#like it's clear he doesn't really do it often maybe?

[invinciblerodent]

Originally, I was going for "Victorian orphan child whose presence gives you an immediate and uncontrollable desire to feed him soup" for his face (and I gave up on that fairly quickly, when I realized there aren't any passably 1800's sideburns that I liked in the CC), but with each cutscene, I'm becoming more and more certain that I just landed square in "beautiful --if somewhat alarmingly thin-- sad-eyed boy in a K-drama who earnestly and effortlessly quotes poetry about death and the moon, and somehow makes it sound romantic as hell" territory

............... soup-feeding is not out of the question tho

[deviousdiesel]

.

[sunderwight]

Modern AU where Shen Yuan accidentally sugar-daddies everyone.

So for the purposes of this, Shen Yuan's family is basically $10 Bananas levels of cluelessly rich. Shen Yuan has almost never had to look at the prices of anything he wants. He and his siblings all get an allowance from the family's main account, which increases when they reach adulthood, and in the interest of fairness his parents made it all the same size. So Shen Yuan gets the same amount of money for his daily living expenses as his older brothers with their penthouse apartments and vacation homes and private jets, at least from the family account (since he doesn't work, he doesn't actually make as much as them in total because they earn more on top of their allowances).

And the thing is, Shen Yuan genuinely just lives a lot more humbly. He likes people but what would he do with a vacation house? Anything really nice would probably require him to fly to get out there, and he gets sick as hell on planes. Living in the central city is also not great for him, because the air pollution is so bad. Having a whole house to himself would also be ridiculous. So he has a reasonable apartment, in a reasonable area, and he splurges every so often on purchases that make him happy and take-out food that he likes, and of course he pays a cleaning service to come in twice a week. Most people assume he's comfortably middle class and has some tech job he does from home, but he's been getting a lot more than he's been spending in his monthly allowances for years now, and the figures are big.

Enter into this environment author Airplane and his trash novels. Novels, multiple, because in this AU there's no PIDW, and instead after some alternate PIDW prototype got popular in the harem genre, Airplane decided to churn out a series of copy-paste shorter stories rather than recycling the same subplots in one massively long epic.

Shen Yuan of course discovers Airplane's writing and becomes as obsessed with it as ever, except this time he notices that if there are delays between new stories, they seem to clear up faster whenever he throws some cash at the problem. And also that the drops in Airplane's writing quality coincide with times when Shen Yuan was having health issues and not keeping up with his VIP purchases. So, he works out that Airplane's probably doing the writing for the money, and that when Peerless Cucumber isn't paying the most for it, Airplane starts listening to the other buffoons in the comment section more to try and entice them to pay his bills instead.

Peerless Cucumber leaves a comment on one of Airplane's latest stories that kicks off the two of them actually chatting, and Shen Yuan eventually gets to the point of offering to fund all Airplane's writing, in exchange for Airplane not doing his crap sellout stuff to appeal to other readers anymore. Airplane thinks he's joking or maybe mocking him. Shen Yuan asks how much it would cost. Airplane fires off a ridiculous number. Shen Yuan doesn't even blink and wires him the first payment. Then he gets annoyed because Airplane leaves him on read for a while, but that's because Airplane is staring at his account balance in shock.

Of course, it's Airplane who starts referring to Peerless Cucumber as his sugar daddy. Shen Yuan is just like "based on your sex scenes I don't think anyone would pay you for that" and Airplane's all "but you WOULD pay for my sex scenes ^_~" and Shen Yuan's like "technically I am actually paying you not to write that shit" and so on. Usual banter. The quality of Airplane's writing improves dramatically, a lot of his readership drops off but he does get new readers and gradually builds up an even bigger fanbase than before, and so on, it all goes pretty well. He eventually writes a few things that take off to the point of getting physical publications and international translations. Technically Airplane no longer needs Shen Yuan to pay all of his bills by that point but he's not going to tell Shen Yuan that! The contract's still good as long as he keeps writing!

Then one of Airplane's online acquaintances runs into some financial trouble and asks for help.

Liu Mingyan used to beta read for Airplane back when he wrote fanfiction (she was like thirteen, Airplane was unaware because internet and hey free beta), and it seems her family has hit a rough patch. She wants tips on how to go pro, but Airplane explains that it was extremely difficult and he mostly lucked out by finding a single wealthy backer. Mingyan wonders if the same guy would be interested in her writing, Airplane sadly thinks not because Mingyan exclusively writes kinky danmei erotica and Peerless Cucumber seems pretty firmly in the closet still and also generally prefers plotty and world-building heavy stuff.

But like, Airplane has definitely gotten a vibe off of Cucumber-bro, and Mingyan's gorgeous older brother does video streams of himself doing cool martial arts and swordsmanship stuff. So he asks her permission and when she gives it, he recommends Liu Qingge's videos to Shen Yuan, being sure to mention that the guy in question can't really afford to keep up with his hobbies and oh what a shame it would be if he had to stop making art like that.

Haha, Airplane, you're not subtle.

Even so, Shen Yuan watches the videos and immediately agrees that Liu Qingge is beauty in motion, and that it would be criminal to deprive the world of more videos of his sword. Swordsmanship! That is the, the art of, martial arts! Definitely. He clicks the donate button, reasoning out that he'll just send a donation about the size of his usual monthly payments to Airplane and call it his good deed for the day.

Liu Qingge is very confused by this new follower from nowhere who suddenly dumped a little over a month's rent into his account. One thing leads to another, with Mingyan and Airplane conspiring to try and get Shen Yuan as a permanent patron, and then Liu Qingge being let in on it. Except that Airplane keeps referring to Shen Yuan as his sugar daddy, and well... it's not like Liu Qingge doesn't ever get 'those' kinds of comments on his videos. At first he's embarrassed, then offended, then mortified that his own younger sister is apparently setting him up to make premium private videos for what he assumes is some old pervert who is going to want him to do untoward things.

However, their options are pretty bleak at the moment, and Liu Qingge worries that if he doesn't do this then Mingyan might. She even mentions something to the effect of having planned to offer herself, and only didn't because she wasn't this "sugar daddy" guy's type!

Teeth clenched, Liu Qingge asks Airplane stiltedly for advice on how to... appeal, to this wealthy benefactor.

In the end though it's not nearly as bad as Liu Qingge feared. He winds up doing more videos in costumes and cosplay, which ought to have been an untenable expense, but Peerless Cucumber always ends up covering the cost of whatever he invests in plus extra. Sometimes he sends Liu Qingge stuff with a request to wear it, but so far it's just been like, badass warrior-themed or historical costumes. Nothing overtly pervy. He does some LARPing, he makes enough to start doing horseback archery again, convinces some of his good-looking peers from various clubs to spar with him, and ultimately the most risque videos he ends up doing are the ones where he demonstrates how to put on certain kinds of gear. He still locks those ones behind paid subscribers only, mostly because he feels like he's doing something illicit now, even if he used to show more skin on his older videos any time he took his shirt off.

Peerless Cucumber doesn't leave creepy comments, either. In fact he seems genuinely nice and supportive, it's hard not to like him, and so even once his situation levels out Liu Qingge decides there's not really much need to stop making videos for him. (He maybe even gets a little giddy thrill over... well, sometimes he finds it all a bit... just when he thinks about Peerless Cucumber watching him demonstrate his physical prowess and finding that alone worth... ANYWAY--)

So that goes on for a while, before Yue Qi enters the scene.

Yue Qi is the childhood friend of one of Shen Yuan's older brothers (Shen bros!) and Shen Jiu owes him a big favor for something that he won't talk about. At least he won't talk to Shen Yuan about it. But Yue Qi is also not the type to ask for help, and Shen Jiu is very bad at offering it, so when Shen Jiu gets word that Yue Qi is having some difficulties making ends meet, he tells Shen Yuan to act as the middle man. Go offer Qi-ge money, he knows you're nice he'll just accept it, and then Shen Jiu will pay the actual bill.

Well it turns out that Yue Qi doesn't just accept it, of course he sees right through it, and gently but firmly tells Shen Yuan that he's not interested in burdening Shen Jiu further than he already has. Etc, etc, stoic stiff upper lips and no proper communication all around. Shen Yuan panics because it's not working and he's also genuinely worried about Yue Qi by now, so he tries to figure out how to make it compelling and basically blurts that, well, see, the thing is that sometimes he pays men to entertain him. You know. To like. Do things, for him. So. He could also pay Yue Qi? To do something for him?

Yue Qi gets the wrong idea entirely, and at first is like, oh, no, A'Yuan, you shouldn't be paying people for that! These things should just happen organically! But Shen Yuan is very adamant that he believes in compensating people for what they do for him, it's not like he can't afford to, and it gets awkward but Yue Qi is like well he does have health problems. It's perhaps difficult for him to meet people. So then he starts worrying about Shen Yuan and all these strange men he's apparently paying for "entertainment". Does his brother know about this?

No of course Shen Jiu doesn't know! He'd hate it, and Shen Yuan doesn't want to hear about how he's doing everything wrong with his life again!

Then Shen Yuan mentions that his prior house cleaning service up and quit on him (they didn't), and if Yue Qi would like to earn fair compensation he could just come over sometimes to help instead, and Shen Yuan would pay him just to tidy up and hang out for a few hours! Which Yue Qi thinks is a fantastic idea, actually, even if Shen Yuan is only doing this because of his brother, this will give Yue Qi a chance to keep an eye on him and his so-called entertainers. Even if he sort of... ends up also being one?

Shen Yuan keeps everything above board, though his apartment always seems perfectly clean and he overpays way too much (Shen Jiu is still footing this bill after all), and Yue Qi starts to think maybe he actually is being paid for intimacy. Of a sort that they're maybe still working up to? Shen Yuan usually has a very thin face after all. He's kind of got two minds about this prospect. On the one hand, he's got his situationship with Shen Jiu, so dating his brother would be absurd. But on the other hand, it's not actually dating, and he does like Shen Yuan, and maybe if they can be good company for each other then Yue Qi won't feel so depressed and Shen Yuan won't need to hire strange men so often.

Meanwhile it's come to Shen Yuan's attention, perhaps through an offhand comment he read online somewhere, that people who are struggling financially often also struggle to "treat themselves". Because even when they have enough money to be comfortable there's often the looming specter of deprivation, and etc, so he figures he should start buying some of his dependents more treats and things. Since they might not buy them for themselves? And also he's enjoying doing this but shhh no he isn't, it's a huge hassle, he's only doing it out of basic moral decency, etc.

So like, Airplane starts getting little things that he'd put on some public wish lists, clearly sent by Peerless Cucumber. And he tells Mingyan to make a list for Liu Qingge too, and sure enough, Liu Qingge (bewildered, slightly flustered) tries to figure out what he's supposed to do with an album from a band he likes and some high-end leather polish. Ultimately settles on playing the music and wearing his nicest leather in his next video. Yue Qi starts arriving at Shen Yuan's place to be plied with his favorite coffees and to have scented candles awkwardly foisted onto him (Shen Yuan does not know what Yue Qi likes in gifts) (he buys these presents himself they're not out of Shen Jiu's pocket).

So finally Shen Yuan's parents start to notice that he's been spending a lot more than usual, and start to worry that he's either been taken in by a scam artist or is secretly dating a gold digger or has developed a drug addiction or something. But asking things directly like normal people is basically illegal in the Shen family, so they decide to hire a private investigator.

Enter Luo Binghe, a young man of humble background who is struggling to make ends meet after the untimely death of his adoptive mother, and is using his P.I. job and his online cooking videos to help pay his way through school (scholarship student). Usually his cases are more like, cyberstalking someone to find out if they're cheating on their spouse, or helping someone planning a lawsuit accumulate evidence on their corrupt employer, or other things like that. When he gets the Shen Yuan case, the idea that the Shen family's son is paying for "company" is well within his list of probable answers.

Though this one is a little... peculiar?

Mostly because Binghe can't find evidence of Shen Yuan actually getting what he would, presumably, be paying for. At first Luo Binghe just goes through the online paper trails, using the info that the Shen parents give him to figure out that Shen Yuan is paying Airplane and Swordmaster Liu (*cough*) what seem to be exorbitant prices just for trashy fiction and cosplay videos. He assumes this is a cover, that someone's actually delivering drugs or going over for "private meetings" or at least actually sending dirty videos as well, but even when he pays for Liu Qingge's VIP access it's just tutorials and such. Neither of these guys are even on any of the sites that are more lenient towards hosting explicit content. Luo Binghe's aware that kinks aren't always obviously sexual, but people don't usually pay through the nose for the kind of content they can easily find for free all over the place, either.

He digs a little more but keeps coming up empty on evidence to clarify which of the many vices the Shen family's son is actually indulging in. Which is a problem because that's the information they're paying him to find out. Plus his curiosity kind of piques as he reads Shen Yuan's seemingly quite invested comments on Airplane's writing and Liu Qingge's videos, looking to see if there's any kind of clandestine code or pattern. But near as he can tell, whatever else Shen Yuan might be getting out of these arrangements, he does genuinely like the stories and videos too? Well. Sometimes. Sometimes he's actually scathingly vitriolic towards Airplane's writing.

Luo Binghe decides that surveilling Shen Yuan himself is probably the way to go. That gets more complicated in court cases, but since the Shen parents just wants to know what's going on and aren't planning on prosecuting their son for anything, it doesn't matter as much if Luo Binghe gets information in sneaky or underhanded ways.

So, Binghe uses the account he created to access Liu Qingge's videos to chat with Shen Yuan a few times, and then recommends his own cooking channel. Shen Yuan doesn't seem too interested in cooking, so Luo Binghe makes sure to include a video that has an image of himself in his recommendation, and then films a few new videos of himself cooking with his shirtsleeves rolled up to three quarters and a few more buttons than usual unbuttoned, adopting a more flirty persona than he typically does for his shows. He takes his cues from some of Liu Qingge's more popular videos for how to be enticing bait.

It takes a few videos, but eventually Shen Yuan comments. Luo Binghe latches onto the chance to start talking to him, playing up a persona of a vulnerable young man with little means who is trying hard to make it through school, etc, and sure enough Shen Yuan seems interested. Well, most predatory people like vulnerable targets, don't they?

However... Shen Yuan just sends him a chunk of money.

Luo Binghe is confused.

Isn't he supposed to ask for something or create some kind of expectation of repayment first? But, maybe this is his approach to handling new targets. Maybe he's just trying to lull Binghe into a false sense of complacency, before he starts indicating what he wants from all of this. Luo Binghe makes sure to move the money Shen Yuan sends him into a separate account, so that if the Shen parents get angry about it then he can return it as a gesture of good faith.

But Shen Yuan just keeps sending supportive comments and donations. Eventually he leaves a comment that alludes to how badly he'd like to taste Binghe's cooking, and Binghe is like finally, but when he implies that they could perhaps meet in person and Luo Binghe could thank him for his support by making him something, Shen Yuan backs off.

Things eventually progress to the point where Luo Binghe, who is a totally normal person treating this like a totally normal job still thank you very much, is basically camping out in the bushes in front of Shen Yuan's apartment building. At some point he conscripts the aid of his weird cousin (finding his birth family was how he got into this business initially), and then almost immediately regrets it because Shen Yuan helps get Zhuzhi Lang a job doing landscaping for his building.

Why would he want Zhuzhi Lang close but not Binghe? Binghe is much handsomer! He'd make an excellent target for seduction! >:(

Anyway eventually Yue Qi catches Luo Binghe lurking around like a creeper and is like, finally, I have caught one of these suspicious men, whilst Binghe is like oh so he does have a lover, well this guy sucks and is clearly not good enough for him, and they both try and chase one another off and Shen Yuan comes home to a heated passive-aggressive-politeness war being waged in front of his apartment. Eventually he realizes the misunderstanding and calls everyone together (zoom conference? in-person meet-up?) to clarify that he is not paying any of them for "special favors", that was just Airplane being deranged about his sense of humor, and then he has no idea what to do when the prevailing response seems to be disappointment.

[icecream4starscream]

Spoiler Warning for Transformers One. Please go see the film, it's great.

Something occurred to me when rewatching Elita-1's firing scene:

Right off the bat, she's presented as an absolute unit in the mines. We see her being a very by-the-book character. She's incredibly competent, strong, serious, focused, and an effective leader.

Maybe a little too effective.

We learn that Sentinel goes out of his way to personally take care of any "anomalies" in his system and does so in a way where the blame always gets shifted away from him.

It's why he personally went to see Pax and D-16 after the Iacon 5000 race. He makes himself out to be the open-minded, compassionate leader he's been parading as.

When Darkwing throws Orion and D-16 into sub-level 50, neither bot suspects Sentinel for their demotion. In fact, they beg Darkwing to talk to Sentinel so he can sort out the "misunderstanding".

It's later confirmed that Sentinel never had any intention of talking with Orion or D-16 after their first meeting. When Orion reunites with his fellow miners later in the film, they mention that Sentinel put out a statement saying that they both died from "racing injuries".

Sentinel might've not even openly ordered Darkwing to dispose of them. Darkwing might've been manipulated into thinking everyone was mocking him for losing the race (thanks to lowly miners) making him want to get rid of them.

Subconsciously manipulating someone like Darkwing would've been easy for Sentinel.

Sentinel clearly does not tolerate anyone rising above the station he imposes on them.

So what does this have to do with Elita-1 being fired?

We see her rigidly following the rules, meeting all quotas, running a tight and efficient crew. She's doing her job as a miner, a role unknowingly forced upon her by Sentinel, perfectly.

Shouldn't Sentinel be happy about that?

Well sure...

If Elita wasn't actively trying to get promoted.

We don't get a lot of information about how promotion works in TFOne's mining system, but we do know that in other iterations of pre-war Cybertron, one of the only ways miners could rise out of the mines was by participating in ridiculously difficult gladiatorial fights in Kaon's pits.

In other iterations, this was how D-16/Megatron was able to escape his station and how he grew to be so strong.

So basically, whatever version you look at, the miners are told "if you work really, reeeeally hard, and do your job perfectly, and don't die in the process (which, odds are, you will) you might, MIGHT get a chance to get out of the caste you were born into."

It's BS.

It's an impossible feat. No one is actually supposed to be able to achieve that goal, but it's the metaphorical carrot dangling in front of the work mules so they don't notice the ever-tightening rope around their necks.

But every so often there's someone extraordinary, like Elita, who actually manages to meet this impossible standard and with whom it becomes increasingly difficult to deny this coveted promotion.

So what can Sentinel do about bots like Elita-1?

Simple.

Wait for a screw-up.

It must happen eventually.

A member of Elita's team, Orion Pax, in clear violation of evacuation protocol, goes back into the mines to save Jazz from getting crushed to death.

Despite managing to escape, the closing mine causes a tunnel support to be flung into nearby machinery (which doesn't look critical and could probably be easily fixed).

Then, right the heck outta nowhere, Darkwing drops in, SECONDS AFTER THE INCIDENT JUST HAPPENED, and immediately fires Elita.

No "What happened?" or "Who's responsible?" or "The supervisor wants to see you", he just pops into the scene and demotes Elita, arguably one of the best workers in the mine, to a bottom-tier waste management position.

As if he'd been on standby, actively waiting for a reason to fire her.

"But Elita herself wasn't the one who screwed up!"

Doesn't matter.

"But she told them to follow protocol!"

Doesn't matter.

"But Orion admitted he was the one at fault!"

Doesn't matter.

"But a bot was saved! Jazz would've died!"

Does. Not. MATTER.

Her firing is presented as the typical "one character says thing won't happen then thing immediately happens" joke, but given how so much thought went into so much of TFOne's background details, I can't help but wonder if this was a hint to how broken the system was and how it was always rigged in a way that ensures the miners will never get out.

Not to mention, once Orion, D-16, and Jazz safely escape, she chews Orion out by saying, "If I get fired for this..." meaning this abrupt, out-of-nowhere, baseless firing is absolutely typical.

That's what makes Elita's "I'm better than you" speech to Orion that much more meaningful, because in many ways, she is better than him.

She's a better worker, better fighter, better at completing the task at hand, better at making sure things run smoothly. She is, ironically enough, an efficient and perfectly-running machine.

But had Orion not dragged Elita to the surface, she probably would've spent her whole life obediently following the rules, never questioning why things were the way they were. She was so focused on rising up within the system that she could never look beyond it.

Elita might be the cog by which other cogs turn.

But Orion is the spark that shows them a better way.

That's why he was given the Matrix.

[alexiroflife]

Hello! May I request an angsty toji fic where reader finds out she's pregnant (post megumi) and she knows toji doesn't want anymore children so she just kinda leaves with little to no explanation? Maybe just a small note saying things aren't working out. It's up to you if it will be a hurt/comfort. Idk you don't have to do this request I don't want to overload you! I seriously love your writing. The way you right the character just warms my heart. I especially love ur hiding an Injury fic it was SO SO SO GOOD. 🩶🤍🖤

“promise”

toji fushiguro x reader

Synopsis: see above

to sum it up: you think it’s better to run away than to be the one to get hurt

WC: 5,668

Warning(s): angst, suggestive themes, yelling, pregnancy, mentions of abortion

You stare down at the plastic tube clutched in your trembling hands in awe, eyes blown with shocked grief as you peer closer to get a better look, as though those two bright pink lines could have been a trick of your vision.

Unfortunately, however, your vision remains just as crystal clear as it always has been. As you stand in your cramped apartment bathroom, illuminated by a flickering fluorescent gaze shining down from above, horror befalls you.

You’re pregnant.

You should have known sooner when you began feeling queasy every morning, taking trips to either your or Toji’s toilet to hurl out the contents of whatever swam inside your stomach. You always tried to be silent if Toji was around, for he slept like a dog that could not be woken even if a meteor struck earth, and you had been remarkably exhausted. You aren’t even sure if there is a word to describe how sluggish your entire mind and body had been feeling, but you wanted to rule out the very obvious answer to your problems before exploring it.

You begin to panic, your heart pounding in your ears and throat and every inch of your body you could feel the pulse, eyes blurry over the positive test. You’re conflicted. You don’t know how to feel. On the one hand, you would have been jumping for joy to learn that you are starting a new life with your boyfriend, to step into a new chapter of your lives and to provide his children with another sibling.

But hell, the celebration is far too naive and implausible to be had. The sage eyed man has told you time and time again that he does not wish to have anymore kids, that the ones he has are enough and he is not equipped financially or mentally to care for another brat. In honor of those wishes, you’re on the pill, and consequently, Toji has taken the opportunity to plow his load inside of you time after time after time.

And you really, truly should have known that with Toji’s uniquely abled body, what was meant to serve as a barrier and a means of contraception did not work.

You feel like throwing up. What would Toji say? What would he do? What are you supposed to do? Should you tell him, fill him in on what’s going on to risk rejection and abandonment, a nasty habit that Toji had to work to rid himself of when he met you? Would he even care? Would he listen?

You know Toji to be a very tough man, despite the softened interior he attempts to hide in others’ company that is only displayed for you and for his kids. If he has always been adamant about one thing, it’s been to never have kids again, to focus on where he fucked up before and to pour his attention into the little family he’s grown, the one that he has now.

His voice echoes through your head like the gong of a church bell striking upon the ear’s of a sinner.

“Hell, I already got my hands full tryna get Megumi through his teenage years. What the hell is another child gonna do for us?”

“That shit’s fuckin’ expensive. Not to mention, I’d have to baby proof the house again. That’s another expense.”

“If I was capable of givin’ you y’er own, I would, doll. But I ain’t cut out for it. You know that.”

You don’t even know why he would stress the matter so often. You suppose he’s caught the way your eyes linger on a mother tossing their giggling baby up and down into the air, innocent pools of joy beaming down at her each time it reaches the air and lands in her secure hold. Or maybe he’s seen the way you care so deeply for Toji’s kids as though they are your own, despite telling you when you first got involved with each other that he did not expect you to step into their lives in anyway - and yet, you have done that and more. You know how the kids must struggle each day with the trauma of losing their mother so early on, and you never wanted them to think that you were trying to step in as her replacement, but you love them so clearly, as much as you love the man who created them.

Which leads you to your next concern. How would the kids react?

It’s one thing for you, as their father’s girlfriend, to wander into their lives and help navigate them their teenage hood alongside the dark haired man, but to introduce an entire other child only leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

They may be crushed. They me turn to hate you, to despise how you have contaminated the life they have worked so hard to rebuild after numerous tragedies. And would Toji agree with them? Would he turn his nose up to you, that scowl of his melting over his harsh features as he shuns you just as he shunned every other woman who came after his wife and before you. Would he leave you? Would he kick you out of the world that has become your own because you failed to live up to your promise, though it technically isn’t your fault that you are pregnant now but it feels as though it is?

You can not stand the thought, of the man you love turning his once loving gaze stone upon the sight of you, of him pushing you further away, permanently, in the same manner that he tried to when he realized that he was falling in love with you, of watching Megumi and Tsumiki turn their backs to you as though the past four years of your lives had never happened, banning you from their acceptance forever more.

Tears well in your gaze, interfering with your vision. This can not be happening, you think to yourself, everything has been going so well, and now this? This is going to ruin your relationship with Toji for good. Even if you were not in a committed relationship with him, you assume that the idea of any woman getting impregnated by Toji would have been thrown away. You would be thrown away, just like all the others who gave Toji their bodies but not their hearts.

Not the way you have.

Your heart clenches thinking of just how much you love Toji and the kids, of how you would be willing to lay down your own life for the sake of them as Toji swears that he would for you all in return. Even so, despite the commitment to you that a man who swore never to be committed to accustomed, this would be going too far.

…You’re not even sure if he would love you anymore.

Now that you’re pregnant with his child, a child he never meant to have with you, you assume you will mean nothing to him any longer. In his eyes, you will simply become the slut that he took a chance on by a whim, carrying something he would never call his own. You believe the old Toji will resurface, the one who claimed not to care, the one who shoved women out of his bedroom before the sun rose in the sky, the one who often failed to remember to pick his kids up from school, the one who would no longer meet you at eye level but look down upon you, frown upon you for being so clumsy.

You know Toji is the one who did this, but this still feels like it is your doing. Like somehow, you trapped him and he now has no choice but to break free from the steel cage you have barred around him with your conception.

Your fingers clutch over the plastic, your eyes scrunching closed to release a fresh set of tears that cascade over your cheeks and onto the test. You can feel yourself mourning your relationship already, you can feel it slipping through your fingers, see it fading in the distance until it becomes nothing but a bittersweet memory that you can not determine as reality or a figment of your imagination any longer.

You tilt your head, bringing the test to your forehead as you think, grieve, cry. You mull over your options; you could hide this from Toji, get an abortion and never think of it again or you could tell Toji and lose him forever.

You open your bleary eyes, lashes decked with dewy tears, as another idea dawns upon you. You could leave, leave before Toji and the kids have a chance to leave you.

It’s a cruel thought, you think, especially abandoning those children without any proper explanation for them, but what else are you meant to do? You’d be doing them all a favor if anything by taking your leave without them having to be plagued by the knowledge of your unplanned pregnancy, of what they may view as a scheme to destroy their family in your new baby’s wake.

The thought kills you to even entertain. You had promised those kids that you weren’t going anywhere, that you’d stay with them for as long as they allowed you… but this is different. This is not what any of you had in your cards, how you believed your futures to go. Toji wants simplicity at home while he works through chaos through his occupation. He wants security, warmth, safety for you, Megumi, Tsumiki, and no one else. He would never welcome another child. You believe he’d be caught dead before approving of your pregnancy.

And therefore, you know what you have to do.

After taking a few more tests to ensure that the readings are accurate, which they are, you pledge to walk away. You pledge to leave the only man you’ve ever truly loved, the strongest family you’ve known, and the slim possibility that despite Toji’s wishes, he may accept you.

But you don’t want to take that chance and risk the humiliation and unplanned heartbreak. You’d much rather take matters into your own hands, and plan the shattering of your soul yourself.

You don’t sleep all night, for you’re too busy drafting about twenty different letters to Toji. Crumpled loosleaf paper litters the floor beside your bed as you try to think of how to best write down everything you want to say. You go through pages and pages until you are finally satisfied with the result, and the next morning, you slip the envelope into his mail slot and prepare to pack your life away.

It is late Sunday morning when Toji rises from his slumber. The first thing he does is lean over the sheets and drape his arm toward his nightstand to read your daily good morning text - only he finds there isn’t one. With pinched brows, he takes his phone to unlock it and visit your contact. Nothing.

The time reads 12:35 pm. Normally, you’re up and at it or even banging down his door by then to wake him. Maybe you’re just sleeping in?

He goes to give your cell a call, but nothing. Not only that, but your phone is also on do not disturb mode. His gut immediately swells with the suspicion that something is wrong. The dark haired assassin supposes he’s going to pay you a visit this afternoon as soon as he checks on the kids to ensure that they are alright.

His bedroom door opens with a creak, and he calls out to the teens gruffly through a yawn. When they don’t respond, he’s truly growing concerned.

He rounds the corner to prepare to head for their rooms when he finds Tsumiki and Megumi at the dining table. His brows furrow, his pace slowing as he takes in their faces. Tsumiki’s lips are pressed together tightly and the muscles in her face are scrunched as though she is about to cry, while Megumi stares ahead with empty eyes and a hardened exterior.

Toji frowns with quirked brows, approaching his kids. “What’s wrong with you two?”

His brunette daughter looks up at him with glassy eyes and wrinkled chin, lashes fluttering while Megumi does not bother to look at his father. Instead, he brings Toji’s attention to a torn envelope and a thick packet of papers pressed beneath the sixteen year old’s palm. Wordlessly, Megumi slides it toward him, brows slanting.

Toji, perplexed, looks between the papers and his children’s troubled faces. What is this letter? Overdue taxes? An eviction notice? That can’t be possible, because you had ensured that Toji and the kids’ place was secure long ago.

He crunches the papers in his hands and picks them up to read. The first thing that catches his eye is your scribbling handwriting, and the following words that send his heart plummeting to his ass:

This isn’t working out.

Toji whips his head up, baffled, and when he meets Megumi’s gaze again, his eyes are ablaze with resentment.

“What the hell did you do?” he growls.

The green eyed man is not even thinking before he’s dialing Shiu’s number, asking him to watch the kids for the next hour or so, and running out of the apartment after throwing rather unconvincing words of assurance over his shoulder to his kids, who are still with disbelief - Tsumiki with devastation and Megumi with rage, for surely his father pushed you away.

Toji does not bother finding a ride, electing to run to your place which is only a few blocks away. You two were just discussing moving in with one another, combining households, and this is what you spring onto him? Not even for him to stumble across first, but his kids who look up to you and love you like their own mother?

Oh, he’s fuming, a rush of emotions taking over his mind as it fuels his speed. The letter you wrote is still crunched in his fist, whipping through the air as he makes his way to you.

Dear Toji,

This is not working out.

But before you rampage and get angry with me, please let me explain. Let me explain how much I love you, how much those kids mean to me, and how every day I wake up I want to be greeted by all of your smiling faces. For the rest of time, forever. You are undoubtedly the only man for me, and I truly believe that. I know you may think I’m bullshitting because of how the beginning of this letter contradicts what im saying now, but it’s true. I have never loved another person the way I love you, and while it scared me at first when you were so stubborn and full of anger that you misdirected onto me, I stayed and I waited and I helped you and I’ve loved you through every single moment, ever week, every month, and every year. You brought purpose back into my life, and I can picture you scoffing because you’d say the same, but I mean it. You, Tsumiki, and Megumi are the best things that have ever happened to me. I love you all so much.

But in this case, that love is not enough.

I hate to be doing this to you, to the kids, but I have no other choice. Things aren’t going the way they used to, and it’s not your fault but mine. I’m the reason. And it is tearing me apart to know that and simultaneously know what I have to do in order to keep you and the kids happy. Stable. I wish I could explain to you more why I am doing this, but I can’t. Not just because I am dying to picture you reading this, but because I truly can not say. I do not want to ruin you guys’ image of me. While I think that’s a selfish thing to say because who knows how me leaving is going to hurt you all, you would not understand even if you knew the reason behind this.

By the time you are done reading this, I will be gone. I’m going away because as long as I am not with you all, I can’t stay here anymore. I am staying with my mother while I get my travel plans arranged, because I know how you worry when you do not know where I am or if im safe. I should be gone by Friday.

Please do not come see me. I have made my decision, and you will only be hurting us more by trying to stop me. I won’t be stopped.

Kiss and hug and apologize to Megumi and Tsumiki for me. I hope you find someone who fills the role of their mother, someone who knows how Megumi likes to do his homework in the silence of his room with no music or anything, completely isolated so he can focus. Someone who knows how to fix Tsumiki’s eggs properly - to add extra butter to the sides when you fry them so the edges get crispier. Someone who won’t try to feed Gumi’a demidogs because he hates when people assume they can coddle up to them upon first introduction. Someone who cares for the wholly the way I do and always will.

And you. I know how stubborn you are. I know how angry you probably are at me right now, and I will miss that about you, but please do not let that interfere with the possibility of falling in love again. Beneath the layers of grit, standoffishness, and indifference, you are a man with a big heart. For me. For your kids. For those you love and seek to protect.

You say you aren’t a good man, and while that may be true to you, you are an amazing partner and you’ve already become an amazing parent. I’ve seen you grow, and I am so in love with you and so proud of you. I know you’ll be okay without me. It maybe take some time, but you’ll adjust to what’s best. I promise.

With all the love that could possibly be harbored in this world, you are everything to me and that is why I have to go. I wish you every happiness this planet can offer you, and I know that without me, you can begin to find joy again.

Love,

Your doll

You had believed to time this perfectly, for you know that Toji usually does not wake until one, so soon as you are finishing up packing, you are trudging down the stairs to the leasing office to inform them that you will be moving.

You push open the door to the first floor, the breeze hitting you gently, and you round the corner only to be blocked by the last person you wanted to run into during this time.

Your eyes widen as you look up, the burly figure you have grown oh so familiar with over the years heaving as though enraged, ivy eyes crowding over slim pupils as Toji glares down at you, an image of indescribable fury.

Your heart drops and your words die in your throat. “T-Toji?” you whisper, horrified of an outburst. You are rattled by fear, having been so unprepared to walk into this. You did not put it past him to chase you down. But you figured that you’d be at your parents by the time he woke. Then, you could have at least told them to tell him off at the door.

But no. Instead, here he is, six feet and then some of bulking mass as he takes quick, deep breaths that expand the entirety of his chest.

You shift. “What are you doing here-“

“What the fuck is this?”

Toji swiftly, yet aggressively, lifts the papers in his hands, now damaged by his travels and his grip, shaking it firmly with the question. You gulp, lowering your eyes.

“Toji, I told you not to come…”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he swears firmly, and you jump, looking to see if anyone is around to hear you, as the two of you are standing outside your complex.

“We shouldn’t be- let’s just go inside,” you go to grab his arm, but he tears it away. He stares at you as though you have burned him, singed the heart in his chest from the inside out, and he is so unforgiving. So unforgiving before he hears directly from your mouth what this is about.

“I’m not doin’ shit until you tell me what the fuck this is, (Y/n),” he demands, his hand moving the papers about passionately with his speech, and you feel your heart hammering again. This is not how things were supposed to go. You are not supposed to be seeing him right now. “Cause I refuse- I fuckin’ refuse to believe that you’re breaking up with me.”

Your eyes gloss over as you look down at your feet, unsure of what to do or how to handle this confrontation. You can’t do this. You can’t, it’s too much. It’s too hard.

“…I am,” you mumble.

Toji steps forward, leaning down to get a peek of your face, his expression so angry that it worries you. “What?”

“I said… I am.”

“Uh uh, you better say that shit with your chest if you can write a whole damn letter about it,” he growls, fucking further as you continue to turn away. “Look at me,” he barks, and you cringe.

“Toji, don’t yell at me!” you shout back.

“What else do’ya want me to do, huh?” he throws his hands up. “How else do you expect me to react to this bullshit?! You’re leavin’ me? After everythin’ we been through, after everythin’ you and the kids’ve been through, you’re leavin? Are you fuckin’ serious?”

He takes a swift glance at the papers, the very sight sending him into a spiral, before he’s heatedly looking back down at you.

“I don’t buy this shit for one second. No. You’re not leavin’. Not in this world, or the next.”

“I am, Toji, the quicker you accept that, the easier it’ll be for everyone!”

“Easy?” he winces as though the prospect pains him. “You call this shit easy? You call up and tryin’ to abandon me easy? You call the kids waking up to your letter and reading it at the table before I saw it easy?”

Your face falls. “…what?”

“Yeah. You fuckin’ heard me,” he sneers. “Megumi and Tsumiki read this shit first. First thing in the morning, they see a letter about how the woman they love is leavin’ ‘em, just like their mom did, and for what?”

You close your eyes, his words stinging you as they cut through. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not? It’s true, ain’t it? Y’er leavin’ us, (Y/n), and you didn’t even have the decency to say why!”

Guilt crowds you, like a blanket of darkness consuming you from overhead, and as Toji stands before you completely torn apart by your letter, you see the fear in his eyes, the sadness, the unspoken plea for you not to go.

You try your best to keep your composure as you turn away again. “I told you, I can’t tell you.”

“Fuck that,” he lifts the letter and tosses it to the ground with a thud. You gasp, watching it slam to the concrete pavement.

“Toji!” you exclaim.

“You think you can just leave without me comin’ to hunt you down and see your face so I can figure out what the hell is goin’ on? You must not know me at all.”

“Why do you always have to be so aggressive about everything?!”

“Of all fuckin’ things, (Y/n), I think I got a right to be aggressive about this. You were gonna leave without sayin’ goodbye!” he tosses his arm out to the side with the exclamation, brows twisting and teeth bearing. “Is that what our relationship means t’ya? You think you can just toss us aside?”

“That’s not what I’m doing,” you beg, a lump forming in your throat as the two of you stand face to face, arguing without a car about who will see you.

“Then tell me,” he shouts. “Cause you’re not givin’ me shit to go off of!”

“I told you already, I can’t,” your lips quiver.

“Then our relationship is nothing to you.”

“No, Toji.”

“Clearly it ain’t, cause I’d think it’d be worth an explanation if you’re runnin’ away!” you frown and shake your head, turning to walk back into the complex when Toji cuts you off, moving in your way. “You don’t think I know you? You don’t think I see it all over your face that somethin’s got you scared, and y’re takin’ off because of it? You think I don’t know what that looks like, (Y/n)? I did that shit. I did it all the damn time before I met you, and hell, I tried to run then but you wouldn’t let me, so what the hell makes you think I’m gonna let you now?”

“This is different,” you say shortly, afraid to reveal the tremble of your voice to the man before you. You keep your gaze down as you try to go around him again, but to no avail. He steps in your path. “Stop!”

“I ain’t stoppin’,” he says gravely, keeping his eyes to yours though you try to avoid contact with them. “Not until you spit it out. I’ll be damned if I got another broken home cause y’re fuckin’ scared.”

“I said stop!” you try to find some bass in your voice, but against your will, it falters when you yell. Toji eyes you carefully, reaching his hand out to grip your shoulder and steady you into place.

You scoff, attempting to pull away, but it’s no use. The dark haired man is everywhere, keeping you from walking away.

“You talk to me like the grown ass woman you are,” he tells you sternly, stepping in. “You use that voice I know you have, and don’t you ever let me catch you writin’ a letter to me about how you wanna break up instead of comin’ to talk to me. Y’understand?”

You exhale shakily, lips pressing together and brows curling. “I can’t.”

“Y’re still not tellin’ me why you think that.”

“Because I can’t, Toji. I can’t tell you. It’ll- it’ll fuck up everything!” you break, and Toji feels the pit in his stomach shift as he looks over your aggrieved expression, depicting the same exact things he feels.

“(Y/n),” he calls your name firmly, the sound of it on his tongue only inspiring the urge to cry more. You continue to shake your head though Toji isn’t exactly speaking, and his green eyes wander you with frustrated concern. “Y’scared of what I’ll do if you tell me?”

You freeze, slowly peeling your eyes to look at his, his face tense with grief. You stare at him for a moment, mouth gaping like a fish as all of your insecurities that talked you toward this ledge run through your mind once more.

“Don’t look surprised,” he says. “I know you like the back of my hand, and I know that you knew I’d be over here to stop ya.”

Your frown deepens, and this time as you look at him, you see every second of your future that you were quick to stomp dow. You see the unbridled, unfiltered love he holds for you as well as the blood curdling fear of letting you go.

“You have to understand,” you whimper. “I know how you’ll react, I- I can’t do this to you. You have to let me go.”

“What the hell could be so horrifyin’ in that head of yours to make you think that I won’t stick with ya through hell and high water?” he grits out, searching your swollen hues of (e/c) hesitation. “You’d do the same for me.”

“I know, but-“

“There’s nothin’ else to say. I ain’t leavin’ until you spill, and when you do, y’re comin’ with me.”

You look at him, pained. It’s a trap, you think. If Toji only knew, he’d be running for the hills instead of trying to track you down.

“Out with it, now.”

You can’t. You can’t tell him. He’ll leave you, he’ll reject you, he’ll turn you away, he’ll never let you see the kids again.

“(Y/n)!”

“I’m pregnant!”

The earth seems to freeze and time seems to slow. You scrunch your eyes, anticipating the worst to come as Toji takes in your words, his tensed expression melting slowly.

You don’t open your eyes to see his reaction. You keep your head ducked and your fists closed as the white noise of nature flutters into relevance. You’re trembling, terrified, and Toji can not move but instead proceeds to stare at you, stunned.

His words about not wanting any more kids run through your mind again as you await his response, and the suspense kills you as you do. You can feel his grip on your shoulder slacken before tightening again, and you are terrified.

He’s going to leave you.

You are quick to step away when the sentiment arises once more, Toji’s hand falling from you arm. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, still unable to look at him. “I’m sorry, I know that you don’t want any more kids. I know, an I thought we were being careful, but- I took five tests. They’re all positive.”

“You’re pregnant?” he echoes, and you still. You knew it. You knew this would happen.

“I told you, Toji,” you exhale. “I told you that I couldn’t tell you, and now everything’s a mess.”

He twitches. “Hold on-“

“Don’t tell me all of a sudden you want kids,” you snap. “I know how strongly you feel about it.”

“So instead of talkin’ to me, you were gonna leave? Knocked up? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“What other choice do I have?!” you cry. “You don’t want more kids, and if I kept it, it would only be a nuisance to you. And Megumi and Tsumiki?”

He scrunches his face. “What about ‘em?”

“How do you think they’d feel if the woman you’re dating after their mother died surprised them with a new baby? They’d be crushed!” you say shakily as salty tears well in your eyes again. “I can’t overstep your boundaries. I just can’t. It’s easier for me to go.”

“And do what, (Y/n)? Raise a kid on your own without any help?”

“I can’t bare you leaving me!” you suddenly confess, tear striking past your cheek.

Toji examines you and frowns. “What are y’talkin’ about? You’re tryin’ to leave me!”

“So I can prevent the inevitable from happening,” you huff. “I’m okay with it. I’ve made peace with everything. That’s why you need to just let me go-“

“After everythin’, you think I’d throw you away because you’re pregnant with my kid?” Toji says incredulously. You falter, for you had been so sure of his reaction before. “You think that low of me?”

“No, but I want you to have what you want.”

“What I want is you, you fuckin’ idiot,” he hisses. “All I ever wanted was you, and I can’t fuckin’ believe you’re tryin’ to take that away from me.”

You furrow your brows, confused. “…You’re not mad?”

“Girl, I’m livid,” he scowls. “Not about the damn kid, but because you assumed what I would say before comin’ to me.”

“Toji, you have to understand that I was trying to look out for you.”

“There’s not lookin’ out for me or those kids or makin’ them happy if you’re gone, (Y/n),” he bites. “Who th’fuck put that idea in your head?”

You stammer, tears proceeding to flow down your face as you reel in the reality of the situation. “I… I just thought-“

“I don’t wanna hear it.”

Before you can respond, his hand is gripping your wrist and he’s tugging you toward him into his chest. You shake when you fall into him, listening to the pace of his heart rapidly beating against your ear as he breaths quickly against you. Large palms smooth over your head and down to your waist as he holds you tightly, and you notice how desperate his grip is. He’s holding you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear, as though you’ll fly away if his hold is not tight enough.

He tucks his head into your neck, fingers grasping into your shirt, and suddenly the animosity of the moment prior is gone. You’re still trembling, leading Toji to hold you tighter to him.

“Can’t believe you tried to leave,” he murmurs into your hair. “Christ, (Y/n) you’re tryin’ to gimme a heart attack. The fuck is goin’ on with you.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble into his chest, looking off sadly. “I thought you’d be upset about it. I didn’t want you to know.”

“I should know about any and every single thing that’s goin’ on with you, y’hear me? This ain’t no exception.”

A weight flutters from your shoulders as you sink into Toji’s head, silent tears streaming for the life you almost sacrificed. “What are we gonna do?”

“I dunno,” he mumbles. “But we’ll figure it out. As a team. Alright?”

You nod meekly. “Okay.”

He groans, pressing himself impossibly further to you. “That letter… fuck, don’t do that shit. Don’t fuckin’ scare me like that. Without you, I ain’t shit- pregnant or not. And those kids would adore another sibling if you were bringing it into this world. Don’t say that shit about them again either. They need ya. We need ya.”

“I’m sorry,” you whine again, Toji’s hand stroking over your back soothingly.

“It’s okay,” he grumbles. “We’ll figure it out.”

[hoe4hotchner]

hey! i love your stuff :)! was wondering if you could maybe do a short fic with hotch where he's interrogating the reader (who is a suspect, but is actually innocent), and the reader politely informs hotch that they're about to faint (they have a fainting condition, like POTS or something). hotch doesn't panic bc he's, well, hotch, but he calls for medical help. meanwhile, reader is just casually lying down on the cold floor of the cell and being really chill waiting to faint, even making conversation. anyway, hotch finds out that the police officers who had arrested the reader had denied them their medicine, and he rips them a new one.

OBVIOUSLY DONT WRITE IT IF YOU DONT WANT TO, I THINK YOU'RE LOVELY AND I DONT WANT TO PRESSURE YOu

have a nice day!

Unexpected Interrogation | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!reader | WC: 0.9k | CW: Hurt/comfort?, medical condition (POTS), mistreatment by law enforcement, fainting, medication.

A/N: I'm trying a new layout for when I answer requests, I don't know if I'll commit to it, but I like it for now.

Also I don't know anything about POTS or other fainting conditions, so I hope I did it justice - feedback is appriciated.

Hotch sat across from you, his expression stern and unyielding as he leaned forward in his chair, the dim lighting of the room casting sharp shadows on his face. To any observer, you would seem calm - your hands folded neatly in your lap and eyes focused - but inside, you were already feeling the telltale signs. The tightness in your chest, the lightheadedness creeping in. You’d been here for hours, and now, without your medicine, it was simply a matter of time before you would faint.

"You've been uncooperative since the moment we brought you in," Hotch said, his voice level but carrying the weight of suspicion as he couldn't quite figure out if you were guilty or not. "Tell me why you were at the scene."

You took a slow breath, trying to center yourself. "Agent Hotchner," you said politely, your voice a little too soft for the intensity of the moment. "I understand why I'm here, and I will tell you everything you want to know, but I think I should let you know… I'm about to faint."

He blinked, his gaze sharpening but not a trace of panic crossing his face. If anything, his brows furrowed, a mixture of confusion and concern settling in his expression. "You're about to faint?"

"Yeah," you nodded, shifting slightly in your seat, trying to ignore the swimming sensation behind your eyes. "I have a fainting condition - it's called POTS. Normally, I’d take medicine, but..." You gave a tired shrug. "The officers who arrested me didn’t let me have it."

The tension in the room shifted. Hotch leaned back slightly, the gears in his mind already turning. He wasn’t a man to panic, even in strange situations. He pressed a button on the desk to signal for help, keeping his eyes on you. "I’ll get a medic in here."

You offered him a small smile. "Thanks, but it’s cool. Happens all the time. I’ll just… lie down." Without waiting for a response, you eased yourself off the chair - thankful that you weren't cuffed to the table - and laid flat on the cold tiled floor, your head resting on your arms as if this was the most natural thing in the world. The coolness of the floor helped somewhat, but your vision was already narrowing at the edges.

Hotch stood, watching you for a moment before kneeling next to you, his tone softened slightly. "How long have you been without your medication?"

You glanced at him from your place on the floor, blinking slowly. "Since they arrested me… hours ago? Honestly, it could be worse. But you know, fainting isn’t great for clearing one’s name." You chuckled lightly, trying to make the best of the situation, though it quickly turned into a weary sigh. "I’m innocent, by the way."

He didn't respond to that directly, but there was a flicker in his eyes, something acknowledging the injustice of your situation. "How often does this happen?"

"Often enough that I’m pretty used to it," you said casually, your breath slowing as the dizziness increased. "But hey... it gives me an excuse to lie down on the job, right?"

A small smile tugged at the corner of Hotch’s mouth - just for a moment - but then his professional mask slipped back into place. "Don’t talk. Just focus on staying calm."

You hummed in agreement, though your vision was blurring fast. "I’ll be out soon, but when I wake up, I’d love to continue this conversation. I mean, I know I’m innocent, but it would be great to convince you of that too."

He gave a short nod. "We’ll get to that. First, let’s get you taken care of."

Moments later, the medics arrived, rushing into the room with a stretcher and medical kit. But Hotch didn’t leave your side, ensuring they knew about your condition, making sure they were doing everything right. As they checked your vitals and prepared to move you, you started to fade, your words becoming slow and drowsy. "Thanks, agent… you’re not as intimidating as I thought you’d be."

The medic smiled at that, while Hotch’s lips pressed into a thin line, the smallest hint of amusement in his eyes. But once you were being taken care of, Hotch’s focus shifted back to the situation that had led to this. The officers who had arrested you. The ones who had denied you your medication.

Minutes later, Hotch found the officers outside the room, his demeanor stone cold. “Which one of you denied the suspect their medication?”

One of the officers, a tall man with a smug expression, stepped forward. “We didn’t think it was relevant. They didn’t say it was urgent.”

Hotch’s eyes darkened, his voice dropping to a low tone. “Didn’t think it was relevant? You’re lucky they’re stable, or you’d be facing a lawsuit at the very least.” He took a step closer, towering over the man. “You do not withhold medical treatment from anyone in custody. I don’t care if they’re a suspect, a witness, or guilty. Do you understand?”

The officer faltered, clearly not expecting the sharp reprimand. “Y-yes, sir.”

“I’ll be filing a report about this. You’ve jeopardized a life today. If I ever hear of anything of the sort again, you’ll be out of a job.” Hotch didn’t wait for a response, turning on his heel and heading back toward the interrogation room. There were few things that set him off more than mistreatment, especially under his watch.

He returned just as the medics were finishing up. You were still unconscious, but stable. Hotch stood by the door for a moment, watching as they prepared to transport you, his expression unreadable.

Innocent or not, he was going to make sure you were treated right.

[webism]

★ sometimes, sukuna makes you ride his thigh instead of his lengthy fingers, or his sharp face or prodigious cock.

it's meant to be a punishment, a deprivation of what so often leaves you breathless and stupid, but you can't find fault in the muscled ridges of his thighs. maybe if your sharp-toothed lover was less active, less built, you'd struggle a bit more to find pleasure in his thigh.

you don't even know why you're being punished. it could be for your sharp tongue, or for touching yourself unpermitted, or for some other perceived sin. but as far as the space between you and ryomen stretches; he is the church and you are to kneel over his thick thigh and repent.

so repent you do. you rock your hips, grind down against his bare thigh as if seeking your own climax is apology enough for wronging your lover. if you wronged him, that is—sometimes sukuna punishes you unprovoked, the protests you give when you've really done nothing wrong get his dick hard. though you've cum more times you can count now, surely he can't punish you longer.

you can practically taste his cock it's so close, hard and throbbing and resting against his stomach just waiting to be doted on. you could reach out and grab it, and your fingers ache to feel the weight of his length against them, as does your tongue—but you know your ministries wouldn't go unpunished. and touching him when you're not permitted to doesn't reward you with the fun punishments like fucking yourself on his thigh; your ass would be sore for days.

"faster," his voice is steeled, painted nails digging into your hips. it hurts, how harshly he holds you, but it hurts in a searing way you'd miss if he were to let go. his touch is mean, you love it about him.

you oblige, rock your hips faster despite the sweat that pricks at your skin and the increasing work it takes for your lungs to provide you with enough oxygen to stay clear-headed. sukuna tsks, though, bares his teeth and forces you down harder against his solid thigh. it's a mess of your lust, glossy with your slick and you don't doubt he'll have you clean him up once you're too fucked out to think. perhaps with a cooling bath; perhaps with your tongue.

"you're a mess," he chides. "fucking filthy. stupid brat, so dumb and you're not even taking my cock. you couldn't."

harder, he presses your cunt against his thigh, pulls you to grind down on him. your desperation isn't lost on you, but sukuna's words prick at your stomach.

"i could. let me, please, i want—"

"you want?" he growls. "you don't want. you need my cock, brat, and i'm denying you a necessity."

you know he gets off on using you like this, playing with your threshold for pleasure. just how many orgasms can he rip out of you using his thigh alone? he's controlling your movements like you're the toy despite the lack of physical stimulation he gets from this. he's fucking you mindless and all he's doing is sitting nice and still for you.

when he manages another orgasm out of you, the slurred mewls of 'too much' falling of his deaf-by-choice ears, you realise your punishment isn't pleasure. it is the denial of himself: your newfound addiction, his reverent touch. he won't give you his cock, his tongue, his fingers or even the heel of his palm. all you get is his thigh, and you unravel from that alone. he finds it pathetic and all too erotic in the same breath.

is there really any denying you if he can draw pleasure from you using just the frame of his build?

thanks sutton for star hehe its so fun. i need to write more two-dick-sukuna writing him with one dick here felt wrong

kinktober tags: @medusamara5 @echodead @curiositykilledthecatx3 @hirainne

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@xixflower @alifromtheotherworld

[mw00nie]

thinking about how nanami doesn’t do baby talk with your daughter.

he made it clear from the very beginning. the day you found out you were pregnant, he kissed your forehead, pressed a hand to your still flat belly, and said, “i refuse to do baby talk  just so we’re clear.”

you laughed at the time, thought he was joking. but he wasn’t.

when she was born, he cradled her like glass. spoke to her like she understood everything. whispered soft things in her ear in that calm, low voice of his. not nonsense or silly rhymes, but actual words. real language. “you’re safe.” “you’re loved.” “i’ll always be here.”

and that’s how it’s been ever since.

now she’s four, and still, he doesn’t coo or squeal or make exaggerated cartoon voices. he doesn’t squish her cheeks and call her a wittle cutie pie. he doesn’t baby her.

he calls her “sweetheart,” “darling,” “honey” in that same even tone he uses with everyone, but softer. slower. warmer. like his words are only hers.

he talks to her like she’s someone worth listening to.

and she talks back like she knows she’s being taken seriously.

when she tells him her teddy bear is sick and needs emergency surgery, he clears his schedule and lays out tissues like gauze pads. “what’s the diagnosis?” he asks, serious as ever. “fuzzy fever,” she says, frowning. “then we’ll need extra care and plenty of rest,” he replies, adjusting the little stuffed limbs with practiced hands. he doesn’t do pretend very often at all, but for her? he’ll play nurse, doctor, and emotional support all at once.

he doesn't speak down to her, ever. when she asks questions (and she asks a lot) he answers every single one like it’s important. “why is the sky blue?” “because of the way light scatters in the atmosphere.” “what’s a mortgage?” “a financial agreement. you don’t need to worry about that just yet.” she hums and nods like she understands, like she’s filing it away for later.

he teaches her things gently. slowly. patiently. “we use kind hands.” “we speak clearly when we’re upset.” “it’s okay to cry, but we don’t throw our toys.”

he doesn’t yell. doesn’t raise his voice. doesn’t huff or sigh in frustration. when she’s overwhelmed, he just kneels beside her, rests a hand on her back, and says, “it’s a big feeling. take your time.”

and she trusts him. wholly. fully. because he’s never once made her feel small. never once laughed when she stuttered through a sentence or tried to use a big word she didn’t quite understand. instead, he gently repeats the word for her. uses it in a sentence. helps her try again.

and she calls him “dad,” but sometimes “sir” slips in when she’s mimicking the way others speak to him. she does it with such seriousness that it breaks something soft in his chest. he pretends not to react, but you’ve seen the way he glances away quickly, like he needs a moment to collect himself.

he doesn’t tell her she’s cute. but he tells her she’s clever. tells her he’s proud of how kind she is. “you were very thoughtful today,” he says after she offers you the last cookie. “you showed great emotional maturity,” he tells her when she apologizes after a tantrum.

and when she’s tired. really tired. she crawls into his lap without saying a word. he always opens his arms. always shifts to make space. he strokes her hair, rests his cheek on top of her head, and murmurs, “you did your best today. that’s all i’ll ever ask.”

and she falls asleep there, every time, safe in the arms of a man who never babbles, never sings off-key lullabies, but always shows up. always protects her. always sees her.

and when you ask her who her best friend is, she says “dad” without hesitation. when you ask her why, she shrugs and says, “he listens to me better than anyone else.”

and it’s true.

he listens when she talks about butterflies and princesses and space robots. he listens when she says she’s scared of thunderstorms. he listens when she says she wants to be a firefighter and a ballet dancer and also maybe a sea turtle. he never tells her it’s silly. never laughs.

so no, nanami doesn’t do baby talk. he doesn’t sing silly songs or play peek-a-boo. but he shows up to every tea party. he folds her tiny socks like they’re made of gold. he takes her hand when they cross the street, holds it like it’s the most precious thing he’s ever touched. and when he tucks her in at night, he kisses her forehead and says, “you’re growing into someone wonderful.”

and really, that means more than any silly voice or rhyming song ever could. because nanami doesn’t just raise a daughter; he raises a whole person

[tbaluver]

I LOVE YOUR WORK, OMG. i've been binging it since morning, and it's a good wake-up read (ꏿ௰ꏿ) can i request a scenario where reader likes to roam around naked (like, they're already way far into the relationship where they're comfortable enough to do that) and it surprise the four lis. also, they just randomly walk in on reader lying down and playing with their nipples and kneading their own breasts just because. what would their reaction be to that?

Walking Around Naked- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre/ tags: MDNI, 18+, suggestive content a/n: hihi anonnie! ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡) tysm for reading my works its an honor for my works to be read esp in the morning ily .·°՞(¯□¯)՞°·. ♡ i hope this was alright maybe slight ooc but just close ur eyes if it feels like it is (ᵕ—ᴗ—) but i hope you enjoy reading angel (づ๑•ᴗ•๑)づ♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

He would make sure there is no one around the house, even though you both own the house and it's literally only the two of you. His cheeks were flushed pink and he's trailing behind you to wrap his arms behind you, pressing his very obvious hard on through his sweats. Looks like he's not the only one with the flushed cheeks.

He would honestly join in walking around the house naked and find it comfortable. He would pull you closer to cuddle and you'd feel his cock harden under your ass but that just means it's easier to slip it in.

"Do you mind if I join you honey?"

If he saw you playing with your boobs, he'd ask if he can join you before settling down on top of you. He'd play with one of your nipples with one hand while the other kneads your breasts. Sometimes he'll just pop one in his mouth, sometimes making eye contact with you as he does so

Zayne:

As always, Zayne was immersed in a patient report on days when he’s not in his office until he glanced up and caught sight of you walking around the house naked. His focus faltered, doing a double take and momentarily losing focus on the task on his laptop. Clearing his throat and adjusting his glasses, he attempted to refocus back to the patient's details but the images of you clouded in his mind. Eventually he couldn’t resist it and made his way to you

Since this is an often thing, he will tell you to make sure to put on slippers or something warm to slip on when it's cold. He would offer his own robe that he wears around the house and he's not doing this because he thinks you should cover up but because he doesn't want you to get sick!

This man loves your boobs. Mouth or hands or the combo of both are always latched onto them whenever you let him have the chance. So whenever he walks in on you casually kneading your breasts and playing with your nipples, he’d already forgotten what he needed to do in the room in the first place.

“Ahem. Are you cold? You might get sick without a blanket. Here I’ll join you to warm you up.”

You’re not one to complain whenever he joins you. He’ll settle you on his lap and pull over a blanket over the two of you. With a content hum, one of his large hands snake up to your waist to gently knead one of your breasts.

Rafayel:

The first time you walked by his studio and he heard you, he would have his jaw dropped. Although he’s seen your body countless times, each time just feels like the first time he’s ever seen you. The painting can wait because this fishie is tailing right behind you.

Blames you for being distracting but he doesn’t really mean it- he’s actually enjoying it. If you try talking to him, you’ll notice a hint of pink creeping on his cheeks. He just doesn't want to seem rude because he just wants to take a peek a little bit lower.

“Stop! Hold that position and don’t move cutie.”

He sees your beauty in every way, inside and out. He often tries to capture you whether it’s through a photograph or a sketch, even if you move too much, yet no art can do justice to what he perceives. It doesn’t capture the warmth of your touch or the spark in your smile. Once he finishes the sketch, he'll have you looking like a Renaissance painting. You’re forever his muse, his beautiful pearl.

Most of the time, when he sees you laying in bed playing with your boobs, he’ll just make himself comfortable. He’ll crawl on top of you, resting his head against your chest, nuzzling against you with a content smile. He'll mostly tell you to play with his hair as an excuse so he can play with your boobs.

Sylus:

Honestly he’s happy that you can walk around comfortably in your shared home with him. He’s very grateful that your romantic relationship with him is constantly evolving. He would approach you with a lowly chuckle, wrapping his arms around your waist and earning a surprised squeak from you. He’ll throw in many many compliments as he peppers kisses all over your face to hear your giggle.

Very handsy. If you pass by him, he’s most likely going to give your ass a slap or give it a quick grab or squeeze. Also reminds you that his closet is yours to always use if you happen to get cold.

“Got room for one more sweetie?”

If you let him, he would shift your position so he’s lying on his back and so you can rest his head on his chest. One hand gently kneading your breasts and occasionally rubbing your bud with his thumb and index finger as you both settle into a comfy environment

[starry-bi-sky]

don't you want to be a cult leader? - danyal al ghul au

this is mostly a joke post but i thought it was funny and had to share so--

his first mistake was, obviously, inheriting his father's inability to see an injustice and stand still. -- actually, danyal's first mistake was his lair being so big. a mountainous island with a large temple in the center resembling his old home in Nanda Parbat? With sprawling foliage and rivers and streams and waterfalls galore? What was he going to do with all that space? Let it go to waste? He had plants there! Native trees of the ghost zone growing from the soil! He couldn't let it all be left unchecked!

So naturally after helping a fellow teenage assassin ghost -- who he later learns is named Akihiko, -- from Walker of all people, he sent them over to hang low at his lair until it was safe enough for them to wander around the Zone. Walker couldn't get through Danyal's astrofield if his life depended on it, and trust him -- he's tried. Danny was clearing out debris from his stupid transport vans for weeks.

Honestly it wasn't so bad, he and Aki really quickly became fast friends and Danny loves having a sparring partner close to his level again -- he hasn't had this much fun fighting since he left the League. Aki was very dedicated and levelheaded, the both of them clicked really well because of it.

Nonono, the real trouble began after Danyal met some long-passed League members and allowed them to come join his island as well. Apparently they had made a few enemies of the zone, and maybe Danyal still felt some loyalty to the League. He couldn't just let them be left to rot. Their zealotry could be overlooked so long as they kept it contained and helped him take care of his island.

And it.. snowballs from there? He meets a teen squire aptly calling himself Ambroise -- whether that was his living name or not is yet to be seen -- who died during feudal france, who is just about as dramatic and passionate as every french stereotype makes them out to be. He calls Danyal "my moon and great muse" -- which is both flattering and little uncomfortable, but Danyal's grown up in the League as the Grandson of the Demon Head, he is used to mild worship. he passes it off as nothing more, nothing less. -- and while his energy is overwhelming on the worst of days, he helps Danny draw out of his shell more in ways that Sam and Tucker still struggle with.

Him and Aki butt heads a lot, but the two seem to hold the other in at least some positive regard, so Danny doesn't worry too much about them fighting while he's gone. It only becomes a mild issue when Aki also begins calling Danny "my moon". It's a little sweet, so Danyal brushes it off.

Then he takes in a troupe of ghosts some time after he defeats Pariah Dark and they begin calling him "great one" just as the yetis do in the far frozen. This is where he meets the twins -- a pair of sibling ghosts who call themselves Trixie and Missy (short for Trick and Mislead) -- who aren't quite as passionate as Ambroise but more energetic than Aki. Eventually they also start calling Danyal "my moon" and attach themselves to his hip, even within the living. They like to hide in his shadow and cause trouble for the rest of the students. He makes sure they don't hurt anyone.

He's pretty sure Aki is jealous, same with Ambroise, but he can't be too certain other than the fact that they become much more lingering (re: clingy) whenever he visits the island.. Something he's trying to do much more often these days due to the increasing amount of people living there now. Since when did he become so popular?

Then there's Pēnelópeia from the Greater Athens, who ran away from home and joined his Island after he ran into her while she was being chased by Skulker -- and he's pretty sure the reason was because of her chimeric appearance. Her strange eyes and mismatched wings and lion's tail and talons. She assimilates into his friend group very easily, she gets along well with Ambroise and Trixie and Danny usually finds the three of them climbing the trees to pluck the most fruit from the top. They can fly and he knows it, but they prefer to climb.

Then finally there's silent poet Akkara who comes from ancient mesopotamia, who gets along most with Aki -- which is no surprise there considering their similar personality dispositions. he watches Aki and Danyal fight each other and leaves comments on this or that that he notices. He writes Danyal poems on clay tablets and leaves them by his room.

They're one big mismatched group of outcasts, and Danny's got the other ghosts on his island to tend to, because they're living on his island and he wants to be hospitable even if he struggles with that. But he spends the most of his time with them.

Sam and Tucker are making fun of him. Tucker jokingly tells him 'careful Danny, at this rate you're gonna start a cult'. Danny really wishes he had taken that joke more seriously.

He just. keeps. collecting people. Wayward souls lost in the zone, looking for shelter or refuge from something or other -- whether that be another hostile ghost, or a past afterlife, or just a purpose. Danyal finds them, he takes them in, offers them a place on his island until they are ready to leave. Many seldom do. He's not complaining -- he has the space, and it feels like it's only ever growing.

His close friends, his "inner circle" as he's heard the others call them, keep insistently calling him "my moon". He starts calling them his stars, because then it only feels fair. They're his stars, this is his constellation. It becomes a thing; little star halos begin forming behind their heads, picking them out from the rest. He loves them so much, it's hard to place. Sam and Tucker are also his stars, but they reside in the living realm, they're his tie to Life. Meanwhile, his friends here know what it's like to be dead, and sometimes its nice to relate.

Those living on his island keep calling him "Great One" and he's beginning to notice zealotry in their care for his island. He really, deeply appreciates it. His close friends gain nicknames -- as his stars, it's only natural for him to pick them out from the cluster in the skies. Akihiko, his Sirius and bright star. Trix and Missy, Castor and Pollux, the twins and troublemakers. Ambroise, his zealous Antares and close friend. Penelopeia, chimeric and loyal Vega. And Akkara, his Arcturus and strength.

It's ridiculous how long it takes for him to notice; he is, of course, a deadly trained assassin. He is meant to be observant -- and normally he is! But somehow this becomes a blind spot. One that becomes too big to be dealt with by the time he realizes it.

He should've noticed when Aki, his Sirius, stood beside him one day while Danyal looked over his island and saw the sprawling spirits carrying on about their afterlife and bowing to him as they saw him, and said: "I looked down into the depths when I met you; I couldn't measure it." They aren't one for flowing prose, it took him so off guard he was silent for over a minute before he finally spoke.

Danyal should've recognized devotion for what it is, and yet he didn't. He should've recognized it when Antares began spouting praises about him, crowing about his radiance and resplendence to the heavens. He just brushed it off as Ambroise being Ambroise. He should've recognized it when Trix and Missy nearly broke Dash's leg after he knocked Danyal's books out of his hands, he excused it as them being protective. Of them coming from times where such violence may have been customary -- after all, that's what he used to be like. What he was still like, sometimes, when his emotions nearly got the better of him.

He should've noticed it when the people living on his island followed his word like gospel, looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky. When his friends gifted him a shawl with the moon phases delicately embroidered into it, with silver, shimmering thread and moving stars lovingly stitched into it. Their constellations seen clear as day in the dark fabric. When he found small shrines dedicated to him -- but they lacked any image of him beyond stones carved to look like moons, so he ignored it. When the religious imagery began popping up.

He really, really should've noticed it when a bunch of cultists accidentally summoned Antares, and Antares had turned to him when he arrived and called them heretics. But he was so centered on the fact that they had kidnapped one of his stars, that he hadn't paid much attention to what Ambroise had said.

Sages say that faith is blind, they should also say faith in you is even blinder.

It really only hits him one afternoon while he's sitting in Sam's room studying with Tucker, Missy and Trixie lounging at his feet, Aki sat on his right, Penelopeia braiding his hair, Ambroise draped against him, and Akkara lurking over him. Its one of the rare few times they're all in one room together.

It hits him like a bolt of lightning. He looks up from his textbook. "Oh Ancients," he says in no amounting shock. Everyone looks up to him.

"I've become my grandfather."

[cosmal]

beer pong — send me a lyric + a character n i’ll write u a blurb

ok soo this line from means something by lizzy: ‘I felt the way that you kissed me, when we got too drunk that night, and that has to mean something’ with remus perhaps!!!

drunk mistakes

content remus lupin x reader

summary you kiss remus, drunk, at a party. the next time you see him you have some things to say.

note okay cocky remus is my fav remus im sorry!!!! But also thank u for Remus n Lizzy mal omg rahhhhh

You can hear Remus laughing from the kitchen.

You sit with Lily and Mary but you're not really listening. You hope they're not talking to you, Remus's laugh is like music to your ears.

"Hello?" Mary waves her hand infront of your face and you blink. You have it in you to look embarrassed but you don't feel it.

"Sorry," you clear your throat. "What did you say?"

"We're going to the kitchen to do shots." Lily says, smiling, "You're coming."

"I've had four margarita's," you tell them, but still let them lift you from the couch. "One more drink and I might end up in the peonies like Frank did last time."

"Lucky its not a drink," Mary says and takes you by the hand, "it's a shot!"

You let them guide you into the kitchen and you can't help but look for Remus immediately. You feel a little silly when he's not looking back.

You stand back as they fill glasses with way too much black sambuca. You hope if you stay behind them, they won't even remember to pour you a shot.

You look up from the mess of liquour on the bench top and watch Remus turn and make his way to the front hallway. You think about following him and can't find the courage to move your feet. But then James is trying to pass you a shot and you move without thinking.

Remus is sitting in one of the balcony seats when you find him. The warm light from the bulb above him casts him amber where looks down at the drink in his lap.

"I was hoping you'd follow me out here," he says. He doesn't look up from his glass.

You want to laugh. "Am I supposed to be a mind reader now?"

"No," Remus is stern. "I just know you too well."

This time a snort makes it way from your nose and you tamp it down. "You've known me a month, tops."

"I've known my friends since first year, they've never had their tongue down my throat." He turns to look at you finally, there's a glint in his eyes you haven't seen yet. A month, you remind yourself.

You choke. You don't know what to say, partially because he's right. "I know for a fact, Sirius Black has had his way with you."

He laughs into the tequila-soda he has pressed against his mouth and shakes his head. You don't know what to do with yourself, you didn't think about what you'd do once you were out here — you never even thought you'd be left alone with Remus again.

"Are you gonna sit down?" Right, yeah.

You sit beside him, and you're painfully aware of how close you are —close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his body, but not close enough to bridge the ache growing in your chest.

You want to lean in, just enough to feel his breath stir against your skin, to know if he’d flinch or freeze or maybe, just maybe, lean in too.

But it's like he's afraid of being known too well or touched too deeply. He holds himself in quiet tension, a soft-spoken mystery wrapped in secondhand sweaters and lingering glances that say nothing and everything all at once.

You haven’t spent much time with him — less than you’d like to admit, given how often he slips into your thoughts, uninvited but never unwelcome. Still, every moment near him feels like a held breath, like something on the edge of becoming.

"Not drinking anymore?" He asks. He presses the bottom of his glass against your bare thigh, leaving a line of condenstation up against your skin.

"I don't want a repeat of last time," you laugh. You're covered in goosebumps — from the cold drink or his presence, you're not sure.

"Last time was fun!" You know what he means. "I like drunk you."

You sometimes wonder if Remus will only ever kiss you when there’s just enough liquor in both your veins to kill a horse. Not because he doesn’t want to — no, you feel it in the way his eyes linger, in the quiet moments where his hand almost reaches for yours. He's doing it right now. But you don’t know what hurts more, that he might only reach for you when he's not entirely himself, or that you’d still let him.

He's staring at the side of your face and it burns. You can't bring yourself to look at him. Not when you can picture the way he's looking back at you. With soft eyes and an even softer smile. A boy with a face like that might kill you if he tried hard enough.

"Drunk me does dumb shit."

He turns away and you're half relieved, half disapointed. You're not sure if liquid courage is a bad thing or not. One more margarita and you might have enough confidence to at least look him in the eyes. You hate him for making you so nervous.

"Kissing me was dumb?"

You blink, and then swallow so hard that it hurts. "No," you mumble, and then, louder, "No, kissing you wasn't dumb. Me falling asleep on Mary's bathroom floor, that was dumb."

Remus chuckles. "Right. Okay, good."

"You were drunk too."

There's a beat of slience, only laughter from inside, and the crickets in the grass are to be heard. "I'm not drunk right now."

You're not exactly sure when Remus ended up so close. You’d been so careful about keeping your distance, watching where you sat. Maybe you were too focused on staying away to notice him getting closer.

"I'm not going to let you kiss me again just to end up drunk at another party, right back in this same situation."

Remus is already leaning in, his hand is already reaching for your face. "I'll kiss you whenever you want me to." His hands are cold, you don't care. You wonder if his lips are the same. "Tequila or not, I'll kiss you whenever."

[polarisjisung]

ꨄ ME AND THE KITCHEN WITH DIAMOND RINGS

COOKING KISSING W/ BF!MARK

wc: 0.5k warnings: uhh they makeout ig notes: i can't believe mark released 200 a whole year ago | LIBRARY

Mark can't cook. It's a simple fact that everyone knows.

But Mark isn't stupid. Anyone can follow a few instructions and throw a few things into a pot, stirring every once in a while to make sure things don't stick, and he's no different. He's done it a thousand times before and as long as he doesn't lose focus or slip up, which unfortunately happens a little too often for his liking, it goes pretty well.

So maybe, it's not really that Mark can't cook, more that he shouldn’t.

You can though, and your cooking, if you do say so yourself, isn't too bad, pretty good in fact.

So Haechan, cannot for the life of him understand why, when you and Mark are in the kitchen together, the food always turns out a little caramelised. Burnt, if he wasn't trying to protect your feelings.

He walked into the kitchen last week to the smell of something a little charred, noticing how you and Mark were already sighing and groaning about how difficult it'd be too clean the pot.

“You burned the food again?” he couldn't even act surprised, “What even happens in here when you two cook together.”

He should've figured from the way your cheeks flushed over and the tips of Mark’s ears turned red, but Haechan was too focused on hunting for something to satisfy his hunger from your fridge.

And you couldn't have been more glad that he didn't push any further, because God knows how you'd live it down.

But Mark doesn't seem to care. Not about being caught, and definitely not about the stew bubbling away on the stove on one end of the kitchen, because he had his arms looped around your waist, placing kisses to your cheek even after you'd both agreed to actually cook this time.

“Mark.’ You warned.

Your voice wasn't exactly intimidating or anything, so with a grin, he only continued to place kisses across your face, eventually trailing down your neck, in hopes he would change your mind.

But your grip on the spoon was firm, for all of maybe five minutes.

Soon enough your back was against the counter and your lips were moving against his, a hand pressed against his chest.

“Mark, we should really–”

He cut you off, “Kiss some more?” He smiled, taking in your features for a moment, “Yeah I agree.”

“Mark the food.”

He shrugged, pulling you into for another kiss, “Just one more.”

That was a lie if you'd ever heard one.

Because soon enough, Haechan had come through the kitchen door with two fingers dramatically pinched over his nose. You didn't notice of course.

“Guys I really don't understand how you manage to—.”

You froze, barely processing his words as Mark stumbled back, his hands halfway under your shirt.

“Oh my God.”

All you could do was clear your throat and smooth your hair down, leaving Mark to deal with Haechan, who stood in the doorway, mouth agape.

“I should've known you didn’t burn the food by accident.” He muttered, running a hand through his hair.

“Dude we were um, multitasking?”

Haechan scoffed, “What trying to start a family while making dinner?”

tags: @nebularsung @suzayaaa @nanawrlds @sinisxtea @dearlyminhyung @flaminghotyourmom @jisworlds @jenobubbles @nctdreamchaser @lotties-readings @mystverse @chenlezip @blondemrk @17ericas @ayukas

[dexxtrosee]

All the way down

Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x f!reader. Nsfw-ish

He didn’t date much, back in med school.

He wasn't a complete recluse either, contrary to what everyone seems to think about him. He'd go out and join his friends at parties whenever he could, would get tipsy more often than not, black out drunk in some rare ocassions.

But sleeping around was never really his thing. Not because he didn’t get chances, because boy did he, but the few times he did indulge, it made it harder and harder to go back to his dorm and pretend like he wasn't being swallowed by loneliness.

Anyway, the point is, of course he liked a warm body to bury himself into. He liked curves and sharp edges too, liked kneading soft flesh and squeezing muscles. The slick sweat of another body against his drove him crazy, the pants and the moans and the chances he got to have a pretty thing going Robby please, please-

He just doesn't think it’s appropiate to think like that about the cardiology attending that's currently treating his worst trauma case of the week.

He can feel his entire face burst into flames whenever you're near him. The way your scrubs hug your body in the right places, the sweat that pools near your neck after running three floors all the way down because the elevator hasn't been working since monday, how your hands clench and push and pick apart every single thing that comes close to them.

God, he wishes he could be your next subject of study. Let you pick him apart piece by piece, tracing his tattoos and the scar he has on his shoulder, the one that runs down his back, the faded, pale scar that travels down his navel. He can almost see you laughing at the way he'd turn red, at how he'd so willingly become a begging mess if it meant being touched by you.

"I think he'll be fine. You want us to admit him?"

He wouldn’t have called you to help, if he had been the one to decide. He would have called Morrison, the bald guy who has at least ten years on him, or maybe Tannen, the lady who keeps flirting with him despite being married with three kids. Anyone, anyone but you.

He feels intoxicated, way past tipsy and nearing loss of conscience just by getting to smell you, feel your heat radiate into him.

"Could you?"

The tips of his ears turn bright red when he hears how wrecked his voice is. The only other person inside the room is Jesse, because thank goodness for small miracles, but he still has to clear his throat and turn away from you when he notices the predatory smile you're giving him.

You press your hand against his bicep, and he has to brace himself against the patient's bed to repress the flinch. He knows he's breathing a little faster, pupils dilated and a bit stupid from your closeness. Still, he has to try to keep some dignity here.

"For you, Robby? I can admit every single patient you throw at me."

The laugh he lets out borders on hysteric. He doesn’t know what to do, wants to hide away inside his hoodie and strip you out of your bright red scrubs at the same time. His mind is a short-circuit that doesn’t let him think straight whenever you're near.

"I-I would appreciate it if you admited him in cardio, yeah."

He pretends he doesn’t see the way Jesse rolls his eyes before getting out of the room. A man has to lie to himself sometimes, for the sake of sanity.

"Sure thing."

And just like that, you're out of the room without so much as a wave, but a new spring on your step.

Robby notices, distantly, that your smell stayed on the cotton of his sweatshirt.

And his pants feel tighter.

Well, fuck.

[hedwig221b]

On the topic of OG Hale pack fics, any super good sterek ones that really focus on Stiles and the pack but have the flavor of your Derek? I love your Sterek fics but man I'm always sad the Hale Pack doesn't feature more prominently. (Og hales being derek, boyd, erica, issac, jackson, and peter.)

yk you should really ask the op @homemadesterekpie since she actually wrote that beautiful post

Stop Crossing Oceans by greenleaf

"There are no absolutes, Scott! No hard rights or hard wrongs! The world doesn’t fucking work that way and we can’t afford to think like that, because people are going to die! We signed up for that the moment we got involved with all this!” “We? We?” Scott hisses. “Don’t you think you? Don’t forget that you’re the one who dragged us into that forest the night it all started, Stiles. So if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s yours.” Something inside Stiles cracks, so strong and so deep that he practically hears it.

My Mother Told Me by Renmackree

Stiles joined the Emissary program to help Alpha wolves settle into their new roles and to follow in his mother’s footsteps. She had always told him he was destined to run with the wolves, but he thought she meant Scott and his pack. Instead, Stiles finds himself sent to Thingvallavatn, Iceland, with Alpha Derek Hale. It's clear the Alpha is hiding a part of him that Stiles can’t reach, but when a monster comes to threaten the pack, it’s always great to have someone in your corner with a little mischief up their sleeve

Choice by Omni

Derek knows what it feels like to not really have a choice, what it's like to be manipulated. He'd never take away someone's right to choose freely. The fear of even accidentally doing so is enough to hold him back from acting on his own feelings. Stiles has never had a problem making his own choices, and fuck anyone who would try to tell him he can't. (Or: Stiles gets bitten by a different alpha, but of course would prefer to have Derek as his alpha. And also just, you know, have Derek.)

The Comfort of Coming Down by MadcapRomantic

Stiles isn't the only human in the pack, but, more often than not, he's the most vulnerable.

Derek Didn't Know What To Do But Maybe Stiles Did by tiedtogetherwithadagger

He let his head fall onto Stiles’ shoulder with a sigh of relief. He wasn't losing his pack, at least not tonight. Erica would be okay. “Thank you,” Derek exhaled into Stiles’ hoodie. “Always,” Stiles said.

The Human of the Pack by smilingbuckley

Slowly, Derek's pack starts to act nice to Stiles and accept him in the pack after Scott basically abandoned him to have his secret moments with Allison.

The Boy Who Tamed the Sourwolf by AllTheseSquaresMakeACircle

Stiles is used to being second tier in everyone's life. How easily people forget him and move on to bigger and better things. Used to always being in someone's shadow. Leave it to Derek Hale to shatter those expectations.

Go Away, Scott by HelloWhyTheFuckAmIHere

After the incident at the warehouse, Stiles is fed up with Scott. He finds himself drawn into Derek’s pack and in the process, drawn to Derek himself. With the Alpha Pack closing in, Derek needs to learn how to trust his pack and those around him. And who better to help him than Stiles?

Protect and Serve by MoonlitMemories

Stiles discovers the Nemeton starting to grow again in the preserve on Hale land. What does that mean for the pack? More importantly: why does the Nemeton seem so attached to Stiles?

Anthracite by LupusScintilla (inkandblade)

It's been a quiet few years, and the McCall Pack has grown and settled. But, when the Hale Pack return to Beacon Hills they find Scott isn't as welcoming as they had hoped. Soon they, Stiles, and Lydia, find out that not everything about the McCall Pack is as it has always seemed.

also if my fics make you sad then maybe write your own with all the characters that you want ❤

[masterlist link]

[onepieceisreeeeaaalll]

Frozen Leaves - Zoro x Fem!Reader

I've been wanting to write a more romantic smutty fic for Zoro. It's been stuck in my head, so here it is!

Summary: You and Zoro haven't been intimate in weeks. It's time to change that.

Tags: Angst, smut w plot

CW: NSFW MDNI! P in v, fingers, L word, wound/injury mention

If you like stuff like this, check out my masterlist!

~4k

The gentle creaking of the ship sounds louder than usual. It's undercut by the way the wind whips the sails towards a new horizon, a destination wrought with excitement and adventure. While normally you'd take the time to admire such a beautiful sight, noticing the way the full moon reflects on the waves, there's one problem on your mind that keeps you from fully relaxing. 

You are hopelessly, ridiculously horny, and your boyfriend hasn't touched you in three weeks. 

It's not for lack of trying on your part. Things just haven't aligned with Zoro. Rushing from one destination to another, focusing on staying strong and getting stronger, it's hard to really make time for something as mundane as sex. Sure, you've worn your best dresses and tightest shirts in hopes he'd notice. Yes, of course, you've ran your fingers over his biceps in admiration after he's completed a workout. There's even been a few times where you've just shamelessly whispered dirty compliments into his ear at dinner. He still hasn't touched you yet. Hasn't even made a move, or given you those heated glances you've grown familiar with. So, clearly, everything must just be too busy. He's just tired, or stressed, or focused. Of course.  

It doesn't change the fact that you've been really, really trying. That's what makes it all the more frustrating. The lack of sex would be one thing, but the lack of intimacy is just as wrong. Chaste kisses and hands accidentally brushing have been the most action you've received in weeks. Compared to the busy sex schedules you usually kept, it's a marked change. It's got you rutting your pillow, grabbing at whatever toy you have in your arsenal at the slightest glance from him. Like some love-struck virgin. 

Tonight is going to be different, though. You've gotten a bottle of wine from the last port the crew had stopped in. What's more, you've picked out your best form-fitting dress, done your hair, your makeup. It would be painfully obvious to anyone else on board that you're trying to get laid. Luckily, everyone else seems to get the message because they steer clear as you walk with confidence from the interior of the ship. 

Holding the bottle of wine in your hand, you walk across the deck and up to the crow's nest. Any potential enemies on the horizon will have to wait. The entire time you ascend, you work to push any sort of insecurities from your mind. He's just been busy - and, to be honest, Zoro gets a one-track mind when there's a goal to accomplish. It has nothing to do with you, or how you look, or what you say or do. It has everything to do with Zoro just not getting the hint. Obviously. 

You push open the latch to the crow's nest, and you're immediately met with the sight of your boyfriend lifting weights. As per usual. It'd be hot if not for how often he's done it in favor of fucking you. Right - focus. It's not you. It's him.

“Want company?” You ask, giving a playful smile as you climb the rest of the way inside. 

Zoro doesn't stop. He continues, sparing you a cursory glance before returning his gaze to the wall ahead. 

“Just working out.” He replies simply.

Ouch. Maybe he just didn't notice your dress. 

You hum and walk towards him, closing the small space as slowly as you can. A sway of your hips - oh, right, push your breasts together. That'll work. You hold the bottle of wine close to you, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“You could use a break. You've been at it all day.” You say, placing a careful hand on your hip. “Have a drink with me.”

Zoro huffs. Not just huffs, he doesn't even look at you, and the motion of raising the barbell is so stupidly distracting that you could almost forget to be mad. Almost. He just keeps lifting those weights, the clanking sound entirely too loud in your ears. 

“Can't. Maybe later.”

Your jaw clenches, and if your grip were any stronger, it'd break the bottle of wine to pieces in your hand. The way those muscles move and contract, the sweat glistening down those pecs…when was the last time he even showered? Who cares? You'd still lick his abs and thank god for the electrolytes.

God, you need to get laid.

“I brought wine. You can spare a few minutes.” You say, and your tone is sharp. Zoro should know what that means, having been on the receiving end of that voice more than once. There's little room for argument. Which is what makes his response all the more infuriating.  

“Not saké?”

Saké. Saké. He's got to be joking. 

This isn't about the damn alcohol, or the fact that he's working out, or any of it. That tone in his voice sounds clipped, and now you're even more heated. He still hasn't properly looked at you, and you're certain that you made yourself as sexually appealing as possible. If your face were flushed with anything else before, it's completely red with frustration now. 

But you're quiet. Watching him lift those stupid weights. Because you're currently weighing your own words very carefully. 

“Why won't you look at me?”

“What are you-”

“I'll be more clear.” You say, and you take a step towards him, placing your hand on his arm. Here goes. “Why won't you fuck me?” 

Those words hang in the air, and for a moment, Zoro holds the barbell above his head. He still hasn't looked. It’s only a few more seconds before the weights drop the ground, loudly, and Zoro finally looks at you. But he doesn't let his gaze linger on your body for more than a moment. His eye is trained on your face, and his own expression is just as frustrated as yours. 

He hasn't responded, though, and that flares up that twist in your gut further. Taking a deep breath, you grab his arm, demanding his attention. The fact that he doesn't seem to be coming up with a real response is damn near maddening. 

“I said, why won't you fuck me?” You repeat, eyes narrowing. “It's been three weeks, almost a month-”

“I know how long it's been-”

“And that doesn't bother you?” You retort, and you push his arm away as you cross to the weight bench. Placing the wine bottle down, you let out a groan. “I'm basically throwing myself at you every chance I get - every chance - and I don't know how much more obvious I can get! Three weeks; there was a time when you couldn't keep your hands off me for three days. What - are you just not attracted to me anymore? Am I not fuckable?”

“That's not-!” 

“Then what? What is it?” You snap, turning your gaze back onto him. “Are you not into me anymore? Are you-?”

“Will you let me talk?” Zoro retorts, and his tone leaves no room for argument. 

Gritting your teeth, you take a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself down. It's not helping, and everything in your body is screaming with the urge to keep laying into him. But, fine. If he wants to talk, you'll let him. It's better than being ignored or shoved aside. 

When Zoro's certain you're quiet, he lets out a deep sigh. His gaze finally does flicker over your form, but only for a moment, before he looks down at the ground. 

“I haven't figured out what to say to you yet. Or how to say it.” Zoro starts, and his tone is laced with some kind of unfamiliar frustration. You nod slowly. “I've been thinking about some things. Ever since that island we were on a few weeks back.”

A few islands back…that was around when this started. But thinking? Oh no. Oh no, no.

“Zoro-”

“Let me finish.” He says firmly, his brows furrowing in irritation. You clench your jaw, your eyes threatening to spill with tears. He continues. “I've been thinking. Remember when you got all banged up, and Chopper had to stitch up a wound you got?”

You remember it vividly. It was a stray shot from a Marine that narrowly missed, and luckily, you were able to take that Marine down fairly quickly. It was really not as dramatic as Zoro made it sound. A gunshot that grazed just enough skin to warrant stitches. Nothing more. 

“Yes.” You reply carefully. 

“I-...” Zoro sighs, shaking his head. “Worried the hell out of me, seein’ you like that. I should have stopped it.”

“What?” You respond immediately, a small, confused scoff exiting your lips. “Zoro, that wasn't your fault. You were busy with your own fight, so it's not something you-”

“Doesn't matter.” He snaps, and you watch as his hands curl into fists at his sides. “You think anyone else woulda let you out of their sight if they felt about you the way I do? Curly brows? Luffy?”

You're frozen, not really sure what to say. It's clear this has been bothering him, and you feel this distinct rise of frustration in you yet again. You don't move - not yet - and you halt in favor of letting him finish. 

With a huff, Zoro brings a hand up to his hair, running it through his green locks.  

“You're strong. Not saying you aren't capable of handling yourself.” He says, his voice slow and careful. “But I'm not a fan of watching you run head-first into danger. Couldn't figure out why it bothered me so much for a while.”

That frustration still sits heavy in your chest, but finally, you take a few steps forward. The short distance between you both is slowly closing, and with the way your heart is hammering, it's hard to think clearly. 

“So, what did you figure out, going celibate for a month?” You ask, and although your words are playful, the tone is still slightly bitter. And concerned. 

Zoro doesn't say anything. Not yet. He doesn't pull his gaze from the ground where it's fixed, but it's clear that your approach is getting to him. His muscles are twitching. 

“I wasn't purposely choosing to go celibate.” He snorts, his brows furrowed. “But I figured it out. A while ago, actually.”

You're finally standing right in front of him, and your hands ache to reach out and grab him. Instead, you keep them at your sides, willing them to behave. The way he's breathing isn't lost on you - labored and not from the workout. 

“What have you been avoiding, then?” 

It's quiet. The gentle creaking of the ship is no longer in your ears. The crashing of the waves and flapping of the sails of no consequence. All that can be heard and matters are the words that fall from Zoro's lips, spoken so quietly and harshly that the dichotomy of it is overwhelming. 

“I'm in love with you.”

Zoro finally looks up at you, his eye locked on yours to really ensure you hear him correctly. It's spoken without remorse, without a hint of doubt. It's as solid and brutal as he is, and the impact of the words hit as hard as a slash from his sword would have. Out of everything you'd expected, everything you'd hoped, this wasn't even a possibility you entertained. 

Lips part, and before you realize what you've done, your mouth has crashed into Zoro’s. Your hands grip at his face, his own grip wherever they can reach - your waist, your hips, your back. It's all tongue, lips, and moans as the dam of pent-up feelings and hormones rage through the both of you. Your dress is unzipped, and Zoro's calloused hands grasp at your back as his lips move from yours to connect with your jaw. You gasp as little nips and heated kisses working their way along your flesh. 

“I'm in love with you, too.” You say breathlessly, and Zoro's chuckle vibrates against your skin. “You were avoiding me because-?”

Zoro trails his kisses up to your ear, tugging at your earlobe with his teeth before licking around the shell. The way you shiver at this makes him grin against your skin. 

“Didn't know how to bring it up. And then too much time passed.” He breathes, and his kisses trail down from your ear to your neck. 

His hands have finished the zipper of your dress, and he pulls the fabric off your shoulders, letting the dress drop to the floor after pushing it past your hips. His hands find your thighs, pulling you up and carrying you to the weight bench. He's only mildly distracted by the heated kisses placed on your neck. 

“I thought you wanted to break up.” You reply, and even though you're trying to sound firm, the breathy quality undermines it. “You'd better apologize.”

“Mm, working on it.”

Zoro sets you down on the bench, his fingers tugging at the clasp of your bra. He unclips it quickly with some help from you, chucking it aside as his lips fall against your collarbone. Your head tilts back, hands moving across his bare torso, dipping down beneath the fabric of his pants. His breath catches in his throat, and he nips at the top of your breast in retaliation. 

“Really missed me that much, you can't wait?” Zoro teases, but his voice holds mild restraint for the sexual frustration he feels. 

You groan, and just to answer his question, you delve your hand further into his pants. Your hand finds his cock fairly quickly, feeling the way it strains against his underwear, and you rub your palm against it firmly with no hesitation. 

“Three weeks.” You remind him, and his moan undercuts how frustrated you're trying to make him. 

“Alright - alright, I get it.” He responds breathlessly, and his hands move to undo the buttons. 

Clothes fly everywhere - a bellywarmer, a sash, pants - until, finally, mercifully, you and Zoro are both as naked as you've been dreaming. Carelessly, the bottle of wine you'd brought gets kicked aside in your haste, but it's a secondary concern to Zoro's lips finding yours again. You moan as your tongues lap and curl, intertwining with a heated passion. He settles against your body, one hand firmly entangled in your hair and the other traveling down your stomach. The moment his fingers brush your clit, you moan in approval against his mouth. 

His lips disconnect from yours as he buries his face into your neck, letting out heated pants. Hasty fingers circle against your clit, pressing and rubbing the sensitive skin.

“Missed this.” He murmurs, placing a kiss against your neck. “Missed how you felt around my fingers.” 

“Zoro-!” You moan breathlessly, your head falling back against the bench. 

His fingers trail lower, finding your entrance with practiced ease. There's little resistance when he slips his middle finger inside, your velvet walls enveloping him perfectly. 

“Fuck, you're so wet for me. Don't know how I went this long.” 

You don't have time to respond before Zoro has already added a second digit. He pumps his fingers into you, curling them with precision. His thumb works clumsily on your clit, and he pulls out only to spread to your slick across your slit before he's plunging them back in. After not having been touched by him for so long, the rough skin of his hands touching you so gently but so adeptly has you grasp at his shoulders. 

His lips move down from your neck, kissing along your collarbone, licking a path straight to your breasts. Every pump of his fingers is paired with a gasp or a moan from you, and Zoro can't contain the groans that reverberate from his chest. The movements are impatient, led by a lust that helps affirm his desire for you. Based on his sounds, he's getting off just on the way you feel around his fingers. His mouth finds your breasts, tongue and teeth latching onto a nipple to tease. You're falling apart embarrassingly quickly, and as you tighten around his fingers, he nips at your breast above your nipple. 

“Cum for me, pretty girl. Let go.” He murmurs, and you tumble over the edge easily. 

Your back arches, and you're still throbbing around his fingers when he pulls them out. A sheen layer of sweat covers you from the intensity, and a hiss leaves you as you feel his cock teasing against your folds. Zoro has already sat up above where you lay on the bench, dick in hand as he covers himself in your fluids. One of your hands falls to cover his at your hip, and your other drifts to your messy hair. 

“Beautiful.” Zoro says, and the breathless whisper has you melting. “I'm sorry for making you think I ever thought anything else.”

The apology, direct and earnest, is as unexpected as his earlier confession. Before yoy have the time to express your surprise, his cock raises and falls onto your clit. Heavy, thick, with an inflamed head that tells you his words are true. There's no sense in worrying about if he's attracted to you, because that vein running up his length looks ready to burst. 

"You want me, pretty girl? Can I fuck you and show you how much I want you?” 

A shuddering exhale leaves you, because the way his tip presses into your clit is mind-melting. You're not sure if the sensitivity is from going without sex for so long, or if that's just the effect he has on you. You give a nod, your hand tightening on his over your hip. 

“Please.”

That plea, so sweet and desperate, softens Zoro's expression. A flicker of guilt, maybe. But he moves his cock, angling his hips, and slowly slides into you. He's big, as usual, and your fingers the past few weeks have done little to compensate for that stretch he always provides. The way you envelop him forces a groan from Zoro, and he leans over you so your foreheads are pressed. Adjusting to your tight pussy, you can tell he's just as bad off as you are. 

He pushes a little further, and a hand of his reaches up to cup your face. A calloused thumb brushes over your bottom lip, and the way he holds your gaze is captivating in the way it reflects that love he expressed. There's no doubt when his eye glitters when it bores into yours.

“I mean it.” Zoro mumbles, his nose brushing yours. “I love you.” 

“Love you, too.” You whisper immediately, and you clasp your hand over his on your face. “I love you so much, Zo.”

With that, his brows furrow as his hips start to move. It's slow to start, slower than you're used to, but the angle ensures that he's able to move deep within your pussy. Your legs wrap around his waist as his cock threatens to brush that deep spot his fingers did earlier. Breaths mingle as shared moans of ecstasy ripple between you. Your hand moves to tangle in his hair when his face buries into your neck. 

His lips kiss at your pulse point, sucking gently along your flesh as his hips move with a little more intent. The weight bench creaks with each move, but it's not a concern to you. You're more concerned with the hushed praises as his hand travels down your side. He finds your free hand, lacing your fingers together, his other hand still held to your face. 

“Love you…you're so fucking beautiful…’m sorry…” He murmurs, and his lips travel up to the edge of your jaw again. 

You can barely think, everything spiraling as he does more than just fuck you. He's making love, something entirely unexpected after being pent up for so long. But it's perfect.

“It's okay,” You whisper, your breath shaking as he picks up his pace. “Love you.”

“Fuck, you're so tight…always feels good on my cock…taking it like you're made for me.” He groans, and he places more opened mouth kisses while his hips start to move harder into yours. 

His hand at your face moves to splay across your hip, spreading over you like you're something precious. Something to protect. Zoro's nose nudges your ear, his teeth nibbling at your earlobe only briefly before he's licking at it gently. Your hands move to grasp at his back, and the speed of which he fucks you is slower than usual, but still fast. Needy. It's getting more desperate. 

“Ah - Zoro, yes! Please-!”

“Never have to beg again.” He grunts, kissing your ear again. “I'll fuck you whenever you want. I'll - nng, fuck - do whatever you want.”

You gasp at the way he ruts into you, his body pushing into yours with a passionate force. He's twitching inside you, and your nails dig into the muscles in his shoulders. Not enough to mark, but to latch onto him, to cling and ensure he doesn't leave. His cock is deep, pushing against that gspot enough to cause your plush walls to tighten. It's all but ensured to make you cum soon, and when his hand on your hip moves to rub his thumb over your clit, you know you're on a short timer. His other hand moves from your hand to your hip, pulling your body into his, as if the force of his own pelvis isn't satisfactory enough for him.

He picks his face up from your neck, pressing his lips into yours again. It's a brief kiss, only long enough for his tongue to lick at the roof of your mouth, and when it breaks, his eye is trained on your face. The way the moonlight falls onto your features, your messy hair spilling over the bottom of the weight bench, your eyes half-lidded with desire - it takes his breath away, and you watch as his expression shifts. It's nearly unrecognizable, the way his edges seem to smooth out. 

The way he regards you is nothing to the way you regard him. At least in your mind. Chiseled muscles, strong features, all highlighted by the way he moves and breathes. One of your hands moves from his back to trace over the scar on his eye, and his lips part at the sensation. 

“Love you - don't stop.” You urge, a moan slipping past your lips as your head rocks to the side. You can't look at him. You're already on the edge. 

But that isn't good enough for him because his lips seek yours, leaning down to pull your face back towards him. It's searing, but tender; passionate, yet gentle. A mix of confusing movements and feelings that you can't quite lay a finger on. He nips at your lip, demanding your attention, craving every bit of devotion you give him. 

“Love you, too.” He mumbles against your lips. “Cum with me. Cum on my cock, pretty girl.”

With a few angled pumps, deliberate and amplified with how he pulls your hip, you can feel the world crashing around you. The smell and sound of sex overwhelms your senses, and he swallows all of your moans with his lips as you tip over into that euphoric bliss. He groans with you, his hand on your hip moving to grip your hair and hold your face to his. It's only a moment after feeling you throb and clench around his cock that he paints your insides with thick ropes of cum. 

The kiss breaks, and his hips still, leaving you both to pant and moan in the small, shared space between you. Your eyes close as you take in the familiar warmth of his that you've missed so much. It's been so long, too long. 

“You're everything.” Zoro breathes, and while you aren't sure exactly what that means, you know it's spoken purposely. “And I'm not going to let us go that long without this again. Don't be an idiot and think for a second that-”

“Shut up.” You laugh, and you pull his lips back down onto your own. He smiles against your lips, and you can feel the way his heart seems to skip against your own chest. “Don't ruin the moment. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” 

[cannibal-alien]

HIHIHIHHI!!!! COULD WE GET AHEM 1x4, DUSEKKAR AND/OR TAPH (SEPERATE) X KILLER READER HCS WHER READER IS ALWAYS IN AT LEAST A BIT OF PAIN AND DOESN'T SPEAK OFTEN OR WELL???? BYE!!!!!

taph, 1x4 & dusekkar x killer! reader w/ chronic pain & speech issues

AAAHHHH yayyy omegosh best lineup ever thank Yuo for requesting nonners!!!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ ✦

💥taph

taph obviously understands what it’s like not to be able to speak. way better than the other survivors actually. but the thing is, with him, you don’t need to speak. sign language, subtle signals, or quick hand cues are more than enough. honestly he prefers it that way! it feels more private, more personal, and if it makes you feel more comfortable, that’s all that really matters anyway.

taph can read your expressions as if they’re simply second nature to him. he notices every little twitch in your face, every flicker of emotion. unfortunately, there’s not much he can do to ease your pain, but he insists on helping where he can. which usually means offering a shoulder to lean on, effectively working as a crutch. taph will even carry your weapon for you to lessen the load.

🦴 1x4

1x4 finds it kind of... endearing, that you don’t always feel like talking. he’s another one who doesn’t mind it much. although communication between you isn’t always clear, and things can get a little fuzzy every now and then, he mostly understands what you’re trying to convey. he’s not completely clueless. 1x4 does enjoy the silence, it’s the one thing that actually helps him relax, really.

he’ll proke & prod about your condition to try and figure out what’s causing your pain and why it keeps happening. he doesn’t pry too hard, but he’s curious and just wants to understand. eventually he gave up and shifted his focus to just being there for you in other ways. he doesn’t always know exactly how to help, and sometimes gets it wrong, but 1x4 does genuinely care for you. much like taph, it shows more in his actions than words.

🎃 dusekkar

you and dusekkar are pretty much always in sync so communication isn’t really much of an issue on this boat either! he might gently encourage you to use your voice sometimes, maybe even offer to do lessons with you to help you improve, but he’d never want to push you or make you feel uncomfortable. he knows your limits, and respects them. he’s quite in tune with your emotions and has no trouble reading you anyway!

if there was anything dusekkar could do to take away your pain, like using his magic, he would do it in a heartbeat. but sadly, it’s just not that easy. dusekkar’s abilities are limited under the spectre’s influence and there’s only so much he can do. but he does, in fact, take the time to gently massage the areas that ache most, and he’ll offer to meditate with you too, or maybe something else similar. he swears it works!