give buck a hug, that was definitely from him too! Also he didn't need to push or even say that right? Because chris would have definitely hug buck without prompt, he was even the one who wanted to talk to buck the most

Nonnie, you're so completely right about this! I wrote about it a bit in this ask reply, I mentioned how Eddie sometimes uses Chris as his proxy to express his own feelings for Buck. That's what he does in the 315 grocery shop argument, right? HE misses Buck, but he can't say it, he can't be that vulnerable, so he talks about Chris instead. And yes, you're also so right about the prompting, there is no need for it because Christopher loves Buck SO MUCH there was never any chance of him leaving that hospital room at the end without giving Buck a hug. No, Eddie prompts the hug and keeps his hand on Chris throughout it because this is how he deals when he doesn't feel like he can really let out the full force of his feelings. It's also why he jokes by making the buzz sounds, he NEEDS to alleviate some of the emotional tension or his emotions will burst right out of him, and he can't have that.

Thank you so much for this lovely ask, hope you have a great day! As always, here's my ask tag. xoxox

[iwritetopassthetime]

Favourite sleeping positions headcanon

Home to you masterlist

Summary: The favourite positions Bradley and Blossom have for when they sleep apart or together.

Warnings: mention of chronic back pain, fluff, elusion to smutty stuff

A/N: Feeling a little sad and overwhelmed today after a bad shift last night and then a talk with my mum this morning about my future which always makes me feel a little despondent so I'm delving back into writing about my favourite duo. By the way, don't throw shade at my mum, she is the loveliest person on this planet and just wants the best for me. Enjoy this quick headcanon though! 🌸

Blossom🌼: 

When sleeping alone, Blossom prefers to sleep on her front. It alleviates some of the tension in her back whenever it feels particularly sore and she wraps herself in a cozy little duvet burrito. Ever since getting together with Bradley though, she doesn’t really like sleeping on her own. Sometimes it brings bad memories and whenever she can’t do anything about it (Bradley being away or something) she buries her face in his pillow so the scent of pinewood can just lull her to sleep. 

When sleeping together, Blossom likes spooning. Especially the being the “little spoon” part. Bradley is just such a big boy (it’s cuffin’ season) and when he wraps himself around her from the back, she feels safe and warm. Even if the night starts of with a simple cuddling position with her wrapped around him, she’ll soon roll over just so he can chase after her and spoon her. And it’s proven that his body heat helps with her back pains. An added bonus is lazy morning sex in this position while the two are still kinda sleepy, but are desperate to feel each other close.  

Bradley🐔:

When sleeping apart, Bradley simply lays on his back and doesn’t move much. He’s used to sleeping on hard surfaces so that position is the least uncomfortable one. It used to be the simplest way for him to wake up and run through his morning routine ever since the Academy. He might put an arm under his head for support or bend one of his legs at the knee, but there’s not much else in terms of body positioning.  

When sleeping together, Bradley “tatas are a man’s best friend” Bradshaw likes sliding between Blossom’s legs and resting his head on her chest. Sure, he’ll spend most of the night spooning her (which he fucking loves) but whenever he can he’ll go for the boob pillow. Blossom swears she heard him purr once when she started lightly running her nails across his upper back, shoulders and head. Bradley denies it, but the violent crimson that spread through his face told a different story. In terms of morning sex, that position is perfect when he wants to go down on her and give her a proper good morning.

[cicidarkarts]

Joonam - Chapter 1: Stock Duty

Chapter List | Chapter 2 >

He had the cleanest hands of all the employees. Mostly because he obsessed over washing them with a gusto that would leave even the most ardent germophobes wincing. Idrees got a reminder of this whenever his boss sent him to restock shelves, where he had at least an hour to stare at his dried skin and gleaming fingernails. He kept them short so he wouldn't have to think about how they looked with dirt and blood caked under them. He refused offers of lotion from some of the women he worked with because, though it would alleviate the dryness, the sliminess of war-tainted mud made his skin crawl.

He lived in a big tourism area in India now. His workplace was just off the beaten path that they mostly saw locals. Sometimes, he saw a couple of the men he knew from his days in the Taliban; he always conveniently had to check the back whenever he noticed them. If the memories weren't enough to scare him off, their scowls toward him and shitty attitudes toward his female coworkers ensured his retreat. At least the back was quiet and the crappy lights were dim. He didn't have to stare at his hands that never seemed clean enough.

Cleaning duty was the easiest for him, because he had to wear threadbare gloves. The peace and quiet of the back shelves allowed the menial chores to take over the noise of his mind. Just wipe down the shelves and move the cans along, then go to the next shelf. Cans clinked together as he moved, sounds that ensured he could stay present, all while focusing fully on the steps of his task.

“Hey, Idrees,” said the shopkeep as she joined him. “Anush,” he greeted. “How are you doing after the rush?” He looked at her, focusing on that deep scar along her cheek, mustering up as much conviction as he could. “Fine.” “If you need to use my office again—” “I’m fine,” he said, a little snippier than he’d intended.

She went quiet. The perpetual scowl on her face hid a look of sympathy in her eyes Idrees had come to know unfortunately well. He gripped his mop handle and wiped the floors.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I wasn’t trying to—” “It’s okay, you’re gonna be mad at me anyway.” He gave her a defeated look, watching as she pushed down her hijab to slick back her hair once again. She said, “‘Cuz I’m about to put you on stock duty.”

A tension inflated in his chest—pushing against his lungs and sitting on his stomach. He released the building sigh.

“Wish I didn’t have to,” she continued. “But the girls have their hands full after that rush. And there’s a pretty big shipment that just came in, so I need someone on stock duty.”  “Yes, ma’am,” he capitulated.

Lead-legged and hands firmly by his sides, he trudged to the back and through its refrigerated chill. He needed to keep this job. It was just enough to afford the necessities and he couldn’t lose all of that now. Anush had been accommodating for many years and he owed her some amount of loyalty. She once let him bunker down in her office to sit in front of the fan, during a particularly busy shift no less. All the noise had made him think far too much…

As he ripped off his cleaning gloves, exposing his sweaty hands to frigid air, he thought too much once again; about how only the cool breeze and sounds of Anush’s office fan had stopped the racket from overtaking his mind. He grasped the faucet of the utility sink so hard that the skin beneath his nails changed color. He turned the faucet onto a warm setting and got to work scrubbing his hands.

Lathering up, he kept thinking about Anush’s office. She’d offered it to him several times, after once having witnessed him tear his nails across his palms as he cleansed them. The water had been steaming for so long that a thin layer of sweat had dotted his forehead. His stomach clenched when he remembered the look of horror on her stoic face upon seeing his raw, bleeding hands.

So he kept the sink low today, ensuring that Anush wouldn’t panic even if she saw him now. He didn’t want her wasting her sympathy on him anymore. She’d already done so much. Perhaps, though, that was because she didn't know the full story—just that he was forced to fight in a war. If she knew he'd once been a member of a totalitarian, misogynistic regime, he wondered if she'd treat him with less respect and sympathy.

His hand slammed against the faucet to turn it off; he needed to get it over with in as fast a motion as possible. If he didn’t, he feared he wouldn’t know when to stop. The cheap, rough paper towels felt like pumice on his dry skin.

He continued on to the warm air of the warehouse. The smell of fuel from the truck kept his mind off stock duty. Men called to each other, trying to coordinate stacking the dollies and sorting the boxes. A man in a thick, heavy turban dragged a few supplies in on a creaking three-legged dolly. He greeted Idrees with a smile and a wave.

“Anush got you working as stock boy again?” the man teased, scratching at his greyish beard. “Sadly.” He wiped the sweat off his forehead and sat heavily upon a box, which bent and deformed underneath him. “You'll have the back of a seventy year old before you retire.” “So will you.” “Ah, but you're too smart for all of this, eh, Idrees? This was the best I could do.” “That's not true, Nikan. You're not stupid.” “Hey!” called Nikan’s supervisor. “Less talking, more unloading!” “Right,” Nikan said to Idrees. “I'm so smart I'm slacking on the job while Mayur the Dictator is my supervisor.”

Idrees continued about his work as Nikan went to fetch more stock. He strained to transfer the crates onto the stocking cart, then wheeled them out into the store. He could've stayed to chat with Nikan all afternoon if it meant avoiding restock duty. But he did his rounds anyway. It kept him afloat in this city, as far away from his past as he could go.

Though he was content for the most part, he knew it wouldn’t last long. Not with stock duty. It made his mind wander far too much again—about his past and his present. The city offered cars that didn't plume smoke every time they sputtered to life, pristine buildings without graffiti or crumbling foundations, and people living free lives not confined to extremist dogma and laws. It had taken a while getting used to women uncovered, speaking and laughing loudly with their friends, and reading for leisure on dinner dates with themselves. The more he saw their happiness, the more his stomach churned when he remembered the women under Taliban rule.

He never wanted to go back to seeing a woman beaten all because she dared speak in the presence of one of his own. He never wanted to feel like he had to keep his mouth shut or suffer the same fate of the woman being whipped, child in her protective arms, because a Talib caught her in public without a mahram. He never—

His heart was pounding. He focused on a packet of food and read bits of the label. Microwaveable—both in Hindi and bold English letters. “Authentic”. Right. What kind of person who wanted to microwave their dinner cared about authenticity anyway? A tourist, most likely. At least it got him out of his thoughts.

“Excuse me?” someone asked.

He looked over to see a white woman. Not that it was a shock. Her accent gave it away.

“Can you help?” she asked, struggling a bit and overly-enunciating everything. “I speak English,” he said. Her tense posture relaxed instantly. “Oh, thank god. I was seriously gonna make a fool of myself if I kept trying. My Hindi is not up to par.”

Her cheeks turned pink and she readjusted her wire frame glasses. He noticed immediately that the entirety of her being screamed homebody. Tourists that came in often had their hair done and makeup applied (to varying degrees of success), and many had sun-kissed skin. But her unruly hair looked like it only ever saw a brush. Her strawberry blonde roots poked through the black dye, and a blemish here and slightly pocked cheek there showed she didn't spend time primping herself.

“Um, I have a list here.” She lifted up her half-empty hand basket. “Most of the things I’ve found. Could you show me where a few other things are?” “Yes, what do you need?”

She read off the first item on her list which was, funnily enough, the authentic tourist packet in his hand. He gave it to her. She cocked a brow at him until she read the packet. When the realization dawned on her and she giggled, the sound released several days worth of tension from his shoulders. They’d been up against his neck for so long, he’d only just remembered what it felt like to unclench his spine. After she quieted down, his muscles crept back up.

She put the packet in her cart, as well as another style of curry. Her next item was a little more complicated. The spices could be difficult to tell apart without knowing how to read Hindi so he took her to the spice aisle and helped her pick out the proper bottles.

“You trying to make curry?” he asked, putting some turmeric and garam masala in her basket. “Yeah, I am. Figured I'd try something authentic while I'm here.” “And that's why you bought a microwaveable alternative.” “That's for laziness.”

His lips twitched as he picked out a couple of items not on her list but would make her curry better—fenugreek, coriander.

She grinned. “Thank you, I'll give them a try!”

Her brown eyes lit up alongside her smile. She looked and dressed so young it was almost a shock to see her without her mama or baba. He supposed never seeing sunlight could do that to a person.

“Last thing,” she said, reading over her list. “I think I'm just dumb or blind but I can't find your jams.” “They are a bit hidden.”

He took her into the next aisle where an entire floor to top shelf selection of jams awaited her. She fiddled with her glasses, face turning red. 

“I thought you said it was hidden,” she said. “This is staring me right in the face. Look, this one is eye level and it says marmalade on it in English.”

She picked up a jar of orange marmalade just to glare at it. His lips twitched again, pulling back into a smile that felt so alien on his face. Another strange feeling crept up on him, too. Like a little bubble in his chest wanting so badly to break through. He cleared his throat and his lungs relaxed, banishing the oncoming laughter.

“Were you looking for a specific flavor?” he asked.  “Well, I like grape and cherry the most but I want to go outside my comfort zone. Is there something locals prefer?” “Ah, yes, so you can make authentic toast.” “Exactly!” “Can't go wrong with strawberry or apricot.” “Apricot sounds dope.” He paused and gave her a look. “And that's… good?” “Oh! Um, yeah. Sorry. Your English is really good so I just— am gonna shut up.” She looked away and ran a hand down her hair. “Apricot, please.”

He put an inexpensive but good jar of apricot marmalade in her basket. When their eyes met again, a little tickle of butterflies in his stomach hit him. She was cute, and the fact that she nearly made him break employee character several times was nothing short of a miracle. He wanted to ask her out to dinner, but… He frowned when he thought of how her pretty smile could be marred and dirtied by his filthy, disgusting hands.

“Thank you for the help,” she said. “My pleasure.” “Maybe I'll see you next week!” This made his heavy face lighten. “I hope so.”

They waved their goodbyes and she headed off to one of the cashiers. The cashier, a most annoyingly perceptive woman called Kanta, glanced to Idrees, back to the American, then to him again. She smirked and gave him a wink and a thumbs-up while the American unloaded her basket.

The American noticed Kanta’s gesture and turned back to look at him. Idrees’ face grew hot; hotter as he whipped around the corner and heard the faint sound of them giggling. Was that her flirting? He wasn’t sure. Maybe it was a pity giggle. 

He tried to continue his restocking duty as normal, which meant more thinking and overthinking. Particularly his interaction with that tourist. Despite her friendly attitude, Idrees knew that she was just being polite. He'd seen his fair share of attempted small talk. The weird part to him was how much he contributed. Typically—he pondered as he unloaded more of his cart—he would find nothing interesting to say back. Holding a conversation with that woman came out effortlessly, like he felt a strong need to keep up with her pace.

“Idrees!” called Anush from across the store. “Yeah?” he called back. “Got some baskets in the parking lot from the rush!” “On it.”

Anush had a way of doing that. She would put him on stock duty, then feel bad about putting him on stock duty and give him a different, menial job. Usually one that involved fresh air. Given the way his palms itched and crept, he welcomed the break.

Idrees headed to the sink and gave his hands another rough washing. His nails dug into his palms to relieve that horrible skittering across his flesh. The harder he pushed, the more he thought about that tourist. She smiled at him, thinking he was a kind and decent man. He couldn't bear the thought of having that smile warp into horror if she ever found out who he really was.

He slammed the faucet off once the steam spread a film of sweat across his upper lip. Then came those damn scratchy towels. Fresh air would indeed do him some good.

Outside in the hot Indian air, Idrees collected several of the store's black handcarts. Where all too many people left their cart out on the asphalt, that American tourist had put hers in the collection bin. He thought about her laugh again. How it made her pretty face light up. He could almost hear her voice. 

“No, really, it's just not a good time for me.”

He perked up his position hunched over a discarded basket. Okay, he really did hear her voice. 

“Ah, is just one night.” That sounded like a man. 

Idrees whirled around to see the tourist at the bus stop near the store. An older man loomed over her, looking at least twice her size. She gave him a grin he recognized instantly. That “I really wish you weren't talking to me but I'm being polite” grin his coworkers had used on many creepy men. The tourist took a step away but the man kept close. 

“I really don't think my boyfriend would like that much,” she said. “He doesn't have to know.” Idrees dropped the baskets and speed walked up to them. When he drew close enough, he demanded, “What's going on here?”

The American whipped around so fast it was a miracle she didn't drop her grocery bags. Her pleading eyes met his, twinkling as though she just found her salvation.

“Babe, you made it!” she said, hurrying up to him with an arm outstretched.

She tossed it around his shoulders and pulled him into a hug. He took her other bag and returned the one-armed embrace.

“I was so worried you wouldn’t get off work on time,” she said. “Sorry,” he apologized, trying to sound strong and confident. “I had to stay a little late. You know my boss is a hard-ass. Who’s your friend?” She stayed close to him as she faced the older man. “He was just talking with me, I don't really know him.”

The old man looked between her and Idrees. There were a few grey streaks in his beard but he was large and intimidating. Idrees stood his ground, staring him down, familiar muscles tensing and aching from sedentary use. The rush of memories that hit him made his palms creep and he dug his nails into them.

“Well,” said the man, taking a step back, “you guys have a good one.” “You, too,” said Idrees.

The man scurried off. Idrees kept his arm around her shoulders and he leaned closer to speak privately. 

“You okay?” “Yeah, thank you. That guy was so persistent, he was freaking me out. I told him I had a boyfriend and he just didn't care. Lucky you came along when you did.” “Need me to stay for a while?” She frowned. “I wouldn't want you to get in trouble at work.” He smiled to ease her sour face. “No, my boss is a very nice woman. She'll understand.”

They sat together on the bench. Idrees kept looking over to ensure the man wouldn’t return. 

“So” he said, trying to keep the subject off her encounter, “you're on vacation?” “It's my cousin's wedding. Her fiancée wanted to go back to his home country so I'm here for a few weeks helping to get everything ready. Can't really blame her for wanting to move here. My aunt is a bitch.” “And your boyfriend, is he back home or—?” “Oh, I don't have a boyfriend. I just said that to get that guy off my back. Didn't even work. To be fair, sometimes it doesn't work back home, either.” “Yes, it doesn’t work for my coworkers, either.” “Maybe if these guys tried a different method, women wouldn’t find them as creepy. I mean, that dude wasn’t even worth a date of microwavable curry.”

That finally broke him enough to let out a little chuckle with her. Maybe it was from the odd relief in his muscles, knowing that she didn’t have a boyfriend. Or maybe this liberation came from being out in the open air with no worries of coworkers teasing him. He could almost hear Kanta: “Idrees, I’ve never heard you laugh before!”. His laughter, so foreign in his ears, gave his heart a little jump.

As their mirth faded, she gazed down the street. “And there's my bus. Thanks again for having my back.” “It was no problem.”

He watched her gather her bags. He'd already failed at making a move before. But her earlier embrace still held onto him, warm and relaxing. Seeing her in the bright sun, how it illuminated her face and made her smile glow, loosened up his tongue.

“I'd like to see you again,” he said.

She paused. Her eyes scanned him and he became horribly aware all of his flaws: patchy mustache that he still couldn't grow out, rather long in the face, hair always a messy mop, unibrow that refused to go away even after plucking and shaving, and that chip in his tooth that made him want to hide his smile from her…

He might as well have been naked. He wanted to hide away and put his words back in his mouth. But then she smiled and bit her lip, and all of that withered away under the sun. Her cheeks turned that wonderful, cute shade of pink and she twirled a lock of her hair.

“Do you have a pen?” she asked.   He retrieved it from his vest pocket and she tore off a bit of her paper bag. She wrote something down on it then handed it to him. 

“Here's the number to my hotel room. You should call me sometime.”

She stood up and hailed the bus. When she turned to grab her bags, he wanted to say goodbye, but realized he didn't know her name.

“I'm Idrees,” he blurted out, feeling kind of stupid after he realized it was on his nametag (then stupider still when he remembered she couldn't read Hindi). “I'm Cece. It was nice meeting you, Idrees.”

She collected her bags and boarded the bus. A few others went in behind, none of them being the old man. She took a window seat near him and waved goodbye, her face bright and smiling, washing away his insecurities and leaving his mind hazy with bliss. He waved back—too stunned to do anything else—and watched as the bus took her away.