Alpha Toji x omega male reader
Author: I did in fact kiss this brick before I threw it. Please let me know what you guys think!
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The calloused fingers tracing the edge of the ceramic mug were too large for the delicate thing, though Toji handled it with surprising care. Steam curled lazily from the chamomile tea insideātoo sweet, but heād added the extra honey anyway, just how he liked it. The kitchen was quiet save for the hum of the refrigerator, the dim overhead stovelight casting small shadows across his knuckles where they gripped the cup.
Down the hall, the bedroom door was cracked open. He could see the edge of the comforter tangled halfway off the mattress, the way it always was when sleep turned restless. He didnāt need to step closer to know the sheets would smell like salt and exhaustion, the pillowcase damp in patches. His throat tightened, but he forced his feet forward, the mug radiating warmth against his palm.
"Youāre supposed to be asleep," Toji murmured, nudging the door wider with his hip. The figure curled on the bed didnāt stir, but the hunch of his shoulders said enough.
The tea found its place on the nightstand, condensation already beading on the ceramic. Toji sat heavily on the edge of the mattress, the springs groaning softly under his weight. He reached out without thinking, fingers brushing against the back of his neckācold and sweaty, despite the blanket pulled up to his chin.
Tojiās fingers lingered against the chilled skin of his omegaās neck, the contrast between his rough touch and the fragility beneath it sharper than ever. The scent of chamomile mixed with something sourāsuppressed grief, maybe, or the remnants of tears wiped away too quickly. He exhaled through his nose, slow and deliberate, before sliding his hand down to rest between his husbandās shoulder blades. The ridge of spine beneath his palm felt too pronounced, as if the weight of the last few days had carved him hollow.
"Teaās gonna get cold," Toji said, voice lower than he intended. The words werenāt about the tea, and they both knew it.
A shaky inhale. Then, muffled against the pillow: "I donāt want it."
Tojiās jaw worked. He couldāve pushedācouldāve nudged the mug closer, reminded him that he had barely eaten since Fridayāwhich was two days ago, that the hollows under his eyes were dark enough to bruise. Instead, he let his hand press a little firmer against his back, grounding. "Then donāt drink it," he conceded. "But youāre gonna sit up for me."
The mattress shifted as Toji leaned forward, his free hand sliding beneath his omega's shoulders to ease him upright. The movement was slow, deliberateāthe way he'd handle a spooked animal, all measured pressure and no sudden motions. His husband's body resisted at first, limbs heavy with exhaustion, but eventually he relented, allowing himself to be guided up against the headboard. His face stayed turned away, the sharp line of his jaw clenched tight even as his fingers twisted weakly in the sheets.
Toji didn't comment on the damp streaks glistening on his cheeks. Instead, he reached for the mug again, pressing it gently into his omega's hands. The warmth seeped into his pale fingers immediately, his grip so loose Toji had to curl his own larger hands around them for a moment, just to make sure he wouldn't drop it. "There," he murmured, thumbs brushing over his knuckles. "Just hold it for now. Don't gotta drink."
A shuddering breath escaped his omega's lips, his shoulders curling inward as if the weight of the mug alone might crush him. The scent of honeyed chamomile wafted between them, undercut by something sharperāgrief, thick enough to taste. Toji stayed close, his knee pressing into the mattress beside his hip, close enough that their body heat mingled in the scant space between them.
"Should've been stronger," his omega whispered finally, voice cracked at the edges. His fingers trembled around the ceramic. "IāI could'veā"
Tojiās fingers tightened around his omegaās before he could stop himselfānot enough to hurt, never enough to hurt, but enough to make the words stutter to a halt. The tea sloshed dangerously close to the rim of the mug, but neither of them moved to steady it. "Donāt," Toji growled, the sound rough but low. "Donāt fucking say that."
His omega flinched, but Toji didnāt let go. Instead, he shifted closer, his free hand cupping the back of his neck, forcing his forehead to rest against his own. The scent of salt and chamomile filled the space between them. "You think I give a single shit about āstrongā?" Toji muttered, breath hot against his lips. "Youāre here. Thatās all that matters."
A broken noise escaped his omegaās throat, something between a sob and a laugh. "Butā"
"No." Tojiās thumb brushed the hollow under his eye, smearing the dampness there. "Listen to me. This wasnāt your fault. It wasnāt you." The words came out sharper than he intended, but he needed them to stick, needed them to carve through the guilt festering in his husbandās chest. "You didnāt fail. You hear me? You didnāt."
Tojiās words hung heavy in the air, but they didnāt landānot really. His omegaās breath hitched, then fractured entirely, a wet, ragged sound tearing from his throat as his shoulders crumpled forward. The mug slipped from his grasp, tea splashing across the duvet, but Toji caught it before it could shatter against the floor, tossing it carelessly onto the nightstand. His hands were back on his husband in an instant, gripping his wrists as his omegaās fingers clawed at his own chest, like he could dig out the grief festering there.
"I felt it," his omega choked out, voice shredded. "I felt whenāwhen it stopped." The last word cracked like a whip, and then he was sobbing, really sobbing, his entire body convulsing with the force of it. Toji hauled him forward, crushing him against his chest as his omegaās fists pounded weakly against his ribsāonce, twiceābefore going limp, fingers twisting desperately in Tojiās shirt. "I hate this," he gasped, the words muffled against Tojiās collarbone. "I hate that I couldnātāfuckā"
Tojiās arms tightened around him, one hand cradling the back of his head as his husbandās cries turned raw, guttural. He didnāt try to shush him. Didnāt tell him it would be okay. He just held him, let him scream into his shoulder, let him shake apart in his arms, his own jaw clenched so tight his teeth ached. The anger was there, simmering under his skinānot at him, never at himābut at the fucking universe for carving this pain into someone who deserved it least.
His omegaās nails dug into his back, sharp even through the fabric. "Itās not fair," he spat, the words ragged with fury. "We wanted them. Weāgodāwe picked out names." The last syllable broke into a wail, and Tojiās grip on him turned bruising, his nose buried in his hair as his own vision blurred. He hadnāt cried. Not yet. But feeling him like thisāthe way his body heaved with every sob, the way his scent had gone sour with anguishāit was fucking breaking him.
"Let it out," Toji growled against his temple, his voice rough. "Fucking let it out." He didnāt care if the neighbors heard. Didnāt care if the whole goddamn world heard. His husband had been swallowing this grief for days, choking on it, and Toji would be damned if he didnāt let him scream it into the open air.
His omega went rigid for a moment, as if fighting the urge to collapse entirely.
A sound tore from his throatāsomething primal, something woundedāand Toji felt it in his own ribs, a phantom ache. His husband clawed at his shoulders, his hips, anywhere he could reach, like he was trying to anchor himself. "Why us?" he gasped, forehead pressed hard against Tojiās sternum. "Whyāwhy our baby?" The question was a blade, and Toji had no answer to give. Only the steady press of his palms against his back, the unyielding heat of his body.
The anger burned hotter then, sudden and vicious. His omega reared back, eyes wild, teeth bared. "I shouldāve known," he snarled, fingers twisting in Tojiās shirt. "I shouldāveāfelt it sooner, done somethingā!" His voice cracked, and then his fists were slamming into Tojiās chestāonce, twiceāweak punches that barely registered before he collapsed forward again, his breath coming in sharp, wet hitches.
Toji caught his wrists, not to stop him, but to hold him together. "You couldnāt," he said, low and firm. "You hear me? You couldnāt." His omega whimpered, a broken sound, and Toji hauled him closer, tucking him under his chin. "This wasnāt your fault," he repeated, lips moving against his hair. "It wasnāt. It wasnāt."
His husband shuddered, then went stillātoo still. For a heartbeat, Toji thought heād finally exhausted himself. Then, with a ragged inhale, his omega whispered, "But what if it was?" The words were so quiet, so small, that Toji barely caught them. His grip tightened instinctively. "What ifāwhat if I did something wrong? What if Iā"
"Stop." Tojiās voice was sharp, but his hands were gentle, framing his husbandās face. "Look at me." When he didnāt, Toji ducked his head, forcing their eyes to meet. His omegaās lashes were clumped with tears, his cheeks flushed and damp. "You didnāt," he said, each word deliberate. "You loved them. You wanted them. Thatās all that fucking matters."
His omega stared at him, lips trembling. Then, with a ragged sob, he buried his face in Tojiās neck again, his body wracked with silent cries. Toji held him, one hand cradling the back of his head, the other splayed across his spine, as if he could press the shattered pieces of him back together through sheer will alone.
Minutes passedāor maybe hours. The room grew dimmer, the shadows stretching longer across the floor. Eventually, the sobs quieted to hiccups, then to uneven breaths. Toji didnāt move. Didnāt loosen his hold. Not until his omega shifted, his fingers uncurling from Tojiās shirt to press weakly against his chest.
"Mā sorry," he mumbled, voice hoarse. "IāI didnāt mean toā"
"Donāt." Tojiās hand slid down to cup his jaw, thumb brushing the redness of his cheek. "Donāt apologize. Not for this."
His omega swallowed hard, then nodded, his gaze dropping to where his fingers now rested limp on Tojiās chest. The silence between them wasnāt comfortable, but it wasnāt suffocating anymoreājust heavy, like a shared weight.
Toji exhaled slowly, then reached for the discarded mug on the nightstand. The tea had gone cold, but he drained it in one gulp anyway, the bitterness of oversteeped chamomile coating his tongue. "We should eat," he said, setting the mug down with a clink.
His husband shook his head, pressing closer to Tojiās side as if he could disappear into him. "Not hungry."
"You will be." Toji pressed a kiss to his temple, then shifted to standāonly for his omegaās fingers to tighten in his shirt with surprising strength.
"Stay," he whispered, voice cracking. "Justājust a little longer."
Toji hesitated, then sank back onto the mattress, pulling his husband into his lap. He didnāt speakādidnāt trust himself to say the right thingābut his arms wrapped around him all the same, solid and unyielding. His omega melted into the embrace, his forehead resting against Tojiās shoulder, his breath warm against his collarbone.
The silence stretched, thick with unsaid words. Then, a shuddering inhale. "I keep thinkingā" His omegaās voice was raw, barely audible. "What if I dream about them? What if I see them andāand it hurts?" His fingers twisted in Tojiās shirt again, knuckles white. "I donāt want to forget, but I donāt want to remember either."
Tojiās throat tightened. He hadnāt considered thatāthe way grief could twist even sleep into a battlefield. His hand slid up his omegaās spine, fingers threading through his hair. "Then you wake me up," he said, voice rough. "Every time. You wake me up, and Iāll be here."
His omega made a soundāhalf a sob, half a laughāand pressed closer, his nails digging into Tojiās back. "You canāt fix this," he murmured, the words muffled against his skin.
"I know." Tojiās grip tightened. "But I can be here."
āIāll always be here.ā
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Authors note: Well Iām back on a small steady track of posting stories. I hope to keep it going but generally weāll see. Anyway I hoped you enjoyed, please leave any tips, comments, or suggestions down below.
