#I wish I had the ability to draw him in a way that shows his pathetic dorkiness as well as his hotness

[tubesock86]

sweet boyyyyy

[signedkoko]

HEHEHHEE OPEN REQUESTS???

Hello koko! I was summoned by your open requests, and I just had an idea, how about headcanons/one shot for Alastor and Vox (separately) with a reader who has powers a bit like Toge Inumaki in JJK?( I saw that you were watching JJK so I assume you know how his powers works) like what do they think about it? how do they react when reader uses her powers? How they communicate with her?

THANKS FOR READING MY REQUEST DEAR KOKO! HAVE A GOOD DAY/NIGHT

-🐚

Alastor | Vox X Reader [Romantic]

In which your speech causes action, so you can't speak unless you wish to control others. Reader is female.

When you first came to the hotel, Alastor was not impressed

You were certainly a gorgeous sight, but it was ruined by the device in your hands that you had your nose buried in, screen lighting ruining your face

It took him quite a while when he heard strings of words emanating from the device to realize you were speaking through it, your fingers pressing on keys faster than he could follow

You introduced yourself to everyone that day, as a new hire for the hotel, and how you couldn't speak but hoped it wouldn't get in the way

He was certainly irked by the device in your hands, but it was funny to see someone so weak that they had to rely on a flimsy device made by an even flimsier overlord

Truly a shame

You learn the hard way not to get too close to him while using your device, or else it starts to act up and get damaged

Alastor still spoke to you; of course he did! Because he was amused knowing you couldn't retort

But eventually, without noticing, he would talk more and more, filling every aspect of the silence between you

You were the best listener, both since you had no choice and because you didn't give any shitty advice

The only thing that weirded him out was the weird clicking he started to hear around you

Something about it was so familiar

J-E-R-K-J-E-R-K-J-E-R

When he looked down at your hand and saw a clicker in your hand, he realized what you were doing

Of course he knew morse code by heart! He studied all sorts of things, but he wasn't sure why you'd do things that way when you had a much easier device

Unless you did it just for him?

R-K-J-E-R-K-J

" And who are we calling names, my voiceless companion? "

Y-O-U

Still, it's very touching to see you go from using your phone to putting it away when you come to him to talk

And not much changes since you can't get out too many words with your morse method

One evening, while on a walk together, Alastor was reciting to you how he'd come to work for Charlie and how she sang on the news for so many to see! When a group of assassins surrounded the two of you, angel steel weapons were on full display

Before Alastor handled them—which, let's be fair, would be no issue to him—you pulled quicker on the draw

" COMATOSE. "

You yelled it with your hands clamped over Alastors ears, and the instant the word came out, they all dropped, beyond unconcious

Alastor laughs, because wow, that was quite the display!

But he's already dragging you over them to continue talking, now teasing you for treating him like a helpless damsel

He was certainly glad that he hadn't made an enemy of you when he first saw you, because you may stand a chance against him with an ability like that

Most sinners had some kind of ability that grew with their power, often souls under contract or training enhancing them

Vox himself had plenty of tricks under his sleeves, and he'd seen the most pathetic of abilities to those worth cowering before

But he'd never heard of something like yours

Overlords loved showing off their resources, which could include people who became very useful in battle

You were a 'friend' of Zestial, though, while most jumped at the opportunity to introduce themselves to other overlords, you only waved

Of course you piqued his interest, because when he ran his servers over you, he found little to nothing beyond pictures

After several days of stalking video feeds, he caught you and Zestial together when—oh fuck! You sign!

While he could have just waited for the next opportunity, Vox was far too invested in your story and opted to pay Zestial a visit, if it meant he could see you

From what he could tell, you were using ASL, so once he bumped into you he began signing his typical introduction

Something about his heart sparked when he saw you smile, the way those curious eyes sparkled

He was immediately embarrassed when you revealed he didn't have to sign because you could hear

But he was all healed when you signed that you were very glad to have met someone else you could talk with

Vox is used to the overstimulation of noises from news, music, footage, all of it always beaming into his head so much that the silence around you is eerie and takes him awhile to get used to

Zestial certainly has an ace; one Vox is jealous of

Since you got along so well, you and Vox schedule meet-ups so you can interact, seeing as he and Zestial are almost exact opposites

The first time he witnesses your powers is when Alastor shows up at one of your meetings, and he was certainly trying to embarrass Vox in front of you

But Vox was your friend, and you had no tolerance for Alastors threats

" Silence. "

From your lips poured a thick fog, which whisped its way over Alastor's mouth, forming a seal that prevented him from speaking

The radio demon wasn't pleased, but he wasn't about to act up a scene right now, so he turned and left

Vox immediately fanboys because, oh my FUCKING GOD, you showed him!!!

Wait, you can talk? You sound like that?

YOUR POWERS DID THAT???

He is about to waste your evening asking all kinds of things, you probably can't sign as fast as he can ask, too

Author's Note - Conch anon gets only the BEST of the BEST!!! I did like writing these anyways though, because i adore Inumaki...thank you for requesting!

[marypaol]

Copy Of A Copy

Draco Malfoy x fem!Reader

Summary: Whatever is drawn on your skin shows up on your soulmates skin.

Warnings: Annoyance, Draco being Draco, I honestly can’t think of anything let me know if you see something!

Note: I’ve been planning on writing this for so long and I’m finally doing so! Hope you guys enjoy. :)

Masterlist

Request Requirements

The pale fingers of the Slytherin carefully-but skillfully- chopped the ingredients for the Potion, trying to cut out the conversation of Potter and Weasley. They were clearly trying to keep their voices down but failing to do so due to Draco’s hearing abilities.

It was at that moment he wished he was temporarily deaf, so that he didn’t have to hear the bickering of Potter and wanna-be-Weasley.

“Haha! Look at Seamus, Malfoy.” Crabbe said, his big face scrunching up as his fat finger pointed to the clumsy boy across the room. Draco spared a glance, seeing the boy with a black face, looking into his potion helplessly as the explosion just occurred. Malfoy rolled his eyes, shooting Crabbe a glare before looking back to his task at hand.

But, when he glanced at his hand, he saw little flowers forming, the ink moist as whoever was drawing it was doing it in real time. Petal after petal appeared, forming a decent picture. He grumbled, grabbing the towel Seamus used to wipe his face and aggressively rubbed the skin, terribly smearing the ink on the back of his hand, the flowers mushing together, making it not look so decent anymore.

He flung the towel on the table beside him, and picked up the knife he placed down, going back to his previous actions.

“What now, Malfoy?” Goyle asked. Draco snarled.

“Stupid soulmate drawing on their skin again. Seriously, they can’t draw on a piece of parchment?” He complained, his chops becoming more harsh on the cutting board.

Goyle shrugged. “Unless they’re bored in class. What is it anyway? Little reminders?”

“No, course not! In fact, I’d rather it be that instead of rubbish drawings of dumb flowers! Look at that rubbish,” Draco started, repeating the word he said earlier with a bitter taste growing in his mouth. He showed the two boys what was left of the flowers on his hand. “Honestly, how ugly.”

The two boys agreed, but they had hints of smiles on their faces.

Draco noticed and barked. “What’s so funny, boys?”

The smiles dropped instantly on Goyle’s face but Crabbe still had a teasing glint in his eyes.

“Nothing, just that your soulmate draws on her skin.”

Draco squinted. “And what’s so funny about that? Enlighten me, I’d rather laugh than roll my eyes.”

Goyle shrugged. “Just that she must be doing it in purpose. Ya know, for you to see?”

Draco thought about it for a moment, ignoring the new lines forming on his hand.

“Why would I want to see this?” Draco wondered, irritation brewing inside him. “Especially on my hand, I don’t need it there, it’s annoying really.”

“You know how girls are. She’s desperate, man.” Crabbe jumped in, entering the conversation once he found out Draco wasn’t as upset as he thought.

Draco scoffed. “You know what, you’re right, Crabbe. She’s desperate for me. Doesn’t change the fact that it’s annoying and I don’t want it there.”

Draco then finally looked down at his hand, and this time he saw an eye with shading, the smooth strokes of eyelashes now forming on his skin. Once she was done, Draco saw more stokes forming above the eye, and, wondering what it is, leaned forward to see what she was drawing. It turned out to be an eyebrow, but the way the lines were drawn helped Draco see the direction the hairs were going in, adding detail to the drawing he didn’t know was needed.

He gripped the towel between his finger tips of his other hand, but he felt some sort of guilt eating at his chest for rubbing away such work. But he didn’t want to be walking around with silly eyes and eyebrows on his hand, so with unwanted shame brewing in his chest he rubbed the fabric on the back of his hand, the once was ink smearing, covering his skin in black.

The girl frowned deeply as she watched once more the drawings she made were harshly rubbed away. The ink from her quill was a black blob now once the person was satisfied enough. Satisfied that the pictures were gone.

Her heart sank in her stomach for an unknown reason.

Well, she knew the reason, she just didn’t want to admit to herself that what her soulmate was doing was effecting her in this way.

She shouldn’t be surprised that he rubbed them off; I mean, who wants to walk around the corridors with silly drawings on the back of their hand? She didn’t have a problem with it, but he clearly did.

After the last moment of Lupin’s lecture faded away with the bell she grumbly got up and out her things away, making her way to the bathroom to rub the ink off. (Despite the nonexistent problem with walking around with drawings on herself, she did have a problem with walking around with a big ink smear in their place.)

She bent over the sink, her bag discarded at her feet as she rubbed the skin, forming red marks in their wake. The ink slowly ran down the drain, her heart going down with it.

She wished her soulmate accepted her actions on showing she was there, existing, live and breathing, to assure them that someone out there wanted them. But was he just embarrassed? Did he not want her as much as she thought he did? Did he have an annoyance towards the whole soulmate concept?

She sure hoped not, because her want to show her love was strong, yet the want to receive it was even stronger.

She wanted someone to love.

That loved her right back.

Did he even want that?

“Any drawings today, Malfoy?” Crabbe asked, a soft chuckle escaping his big mouth. Draco snarled at the boy beside him, also glaring at Goyle who was making interesting-meaning quite disgusting- noises while he was eating the feast the house elves provided.

The boy who received the glare quickly composed himself, swallowing the large amount of whatever it was down his throat, a loud gulping sound heard around the table.

Draco glared again.

Finally he turned to the other boy who addressed him earlier and replied reluctantly.

“No. Thank goodness. I’ve been sick and tired of constantly having to distress my skin; honestly, the embarrassment of walking around with a red tomato colored hand.”

Crabbe agreed with a hum, in the middle of chewing. Draco definitely noticed him paying extra attention to the noises he was making, so he didn’t annoy Draco any further.

“Never mind that,” Draco said, pulling through Daily Prophet out of his robes, long pale fingers flipping the pages until he got to the one he wanted.

“Father’s in the paper, as always.” He said proudly, showing the two boys the picture of his father. “Oh! And look!” He added, chuckling madly as he pointed to the same article, the name ‘Arthur Weasley’ printed as it told a story about him.

“Ridiculous, honestly.” Malfoy muttered, shoving the paper to Goyle across the table since he was (according to Draco) taking too long to read it.

“Ugh, Care of Magical Creatures today.” Draco complained, looking at his schedule. “That silly Hagrid, honestly, I swear I’m going to die each time I attend his classes.”

Goyle swallowed again. “Seriously, how many times does he have to bring in a deadly creature that might chop my head off-”

“Well I would certainly enjoy that.” Draco snapped. Goyle’s cheeks turned pink.

“God this place has gone to the dogs.” Draco muttered, stuffing his schedule in his pocket, taking one last gulp of pumpkin juice, and storming out of the Hall, and without question, the two boys followed him.

“‘Ello! Please step dis way,” Hagrid said, large hands clapping together. Draco scoffed but reluctantly followed the orders.

“Taken’ care of- well more of lookin’ at interestin’ creatures today; take a step back now.” He warned. (Malfoy gladly stepped back)

The crates ended up being full of slimy creatures Draco ended up forgetting the name of, too busy trying to keep his fingers attacked to his hands. “Gross, Goyle you do it.” He said, handing the boy the food and watched as his friend gave the creature its supper, hands shaking nervously.

Draco looked around as Goyle did the work, folding his arms as he watched with amusement as the Gryffindors struggled to feed the animals.

He then spotted another Slytherin working alone, the back of her head the only thing visible when it came to her features near her face.

Two small braids were on either side of her head, easily blending with her hair but he could see the twisted strands in the sunlight much easier.

She turned so he saw her profile, and, from what he could see, her eyes were bright but hesitant, a look of disgust on her lips as she fed the creature. As soon as all the food was gone, she instantly dropped the tool she was using to handle the food and grabbed a rag, wiping her hands off even though she didn’t touch it or the animal.

It was then Draco saw it. The small detail on her left hand, as so his.

A patch of distressed skin was there, in the same exact shape as Draco’s. He found himself looking at his own hand, then at hers, and back at his once again to double check.

They matched.

They matched.

Which means only one thing.

The girl that he’s never seen before, which was quite surprising since he often told himself that he knew all the Slytherins, was his soulmate.

What was more surprising though was something much weirder and stranger. And that something was this:

The realization didn’t bother him one bit.

Tag list: @thatonepupkai @squishneon @buttersuaa @bxtchsimp @amayaaaxx @ssailormoonn @redvelvet103 @yasmine12xxx @youreyesareasprettyasstars @cassiethefab @iambored24601

Thanks for liking the post! (I will also be tagging y’all in the Harry one- let me know if you changed your mind about it and don’t want to be tagged!) :)

Skin To Skin (part two!)

[cy-cyborg]

Writing and drawing amputee characters: Not every amputee wears prosthetics (and that's ok)

Not every amputee wears prosthetics, and not doing so is not a sign that they've "given up".

It's a bit of a trope that I've noticed that when an amputee, leg amputees in particular, don't wear prosthetics in media its often used as a sign that they've given up hope/stopped trying/ are depressed etc. If/when they start feeling better, they'll start wearing their prosthetics again, usually accompanied by triumphant or inspiring music (if it's a movie). The most famous example of this is in Forest Gump, Where Dan spends most of the movie after loosing his legs wishing he'd died instead. He does eventually come around, and him finally moving from his wheelchair to prosthetics is meant to highlight this.

The thing is, it's not that it's unrealistic - in fact my last major mental health spiral was started because one of my prosthetics was being a shit and wouldn't go on properly, despite fitting perfectly at the prosthetist's the day before. I'm not going to use my legs when I'm not in a good headspace, but the problem is, this is the only time non-prosthetic using amputees ever get representation: to show how sad they are. Even if that's not what the creator/writer necessarily intended, audiences will often make that assumption on their own unless you're very careful and intentional about how you frame it, because it's what existing media has taught them to expect.

But there are lots of reasons why someone might not use prosthetics:

they might not need them: this is more common in arm amputees because of how difficult it can be to use arm prosthetic, especially above-elbow prosthetics. Most folks learn how to get on without them pretty well. In fact, most of the arm amputees I know don't have prosthetics, or only have them for specific tasks (e.g. I knew a girl who had a prosthetic hand made specifically for rowing, but that's all she used it for).

Other mobility aids just work better for them: for me, I'm faster, more manoeuvrable and can be out for longer when I'm in my wheelchair than I ever could on my prosthetics. Youtube/tik tok creator Josh Sundquist has said the same thing about his crutches, he just feels better using them than his prosthetic. This isn't the case for everyone of course, but it is for some of us. Especially people with above-knee prosthetics, in my experience.

Other disabilities make them harder to use: Some people are unable to use prosthetics due to other disabilities, or even other amputations. Yeah, as it turns out, a lot of prosthetics are only really designed for single-limb amputees. While they're usable for multi-limb amps, they're much harder to use or they might not be able to access every feature. For example, the prosthetic knee I have has the ability to monitor the walk cycle of the other leg and match it as close as possible - but that only works if you have a full leg on the other side. Likewise, my nan didn't like using her prosthetic, as she had limited movement in her shoulders that meant she physically couldn't move her arms in the right way to get her leg on without help.

Prosthetics are expensive in some parts of the world: not everyone can afford a prosthetic. My left prosthetic costs around $5,000 Australian dollars, but my right one (the above knee) cost $125,000AUD. It's the most expensive thing I own that I only got because my country pays for medical equipment for disabled folks. Some places subsidise the cost, but paying 10% of $125,000 is still $12,500. Then in some places, if you don't have insurance, you have to pay for that all by yourself. Even with insurance you still have to pay some of it depending on your cover. Arm prosthetics are even more expensive. Sure, both arms and legs do have cheaper options available, but they're often extremely difficult to use. You get what you pay for.

they aren't suitable for every type of environment: Prosthetics can be finicky and modern ones can be kind of sensitive to the elements. My home town was in a coastal lowland - this means lots of beaches and lots of swamp filled with salty/brackish water. The metals used in prosthetics don't hold up well in those conditions, and so they would rust quicker, I needed to clean them more, I needed to empty sand out of my foot ALL THE TIME (there always seemed to be more. It was like a bag of holding but it was just sand). Some prosthetics can't get wet at all. There were a few amputees who moved to the area when I was older who just didn't bother lol. It wasn't worth the extra effort needed for the maintenance.

People have allergies to the prosthetic material: This is less of a problem in the modern day, but some people are allergic to the materials their prosthetics are made from. You can usually find an alternative but depending on the type of allergy, some people are allergic to the replacements too.

Some people just don't like them.

There's nothing wrong with choosing to go without a prosthetic. There's nothing wrong with deciding they aren't for you. It doesn't make you a failure or sad or anything else. Using or not using prosthetics is a completely morally neutral thing.

Please, if you're writing amputees, consider if a prosthetic really is the best mobility aid for your character and consider having your characters go without, or at least mix it up a bit.

For example, Xari, one of the main characters in my comic, uses prosthetics unsupported and with crutches, and uses a wheelchair. They alternate between them throughout the story.

[muddyorbsblr]

curiosities

See my full list of works here!

Requested by: Anonymous | view request here

Summary: Loki's interrogation tactics left you curious about his powers, and he's more than happy to give you a little demonstration while you worked on your reports.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Warning/s: 18+ | slightly smutty (think limes not lemons…but still, minors & pearl clutchers leave right now); thigh riding; hand necklaces; naughty use of Loki's powers; semi-public [let me know if I missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: established relationship

Dick-tionary: nothing explicit but proceed with caution starting from "Quiet, darling"

"Darling? Are you alright?"

The sound of Loki's voice broke through the hazy thoughts you'd found yourself lost in for the last few minutes, making you realize that your fingers hovered over the keyboard for so long that your computer screen went on Standby. And the text fields of your interrogation report remained blank.

"Sorry what?" you mumbled, realizing too late that the reason you lost yourself in your thoughts in the first place was from recalling the events of the interrogation from earlier. Specifically the way your lover's voice and overall aura darkened as he threatened a variant of reminding them specifically what kind of person he was on the once Sacred Timeline.

Of showing them a sampling of the terrible awful things that he could do, especially now given that the magic barrier had been switched off. You had only the slightest whispers of an idea, given what you'd read from his file and the files of multiple variants of him.

Shadow casting. Duplication casting. An entire pocket dimension filled with who knows what. And then there was the telepathy. The telekinesis. The illusion projection. The mind control.

Which powers did your Loki have, you wondered. And which ones would he utilize in the name of those terrible, awful things?

And why did the prospect of him using those powers on you stir something in you that currently had you struggling not to squirm in your seat from the arousal?

"You look as if you keep drifting off, darling. Are you feeling alright?" Loki reached out to cup the side of your face in his large hand, the contact hitting him with a barrage of the thoughts that had been swimming through your mind since the interrogation. "Oh…" he rasped, moving his hand to weave his fingers through your hair. "I see now what has stolen your ability to focus on this…simple tedious task."

"Hmmm?" you replied absently, soft whimpers escaping you once the god leaned in and started pressing kisses from your temple down to your neck. This wasn't helping your wandering thoughts in the slightest. And then he wrapped his arm around you, lifting you up from your seat and maneuvering you to straddle his thigh. "Loki," you whined, a sharp gasp escaping you when he nipped at the spot between your neck and shoulder.

"Quiet, darling," he told you in a low teasing tone. "You wish to know which powers I possess? I'm more than happy to give you a little demonstration." He brought a hand up to your neck, squeezing ever so slightly at the sides. "I've cast an illusion wherein our colleagues are none the wiser to our…current predicament. All they see is us, sitting side by side, your lover patiently waiting for you to finish your report."

He flexed the muscles of his thigh, the motion causing a delicious friction between your legs. You let out the start of a moan before his fingers tightened around your neck for a fraction of a second.

"Much as I would adore to hear those beautifully filthy sounds from you, my love, I'm going to have to implore you stay silent. See, if you make any noise that could draw people's attention to us, the illusion breaks. And we'll be disciplined." With a wave of his hand, your jacket disappeared and reappeared neatly folded on the table in front of you. He kissed at your now exposed arm. "Can you breathe alright?"

Butterflies fluttered violently at your stomach at the question, choosing to nod instead of voicing your answer.

"Good girl." A rush of arousal pooled between your thighs at his words. You bit your lip to prevent yourself from making a sound when he nipped at your skin. Another wave of his hand and you suddenly felt cool wispy tendrils grasping at your waist and moving you to grind on your boyfriend's thigh. "I must admit, dear Y/N, I rather enjoy finding these more…pleasurable uses of my abilities. Especially with how deliciously responsive your exquisite form is under my touch." He kissed his way up to your ear. "I look forward to using them all with you. Perhaps later tonight, in our home."

The tendrils held you tighter, pressing you down harder against his thigh before proceeding to undulate your hips. The increased friction, along with how he was kissing and nipping away at your earlobe, had you letting out a strangled moan before his hold tightened on you again, your head swimming from the pressure.

"What did I say about breaking the illusion, my darling?" he growled, the gravel in his voice making you even wetter. "Do you wish to give every soul in this library a show of how desperate and wanton I can make you? Is that it?" He flexed his thigh again the same time that the wispy tendons ground your hips harder against it, a barely muted whimper coming out of you before you bit down hard on your lip and shook your head. "Then stay quiet, sweet mortal. Lest you wish for me to find something within my pocket dimension to stuff that beautiful mouth of yours with."

You did what you could to look down at what was moving you, your mouth forming in an 'O' when you saw that it was his shadows. You let out the tiniest whimper of his name, the pressure on the side of your neck lessening when he stroked at your skin with his thumb.

"I'm going to lift this illusion and then you shall finish your report so that I may bring you home and we can move on to a more…thorough demonstration," he rasped, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "With a little help from a few friends of mine." A flash of Loki's green magic from the corner of your eye caught your attention, his shadows grinding you down even harder on his thigh once you caught sight of two duplicates of him waving and smirking at you. One was wearing that ruffled tuxedo that on paper looked unremarkable on the average man.

But Loki was no average man. He was a god. Your god.

And the other duplicate was dressed exactly as such. With the gold horns and the black and green leather, his usual obsidian curls straightened and slicked back with a menacing look in his eyes as his gaze roamed your body.

The feel of his thigh flexing against your slit had you bringing back your attention to the Loki that held you in place. Your Loki. The real one.

"But first, I want you to soak my thigh."

A/N: Anon, whoever you are, I hope you're having the absolute best day because getting this in my asks had me staring at the ceiling and immediately typing down a lil note in my writing schedule to make this 🫠 Hopefully I did your thot justice

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover @dryyoursaltyoceantears @herdetectivetheorist

[dietcokegirly12]

“Torturous Intent”

featuring nikolai gogol (Φ‿‿Φ)

─── ⋆⋅ 𓉸 ⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ 𓉸 ⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ 𓉸 ⋅⋆ ──

art credit: @gorimarus

─── ⋆⋅ 𓉸 ⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ 𓉸 ⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ 𓉸 ⋅⋆ ──

dead dove do not eat!! this one is a lil dark!

tags: bondage, sexual torture, restraints, interrogation, psychological manipulation, power imbalance, teasing, edging, dubcon, corruption kink, fingering, unprotected sex, coercion, dark themes, etc. etc.

word count: 2.2k

KINKTOBER OCT. 23 ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖𓉸ִֶָྀི ִֶָ་༘ ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪

───｡‧˚ʚ 🂱 ɞ˚‧｡─── ｡‧˚ʚ 🂱 ɞ˚‧｡─── ｡‧˚ʚ 🂱 ɞ˚‧

"You know what would be fun, Fyodor?" The white haired man in front of you giggled manically, looking down at your slumped form on the floor, arms chained behind your back. "Fucking this pretty little thing until she talks about who she is, and what she wants."

"Do what you wish with her," Fyodor's cool Russian accent floated through the air eerily, waving his hand dismissively as his footsteps began to retreat. "I leave the rest to you."

You had been caught by the Decay of Angels, a terrorist organization made up of several Gifted individuals whose plan it was to eradicate the world as it is, using a page from a reality altering book. You, an undercover member of the Armed Detective Agency, had been tasked with getting more info, stealing the page back to prove the Agency’s innocence, and ultimately save the world but things had clearly gone astray.

What you failed to take into account was how secure the Decay of Angels base was, and how overpowering all of the members truly were.

Fyodor, who you believed the smartest in the group, somehow managed to sense your arrival, and sent his little minion, Nikolai after you, who you were unable to escape from due to his ability, The Overcoat, which allowed him to teleport and open portals to draw his victims into.

Which is how you found yourself here. Your hands chained behind your back, and restrained on the floor, staring up defiantly at the now lone man who stood in front of you.

He crouches down close to you, one long finger coming to toy with a strand of hair falling into your eyes. “So little dove, gonna talk? Or am I just gonna have to make you?”

“Fuck. You. And your stupid organization. The Detective Agency is going to stop all of you, and when they do, you’ll regret this.” You snarl out.

Nikolai stands back up, and simply laughs, delighted by your response. “Well. Guess we have to do this the hard way, then!”

He suddenly yanked your feet toward him, and with a surprising amount of force managed to pin you down, your legs spread. You tried to squirm, but he held you down firmly, and before you could blink, had your legs chained apart.

“What..”

“Now, I believe I asked you a question, dove.” he practically purrs, his hands coming up to grip your thighs tightly.

Nikolai was his name. You didn’t know much about the elusive man, except his ability, and that his reason for joining the Decay of Angels was to achieve total freedom.

You hated him, his ideals, and everything he stood for. How could somebody do those things to innocent people, and kill so many for such a stupid goal?

But now, as he stood in front of you, grinning wolfishly, his white braid swinging down by his face, and striped pants showing off an impressive bulge, you couldn’t help the heat that spread over your body at being in such a compromising position.

They had already stripped you of clothes to ensure you didn’t have any weapons or devices strapped to you, so you were dressed in nothing but a thin pair of panties, your chest bare.

"Tell me everything." His hands slide farther up, reaching dangerously close to the warmth between your thighs, already seeping arousal.

"I..." You swallow, your eyes flicking up to his. "I won't! You can't make me!"

His lips curve up. "Oh really? Is that a challenge? Because I love challenges!"

You gasp as in one swift tug, he pulls down your panties, exposing your dripping cunt to him.

"Oh?" He giggles in delight. "I didn't realize you were this wet already, doll. This is going to be easy."

He gently cups your entire pussy in his hand, making you inhale sharply, automatically trying to squeeze your legs around his hand, but to no avail, the chains rattling slightly.

One expert finger comes to tilt up your chin, his scarred eye boring into yours. "Last chance to answer the question before things get rough for youu.." he says in a sing-song voice, his hand squeezing slightly tighter around you for emphasis.

You gulp, trying to keep your composure. The Detective Agency had trained you for this, had warned you of his tactics, and you weren't going to give in so easily. "No."

His grin widens. "Well, if you insist." And with one motion, a lithe finger plunges into you, immediately curling upward to hit your sweet spot, making your mind instantly go blank as a harsh moan leaves you.

"Now, are you from the Guild?" He watches you carefully, his thumb ghosting over your clit before pressing lightly.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to ignore him, but unable to stop him, or even move, completely spread out for him to see and touch.

"Hm?" he leans closer to you, his warm breath tickling your neck as he slowly begins to add another finger, stretching you.

"What about.." he scissors you with his perfect, long fingers, hitting places you've never been able to reach before. "the Port Mafia?"

You cry out a soft moan in response, trying to shift to open your legs wider, feeling yourself getting closer to release.

He giggles at this, continuing his movements even faster than before. "No, I know, I know. You're from The Detective Agency, aren't you?" With that, he presses his finger harshly to your clit, eliciting a soft whimper from you.

Delighted, he presses harder. "Yes?"

He begins to pump his fingers in and out of you, lewd squelching sounds ensuing as he also applies pressure to your throbbing clit.

Just as white-hot pleasure begins to creep up, white dots spotting your vision as your tummy coils, tightening up around him, he slips his fingers back out, leaving only a painful throbbing behind.

You gasp softly for breath, shaking by this point as you squirm, desperately needing more for the pulsing in between your plushy thighs. "Nikolai.." you beg.

He cocks his head mockingly. "Tell me, and this can all be over, little dove."

You simply stare at him, tears beginning to brim over your lash line.

He tsks softly, shaking his head. "Wanna play games, huh? Too bad for you because I happen to have quite a talent in them."

─── ⋅ 🃖🃁🂺 ⋅ ───⋅ 🃖🃁🂺 ⋅ ───⋅ 🃖🃁🂺 ⋅ ──

It's been hours and you still wouldn't talk.

Nikolai had begun to get restless, very worked up by your soft pleads and whimpers, though he wouldn't show it.

"Just tell me, baby." his voice is ragged, breathing slightly strained, and through your hazy vision, blurred by tears of overstimulation and pent-up tension from your muscles contracting, you see a very large tent straining against his striped pants, pre-cum beginning to seep through, and leave a damp, wet patch across the front.

"Tell me, and I can give you what you want."

By this point, all your muscles are numb and completely sore from the constant straining against your cuffs making you unable to move or flinch away. Salty tears crust on your cheeks, and sweat covers your entire body in a slight sheen.

He had replaced his fingers with a vibrator, the low hum the only sound in the cool, damp room, as your sensitive bud throbs dully.

Every now and then, he'd turn it up, high enough for you to feel the very tips of your pleasure spreading through your body, but having become accustomed to your tell-tale signs by now; the slight scrunch of your eyes, the way your moans get pitchier, and you ever so slightly try to grind your hips up, retracts it immediately, leaving you an unsatisfied mess.

More excruciating minutes tick by, and he continues questioning you, not stopping the relentless buzzing against your puffy clit.

"What possible group could it be that you're this loyal to, hm? What do they do for you?"

"It's n-not.. ah.. about that. It's about working for the right side, being morally correct."

You can't stifle the soft sobs and whimpers wracking your body, and seeming to take pity for a moment, he puts the vibrator to the lowest setting, pausing to tilt his head. "Are you truly happy in the organization you work for? Or do you just do it to feel like you're on the right side?"

You move your head side to side, shuddering softly. "F-fuck, I j-just want to be on the side that makes a difference in the world, you know? That changes it in s-some way."

His face seems to alight with curiosity at that. "Both sides have the capacity to change the world, but neither is completely good or completely evil. They have different purposes, but ultimately both sides have to do terrible things for their beliefs. Wouldn't you agree, dove? Hm? Just how many people have you killed on your journey to righteousness?" He says the last word like an insult, curling his lip maliciously and beginning to straighten himself up to leave, humming softly.

You truly can't take it anymore, the torturing, the constant stimulation, it's all too much. And now you're questioning your beliefs, your morals, all because of this stupid man, if you could even call him that. The worst part of it all was that he was partly right about some of it. You had killed people, lots of them at that. So could you really consider yourself working for a good organization? And in the end, did it really matter?

"Wait!" You call out desperately, as you scrabble against the chains holding back your weak body.

He turns back, his lips curving up sadistically.

"The Detective Agency! I work for The Detective Agency! They sent me here to steal the page back! At one time, I enjoyed w-working for them. But now.. I-I don't know." You whimper softly, your eyes fluttering pathetically as tears slide down your cheeks. "A good agency wouldn't leave me here to suffer, r-right?"

Instead, you feel his fingers graze your cheek, cool to the touch. "That's right. See, that's all you had to say. Good girl." He stands up again, and you panic, thinking that was all you're going to get, but instead he begins to push down his striped pants enough to reveal his flushed cock, pearly pre-cum beading out of the tip. He wasn't very thick, but he was long. So long, that you involuntarily whined at the thought of him being inside you, prodding all your sweet spots, and giving you what you craved so desperately.

"Eager, are we?" He presses himself on top of you, his cock leaking all over your stomach before he lines himself up against you, nudging slightly at your entrance. After being edged for so long, you're practically dizzy at just the feeling of his mushy tip barely pushing into your sensitive, puffy cunt.

In one fluid motion, he fully sheathes himself deep inside you, all the way to the hilt, the stretch filling you so deliciously, you try to suck him deeper, greedily taking every inch.

He groans softly at how tight and soft you are around him, the feeling of you so pathetically weak and helpless in his arms, reduced to a mere shred of yourself as you willingly give him everything you have, making him desperate to take more, more, more, until there's nothing left.

He begins a quick pace, his thrusts as spontaneous and jarring as he is, the length of him managing to hit that spongy spot inside you that has you arching and squirming as much as you can while restrained.

After being on the verge of cumming for hours, it doesn't take more than three thrusts of his long cock pressing sweetly into you for you to finally release around him, your warmth soaking and fluttering around his cock, sobbing with relief.

As you lay a boneless heap on the floor, he continues thrusting into you steadily until the warmth and twitching of you is too much for him to bear, his soft cries echoing as he finishes, spurting warm cum deep inside your walls, filling you up completely, some beginning to seep out of your abused cunt.

As your chest heaves, his body still pressed tightly against you, he pauses.

"Would you like to join the Decay of Angels, as my subordinate?"

You stare at him, bleary and submissive, fully broken underneath him.

"You could act as a double agent for us, going back to the Detective Agency and gathering intel. Hm? What do you say?" He excitedly peers down at you, noticing a hollowness in your eyes that wasn't there before.

"The Agency has never really cared for me. They care for the purpose, the cause of what we're doing, and they'll do anything to achieve it." You shift, looking up at him with wide, uncertain eyes. "Would you do that if I worked with you?"

"No, dove, I would never. This little torturing session was only to get a response. And please, call me 'kolya."

You sigh, your body soft against his as you mull it over. You turn back, your eyes slightly dull, and lacking the contempt righteousness that they had held before. "Okay, 'kolya. I'll join."

His lips curve ever so slightly up into a sadistic smile.

He was going to ruin you.

tagslist: (ask to be tagged!)@rosebluuod @sakui1 @snowsilver2000 @kissesmellow21

[anna-proxx]

☆ evening in camp ☆

pairing: arthur morgan x fem!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 1882

a/n: my dear readers, this is my first attempt at a rdr2 oneshot here on tumblr, I started with something easy but will definitely add more action in the future. this right here broke my writer's block and for that i am grateful. hope this brings you some comfort whenever you need it.

It was a chilly evening, meek distant noise of nocturnal animals creating a peaceful ambience, along with the crackling fire nearby. The whole camp was already either asleep or holed up in their tents.

It has been a good day. Arthur and Javier successfully robbed a homestead, Micah was still locked up in jail and Bill brought a good catch from his hunting trip.

Javier sang and played the guitar by the campfire earlier and some people sang along. In general, this evening was one of those that made you feel warm inside.

The night sky was clear, stars peeking down at you as you wished your mare a good night, patting her neck and giving her a carrot before you'd leave her to sleep. That girl was dear to you and you showed her gratitude every day.

A small kiss on her nose and you finally turned around, admiring the full moon shining bright on the ink black sky. You walked across the quiet camp, careful not to make too much noise. You made your way straight towards the small light of an oil lamp in Arthur's tent.

He sat on his bed, slouched over his journal set on the table, writing with all focus. You smiled, feeling all the affection you felt for that man.

When you came close, he looked up from his journal, his gaze softening as he patted the place beside him. "C'm sit."

You sat right next to him, putting your hands in your lap as you gave Arthur a bright smile. He chuckled. "Ya done givin' that horse a g'night kiss?" he asked with a small grin on his face, returning his attention to the half-filled pages.

You slightly poked his arm with your elbow, a soft smile lingering on your lips. "She's like my family," you explained.

"I know. 'S cute."

You shuffled a bit closer, watching the pencil in Arthur's hand move swiftly. You enjoyed watching him write and draw, those idle moments always brought you comfort. And you had the honor to be allowed to watch. Arthur believed his drawings were nothing special but you knew better. His ability to draw details of an animal or scenery he saw just once from memory still blew your mind. You could barely recall such details, let alone draw them.

You quietly continued to watch, taking in every pretty letter he drew one after another. When he was done with the entry, he flipped the page and started sketching.

"What are you drawing?" you asked, watching the first lines of the sketch.

"A moose I saw t'day," Arthur answered, his voice calm and focused.

You continued to watch him and set your elbow on the table after a while, leaning your head against your hand. As always the drawing came out beautiful and you admired the authentic features of the animal that was looking up at you from the page. Arthur put the pencil aside and sighed, stretching his arms.

He then looked at you, a warm smile on his lips as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders. You leaned back from the table and snuggled into the half-embrace, resting your head on Arthur's shoulder. His body was warm and so were his fingers that drew small circles on your arm.

"Ya tired yet, darlin'?"

You smiled at the pet name and slightly shook your head. "Not really."

"Do y'want me to draw s'mthing for ya?" Arthur offered, watching your face intently as you thought.

"Me," you eventually said with a small grin. He drew you all the time and you loved every each one of those drawings.

"M'kay." He shortly caressed your arm before removing his from around you, shifting in his seat as he took the pencil again. He slightly nodded towards you. "Sit there, wanna hav' a good look at ya."

You slightly moved away to sit at the other edge, still facing Arthur who turned his body towards you, bending his leg on the bed to lean his journal against it. You shortly ran fingers through your hair, setting strands over your shoulders, and straightened your back, ready to be his model.

His face was relaxed as he started sketching, the soft sounds of the pencil gliding over the paper filling the air between you. Arthur kept looking up at you regularly, a gentle smile on his face as he met your soft affectionate gaze.

There was silence between you two but it was comfortable, happy. The light from the oil lamp lazily danced over the left side of his face, highlighting his features.

He was beautiful. As you remained motionless, you thought about how often he put himself down, being completely clueless about how he looked in your eyes.

"You're so pretty," you said quietly, nothing but affection and genuinity in your voice.

Arthur looked up at you surprised, then got visibly flustered as he blushed and looked back down at the sketch, scribbling on. He let out a small low chuckle. "I ain't pretty."

You slightly frowned, displeased with him rejecting the compliment like that. "So I am a liar?"

Arthur looked up, for a short moment he looked like a clueless child trying to find the right words. "I ain't meant it that way..."

You couldn't hold back a smile. "Just take the goddamn compliment, Mr Morgan, it's not so hard."

Arthur softly huffed as he returned his focus to the sketch, seemingly uncomfortable. A sad feeling grew in your chest. He really had no idea, did he?

"Am I a good model?" you asked after a while of silence. You knew very well he could draw you from memory but this was easier and you enjoyed being the center of his attention in any way. Frankly, Arthur enjoyed studying your features as you sat in front of him as well.

Arthur smiled. "M'favorite."

After a few more moments, he took a few glances at you and back at the journal with a satisfied expression, putting the pencil away.

Your face lit up as you shuffled over, curiously peeking at the page. You were met with your own soft gaze staring back at you, every detail of your face in its place. It melted your heart how carefully drawn each line was.

You kissed Arthur's cheek, loosely wrapping your arms around his neck. "Beautiful as always. Thank you."

"Yer beautiful," he said in response, putting the journal flat open on the table.

You slightly blushed and moved to sit behind him, resting your chin on his shoulder as you kept your arms wrapped around him. You weren't great at accepting compliments either. "Thank you, Mr Morgan." You sighed softly, feeling Arthur's hands envelope yours. "My talented outlaw," you mumbled quietly but clearly enough for him to hear.

You heard a chuckle. "What?" you asked, unsure of what that was for. "Yer in an affectionate mood t'day," he stated, amusement in his voice.

"There a problem with that?" you asked but the smile on your face remained.

You slightly leaned back and moved your hands to his shoulders, instinctively massaging them as you thought. Arthur was out hunting, riding and shooting most of the time, so your massages were always appreciated.

You heard a quiet sigh of relief as his body started becoming more relaxed.

"Would u like to go hunt with me tomorrow?" you asked. You were tired of being stuck in the camp and honestly going on a little trip with Arthur wouldn't be bad at all.

"Sure."

You smiled and reached for his suspenders, then slid them off his shoulders. He understood and unbuttoned his shirt so that you could get a better access to his back and shoulders.

"Thank you, darlin'."

You hummed in response and continued, your gaze moving over his exposed skin covered with small scars. You wondered about the story behind each one of them, some seemed to be almost faded while there was one very fresh bruise, a red line of dried blood.

Arthur took out a cigarette and lit it, puffing as he relaxed under your touch. He probably would've offered you one as well if you smoked, but you didn't, only ever tasting tobacco when you kissed him. You never minded.

After a few more moments you put a kiss on the nape of his neck, then kissed the fresher wound as well. You were always so worried whenever he left to do a dangerous job, only praying he'd return in one piece, but you knew it was his life; and you were a part of it.

When you moved to sit next to him again, cheeky smile on your face as your eyes met, Arthur sighed, mumbling with cigarette between his lips. "Yer too good for'm, woman."

You stared into his blue eyes for a long moment, a quiet voiceless conversation happening between you two with eye contact alone. He cared for you as much as you cared for him.

Without a word you snuggled up closer, soon being enclosed by body warmth as he embraced you. You relaxed into the hug and closed your eyes, just listening to Arthur's inhales and exhales of the smoke.

You assumed Arthur must've been thinking as well, as there was yet another comfortable silence between you two and you were slowly but surely slipping into sleep.

Arthur stubbed out his cigarette and wrapped his arm around your waist, making you open your eyes just as he moved back to a half sitting half lying position on his bed, effortlessly taking you with him so that you lay between his legs, head resting on his chest. You quietly giggled at the sudden movement and made yourself comfortable afterwards, positioning your head exactly so that you have Arthur's heartbeat beneath your ear.

You were happy to have him all for yourself, safe, alive. The mess in Blackwater or the emergent stop in Colter could've been much more fatal for you two. Davey and Jenny were gone. John was attacked by wolves. And although you loved Horseshoe Overlook, the homely feeling and the beautiful view, you knew you'd have to move eventually. You needed money and you weren't getting it exactly the legal way, and you could only lie low so long.

And frankly, with Micah in the gang now, your worry rose even more. Dutch trusted him, for some goddamn reason, but he seemed to be reckless and dangerous, bending some of the morals this gang used to have. Not to mention him being a straight up jerk to everyone.

"Arthur?" you spoke, your voice slightly worried as you caressed his arm with your fingers.

"Hm?" His chest vibrated under your head.

"We can't let another Blackwater happen again."

Arthur understood what you meant. Him and Hosea tried convincing Dutch that the ferry job was a bad idea but it happened nonetheless, putting your gang in a situation worse than ever before. You worried about the influence Micah had on Dutch and the potential limits.

You knew that Arthur trusted Dutch, him and Hosea raised him, after all; but he wasn't stupid either. And the plans Dutch claimed to have planted seeds of doubt in almost everyone.

Arthur's response was a sigh and a kiss on top of your head, his arms hugging you just a bit tighter. There wasn't really much he could say to comfort you, he always tried to be honest and he couldn't know how the future would unfold, after all.

But you trusted him. That he would do the right thing.

With Arthur's heartbeat echoing under your ear and embraced by his warmth, you were slowly being lulled to sleep by his regular breaths.

Whether you'd stay outlaws forever or not, this really was all you had wished for.

[rkiveinmarvel]

anatomy of hands and sake - roronoa zoro. (18+) des. angst-fluff-smut, wano arc. zoro finally woke up after the fight with big mom and kaido--he missed you. porn with plot. clothed sex. make up sex. unprotected sex (practice safe sex ppl) marking and biting>; soft sex, established relationship. soft!dom zoro, people being inlove, aftercare!! nsfw

notes. my propaganda: soft!zoro is canon zoro-again this contains smut (minors dni, pls) zoro big cock energy, mentions of wounds and stitches. F! Reader

hello. i had this idea for a while and yeah, here it is. it's my first time writing smut so, bear with me--n e way he might be ooc here but zoro is zoro and iluvhim. hiyori is mention as well tho-no hate to hiyori-luv that girl--livelaughlovemarimo

w.c: 3k (damn, zoro)

The infamous swordsman of the Straw Hat is known for his ability to stand his ground in any battle and situation, with one foot in front of him–he doesn’t hesitate to draw his sword if someone pisses off the crew. Saints forbid those who pissed off the swordsman because he will show no mercy and no hesitation, until it’s the captain’s orders—and an order from you.

            It’s no secret that you and the straw hats were once against each other in the fight at skypiea but that fight is the fight Zoro hesitated to hold his sword—maybe because he’s finally facing a right hand of the so-called god or maybe you were fighting against your will or maybe—just maybe—he didn’t want to hurt you. He still remembers how you gripped your sword with such anger and shouting at them to leave the island to protect themselves—call it a warning or a sign but at that moment, Zoro wanted to save you; he was glad he did.

            That was two years ago and here you are now waiting Zoro to wake up from his slumber after fighting Kaido and Big Mom. You reached for the damp towel as you wiped his worn-out body and slow heaving chest—Zoro looked peaceful when he sleeps, he always does, but moments like this you wish you can just see him working out at the crow’s nest, hear him argue with the cook, look out for Chopper, or just seat and listen to you.

            This is what you hate the most every time a battle ended, the silence of waiting, hoping, and wishing that all of the crew members are okay—the unwanted fast paced heartbeat as you wished for them to be okay. You sighed deeply as you caressed Zoro’s face and continue to wipe his cheeks and dance your fingertips in his hair.

            “Please, wake up…” You whispered lowly as you stare at this sleeping state and replace his old bandages with new ones. Once you finished cleaning him up—a small smile left your lips as you kissed his forehead. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

            Morning after morning, the green-haired swordsman and the future king of the pirates are still asleep—with no luck, you decided to spend the night looking out for the two; which Chopper didn’t agree at first, but as Chopper felt the tiredness catching up in his body—he agreed.

            Then, it was a week: a week of looking out for the two whilst also switching watching duties with the straw hat; but most of the time: you stayed there not wanting to switch with Sanji nor Nami as you hold Zoro’s hand muttering and wishing that he should wake up.

--

            Usopp rushes in the hallway and knocked on the room where you stayed—with a loud voice he announced that Zoro and Luffy are awake. You two immediately rush into the room—your pounding heartbeat and the ringing in your ear didn’t stop you—he’s awake, Zoro is awake—you kept on repeating on your head—the two of them are alive and okay.

            Hesitation floods in your mind as you stood by the door but soon was replaced when you hear cheers and a familiar laugh coming out from the room—as Usopp opened the door: there you saw him and Luffy.

            You didn’t know when or how but Chopper was clinging and trying to stop Zoro as he chugs a huge bottle of sake. A smile escaped your lips as Luffy called your name in such glee, with a last chug, Zoro finally locked eyes with you: saints, he missed you. You gave him a relieved smile but somehow covered when Hiyori placed a bottle of sake in front of him in which he groaned. He moved the sake aside and watched you talk to Luffy—he should speak to you­­—but before he can speak, he felt hands of Hiyori creeping from behind.

            “You were out for a week.” Brook explained as he drank and ate next to the crew.

            “We aren’t dirty though.” Zoro stated as he eyed his hands.

            “I cleaned you up.” Hiyori announced from behind him, earning a choke from Yamato, as Yamoto looks at you, as you catch his look—you chuckled in your cup as you drank sake. As Sanji and Zoro banters about Hiyori—you laughed at the sight—everything is okay, Wano is free, the crew are laughing, and Zoro is okay.

            “We should have the banquet, today!” Momonosuke announces.

            ---As the entire people cheers, Zoro locked eyes with you once again, as you raised a cup signaling him for a cheer in which he nodded and gave you a cheeky smirk. For the time being, Nami have decided to take a bath, inviting you, Robin, Hiyori, and the others as well.

            You leave the room as the boys continue to drink and eat—that until Zoro noticed that you’re no longer in the room he’s in—he stood up and left the room while also removing the bandages on his body because it restricts his movement as he walked.

--

            You were preparing for the bath when you entered your room until you felt a familiar arm holding you from behind. It didn’t make you flinch nor scared, somehow, it comforted you. You hummed at the person who’s hugging you from behind.

            You felt his chest on your back he holds you tighter. “You left early.”

            “Nami invited us for a bath.”

            “You didn’t talk to me.”

            “You were busy drinking.”

            He then let you go from his grasp and hold your shoulder to make you look at him. “Thanks for cleaning me up.” You smiled softly as you eyed him.

            “Hiyori did.” I teased innocently.

            “She did but you did it every day…”

            “How can you say so?” He then holds your hand and placed it on his cheeks. “I know how your hand feels when you hold me, woman.”

            As he placed your hand on your cheeks—he leaned in at the contact. “I’ve missed you, Zo.” You whispered lowly as you pulled him into an embrace, you settled in his chest as you listen to his heartbeat, beating pretty fast.

            He hummed as you said those words as he fiddled with the strand of your hair as you hugged him. “That was pretty dumb, you know.”

            That left him confused. “Law and Sanji told me what happened—that was dumb, Zoro.” He pulled away from the hug and noticed that some tears are threatening to fall from your eyes.

            He wiped them away as he waited you to continue what you’re about to say. “You almost died.” In that moment, his heartbeat begins to beat faster: you were that worried.

            “That was dumb because the way Law told me, it seems like you were ready to die---”

            “I wanted to protect Luffy and you—”

            His heart breaks as you shook your head. “Protect yourself too. I know you care about the crew but I don’t want to face this again—the fear of you not waking up, like in Thriller Bark? I know you don’t want to lose anyone but—I don’t want to lose you too.” Your hand shakes as you cup his cheeks again.

            He grips your wrist and gave your wrist a ghost kiss, uttering a soft whisper that he can only hear. As he kissed your wrist, he just stared at you. He kissed your hand, fingertips; he kept staring at you.

            As he looked at you with a soft gaze, he pulled you closer to him.

            “I’m sorry.” He only follows Luffy’s orders but—somehow, even you’re not the captain—he follows you. “I’ll get stronger so, you won’t feel like you will lose me again.” He kissed your temples and wiped your tears, as you nodded.

            He stared at you for a while and his eyes lingered in your lips. Without a warning, he placed his lips into yours as you taste the sake he drunk from before. He hummed in your lips as you reciprocate the kiss, he placed his hand on your nape as he was eager to pull you closer to him if that was possible, while your hands roam around his body.

            His chest, neck, abdomen, arms, and biceps—it was explored by you—he pulled away as he settles his lips on your neck muttering your name while he does. Your hand fumbles his hair, as you hold him closer. He kisses and left marks on your neck, while indulge himself with your scent.

            You tilted your head as you gave him more space as his hand traveled in your kimono, pulling it down softly. He pulled away from your neck as his hand travels in your kimono—slowly untying its knot. He whispered your name as low as he could: “Can I…?”

            Your hand travels into his nape as you nod. “Use your words, doll.”

            “Yes…Zo.” You hummed as he let his hand let loose of the knots in your kimono. “I fucking missed you.” He whispered lowly as his lips travel from your neck towards your collarbone.

            “I was just here, Zo.” You felt goosebumps as his hand travels every inch of your body. As his breaths shallows and his lips relaxes on your collarbone and chest. You whimpered his name so low; he’s the only person hearing it. He let his clothes fall on the floor as he lay you down on the futon. But he clicks his tongue as he felt a sharp pain on his chest in which you immediately pulled away.

            “We don’t have to---” He stared at you with flushed cheeks and half lidded eyes: as his eyes travels at everything that is you, he groaned and shook his head as he grabbed you by the hips switching your positions—making you straddle him. He smirked as he saw you on top of him with pride as he pulled you down for a kiss.

            “I fucking want you.” He holds your hips as he moved you in a rhythm. He hummed as you gasped at the pace. “Been looking for you when I woke up.” You felt him so close, despite the small clothes keeping you two apart.

            “You sure it wasn’t the sake?” You teased as you stopped your hips.

            “Take it off…” He whimpered.

            You never thought for a million of years that the pirate hunter would whimper under you—in hearing his plea: you take everything off your body including his: for a moment, the world seemed to stop as your hand travels into his new wounds. Your hand shakes as you saw new stitches.

            Before you can say anything—he grabbed your hand that was tracing his new wounds. “Eyes up here, doll.” He said into your fingertips—but unknown emotion filled you as your lips find his wounds, you carefully kiss them as blush continue to travel around Zoro’s body.

            “Oi…” He continues to repeat as you kiss his wounds. His gaze locks into you as you kissed him on his lower abdomen. He gave you a knowing look: “Come kiss me, woman.”

            So, you did. His hand travels into your clit as he continues to kiss you—as he pulled away: he stared at your expression whilst you stare at him, breathless, blushing mess, and muttering his name every chance you get. As he finds the right time to slip his finger inside you and it made you gasp. “Fuck—so, fucking warm.” He whispered in your ear as his fingers continues to mark your inside.

            He was slow in pace as if he was memorizing your sound, voice, expression, and your look. He kissed your temple as he feels you tightening up. “Great job…baby.” There are times where he lets himself be vulnerable and call you names, he thought he would never use.

            But as your hips meet his hands—he groaned as he moved his hand in a pace where you find yourself gripping his biceps—with one last move, you came undone into his hand as he kissed your temple; “My girl…” he whispered as he felt you shiver in his touch—he pulled his hand away and he kisses his hand while staring at you.

            You smiled and kissed him in his lips: tasting yourself in his mouth. “Better than any sake…” He whispered with a smirk as he continues to kiss your lips. He stared at you as his hand take hold of your hips once more as you aligned yourself into him—he slides his cock between your folds, he felt warm and you felt full.

            “Relax…” You didn’t know how or why or maybe because of the orgasm you had earlier but at the same time he felt bigger. As you settle into his cock, you stayed there as he looks at you. “Babe…” He called you like a prayer—without saying anything, you knew what he wanted. He flipped your over so, he’s now on top of you.

            “I got you—relax, doll.” He whispered in your ear as he stared at you. You pulled him for a kiss as he moves his body to meet yours. “Move…” He takes a short and slow thrust while he stared at your expression which let a small and deep growl out of him.

            As his impatient character caught up to him—he starts to get faster; your head thrown against the futon as you moan his name is if that’s the only word you know. Your hands find his shoulder as you pulled him closer. You’re too perfect for him, your walls were made for him—he finds your neck as he continues to suck and bite on it as you hold onto his shoulder as his make your inside fit for him and only him. At this moment, your name was the only thing leaving his mouth as breathless pleas, whimpers, sound of skin, and moans left the room—tears were stinging in your eye, Zoro noticed it he stopped with the fear that maybe he was hurting you but—it’s different, he saw your tears and you were smiling, you pulled him again for a hug but this time your hips met his. “I really thought I lost you.” You whispered in your embrace.

            That was his call—he holds you’re his hips as your legs wrapped around his waist—as his name left your mouth in a high-pitched whimper; he leaned in and kiss you once more. As he felt your walls claiming his cock again—he knew you were close and so was he; he reaches for your clit and move it with his thrust—without a second, you’re bound for the second orgasm from the hands of the swordsman. Your legs tighten up at his waist, as you arch your back and you feel yourself shakes. Your walls tighten around him as you keep saying his name.

            As you keep saying his name, Roronoa leaned in and kissed your shoulder—for a moment, he swore, he wants to keep you like this; only like this. He fills you up with his cock as his bite into your shoulder; he twitched inside—but he didn’t pull out, reliving and enjoying the warmth settling inside you. His heaving chest and your breathless state; you stared at each other.

            When you two catch your breaths, he pulls out as the both of you hiss at the loss contact. He kissed your inner thighs, chest, hand, head, and lips: uttering a thank you. His hand caress your inner thighs softly, as he kisses your temple over and over again.

            Before you can say anything—he leans down and kisses your lips as you smiled at the kiss. “Still better than sake?” You teased at his kiss.

            He nodded and kissed you deeper. “Still better.” You noticed that one of his stitches on his biceps were getting red—you’re scared that he can get infection— but he just laughed and pulled you into his chest. “I’ll get Chopper to check on it—in the meantime, let’s stay here.” His hands play on your hair as you listen to his heartbeat.

            “I was supposed to be in the bath with Nami.”

            “Hmmm…You could’ve push me away.”

            “You’re lucky that I like you.”

            “I know.” He nodded as he heaved a deep sigh. “Robin told me you didn’t went to sleep, when you’re looking out for me while I was out—don’t do that again, okay, doll?”

            “Just promise me you won’t get yourself killed.” He nodded as he placed your hand on his chest and gently kiss it.           

            “You always kiss my hand…why is that?”

            “I just like it. My hands are like filled with wounds and yours are soft, warm…” He kissed it again. “Mine…” He whispered. “You always hold me so softly.” He admitted.

            You looked at him as you rest your chin on his chest. “Any person should be hold softly and nicely.” He chuckled and shook his head. “With these wound and the swords, I highly doubt I’ll be considered as a person.”

            “What makes you think that…?” You frown.

            “I’m a monster, woman, so, sometimes it surprises me that you stay—"

            “Why do you think you’re a monster?” This time you sat up—he looked at you with a surprise look on his face a parallel to your caring look as his eyes travels on the marks he left in your body; he placed his hand on your shoulder.

            “I don’t see any monster.” You hold his hand that is placed on his shoulder. He always kisses your hand—so, this time, you kissed his.

            “I only see the person that I love.” You kissed his hand, in a delicate manner—as if he was a porcelain glass, a gift from above; he felt his eyes sting as he cleared his throat fighting the blush trying to settle on his cheek.

            “The things you me feel woman—The things you make me feel.” He muttered as he pulled you down for a kiss. You smiled at the kiss as he places his hands on your cheeks, without a sign or a signal; he muttered those three words and eight letters with a small tint of blush on his cheeks.

            “I love you too, Roronoa.”

-- FIN

holy shit--my first ever smut; if it sucks--i'm sorry :,> zoro the man that you are! trafalgar law is next and it's fluff--wano arc has me gripping all story ideas lmaooo

⚘ masterlist 1 | 2 | 3

[aneveningsword]

𝐃𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐲 '𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮'

pairing: Spencer Reid x gn! reader warnings: not proofread words: 832 summary: 3 different ways Spencer shows he loves you

masterlist

one Spencer often went away for long periods of time, it came with having a job at the BAU. Despite missing him and disliking how quiet your home becomes, you knew what you were getting into. You would never stop him from going on a case, no matter how little time you get to spend with him in between.

The longing for your partner was not onesided. There were times Spencer hated to be away for so long, to come home for a few days before leaving you again. He disliked how lonely he felt at night, the bed in the hotel felt too large without someone else there.

It's why he was out and about in whatever city he was in at the time. He would send you photos of things that remind him of you. Maybe some blooming flowers out front of a store. A dog that vaguely looks like you. A couple of birds sitting on a branch together.

Sometimes they would be accompanied by messages. 'thinking of you'. 'doesn't it kinda look like you?'. 'did you know these birds mate for life'. Just small facts or messages that always bring a smile to your face.

It helped ease the loneliness when he was away, knowing he was thinking of you just as much as you were thinking of him.

two While you weren't as much of a book addict as Spencer, you enjoyed reading. You often asked the man to recommend one for you to read. It always brought a smile to his face as he rambled on about the plot and characters, ensuring he did not give anything away. You read at a much more leisurely pace than your partner who could read large chapter books like it was a small letter.

Sometimes you were a bit jealous of his ability to read so fast, not wishing to wade through a large part of the text before getting to the exciting part. But you could not help but enjoy curling up in a chair with a cup of tea and a good book.

Persuasion by Jane Austen was the book you were currently reading, being recommended after expressing a desire for a romance book. But as you read you began to notice small annotations hastily scribbled in Spencer's handwriting. Somewhere about the characters or the thoughts on the themes. But some were drawing parallels to your relationship.

The more you read the less the annotations became about the book and more about your relationship. You found it endearing, more reading the book to get to the next annotation than the next chapter. A stupid love-sick smile graced your face as your eyes skimmed over the writing squeezed in between paragraphs.

The sound of footsteps graced your ears as you quickly began finishing the page you were on. "Enjoying the book?" Spencer's voice rang out, wanting to ensure his recommendation was right. Glazing up at him from the book your smile only grew. "Yes, I am. But I find myself liking the annotations better."

It took a moment for Spencer to understand before the tip of his ears flushed red as well as his cheeks. His eyes flicked downwards as he grappled with what to say. Deciding to give him a break you speak again. "I find them very cute. Shows how much you love me."

three It wasn't often that Spencer had time to sleep in, not getting up at the crack of dawn to get an early start on his work. So, you wanted to do something sweet for him, and what was better than breakfast in bed? What you didn't account for was him waking up before you were finished.

Humming a tune to yourself, you failed to hear the patter of sock-clad feet on the floor. Too busy making sure you didn't overcook the eggs in the frying pan. When two lanky arms wrapped around your middle, it caused a squeak of surprise to be pulled from you. The spatula in your hand dropped onto the counter in surprise.

Soft, muffled laughter filled the room, a mop of brown curls invading your vision as Spencer buried his face into your shoulder. A small huff leaves you, realising your surprise is ruined. "You're meant to be asleep." You whined though a small smile played on your lips, enjoying the sleepy back hug you were receiving.

"Sorry, darling. I just missed you in bed." His voice was rough with sleep, clearly having only woken up moments ago to an empty bed and set out to find you. Reaching one hand up you ran your fingers through his messy hair pulling a small hum of pleasure from him.

"Why don't you go back to bed? I'll bring breakfast and we can spend the morning there?" You offer softly, it takes a moment before you feel a soft nod. Spencer untangling himself from you before trudging off to bed once more, a small lovesick smile on his face.

[death---dealer]

Instead of annoying Koba like you always do … you ignore him for an entire day … I already can see his reaction:😡🤬😤

bark bark

Title: Ignoring Is Bliss. Fandom: ( Dawn of the ) Planet of the Apes. Rating: T ( Mentions of aggression, some minor injury. ) Pairing: Implied! Koba x Human!Reader. Words: 2.8K+ Summary: Koba told you he did not want to speak to you anymore in the phase of a heated argument. You're only giving him what he wanted.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・●・○・

It was a crisp day and you were intent on enjoying it to the best of your ability. Even though you were well aware you were being intensely scrutinized with every move you made, every word that was spoken, every breath you took --- Even down to the minute details like the breeze and how it would shuffle your hair, how you would draw a deeper breath in with that breeze. All watched either in entertainment or unabashed hatred, it was hard to tell at times.

Tilting your head to the side at the Baby Apes scattered around your feet, you twisted your body in a display of power to the eyes watching you and brought the draw cord of your jacket forward to show what it did to the children. There were scatterings of brown fur, orange black and even some red as the crowd you were entertaining before the afternoon lesson, before Maurice arrived, began. Chimps, Bonobo, Orangutan and Gorilla eyes all lit up the same as you smiled at them, bringing the cord to stretch out and then releasing it to spring back in. They all hoo’ed in amazement as you tilted your head to the side in thought as they bunched around your waist in closeness, wanting to touch the item. The only reason why you were being watched like a hawk at the moment wasn’t even your fault! It was remarkable to you how Apes were just as grudge holding as Humans were, if not more as your eyes slid coyly towards the Bonobo whose one good eye was boring a deep and intense hole into your skull, it was hard to ignore with the glower he was sending your way from the topped perch they too council meetings on. The meeting broke over thirty minutes ago, but he was still there, opting to not follow Caesar, Rocket and Blue Eyes to continue more personal conversations that didn't center around the Colony itself. 

“Do NOT talk to KOBA ABOUT ANYTHING.” He roared in such a fashion as tears hit the back of your eyes as if you actually had any sentimental feelings towards the relationship that teetered on the tightrope between blatant hatred and aggressive toleration. In his own words, he was telling you to back off and to leave him alone, your shoulders drawing in on themselves as he had lunged only a few feet forward, but the movement itself was brute and lashed with irritation. 

The shine of his long canines that displayed themselves were enough to drench your entire body in a cold sweat as you swallowed, cowering back a bit until your back hit the wooden wall of the hut you two were standing in. He could pin you to it and rip your throat out. You wished your mind hadn’t thought of that as you were now preoccupied imagining if it would be a swift death or if he would make you suffer.

You had only made a passing comment that maybe his hunting skills needed some improvement after you had gotten some strenuous details out of him about the hunting trip, about how he managed to kill a bear and save Caesar and Blue Eyes. Not true in the slightest, but you made jokes about each other to filter out the otherwise tedious and smothering tension that was brought to light once Caesar granted you permission to stay. 

You left that night, not a word to be said but the moment you were out of view of the Bonobo, you let yourself shudder a sob out at the aspect that even if you considered him an acquaintance, you were nothing more than an ant to him and he’ll snap your neck the moment he had the chance, without recourse. 

That’s how it worked. You pestered each other. Well, more or less. You found it more enjoyable and you had the feeling that Koba only dealt with it because if he chose to lash at you, hurt you in any way, Caesar was going to have to put his fist down on one of his closest advisors. Koba had intense hatred for Humanity, but he also had great respect for the Ape King. 

Maybe even the milky white eye as well was setting your skin on fire, you chuckled to yourself and readjusted your crouched body just enough that he was unable to get any delectations from your face and only was able to see the scape of your back, the curve of your body dipping into a deep crouch, your feet arched accordingly as the baby Apes continued their inspection of your jacket.

You glimmered with happiness as you looked down at the young Apes, all too entranced by the draw band on your jacket as you pulled it out again, proceeding to let it snap back in again with a small ‘thwup’. Pride bubbled in your chest at the fact that the Koba was still staring right at you, your movements all too intentional and all too vile for him to really look away from, as was usually the case. 

He wanted to see your face, you knew from his disposition as you caught his movements out of your periphery. He'd moved alongside with you to now sit on the rock adjacent to him, a smile forming on your face from that but you were able to blame it on the young gorilla who snatched the draw-band right out of your hand and placed it curiously into their mouth. "Nooo," You laughed gently, letting your eyes peer up only for a second as your fingers fished the item out of the young's mouth with a mild, playful scold, "Not food. Plastic. Gross."

Maurice, a gentle grace himself, arrived only a few seconds later, sitting himself in his usual spot as he chittered for the young to come join him. With forlorn eyes, you watched each of them say goodbye to you in their own ways before bouncing towards him, ready for the afternoon lesson that followed the mid-day meal. You were not a teacher by any means, you could only keep their attention by showing them something they had never seen before, you were not well thought out, not in the way that Maurice was, but it was nice to help when you knew that your other favorite activity to do was scolded and disallowed the night before.

With carefully placed feet as you knew the rock got incredibly slick during the wetter months, you trailed downwards towards the bonfire, snuggly warm and ablaze with large frames in the middle of the Colony. The flames stretched into the sky and despite that small trinkle of rain that caught the wind and brought it downwards, the fire refused its relentless pace and was quite literally a warm welcome against the chill of your cheeks as you drew nearer.

You'd consider your mission of the day a complete success after the last biting words that you had gotten from Bonobo himself the night before, you thought to yourself and admired the blaze for only a minute, letting the heat soak into the pores of your skin in a delicious way that left your retinas feeling hot and without moisture. You replayed the topic Koba spat at you last night, all the implications there that he didn't want anything to do with you any more.  That he never wanted to talk to you again.

Deep down, you knew it to be a farce, he enjoyed arguing with you too much to really draw a close to the pastime but you were simply giving him what he wanted by ignoring him the entire day, trying your best to ignore the looks you got at breakfast as you chowed down with Lake and River, the absolutely abysmal stare that you got when you waved them goodbye afterwards, Lake off to tend to her business, River off to go fishing with Blue Eyes and Ash. You were invited, but declined when you decided that the mud and the weather weren’t up your alley.

So, instead you lingered around, looking for things to do. Not much, you had to admit. But, just enough to keep the set of eyes on you entertained. If he wanted you to ignore him, surely you could do that, but you’d make a show out of it.

 Ignorance was always bliss. Unless you were Koba. Then ignorance was a waste and he needed immediate satisfaction in situations to feel good about himself. 

You had skipped lunch in favor of playing with the babies, a well deserved skip as there was nothing quite like having the attention of so many on you at once. Plus, the eyes of another really big baby, if you thought about it that way. Your hungry gaze scanned over a few wicker baskets that had been set out to be grazed upon. Curiously, you reached for a blueberry, the color all too alluring but before it made its way into your mouth, it was viciously slapped, rolling onto the ground below.

Following it, you traced the movements downwards, the rock slightly slanted under foot until it got caught in a crack. Blinking, you recognized that hand - the calloused and ridged fingers that performed the action. Mouth ajar, you looked over, eyes ample, the expression clearly that of surprise as you hadn't even noticed Koba leaving the perch, much less making his way all the way down here to perform such a petty action. And you thought that only Humans did that, at least in Koba's mind. "What the hell?" "You have..." He huffed, "Been ignoring Koba?”

"No?" You feigned innocence and rolled your eyes, bringing your hand down to grasp at another berry. Cautiously this time, you knew he was watching you and you were sure to make the allure of your curved body all the more interesting to him. "What makes you say that?" Silence. You grabbed a handful of berries to take on the road, but they were scattered onto the dirty ground below, probably to be squashed into oblivion by other Apes who traversed the area. A small whine left your lips, your body reactant as you went to pick them up,"That was my lun----" You were being dragged. Picked up into a standing position and dashed to the right.Harder and faster than you were really able to keep up with, your eyes widening on the back of the Bonobo's head, from the proximity, rare with him in the first place, you could spot the sprinkling of gray against his blackened fur. A minute detail you found amusing until you were torn to shreds back into reality.  Your mind went straight to panic.

He was going to take you into the woods and kill you for playing a stupid petty human game, you swallowed hard as he rounded the fish hut, contemplating grasping at the pillar and holding on for dear life but argued against that as Koba could snap your arm off in one intended stroke of his hand. "Koba, I-I was just kidding!" You tried to get your feet skirted into the ground to potentially stop him but to no avail. The sleek rock underfoot gave no traction and your action only caused you to skirt along like you were gliding on ice.

 "S-Seriously, if you kill me, wouldn't it rather be over something that was actually worth it? So-Something you could justify to Caesar?" That gave him pause and you watched as the cogs turned in his head at the idea. Taking the second of non-movement as a blessing, you looked at the grasp he had on your wrist and felt a mild twinge of swelling start to encase the very fragile appendage from the aggression he put forth to get you to move along with him. Bad choice of phrasing, you muttered inside of your mind as he turned his face.

Your eyes entranced against the scarring aspects that everyone always saw first before you catered to your own delectation and swept your gaze along the deeply ingrained wrinkles that surrounded his nose, the slack of his jaw that was morbidly appealing to you, so animalistic that you’d let him touch you with his mouth if he so chose, just to see yourself and riddle away the idea that it was just as mean as the rest of him. You wanted to touch him, but the one time you had tried, he almost bit your fingers off and you were never tempted again. "Would…" Koba’s voice was hard than usual, maybe a bit joking if you wanted to be more optimistic. Which, you weren’t. He was about to murder you and then hang your skin up on a flag pole as a victory for Ape Kind. "Kill you for just being... human. Need no reason." He continued his movements, the gasp that rocketed through your entire body sent a hardened shaft of shock down your entire spine to rest very tediously in the small of your back, near your tailbone. You were in an area of the Colony you had never been one to venture into. Storage huts that were exclusively left alone unless an Ape really needed something there. Mainly, weapons. Your eyes widened at that. He was taking you to a storage hut and he was going to use a spear and---

You were released suddenly, but the momentum you had from his pulling left you flat on the ground, your face smashing into the rock below as you had no time to brace your hands down. You grunted loudly, feeling heat eradicating at your rib bones. It didn't feel like anything was broken, a small trickle of blood hitting your nose and running down your lips and off your chin from the sheer impact, but hey. It was better than being beaten to death by a Bonobo with a grudge against all Humans. “What the hell, Koba?!” The shrill of your voice dulled out the fact that you had actually called him by name, something rare as he had told you time and time again that you weren’t worthy of saying it.

The hackles along his shoulders frilled up, even more so than you had seen with a Chimpanzee like Caesar. It was mesmerizing to an extent, his fur so dark that it appeared viciously white as you scrambled onto your hands and knees, wiping your nose with another grunt before getting your feet to flatten on the ground below. You were swaying, but balance would come back you were sure as you hadn’t actually hit your head that hard. It dawned upon you as you took in the surroundings that Koba brought you here for privacy. No Ape interruptions, no Caesar sitting high above and watching, making a coy comment towards Koba about his relationship with you. If it were even a relationship. It was… You tilted your head minutely. A Tolerationship. 

“Why… Ignore Koba?” You groaned. 

“WHY?!”

“You told me to, you dumb Bonobo!”

You let your temper flare, and without remorse, your back was pinned to the thick wooden branches that made up the hut that was to your left, your shoulders unable to move as Koba had pushed back. Enough force to keep you pinned, but not enough to break anything. You had no time to react, even to breath as you felt your throat close up, Koba’s face coming in just to enjoy the scent of fear that was rising out of you, he fluttered with satisfaction at that, his good eye narrowing on your expression as you had balled up your face, scrunching it so disgustingly that Koba felt a draw to try to pry your eyes open so you were forced to look at him. Looking at the blood from your nose, Koba’s mouth salivated at that and he wanted to take pleasure to know what it tasted like but that thought was severely undercut the moment it took a glance at blossoming. 

“Not dumb,” The grasp he had on your shoulders tightened and you winced slightly, “Dumb Human for listening to Koba.”

Your mouth flew open. “W-What?”

He released you without another word, watching as you slumped against the wood and staggered to keep your balance. Content to leave it as is, Koba knew you were going to go into antagonistically introspection at the words he had just said and as much as he enjoyed thinking about causing you physical ailments, mental were just as fruitful and easier to come by under the gaze of Caesar. Swearing that he smiled at you, he turned away, hunching onto all fours and began walking upwards. Quickly, you placed your hands onto the wood behind you and propelled yourself forward. “What do you mean?” Koba stayed silent intentionally.

“What do you mean?” Silence. Suffocating.

“Tell me!”

Silence, and that's how remained.

[urlibragirl]

summary : you and eren were childhood friends, but you guys drifted apart. One day, Eren decide to stick the pieces back.

warnings/content : mdni!, fem!reader, jealous!eren, eren is a virgin, little bit of angst, p in v intercourse, unprotected sex, oral sex(m receiving)

word count : 1271

Sighing heavily, Eren rubbed his forehead as he tried to recall the events leading up to your falling out. You guys had been inseparable during childhood, always playing together and sharing secrets. But somewhere along the line, things changed. 

He remembered the day clearly, it was after Jean had joined your group of friends. There was something different about you, you seemed happier, more confident. And yet, at the same time, she seemed distant too. Like there was part of herself that kept hidden even from him.

Grinning widely, you clapped your hands excitedly as you talked to your friends about the tv-show you watched the night before. Your laugh echoed through the hallways, drawing attention from everyone around you.

You may have been known for being somewhat wild and carefree, but there was no denying that people enjoyed being around you. Even though Eren preferred quieter gathering, he couldn’t help but admire your ability to light up any room you entered. Watching you interact with others made your heart ache just a little bit more. 

He wished things could go back to how they used to be, but he knew that ship had sailed long ago. Instead, he forced himself to focus on his studies, hoping that one day he might finally gain control over his feelings. Little did he know, your paths were destined to cross again under unexpected circumstances.

One fateful evening during winter break, Armin hosted a party at his place which included most members of their original friendship circle. Despite initially declining due to personal reasons, Eren eventually caved in under pressure from Mikasa and Jean who insisted he needed some time off studying. Reluctantly agreeing, he arrived at Armin’s house.

As the night wore on and the party reached its peak, Eren found himself drawn to you, despite the animosity that had grown between you two over the years. With a determined stride, he made his way through the crowd until he stood in front of you, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Hey," he said, trying to keep his voice casual despite the butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

You glanced at him, “Oh, hey Eren,” you answered “It’s been a long time.”

You guys stood in awkward silence for a moment, the weight of your unresolved issues hanging heavy in the air.

“Look, I didn’t mean to ignore you or act like a jerk. It’s just that seeing you with Jean made me realize how much I missed having you around. We were best friends since forever, and suddenly, you were gone. I tried to move on, but my heart wouldn’t listen. So yeah, maybe I acted immaturely sometimes, but deep down, I was hurting too.” 

Your eyes widened in surprise as you listened to Eren pouring his heart out. You hadn’t expected such honesty from him. For once, he sounded vulnerable instead of aloof. “There’s also something I need to tell you,” you began, your voice barely above a whisper. “Something I’ve been wanting to say for quite a while now…” You paused for effect, taking a deep breath before continuing.

“The truth is, I’m in love with you. From the moment we met all those years ago, I knew there was something special between us. And as time went by, that feeling only grew stronger.” you finally said.

“But what about Jean?” Eren asked with a surprised tone. “Oh, with Jean it wasn’t anything serious,” you said. “It’s going to sound horrible but both of us needed someone to forget about the friend they were in love with, me with you and him with Mikasa, but apparently it wasn’t really effective”

“So why didn’t you say something?” he asked. “Well, I could ask the same thing to you Eren?” you answered, teasing him a little bit.

“I guess I was just scared,” he admitted sheepishly. “ Afraid that maybe you really had moved on without me – I’ve missed you Y/N,” he confessed, his voice shaking. “More than you’ll ever know”.

As your faces drew closer, the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in a bubble of intense emotion. Your hearts raced in unison, beating wildly against your chests as you prepared yourselves for whatever laid ahead.  Finally, after what felt like an eternity, your lips met in a tender, passionate kiss.

It was as if all the pent-up frustration and sorrow from your tumultuous past had suddenly vanished, replaced by a powerful wave of desire and affection. Time stood still as you were both lost in the moment, savoring every second of your long-awaited reunion. 

When you guys finally pulled apart, you gazed into each other's eyes, lost in the depths of each other's souls. "I love you, Eren," you whispered, your voice shaking slightly with emotion. "And I love you too, Y/N," he replied, his voice equally strained.

As your lips parted, Eren found himself struggling to catch his breath. This was new territory for him; he had never experienced such intense passion before. He looked into your eyes, wondering if she felt the same way. 

To his relief, he saw a mix of lust and tenderness reflected back at him. Gently guiding you towards the nearby bedroom, he led you inside and closed the door behind you. The room was dimly lit, casting eerie shadows across the walls. 

Undressing each other slowly, you were revealed in the sight of each other's naked forms for the first time. Despite being a virgin, Eren couldn't hide his excitement or nervousness. You sensed his apprehension and decided to take charge. 

Kneeling down beside him, you ran your hands up his thighs, stopping just short of his erection. Looking into his eyes, you gave him a reassuring smile before taking him into your mouth. Eren let out a moan as you teased him expertly, sucking gently on his cock while running your tongue along its length. 

Overwhelmed by pleasure, he reached down to touch your hair, encouraging you to continue. As you worked him over with your skilled tongue, he couldn't help but wonder how lucky he was to have found someone like you. 

Meanwhile, you moved up to straddle Eren's lap, grinding your hips against him suggestively. You wanted this to be special for him, and you intended to make sure it was. Slowly lowering yourself onto his hardened member, you gasped as you felt him slide inside your wet folds. It was tighter than he expected, but in a good way. 

You began moving up and down, meeting his thrusts halfway as you both sought release. The sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the air, punctuated by gasps of pleasure from both parties involved. Eren grabbed hold of your hips, pulling you closer as he buried himself deeper inside your warmth with each stroke. 

Your rhythm became faster and more urgent as you neared climax. Just when it felt like neither of you could take another moment, you both cried out in ecstasy, your bodies shuddering together as you reached orgasm simultaneously.

"Oh god," Eren groaned, his voice hoarse from exertion. "That was incredible." He pulled you closer, burying his face in your neck as he savored the scent of your skin. "I don't think I've ever felt anything like that before." You smiled contentedly, tracing gentle circles on his back. "Oh don’t worry, we're just getting started." 

With renewed energy, you two began exploring each other's bodies once more, lost in the heat of the moment. Every touch sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, heightening your senses and deepening your connection. 

a/n : i wrote this at 2 a.m, so there might be grammar mistakes sorry

[chillhi]

no footprints

The concept I had in mind here was how Null perceives himself. I gave him different clothes and hairstyles, hinting at a whole set of features but he doesn’t care for it. His feet are somewhat visible but no prints are made, he’s not walking anywhere either just some white void, not that it matters, the void is familiar anyways

rambling existentialism mention

I love ethereal sort of drawings with null, he gives a lot of room to explore challenging existentialism from his overall role in the game being able to leave but never doing so to his design where he only resembles a person but everything important isn’t visible.

I thought about him leaving, how he didn’t really get to leave on his own terms and his whole purpose for being in the game, didn’t even conclude in him saying goodbye to the player it was the developer. He never had a choice, sure he was in the spotlight but it didn’t matter, he was deemed worthless once the developer didn’t want him around no more. Horrifying everything he worked for was up to someone finding his entire existence entertaining all just a silly little game.

He didn’t want to take part in the game but he became the focal point when people dug around, him being there gave him a motive and just one location to do one thing, what now in the real world? I feel like the events of the game altered him to a degree where he internalized how little power he has over everything going around him. He’s now invisible to whoever came across him once he got out here he’s everyone but no one at once because he never makes an impact for anyone to discern who he is, the same as trying to remember a forgetful face, an amalgamation of features that didn’t matter enough to remember.

I like thinking about the possibility of living as anyone, not in the sense of him having the ability to morph his features but the concept of I can’t nor want to choose what he really looks like but because of the concept of endless mish mash of countless people that could mix up and end up being him, I want to choose being unable to find a fit whole design for him over my wanting of what he could look like. Anyways, just thought it was a cool idea how he acts as an entity that haunts the game but now that he’s out he’s a ghost, more entity than a person, ends up embracing what he was in the game since he’s done it for quite a long time

Wouldn’t it be interesting how he can actually be someone out there and no one would know? How he’d want to keep it that way. Instead of showing up in other games or media he becomes a person. I’d argue that’s one of the worst things he can end up being but there’s a sliver of beauty in thinking about figuring it out and living the way you want to whatever he does I sure do wish him luck, not the only guy living that way after all. Aimlessly living.

Just wanna say how out there it is to try and draw someone I can’t care to remember but still wishing for whoever I do come up with that could resemble someone to find their footing in the world. Not possible it could be null but it’s entertaining to think so

[strwberri-milk]

hiii!! since your ask box is open, how about the reader not being mc and rafayel being with since he thinks he'll never find mc again, but then yk according to the story line meets her. it's up to you to decide. feel free to ignore it. thank you🩷🌷

i hate angst [sob] /lh but i do think this is gonna go angst and stay angst bc,,,,i see the person he meets in the timelines basically being his true love and the one person he'll go back to no matter what :(( i decided to do like. idk reconcilation sorta at the end bc i think hed also feel bad for dating someone when he knew he couldnt love them as much as mc [sob]

You thought that Rafayel loved you and he just had a strange way of showing it. He's always been a little cold to the people around him, flippant and dismissive but when it comes to you he warms up just a little bit. He's never been cruel to you but you always feel like he's holding back. Sometimes, he loses himself a little, hands holding onto you tightly as he kisses you hard, puffs of his breath brushing up against your lips.

At the very least you never doubted his loyalty. You knew that he wasn't seeing anybody outside of you and he treated you kindly, even if you couldn't see all of him. He was just reserved and private and you respected that - you'd never pressure him into saying or doing something that he wasn't comfortable with because you love him.

One day, you meet his new bodyguard. She's kind and polite and unwilling to put up with Rafayel's antics, something you commend her for. You never had any reason to doubt her intentions because she never gave you any just cause, warming up to her just as quickly as Rafayel did.

It doesn't take you long to realise that something's different about her. Rafayel doesn't do anything outwardly strange but the way he starts to look at her and almost boyish shyness you see in her presence warns you of the inevitable. You hope that it's just because she's someone new, that he's just trying to figure out how to act around her but when he asks you to come over to talk as soon as you can you know what's happening.

He barely looks at you as he tells you he's enjoyed his time with you but he doesn't love you the way you need him to. You don't even need to ask him to know that it's because of her and as you drive home you're so unbelievably angry. You wish that he did something worse, that he had an affair and things were escalating between the two of them to give you the ability to be angry at him but you can't. He was honest and fair with you, recognising his feelings and leaving you before they became something harmful to you.

The breakup is amicable at least and Rafayel texts you another apology in addition to a basket of gifts to you. You choose not to respond, letting the basket sit outside for days until finally it disappears, rotting in bed as you try to work on getting over him.

It's months until the next time you see him in town, walking with the bodyguard. All the hurt comes back and you have half a mind to storm over and cuss him out but when you see the look on his face you take pause. He looks happy for once, something soft and innocent that you could never draw out of him yourself. She looks at him just as happily, the two of them seeming to have some sort of understanding that you'd never been able to achieve with him.

All the hurt in your chest dissipates. You love Rafayel more than anything and still do - it'll take you some more time to get over him and as much as watching him like this stings you know that all you've ever wanted was for him to be happy. You slowly come to accept the fact Rafayel couldn't be this happy with you and you're glad that he's found her.

Rafayel still feels guilty because in his mind, he led you on. He thought he'd never find her again but now that he has the weight of what he did to you is lessened. However, he knows that if he were in your position it'd hurt him as well which is what leads him to inviting you to one of his shows as a show of good faith. The two of you don't even talk at that show but when you offer him a slight smile and wave he's glad to know the two of you have come to some sort of agreement, finally able to put to those worries of his to rest.

[television-overload]

fate is the handspike

(an X-Files ficlet)

[Read on AO3]

Summary:

Starting on February 23, 1964, Teena Mulder begins to worry about her young son. At first, she thinks maybe he's wishing for a little sister, a wish that will be granted very soon. But he insists the little girl he talks to is called Dana, and she's too little to play, but she likes when he reads his books to her.

(fic below the cut)

i.

At first, Teena thinks it's cute.

"She's just a baby, mommy, she can't play yet," he'd say.

"Oh, is that right?" she'd reply, indulging him in his childish fantasies. Perhaps this was his way of asking for a sister. The other moms in the neighborhood often urged her to give Fox a sibling, citing a child's need for company and social engagement, but Fox had always seemed so happy to play alone. She's not on the best of terms with her husband at the moment, either, which complicates things.

But then there's times when she sees Fox on the floor, legs splayed out before him as he recites his favorite picture books to his imaginary friend, and she wonders if she ought to be worried. Just a little.

Dr. Seuss, Curious George, Clifford the Big Red Dog... The boy has a photographic memory. Though he's too young to properly read, he has a grasp on the basic plots and recounts them in great detail, turning the pages as he goes.

"This one is called 'Where the Wild Things Are,' Dana," he says, because his friend's name—he insists—is Dana. He turns the book in his hand and shows the colorful illustration on the cover to a patch of carpet on the living room floor. "Don't worry, it's not scary," he assures her. Her. It. Whatever it is he's spent his days talking to since late February.

When he tells the story, he uses his own name, instead of 'Max.' That's how she'd always read it to him, and that's the only way he knows.

"And Fox told the monsters to be still!" he narrates with enthusiasm. "He used a magic trick and looked right in their BIG yellow eyes, and they were all scared. They said Fox is the most wild thing of all, and they made him king!"

ii.

There was one night when she'd woken to find Fox standing in the corner of his room, speaking softly to the wall.

"Shh, it's okay, Dana," he soothed in his little voice. "Here, I'll sing you a song. Twinkle twinkle little star...."

She never tells Bill what she's seen. He's always too busy to notice himself. But others know.

"He's quite an imaginative young fellow," Spender notes, taking a draw from his cigarette as Fox rolls around in the grass outside the house in Quonochontaug. Since "Dana" learned to crawl, he's been even more preoccupied than usual. He shows her all his toys, tells her the names of all his action figures. He announces to his mother one day that he's going to teach Dana how to walk. That she can only stand on her own for a little bit right now, but she doesn't cry anymore when she falls down.

Bill, if he ever catches wind of this, must think he's talking about one of the other kids from Teena's ladies' group. But there's no "Dana" in this neighborhood. Not on the Vineyard, either. She's checked.

iii.

The day she finds out she's pregnant, a part of her wonders. Though her knowledge of her husband's work is small, she knows enough to gather that things she might have thought impossible, could in fact be possible. Perhaps her son had been having visions of his baby sister, long before she was even conceived. Maybe it had simply been a sign that he would one day be a big brother. Soon.

She'd long since dispelled thoughts of ghosts and hauntings and exorcisms.

He tells Dana all about the baby in mommy's tummy. He giggles and makes silly faces, pausing in between sentences, which she gathers must mean his friend has developed the ability to speak.

"Mommy, she said my name! That's right! Fox! Fox!"

iv.

When Samantha is born, "Dana" seems to disappear overnight. This, at least, supports her theory that he had simply been preparing himself for a new sibling, and after a few years, she's completely dismissed the issue. Fox shows no other signs of strange or unusual behavior. He is nothing but a doting big brother, who occasionally gets annoyed by his freckle-faced kid sister, as any brother is wont to do. He reads to her, plays games with her, watches the television with her. They're two peas in a pod, and not once does the name "Dana" escape his lips. She is all but forgotten.

Until he's twelve years old. Samantha is gone, and Teena lacks the patience to deal with his questioning.

"Mom? Does the name 'Dana' mean anything to you?" he asks.

"What? Of course not, Fox, why would you ask such a thing?"

He looks down at his feet, shoulders slumping. "No reason. Forget I asked."

v.

When Fox lays awake at night, the bedroom next to his now dull and empty, he thinks he can hear a voice. It isn't Samantha's—though he'd thought so at first.

"By heaven, man," she reads, "we are turned round and round in this world, like yonder windlass, and Fate is the handspike. And all the time, lo! that smiling sky, and this unsounded sea!"

What does this girl know about fate? What does she know of this upside-down world?

"Read the next chapter, Dana!" he hears another girl's voice speak. The words are faint—muffled—like he's underwater. But her voice is clear.

He falls asleep, like most nights, listening to the tales of Ahab and Starbuck, and a great white whale.

-.-.-

Tag List ♡: @today-in-fic @agent-troi @baronessblixen @captainsolocide @cutemothman @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @hippocampouts @invidiosa @numinousmysteries @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @teenie-xf @thursdayinspace

[the0racl30fd3lphi]

More than friends, less than lovers. x.t

pairing: xavier thorpe x gn!reader

summary: the whole hyde ordeal has faded slowly in the background as life carried on, the student body ready to grasp onto some new drama. luckily for them, a love triangle is exactly what they needed to fuel the gossip.

warnings: fluff, angst, love triangle (kinda)

a/n: y'all this idea literally came to me at 4 in the morning so please bear with me (as i also wrote it at the ass crack of dawn) i am so obsessed with percy and xavier and wanted to write this desperately, he is all i can think about.

word count: 1,727

part 2 part 3

——————————————————————————

You hated this. This, stage, between what you were and what you could be. Xavier was your best friend. He always had been, truth be told. Yet as soon as he broke up with Bianca your relationship had a shift. Suddenly somethings had a deeper connotation, a hidden meaning. You didn’t hate it. In fact, this was exactly what you had been waiting for for years. Until She came along.

You didn’t hate Wednesday, unfortunately. She had done nothing to spark your anger. It wasn’t like she was purposely making Xavier adore her. It looked like she would rather be without it, being honest. But did it annoy the hell out of you that he was so enamored with her so quickly, when she did nothing to give the idea that she would reciprocate? And yet he seemed to not want to give up on her? While simultaneously leading you on, making you believe you might have a romantic future with him? And being oblivious to the pain it caused? It was the only thing you ever thought about.

Genuinely, you wondered how he could still be so obsessed with her to buy her a phone, after she wrongfully got him imprisoned. If that wasn’t a walking red flag you didn’t know what was.

You and Xavier had stayed close throughout this internal turmoil you went through. It hurt like a bitch, but you’d be damned if you lost him over a girl he liked. Suppressing your feelings wasn’t anything you were stranger to, there were other ways to get out your thoughts.

Something you did often, that you’d never tell him was how frequently you abused mimicking his ability. At first he had found it interesting and expressed he had no problem with you copying his habits. But if he knew what you used it for he’d probably be mad.

Each night, after leaving his dorm and sneaking back into yours, you drew a photo from that day. What he looked like when he smiled. How he laughed. Taking into extreme detail his face, scrunched, while watching a show together. Though you weren’t really watching the show so much as watching him.

You kept these drawings in a box, under your bed, all the way in the back. It was hidden enough to never be seen or touched by anyone. So you used the late Rowan’s telekinesis ability to bring it out and put it back. Was this a healthy coping mechanism? Oh not at all, seeing as some drawings that originated from the latest of nights and most intimate moments, would have made Wednesday blush. Of course it's all innocent, right up until you put it down on paper.

"Drawing lover boy again?" Your best friend Val, barked at you from across the room.

"Lover boy? That's a new one," you softly put the new drawing of him in the box, and back under your bed in the furthest corner. "Not such an accurate name this time, you're losing your touch my friend."

"Well you wish it was, so close enough in my book," She shrugs and jumps onto your bed.

"Close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades," you pull your laptop on your lap, and press play on your favorite show to watch together.

"You sound like your father," She gags and you playfully slap her arm before shushing her and cuddling into her side.

——————————————————————————

It was lunch the next day, you had a free period the class before so you were waiting for Xavier to show up at your usual bench in the quad. He was taking a little bit longer than normal so you started early on your homework.

"If it isn't Xavier's little girl," she paused. "friend."

"Bye Bianca," you waved and put the volume up on your phone.

“Where is he this time? With Wednesday maybe?" she crossed her arms and smiled maliciously. "It's already started!" She laughed.

You tried to mind your business, she only ever wants to cause problems and you know this. "What's started?" you kept your eyes on your work, putting the volume lower to hear her better.

“He's bored of you. Just like when he got bored of me and you two got closer? He's onto Wednesday now, and done with you." She raised her eyebrows and put on an innocent doe-eyed look. "Well, anyway, have a good lunch!"

She walked away and went back to her friends. You didn't want to believe it. Would Xavier really replace you with Wednesday? He couldn't, he wouldn't. Even when he was dating Bianca, sure you hung out less, but you were still in his life. She was just trying to get in your head right?

“Sorry I'm late, got a little held up in class," He put his stuff down next to him and grabbed some food from the lunch you packed for the two of you. Cooking had become a stress habit for you, so nightly you sneak into the kitchens and prepare something for the next day.

“What kept you?" You put your stuff in your bag and grabbed a snack from the pile.

"Class, I said that didn't I?" He talked through a mouthful of food.

“Yeah but, what kept you? The teacher? Extra work?” you tried to press while eating your half of the lunch.

“Uh, just some extra credit work, wanna bring my grade up you know?” His answer was strained, and his eyes looked anywhere but at yours. So you followed his gaze, to Wednesday.

“Yeah, for sure,” You mumbled and went back to eating. Even if you wanted to escape him for another hour, to try and calm the thoughts in your head, you couldn’t. You two had the same class next period and you always walked together.

——————————————————————————

The day felt strained, any conversation with Xavier fell off track and eventually died out too soon. It’d been too long since this pattern started. Ever since she came to Nevermore, things slowly got worse between you two. You weren’t as close as before and it killed you.

So like every night, afraid to break habit, you snuck out of Xavier’s dorm to hang out. Right before you were going to knock on the door you heard two hushed voices in the room.

“You can’t keep doing this Xavier, you’re hurting her.” a voice pressed him for answers, sounding upset.

“We’re fine, Ajax.” Xavier fought back, offended anyone would accuse him of doing anything to hurt you.

“How dense are you that everyone can see it, but you?” Ajax stressed the end of his sentence still trying to be quiet.

“See what!” Xavier was getting increasingly agitated.

Your grip on the handle faltered and it wiggled just loud enough for both boys to notice it. Suddenly the door was opening and you smiled sheepishly at Xavier, “Hi.”

“I’m gonna leave,” Ajax looked between the both of you and you moved out of the way for him to exit. He sent one last glance Xavier’s way before he closed the door and went back to his dorm.

“Sorry, did i interrupt anything?” You apologized, still feeling the tense air.

“No,” He ran a hand through his hair in the same manor that always drove you crazy. “Nothing important.”

And just as quick as your conversation, Xavier went to sketching as you made yourself comfortable in his bed with your book. How quickly he could make your heart speed up and then break it felt like a world record now.

——————————————————————————

It’s been two weeks now since you accidentally overheard Xavier’s conversation with Ajax that night. Things hadn’t changed between you two, and you can’t figure out if that’s a good thing or not yet. Val had been pushing you to just confront him about your feelings. She knew letting them simmer inside was doing no one any good.

So on a night similar to that one fateful evening, you mustered up the courage to finally ask him what you meant to each other.

“Hey Xavi,” you asked, leaning slightly to the side now as he turned around from the mural he was painting on his wall to look at you. “What do I mean to you?”

He seemed to freeze, face tinting slightly rosier, whether it was blush or anger you didn’t know yet.

“What do you mean?” He dipped his brush in the cup he used to clean them, going right back to his art. It made you study his face, his posture, before continuing your question.

“I mean, I know what you mean to me. I know what i feel for you,” you felt emboldened by seeing him try and play off his nervousness watching him tense and straighten his back. “But I don’t know what I am to you.”

He paused and blinked, it looked like he was going to say something but he made no move to speak. After two minuets he finally opened his mouth, “Where is this coming from? You’re my best friend, you’re.. I..” He trailed off.

“But it’s more than that. More than friends,” he flushed pink, taking in a large gulp. “But less than lovers.” His grip turned white on the brush as he slumped slightly. Still he made no move to speak, so you turned away and went to collect your things. Nothing was said between you two as you packed up what you brought and slung your bag over your shoulder.

As you slipped out the door and into the shadows, mimicking a poltergeist you had once seen and turning yourself almost completely invisible. No one could even hear you breath and you floated through the halls back your dorm.

And in the faint night hair, before you left the wing his dorm was in, you could’ve sworn you heard him call your name and try to get your attention. But it was futile as you just sped up and got back to your dorm quicker.

Val said nothing as you slumped into your bed, rolling your stuff off the side and curling up with a blanket in your arms. She must’ve been able to infer what happened, and she climbed in next to you to hold you as you silently wept. Not even a shake ran through you as the tears fell. No one could hear the sound of your heart shattering that night.

[theotherbuckley]

This is payback for the 40 something sentences btw

👧🏼👧🏼👧🏼👧🏼👧🏼👧🏼👧🏼👧🏼👧🏼👧🏼🚁🚁🚁🚁🚁🚁😘😘😘😘

I brought this upon myself.... i have many regrets.

👧🏼 - dad!buck teacher!tommy (bucktommy)

“Daddy’s coming?” Bella asks, looking up at Buck with the biggest puppy eyes.  “Not today, baby, you’re at big school now!” He replies, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Come on! I’ll show you where your class is,” Christopher says enthusiastically, offering up a simple wave to Carla before he starts walking towards the classrooms, looking back towards Bella when he realises she’s not following. “Daddy has to come,” she begs, grasping on to Buck’s leg and holding on for dear life.  Buck honestly didn’t expect Bella to cry when he went to leave — frankly, he thought he’d be the one crying, watching his girl all grown up. Bella was never really the shy kid, always happy to meet new people and do new things. She could talk to strangers for hours about the most outlandish things. The other week they were at the zoo with the Diaz’s and Bella had walked up to the zookeeper, asking 100 different questions about sea otters which had become Bella’s latest hyperfixation for about a week. Buck had watched her talking away, smiling fondly. He had turned to Eddie shaking his head saying he didn’t know where she got it from to wish Eddie gave him a very pointed look and said, “Seriously?” So apparently ADHD is hereditary.  Point is, he didn’t really plan on Bella clinging to him the way she was now, and he didn’t know what to do. He’d do anything for his daughter, and watching her look up at him as she clung to his pant leg, made his heart break. He was helpless to do anything but walk up to her classroom with her.  They followed Christopher into the school, taking twists and turns that had Buck worrying how he was going to get out of this maze when he left. Chris finally stopped at the door of a class that had a bright pink number 5 cut out stuck to the door.  “Are we absolutely sure this is room five?” Buck joked upon seeing the sign. Bella looked up at him, hand still gripped tightly to Buck’s and said, “Yeah, Daddy, see! Number five!” she said, pointing to the door. They’d been practising number’s recently, Bella already surpassing Buck’s mental arithmetic ability by being able to add 5 and 7 — Buck still had to use his fingers. She definitely inherited her mother’s ability for math.  A second bell rang loudly in the hall, causing Bella to jump slightly in his hold. He squeezes her hand gently a few times to comfort her before looking towards Chris who still needed to get to his room. “See you later, Bella!” Christopher says, turning to walk down the hall towards his own class. “Come on, Bellie,” Buck said, guiding Bella into the class. There were about 10 other children sat at desks in the class, a few still with their parents which made Buck feel better about coming into the room with his daughter — not that he would leave anyway, not until he knew his daughter was happy. Noticing some cubby holes at the back of the class, Buck ushered Bella towards them to put her bag down.  Distracted by getting Bella into the desk that had her name on it, and getting her settled, Buck never stopped to look at the front of the class towards the teacher. When Bella had finally let go of his had, now apparently forgetting his existence and chatting very enthusiastically to a boy sat beside her, Buck looked up to see Bella’s teacher drawing in big letters on the whiteboard.  Buck has no idea how he missed him walking in because the man was huge. Buck thought his arms were huge as a firefighter but holy shit… apparently being a teacher makes you built like a fucking tank. The man was writing in curly letters on the board, spelling out “Mr. Kinard”. Once he’d finished he turned to face the room. Buck instantly noticed his deep blue eyes and the cleft of his chin that painted a very lovely picture for him to look at. The man caught his eye for a moment and smiled, the corners of his eyes and nose scrunching with smile lines that Buck felt completely normal about.  Buck had to clamp his mouth shut when he realised that he’d been staring, slack jawed at the objectively very handsome teacher.

🚁 - helicopter crash s8 (bucktommy)

The siren blares loudly above his head, some suburban house fire or something. Buck only half registers it, still stuck staring at the screen in front of him. He’s distantly aware of Eddie calling for him but he just can’t right now. He can’t. Captain Gerrard moves in front of the TV, forcing Buck to snap out of his gaze. “Get a fucking move on, Buckley,” he practically spits. Buck moves mechanically, forcing himself out of his chair and following his captain down towards the fire engines.  “Can I— Can I be man behind this time?” Buck says, his voice sounding small to his own ears.  “No,” Gerrard replies simply, not even turning to look back at him.  Johnson had been the man behind all day, apparently in punishment for failing to adequately wash the fire engine. Buck knew that the real reason was because Gerrard caught his boyfriend dropping him off in the morning.  “Please,” Buck says again, hating the way his voice breaks in the middle. He can’t focus right now — he’d be useless as a firefighter at the scene. It would be safer for everyone if he stayed back. Please— “Get in the truck,” Gerrard shouts at him. 

😘 - pet names 10+1 (bucktommy)

Buck swallows. “What-whatever do you mean, sweetums?” Buck says, before wincing immediately. “Okay, okay,” Buck relents, “I’m trying out pet names. And they’re not going great, especially not sweetums.” Buck cringes again. “But, I will come up with a good one. Just you wait.” Tommy’s expression turns fond as he stares at Buck with the cutest look Buck thinks a man could possibly make. “Baby, you don’t have to give me a pet name. Tommy’s fine,” Tommy says sincerely. “Besides,” Tommy says, lips quirking up at the edges. “I kinda like hearing you moan my name.” Buck trips through the door.