#you can't truly feel the warmth from him... i guess

[letstalkaboutfandomsbaby]

Shota "I will never get married, even to someone I love" Aizawa when he brushes his teeth next to you for the first time: 💦🥵💥😵🤕💫🍆🥴 -rosie

I truly don't know why i feel this way but i have a sneaking suspicion that Shouta Aizawa has an undiscovered marriage kink.

He's a fighter, a rogue, never in the spotlight, always doing his job in the shadows for the sake of saving people, not for the fame. He has few to no valuables because he doesn't believe he'll live long enough to enjoy them.

But then he becomes a teacher, and then he becomes an adoptive parent, and then he meets you. Everything falls into place so nicely and he finds himself smiling at weird times when he's thinking about it all.

But he can't get attached. This is temporary, like all things, and he doesn't want to get so attached that the thought of losing you destroys him. He's been through that once before with a friend, and he doesn't think he can handle it again.

But you're just amazing. He likes you by yourself, but he adores how you treat Eri as your own, making her giggle when you rub your nose against hers, playing with her, cooking for her, you're almost like her mom at this point. Hell, Eri asked him in private last night if you were her new mom, and he didn't know how to answer.

And now it's Friday and you've invited the two of them over for dinner. It's late, your bellies are full, and poor Eri is so tired that she falls asleep watching old movies you used to love as a kid.

"I'm sorry about this," he mumbles, finishing the last of his wine.

"Why are you sorry?" you ask genuinely, filling his glass once more.

"Because Eri fell asleep. Again."

You giggle, but not too loud so you don't disturb her.

"It's fine. You know I adore her. It's always a treat having you two over. Besides, I'm lucky enough to have a guest bedroom, so she can sleep there for the night."

He ponders it, humming.

"I guess I could sleep on the couch."

"Don't be silly. You'll be in my bed with me."

"I don't have a toothbrush."

"I have a couple spares."

"I don't want to intrude."

"I'm offering."

His lips curl on their own accord, and he coughs, straightening out his face.

"Sure. If you're okay with it."

"I'm more than okay with it." You finish your wine, standing from your chair and moving to Eri. "C'mon my sweet love. It's time for bed."

Eri grumbles as you pick her up, arms instinctively wrapping around your neck, her head on your shoulder. The sight warms Aizawa's heart, and he gets up to follow you to the spare bedroom. He pulls back the sheets, lets you set Eri down. You raise a finger, moving to the closet and grabbing something, returning with a teddy bear that's about half Eri's size. You tuck it in next to her, covering her up, leaving the room.

"She should really brush her teeth," Aizawa whispers half heartedly.

"Her baby teeth will survive for one night," you reply, gently shutting the door.

The two of you clean up, brush your teeth, get ready for bed. He undresses with you, crawls into the sheets beside you. Why is his heart beating so fast? Why is his skin feeling clammy?

"Goodnight, Sho." You kiss him briefly, snuggling up to him. He thinks quietly for a moment before rubbing your arm.

"Can we...?" You look up at him.

"You want to?" He nods and you smile slyly. "Okay, but you gotta be quiet."

"You're the one who needs to try and be quiet. Last time at the love hotel we got a complaint."

"Yeah, well Eri wasn't right next door then. Just go lock the door."

He kisses you, locks the door, returns to bed. You make love, you cum together, you fall asleep.

In the morning, you make pancakes, coffee, cut some fruit. You try to tame Eri's hair with a brush as she eats her pancakes with chocolate chips.

Aizawa leans against the counter, drinking his coffee. He watches the two of you, warmth blooming in his chest.

Maybe this is what he wanted all along.

[lenievi]

The Covenant of the Crown (1981): Spock gets hugged like three times and casually holds hands with a character

Double, Double (1989): so happy he didn't offer his hand for me to hold

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

dinner prep engagement ♡

a/n : aaaand its finally here, the final part of the ring pop proposal miniseries after decades !!!! im sorry it took me so long to write this final part yall, i just finally felt enough inspo to write it and im super happy w how it came out ! i hope yall do too ! lemme know if you wanna be added to the taglist ! much luv xx

fem reader, literally pure fluff between mama n son, katsuki gets emotional very quickly bc i believe he does and you cannot make me think otherwise, a lil emotional but pure sweetness, mentions of making dinner, lmk if i missed sum else !!

this time, mitsuki has no idea what her son is planning. sure she’s had her hopes for years now, and her suspicions, but nothing truly concrete.

that is, until she gets a call in the middle of the night.

"katsuki..hello ?" she answers groggily, heaving a sigh and rubbing at her eyes. she checks next to her to make sure she hasn't woken her husband up, her eyes dart over to her digital clock " 'ts one in the morning."

"uh..hey." her son's gruff voice sounds over the phone, she raises a brow at his hesitant tone of voice, but she let's him continue "yeah, i know. sorry.." he mumbles out.

the older woman shakes her head affectionately "it's fine..is there something you wanted to talk about ?"

it's silent on the other end for a while until katsuki mumbles something. "katsuki, you know i can't hear you if you don't speak up." she scolds lightly, causing him to growl under his breath.

"not..not right now, no--just..can i come over tomorrow ?"

taking in her silence for hesitance he continues " it's nothin' bad..i just--feel like it's something i needa say face to face, i guess.."

"okay..yeah, of course. you know you can come over whenever you want." she urges "is yn comin' along ?"

"no, she isn't." she can practically hear his eye roll and it makes her smirk "she'll be busy tomorrow anyway so, not this time. i'll tell her you said hello though, since you're always tellin' me to."

she's about to retort when katsuki speaks again, only not to her. she hears what she knows is your voice quietly chatting with him as he reassures you that he'll be right there with you and for you to go back to bed. the soft tone in his voice makes her eyes soften.

never could she ever have imagined her katsuki ever speaking so softly to anyone, because her katsuki is, despite having calmed down over the years, still quite the brat. (she's pretty sure she knows where he gets it from now..) he's still temperamental when interviewers and journalists get on his nerves. he's still awfully moody , but he's different now. he's just a little bit gentler with the way he handles kids or older women who's cats have gotten stuck in trees. complaining that this isn't his damn job but still doing it anyway with utmost care as the kitties sink their sharp claws into his skin or cling to him for warmth.

he's a still a little rough around the edges but it's the thought that counts. he's different than when he was younger, but he still is the most different with you. his rough and gruff voice that he uses to bark out orders and complain, complain, complain, he uses so softly around you, keeping you as calm and sleepy as possible. it's not perfect, but he manages to usher you back to your room to sleep, and that makes the thought count so much more.

"m'gonna go now." he warns, his mother hums in agreement, telling him she'll see him tomorrow and he reciprocates the goodbye.

"night, ma."

"night, kiddo." she grins, a happy sigh leaving her when she hangs up the call and lays back down. cozying herself up next to her husband.

she's had her suspicions and her hopes for a while now, but she can't be too sure what her son could possibly want from her tomorrow.

katsuki comes back home like he's never left.

the day goes like any other day would've went a few years ago when he was still living in the family home. mitsuki almost expects her son to run off upstairs to do his homework.

he greets his dad with a half hug, and is forced into a tight embrace by his mother, which he grumbles about. grumbles turning into a growl when she grips his cheek, scolding him for not greeting his mother properly.

it's a lot of catching up from the few months he's been busy with hero work. talking about his latests achievements and his quick climbing of the hero ranks, accompanied with barely suppressed smiles and softened eyes when you're brought up. mitsuki remembers how nervous he'd been when he'd told her he was planning on asking you to move in with him, so she's happy to hear from the both of you, since she has your number and you like to catch up every now and then, that everything was going well. though she already knew it would.

katsuki volunteered to help with dinner, his mother happily agreeing saying she could use some help. it makes her a little bit nostalgic and she wills herself not to get teary eyed at how much her son has grown.

but she sees that the opportunity has presented itself to bring up the topic that's been on the tip of her tongue the entire day now.

"so.." she sings "you wanted to talk about something, right ?"

katsuki stiffens like he'd forgotten, although his expression stays the same besides the slight squint of his eyes. the rhythmic cutting of vegetables has stopped and it takes him a moment before he speaks quietly like he's revealing a secret.

"i wanna ask yn to marry me."

oh.

so that was it.

"oh." she breathes immediately. a broad smile slowly grows onto her face and she beams "took you long enough, ya brat !" she exclaims, slapping her sons muscular arm. he growls lowly at her, leaning away from her though she remains undeterred. poking at his sides while he tries to smack her hands away.

finally, she relents "when are you gonna ask ?" she asks excitedly. katsuki huffs, eyebrows still heavily furrowed from her earlier attack. he turns back to the cutting board "soon. i arranged my schedule and we'll both be free, so in two weeks from now."

"you already have a ring ?"

he grunts in agreement. and mitsuki besides being proud of the fact her hunch was right, feels her heart warms at the burst of nostalgia of her little boy. her katsuki, kicking his feet in the backseat of her car. tightly gripping his bag of ring pop candies he'd give to you the next day. her little katsuki, who'd proudly claimed he was going to marry you when he grew up in that very same car, exclaiming that he'd proposed to you with those very same candies he'd almost had a tantrum over her not getting.

her little boy, who'd gotten oh so big, and so, so much more enamoured with you.

"good." she utters sweetly, voice just a bit wobbly "good. that's great, katsuki."

he nods to himself " i've thought about it for a while now..long while." he scoffs to himself, eyes focused on the cutting board in front of him. "got the whole day planned out too."

"yeah ?" he nods. her eyes soften as he speaks mostly to himself, he's had this little self hype up habit ever since he was a boy. trying to calm himself down and reassure himself. it's a smart move, but as strong and mature as he is, katsuki is nothing more than human. and anxieties can creep up on the best of us.

she's seen it before, and she sees it again when he bites his bottom lip in thought, and she smiles softly.

and again, she coaxes him into it " that sounds nice, looks like you got it all planned out, huh?"

and he nods again. but it doesn't take him, long before he breaks.

"..what if she says no ?"

and mitsuki wants to laugh. she really does, because the thought of you ever saying no to him sounds absolutely ridiculous to her. she snorts. shaking her head while her son looks at her incredulously.

"katsuki.." she tuts, chuckling to herself before she looks up at him. "you've got absolutely nothing to worry about. you've got it."

his eyes widen, then her son's expression drops as he raises a brow "how do you know that ?" his words make her smile widen this much more and she really wants to laugh.

how does she know. she scoffs

she knows because she knows him. she knows her katsuki better than anyone else, he's her son. she knows he's rude, rowdy, quipy, temperamental and everything else. he's all of that and so much more.

and yet you still love him. you're still so incredibly patient with him, you still offer him all of your kindness despite him once confessing to her he doesn't understand how you do. despite all of the times he's messed up, the times he's fallen down, you stay by his side you care for him, you care about him.

she knows her katsuki is absolutely infatuated with you, he always has been. from tantrums about being separated in class and knowing your favourite ice cream flavour to him being overly protective over you when you were paired up with your lab partner that ended up not being him and to him wearing the stupid stuffy tux mitsuki tailor made for him to take you to prom.

you've always been his number one best friend, but he's always been yours as well : he loves you, but you love him just as much.

and so mitsuki smiles "call it mother's intuition. and, not to brag, but i think most of my hunches have been right by now" and it widens when katsuki scoffs and rolls his eyes at her boasting, another bratty little habit he has that he's practically mastered over the years. she sighs, spreading her arms out towards him "well come over here. you've gone and gotten so damn tall, i can't reach you myself !" her son rolls his eyes again, but he scoffs softly to himself and with a shake of his head, he closes the distance and hunches over to hug his mother. she wraps her arms around him tightly and he grumbles when she squeezes but he doesn't try to get away.

"there's nothing for you to worry about, katsuki. absolutely nothing." she repeats, rubbing his back. "you love each other, and that's more than enough. just be yourself, it's been working out for you this far..somehow." she jests. katsuki scoffs indignantly but they both end up chuckling about it. after a few more seconds they pull away and mitsuki pats her son's chest with a sniffle. right on top of his heart that she knows, she's seen, has gone through oh so much.

but still remained entirely yours throughout all the years and still so so so enamoured with you.

gripping onto his shoulders, she whispers "you got this." the glossiness in his eyes is impossible to miss, he's always cried very easily. but she guesses she mirrors his expression exactly. her son is the spitting image of her after all. she places a hand on his cheek and he leans into it.

"thanks, ma" he whispers sincerely. and mitsuki feels her heart soar.

"any time."

during dinner, katsuki announces the news to his father. who after getting over his shock immediately wraps his son into a hug. congratulating him and encouraging him with teary eyes, she knows where katsuki gets that from, before they all settle down to have dinner before katsuki leaves a few hours later. waving off his mother's insistence to pass you a greeting with a grumbled acknowledgement.

she shakes her head as her and her husband watch him drive off but her heart is full of pride.

"we raised a killer son didn't we ?" she giggles looking back at masaru, who agrees with a smile as they share a laugh.

and the next time you both come over, you're giddy. unable to keep your excitement in check as you keep excitedly looking back at katsuki, who finally relents with an affectionate sigh and you happily show off you're ringed finger with a squeal.

mitsuki squeals right back, wrapping you up in the tightest bear hug she could. masaru takes his turn hugging you, sweetly congratulating you both. of course, they'll tell you they both new in advance, but that was all for later.

sure, she didn't know what her son was planning in advance, but she had her hunches and her funny feeling from all those years ago that you'd be sticking around. she guesses it's good enough that she was the first to be told.

she sends her son a proud and teasing smile when they make eye contact. he rolls his eyes, but the smile on his face doesn't fade as he watches you talk with his father. she doesn't have to say a single word for him to know what she's saying.

i told you so.

taglist *if your name is pink i unfortunately couldn’t tag you :(( : @73isthebestnumber @gold24fish @m-inluv @katsuisbaby @teddiiursulas-ink @moonbabysstuff @brandydel @queenpiranhadon @chuugarettes @starieq @aishio14 @andysdrafts @hyunorue @touyasprettydoll @itsfiive @annoying-bitxh @h0nestly-though @atinytiredpanromantic @mikalame @itzjustj-1000 @deepressed @evam23 @erenstitanweave @m-0ona @chaoticgay13 @lotusstarr @koreluvsspring @giannitaa @waterstarz @nayeonsdoormat @the-crazy-star-12 @kovu-bunnbunn @kvk6433gkcigv @coolgirl458 @beekeepingageissome

[vaguely-concerned]

My two cents on how much of Mind!Varric is Rook’s mind trying to fill the blank space and how much is Solas actively talking through a convenient blood magic paper doll of the mind: I think it's a mix of both, a truly collaborative psychosocial horrorshow if you would, but waaaay more towards the second. It feels too directed and tactical at times to be anything else. Rook's mind is willing to go along with the denial phase as far as it can fucking carry them to not have to face the grief and regret and does its part in papering over details that don’t make any sense, the way brains will strive to create coherent meaning even out of deeply confusing input, but to my understanding it's a collaborateur in how that plays out, not the instigator or control center. Solas is using it as a path to agency and to gather insight into Rook as a person unguarded as he can't count on in his own guise. (That stoic option that leads to him being like 'oh I see you're cautiously denying me access to your inner life. well. at least you still have Varric to talk to. y'know as an outlet :)'. You absolute BITCH Solas! That alone convinced me that he HAS to have an active hand in it on some level.)

My guess is that it takes considerable effort on Solas’ part to make Mind!Varric do anything more involved or complicated than seeming to sit up in bed and give casual commentary, and that’s why he keeps having eerie five minute shallow pep talks with you before he announces he conveniently needs a nap aaanyway good luck kid you got this haha. When he’s just spouting NPC lines from his bedrest, I’m ready to believe that could be Rook’s mind being allowed to improv lines for him more freely because it’s less about Solas trying to get something out of them or working an angle and more ‘Still here! Still totally alive and fine and the mentor figure you know and love and trust :) don’t even worry about it! Thankfully there is no war in Ba Sing Sei, as we all know’ upkeep work lol. Rook’s mind is allowed to set the tone of Varric, the outlines, but not always the content. 

AND, on a (beautifully fucked up) character psychology level, I feel like Solas is indulging in actually getting to be the good supportive mentor figure to Rook with one hand to assuage the guilt he feels about what he's done -- and what he's going to do -- to them with the other. Same internal logic as he uses in Trespasser about the Qun. ‘Almost everyone is going to die from the course of action I’m doggedly pursuing eventually. But at least I can make their last years happier and freer and kinder than they would have been otherwise. and that kind of makes up for it right. a little bit. doesn't it. doesn't that make it better at least. I need that to make it better)'. Did I really take your beloved mentor and friend from you if you don’t know yet that I did? Some philosophers would argue not really! So it’s probably almost ok actually. Isn’t it even a little noble that I’m taking all this grief and guilt on myself and shielding you for now. With undertones that I’m not sure he would realize himself (and might be mortified by if he did) that he is so incredibly lonely, and even a dishonest and indirect emotional connection is more than nothing when you’re that desperate. In this setup he gets idk. Both the control he craves so incredibly badly in relationships and over himself, and the scraps, the fading afterimages, of intimacy and warmth and companionship, even second hand. The one thing Solas and Rook agree on deep deep down is that they really wish Varric weren't gone. They're handshake memeing this in the saddest and most creepy way possible.

I think an important element too is that Solas needs Rook and their team to *succeed* —  up to a certain point. He needs someone to hold the two other elven mean girls off until he can get out of here. Ideally, in a perfect world, even do all the hard work of killing them so he can swoop in at the end and do his thing when both sides are exhausted and out of resources to stop him, and then Bob’s your uncle! Same logic as he was using with Corypheus, and after that worked out so well, too! King of choosing to never learn from a single solitary mistake he’s ever made even though i fully believe he could have the capacity to Fen’Harel <3 The underlying idea isn’t flawed, you see, it was just unforeseen circumstances getting in the way. This time for sure it’ll all work out the way I cleverly imagined it in my head beforehand. Cue By Talos this can’t be happening etc. in the form of a statue almost crushing him like a bug. 

So he's providing guidance and forging Rook into a leader from two angles: one Rook might not trust, and one they probably will. Shaping them into what he needs slowly and carefully. He’s helping you hone your team into their most effective state, as he might have done with his own agents back in the day, setting up his chess pieces even if he has to squint through two glimpsed realities to do it haha. Pincer maneuver of an insidious stealth mentor you never asked for. Also… at one point mind Varric gives you a whole little monologue about how Solas' problem is that he’s always seen his interpersonal connections as flaws and see where it’s landed him, all alone and the worst part? it hasn’t even worked. it’s all been for nothing he’s back where he began with nothing to show for it but his mistakes. Like...that has such strong 'uh okay happy to play your therapist from two rooms away here what the fuck kind of traumadump is this' energy to me, I’m not sure Rook like. Thinks that much about Solas as a private person. So much of Solas' self-loathing and futile insights into his own flaws seem to shine through in Mind!Varric's dialogue all the time — I just can't believe that there's no guiding hand behind it as it were. 

Most of all. I feel like people underestimate the degree to which Solas is incredibly funny. As in, he has a very consistent and recognizable sense of humour. It’s one of my very favourite things about him. We must remember — it is crucial that we always keep in mind — Orlesian accent and wig Solas from May The Dread Wolf Take You (my beloved, the explanation for why I love this dude even with the. All of the everything else. No one does it quite like him). He is not at all above doing things or adding little flourishes for his own obscure amusement, in fact that seems to me to be one of his most consistent traits. The Randy Dowager Quarterly comment Varric has? The ‘Maybe this is the Dread Wolf’s revenge. Forcing us to house sit for him’ thing? To Me this is 100% Solas amusing himself in his boring Fade jail surrounded by the screaming hellscape of all his regrets. Source: it came to me as divine revelation through pure vibes trust me bro 

If nothing else I find it much more narratively interesting personally if the connection between Rook and Solas really is that defenselessly intimate and entwined (and so unbalanced!), and the sense of violation and invasion and betrayal afterwards consequently all the more nauseatingly intense. Even if you kept him at arm’s length in the open, he’s been under your skin the whole time, looking around, gathering what he needs to destroy you, wearing the face of a friend. Regretfully, probably, but choosing to do it every step of the way anyway. (Sound familiar, Inquisitor? Solas doesn’t have that many tricks when you actually look at it, he keeps returning to old tried and true ones like a dog with a bone haha.) Maybe he even genuinely meant some of it as mercy, which only makes it so much worse. It makes his sin against his own core principles of autonomy and the freedom of all beings in mind, spirit and body so much more juicily grave if it’s something he pursues actively and consistently, rather than it half-falling into his lap as a happy accident mainly orchestrated by Rook’s own subconscious. Solas, too, is at his very lowest point, the closest to giving in and becoming his own antithesis fully that he’s ever been, and it makes the choice of whether you still reach out your hand to him one last time or not all the more impactful and difficult.

[salsakiyoomi]

“so i guess this is our new home now.”

satoru says, looking around the cheap rental place in upstate new york — you may be wondering, how you both ended up in this situation.

the simple answer is : to run away from the jujutsu life.

the complicated answer would be that satoru gojo had grown tired of being the strongest.

he had love and dreams, everything that was there to pursue, and he knew that if he kept going down the same path that he would never end up somewhere he wanted to be.

so he ran away, from everything, leaving his old life and everything that he knew behind.

except for you.

to be fair, it was never his intention for you to tag along, but when it came down to it, you decided that no way you would be leaving him on his own.

and not to mention, you have also grown tired of the jujutsu world.

and that's how you both ended up in states, in a cheap rental place in a cheap town in upstate new york.

“doesn't look too bad.” you say, shrugging as you look around as well, eyes drifting to the chipping paint on the wall and the peeling leather of the old couch, “we can make it work.” 

“yeah.” he hums, going over to the couch and sitting on it, patting the spot next to him for you to sit on.

you go over, settling down next to him, “this is the life.” you exclaim, a smile on your face, one that he mirrors, “yeah.” he hums in agreement.

comfortable silence settles over the both of you as you move even closer to him, snuggling up to his body and bathing in his warmth.

satoru stiffens, he's felt your body against his many times before but with his arising feelings and fat crush on you, it's not the same anymore.

it's been there for so long, it's unbelievable and honestly infuriating, he wants to get rid of it but no, you're just too oblivious to notice his very obvious hints.

( he got you your favourite drink the other day and thought, yep, that must be it, but no, you just sipped on it peacefully, didn't even offer him some. )

“hey uh…could you shoot over a bit?” he mumbles, a bit shy, and you stare at him, confused, and that's when you notice the loud thumping of his heart.

that's unusual, you think. the mighty satoru gojo is nervous? and of what? you laying against him?

“satoru?” you call his name softly, “are you okay?”

“yeah?” he huffs, and then jolts when you lay your hand against his chest where his heart is, a teasing smile on your face, “your heart tells another story.” you say.

he looks away from you — fuck, was he that obvious? wasn't that what he wanted though? for you to notice his feelings towards you?

and that's when he decides, fuck it, he'll just spit it out.

“i tried to ignore it, you know.” he mumbles and you raise a confused brow, “ignore what?”

“my heart whenever you're around me.” he says, “the way you always make me feel, like i'm just more than the strongest, like i'm truly loved — i tried, you know, to look at you as a friend.”

“but it's damn hard, when you're always so sweet to me, too nice and too giving, like you'd move mountains for me — and truth be told, i'd move mountains for you too — and god, whenever you smiled or laughed all i could focus on were your lips, how perfect they looked and i always wondered if my lips would fit against them, and how good you'd taste — would you taste of coffee or of the cherry lip balm that you always have on? i know you'd taste nice either way.”

he takes a deep breath, “and i know friends shouldn't think about kissing one another but god, you're so insatiable, i can't help it, i really can't.” he looks at you, and takes in the deep blush on your face and the way your lips are hung open, “all i can think about is wanting to kiss you, wanting you to be mine, wanting us to be a think.”

he takes your hands in his, “so god help me, i'll pursue you until you give in, until you feel the same for me, until you let me kiss you.”

a moment of silence falls over and satoru thinks that he’d screwed up, but then you mumble, “there is no need for that.”

“what?” he utters out, dumbfounded.

finally, you look up at him, “kiss me, satoru.”

and that's all it takes for him to place his lips against yours and savour your taste, his hands all over your body as he sinks into the moment.

and he let's the cherry lip balm that you always wear smudge on his lips, because it tastes like you.

[azrielbrainrot]

The Sweetest Dream

Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader

Warnings: pure fluff, not proofread

Word Count: 0,9K

Notes: Writing little drabbles to help with writer's block. This is prompt #15 on this list.

Everyone in the house is asleep as you sit by the fireplace, sipping your tea, lost in visions of hazel eyes and gentle smiles, the same ones that wouldn't let sleep find you tonight.

“Can't sleep either?”

The sound makes you jump on the sofa, too distracted to realize someone had walked into the sitting room. Your heart calms as soon as you turn to find Azriel standing close to the doorway, cringing softly when you notice the guilty look in his eyes. You shouldn't have expected anything else from the Spymaster, walking around silently out of habit.

“I didn't mean to scare you,” he murmurs, hiding his hands behind his back and bringing his wings close to his body. Trying to make himself look smaller perhaps? As if that was possible.

“You didn't, Az,” you rush to assure him, “I just didn't expect anyone else to still be awake at this hour.”

Azriel hums and walks closer to you, the faint light coming from the fireplace making him look even more ethereal than usual as it hits his carved body so beautifully. Warmth spreads to your cheeks as his shadows give way and you notice he was only wearing loose pajama pants, it seems he really had been trying to sleep before coming downstairs. The thought makes you tug at the hem of your nightgown, remembering you were in the same position as him.

“You didn't answer me,” he speaks up again as he takes a seat next to you on the sofa.

“Right,” you clear your throat, pushing away any impertinent thoughts. “I can't seem to fall asleep, no.”

“Did something happen?”

His concern for you is exceedingly sweet, truly heartwarming, and even though it's something any of your friends would show, you can't help the murmur in your chest as it comes from him. The fact that his hushed voice sounds like warm honey in the quiet room not helping your situation at all.

You shake your head, turning your body to face him, leg propped on the sofa as the empty teacup in your hands disappears at the house's command. He looked impossibly handsome with his dark messy hair and his half-lidded eyes trained on you.

“Just have too much on my mind, that's all.”

“Alright,” he whispers, blinking slowly down at you, “but you know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

“Of course, Az. I promise it's nothing bad.” He nods, eyes never straying from yours as silence falls between you once again. “Why can't you sleep?”

“I guess I'm just not tired,” he shrugs.

You know better than to pry, but you also know of the nightmares that often plague his dreams, and of the insomnia that won't allow him to get a good rest. Your fingers twitch, wanting to reach out to hold his hand, settling on biting your lip instead, your eyes darting back to the fireplace.

Ever since realizing your feelings for Azriel weren't exactly platonic anymore, you didn't really know how to act around him, entirely too aware of every movement and word, and what they could mean. It also didn't help that he seemed different with you as well, it made your heart get too many ideas.

“The sun is almost rising in the sky. We should probably give up on getting enough sleep,” he says, getting up from the sofa and coming to stand in front of you, holding out a hand towards you, one you don't hesitate in taking, letting him pull you up to your feet. “I know a good place to see the sunrise. Why don't I take us there instead?”

A smile spreads across your face as you accept his invitation with a nod, a smile of his own mirroring yours. Cauldron, how could you not fall in love with him? It seems more impossible to you that no one else was madly in love with the shadowsinger.

His hands fall on your waist unexpectedly, your eyes widening in surprise. “I'll fly us there,” he explains quickly, easily lifting you up into his arms, making you wrap yours around his neck. You've flown with him countless times, but now you could feel his body moving towards the window far too well, considering the lack of clothes between you.

“Azriel,” you call out his name just as he reaches the window, the way his eyes fall on your face taking your breath away for a moment. “Maybe we should get our robes or something before leaving.”

“No one will see us,” he assures, his shadows climbing up your bodies as if confirming their singer's words. “Is that okay?”

“Yes.”

“If you don't feel comfortable with me-”

“I do, Azriel,” you murmur, tightening your hold on him, “Of course I do.”

“Alright,” he whispers, pulling you closer to him as the smile returns to his lips.

“Alright.”

Your lips were only a breath away from each other, and it seems he also realized this as his hazel eyes travel down to watch your mouth, the desire that briefly flashes through his eyes taking your breath away before he recovers, opening the window and letting the chilly early morning air kiss your exposed skin instead.

“We should hurry,” he says with a smile, watching the way you blink up at him. “We don't want to miss the sunrise.”

It seems your silly crush isn't as silly or one sided as you thought.

[alchemistc]

Tommy doesn't quite startle, when Evan reaches out for his hand, halfway down the block on their way to the little park tucked in behind a row of boutiques, but it takes him a moment to accept the touch, Evan's pinky sliding over the back of Tommy's hand as their shoulders bump together, the both of them a little too giddy to blame the coffee alone.

Evan makes an aborted movement like he's second guessing the attempt, and Tommy twitches his hand back just enough to snag his fingers.

At his side, Evan ducks his head, cheeks pinking, lips rubbing together, smile going wide and bright.

He feels overheated in his hoodie, but now their fingers are interlocking, and Evan is shifting his weight to adjust the angle of their arms, and Tommy can just deal with the warmth, actually.

His sister's wedding. They're both insane, Tommy decides, right then and there, and if this continues - if this continues, Tommy's just going to take his cues from Evan.

(I am all in, Tommy thinks, in Scott Patterson's voice, and then drops that thought like a hot fucking potato. He tables it, at least. For later.)

"I - uh - I told Eddie, about - well I told him." Evan grimaces, but he holds up their intertwined hands for a moment, a clear gesture about what, exactly, he'd told Eddie. Tommy wonders exactly how much he'd said. He wants to climb in behind his eyeballs and pick at his brain, which is so beyond the pale of weird and intense. Evan still thinks he's cool, somehow. That won't last. "I hope that was okay? I know you said you're out, but I guess he didn't know, so -."

Tommy squeezes the hand tucked into his. "That's fine, really. He'd have figured it out on his own, eventually. It's not like I hide it."

(Anymore.)

It's - that's a huge fucking leap from "I'm an ally" actually, less than a week out from shifting his eyes around the room and spouting nervous nonsense about picking up chicks. His sister, his best friend - Christ, he's really going for the speed run on accepting his sexuality.

The wedding, Tommy had discovered, down to the dregs of a truly middling cup of coffee he kept sipping at to try to hide his own nerves, was another three weeks away, but a month of lead time between his first kiss with a man and introducing that man to all of his family and friends as a date - yeah. Tommy wouldn't trust it for a minute if he hadn't spent weeks picking Christopher's brain for hints as to exactly what was up with Evan Buckley, if he hadn't already heard from Eddie exactly how quickly they'd jumped into their friendship.

Tommy's whirlwind thoughts stutter to a halt. "Wait. Did you know?"

Evan blushes, again, ripening the apples of his cheeks. "It's - okay so I didn't know, know, obviously, but - I mean - you were flirting pretty hard."

Tommy laughs. "Evan."

"You were!" He sounds a little incensed, like he's actually offended Tommy thinks he can't clock a flirt, and Tommy can't quite resist the urge to squeeze at his hand, again. "You aren't exactly the first guy who's ever flirted with me, Mr. Kinard." He says it prim and proper, chin raised, lips pursing after the pause, and Tommy is - shit, he's smitten. He also has no fucking clue how Evan never pieced together how hard he was flirting back. God, even Mr. Kinard has his stomach fluttering, a little.

"Just the first one who's ever reached out and slapped you in the face with it."

Evan's grin goes blindingly bright, eyes still a little squinted under the sunlight making the shots of red in his hair a little more obvious. "It was a very gentle slap. You could - you could slap a little harder, next time."

Jesus.

He's not even a hundred percent sure what the implication is there, but he can at least roll with the tamer one. He tugs, a bit, on their intertwined hands, just hard enough to knock their shoulders together again. He's a solid weight against Tommy's side, the bulk of him a little mind numbingly hot, in his bright white shirt and the dark wash jeans Tommy'd taken his time checking out when Evan went to toss their coffee cups. "You still owe me a beer, Buckley," he tells him, and Evan tilts his head up to check the angle of the sun, doesn't even bother to point out that Tommy'd barely let the check sit on the table long enough for Evan to pull out his wallet.

"I mean, it's a little early."

"Raincheck, again?"

Neither one of them has anywhere to be for the rest of the day. They'd both made that clear, when the coffee started to get low but the conversation didn't wind down, and Tommy - Christ, Tommy is more than willing to let himself get swept up in this, for the next few hours, for the day maybe, even. The weather is comfortable, and the company is adorable, and in response to Tommy releasing him from the pressure of being out too soon he'd sped off to his sister and his best friend for - for answers, most likely, for advice on how to turn things around. My sister says... he'd started, before Tommy'd had enough of wondering.

"Let's see where the day takes us," Evan says, another squeeze to Tommy's hand, and Tommy takes the weight when Evan checks his shoulder back.

-----

The day takes them twelve blocks up the road, Tommy pressed to his own kitchen counter, lips swollen and flushed when he finally parts for breath, Evan Buckley's dick pressed against his thigh as he whines at the loss. Tommy's hands are bunched up under the fabric of Evan's shirt, the wide expanse of skin beneath them sun-warm and smooth, and when Evan blinks back at him and digs his nose into Tommy's cheek, Tommy has the wild thought that he could do this forever - just this, rocking together in the shifting late afternoon light coming in from the gauzy white curtains over his kitchen sink.

They'd made the journey here under the pretense of grabbing a few waters, maybe making some late lunch, figuring it out from there, but when Tommy had bent over the low shelf in his fridge Evan had cut the distance between them, caged Tommy in and made good on his threat to show Tommy he could slap back, if he wanted.

They've been lazily making out for - long enough that the water bottles he'd scrambled to set aside are now sweating condensation. He'd lost his concept of time somewhere around the point Evan had grabbed for the back of his thigh and rocked against it for the first time.

"We should figure out something for dinner," Tommy announces, lips still close enough to Evan's still parted ones that he's speaking mostly into his mouth.

"Uh-huh."

"Evan," he intones, just a hint of admonishment, and Evan blinks, and gathers himself. He's - he's still got his thigh wedged between Tommy's, can clearly feel exactly how much they'd both gotten themselves worked up. Tommy's a little obsessed with exactly how unperturbed by this Evan is. Thirty some years without realizing he was attracted to men and now he's spent a good few minutes actually nipping at the cleft of Tommy's chin, purposely shifting his face against Tommy's stubble-roughened cheeks while he sucked at Tommy's earlobe.

"Somewhere with beer," Evan provides, decisive, and Tommy can feel exactly how wide his smile goes.

"I'm actually in the mood for wine, tonight," Tommy shoots back, and the moment shifts, mood slowing as Evan pulls back - just a little, just enough for each of them to take stock of exactly how disheveled they both are.

Evan's mouth is pink pink pink, his own stubble not quite enough to hide the beard-burn that had spread down his neck when Tommy found himself momentarily fascinated by the dip of his collarbone, the rush of his pulse when Tommy mouthed at the tendon of his neck. Besides the awkward bunching at the back, his shirt is all out of whack, one side of his collar flipped up, the neck shifted to one side, and Tommy vaguely remembers sliding his hand in there, at one point, swallowing the heavy groan that had elicited. His cheeks are ruddy, eyes bright and still a little wild. Tommy can't be any better.

"There - there is actually a little wine bar around here I've been meaning to try," Evan says, clearly trying to refocus, shifting his weight around in a familiar way that Tommy finds achingly endearing.

Tommy thumbs at Evan's bottom lip just to watch the way he has to fight not to be drawn back in.

"Let me change," Tommy says, hands shifting to Evan's hips to press him back, and away.

"You - you're fine. Like this."

Tommy's smile is soft, and he reaches out to smooth down Evan's collar. Evan's eyes seem to be stuck on the flash of skin behind the open button of his Henley, the knowledge of which he is absolutely going to use to his advantage.

"This isn't exactly date attire," Tommy impresses upon him, and Evan's brow goes adorably crinkly.

"Tommy, we've been on a date the entire day."

Tommy's mouth does something uncontrollable, the smile breaking containment on one side, then the other, and the hand still tucked next to Evan's collar shifts across his chest. Beneath his ribcage, Tommy's heart does something he absolutely refuses to acknowledge until he's had a moment alone to his thoughts.

"I didn't wear this to impress you," he admits, although he gets the feeling Evan absolutely had dressed to impress. "Sorta thought I was getting a very polite let down, this morning."

"So, this is, what, your sulking attire?"

"Certain I was gonna sulk, hmm?"

"I mean, I'd have been a little insulted if you didn't at least mope, a bit. Maybe a little wallowing."

"You caught me. This is my brooding sweatshirt."

It's absolutely stupid, how much it makes his heart race to see the grin blooming across his face. Tommy needs a moment.

He brushes at Evan's shoulder as he passes him, fighting the urge to press his lips to his cheek.

"I'll be right back. Bathroom's down the hall on the left, if you need it."

In his room, with the door shut behind him, Tommy takes a long, long moment to stare at his bed, silently trying to convince himself not to throw his whole body dramatically across it like some regency era heroine. The bathroom is right next to his room, and Tommy can hear Evan drifting down the hall towards it, at a pace that suggests he's taking the time to take in the artwork and picture frames hung on the walls. It makes something ache, in his chest, in his throat, and Tommy shakes his head on the way to his closet, getting tangled in his sweatshirt when he tries to tug both it and the Henley up over his head at the same time.

He's forgotten how clothes work. Maybe. Probably.

In his walk in, once he's figured out how to get everything off without blinding himself or taking out a light, he takes a moment to stare at himself in the mirror hung by the door. His hair is a fucking disaster. His face is - embarrassingly smiley, Jesus Christ.

There's a mouth shaped bruise forming at the bolt of his jaw, and Tommy should absolutely be embarrassed about that - he's a forty year old man who just spent a good hour necking in his kitchen.

Fingers trace the edges of it and he can't muster up anything less mortifying than smugness.

He manages to get his hair in some semblance of order - doesn't bother with product, for absolutely no reason at all (certainly not to tempt Evan into running his fingers through it some more) - and finds a collared shirt in a light, hazy blue that he knows brings out the slashes of green in his eyes.

He leaves the top three buttons undone and calls it good.

Evan's back in the kitchen by the time he makes it out of his room, snooping in Tommy's fridge, and he doesn't even have the grace to look apologetic about it when Tommy taps his fingers against the doorframe.

The fridge closes on its own, Evan's mouth dropped to an intriguing O shape.

"Uh - oh," Evan says, mouth actually snapping shut as he takes Tommy in, eyes dipping up, down, catching on the skin below his collarbone. He swallows. Fuck. "This - uh. Okay. Color me impressed."

"Yeah?"

"You know you look good," Evan whines.

He's done something to fix his own, hair, too. Tommy leans in the doorway, arms crossed, one foot tucked over the other, and actually takes the time to stare back. Tommy's hands had worn through the product - there's a little bit of a curl, in his hair, that Tommy would give a lot of his earthly possessions to see in its natural state. There's still some color in his cheeks, and it's spreading as Tommy checks him out. He's fixed the neck of his shirt, and against the stark white of it, his tattoos are drawing Tommy's eye. He wonders how many other ones he might uncover, one day. "You too," Tommy finally says, when Evan looks like he might vibrate right out of his skin at the attention. Evan beams, and spins the keys in his hand around on one finger.

"You ready?"

Absolutely fucking not, Tommy thinks to himself, but he nods, and lets Evan lead the way back out his front door.

[froggiewrites]

Bloody Hands

Pairing: Law x Reader

NSFW

Summary: You're struggling with horrible period cramps, and luckily, Law has the perfect solution. Warnings: Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Period Sex, Fluff Word Count: 2.1k Notes: Did I write this in one sitting instead of just taking ibuprofen for my cramps like a normal person? Maybe. Anyway, this is my first time writing for Law, so I hope I did him justice!

This is going to kill you.

You say that every month, of course, but you really, truly mean it this time. You’re practically immobilized, laying in the fetal position on your bed trying not to let out pitiful moans every time another wave of pain hits. You fail every time.

Several members of the crew had come to check on you, bringing offerings of heating pads, ibuprofen, and various other remedies, but they hardly helped. After the fifth visit (Penguin bringing you more water while anxiously checking you over), you couldn’t even thank your friends, only letting out a sad whimper to acknowledge their presence before once again squeezing your eyes tight and trying desperately to ground yourself.

Your captain had been noticeably absent from these visits, probably burying himself in work as he always does, and you’re torn between being grateful he hasn’t seen you in such a sorry state and hurt tearing through your chest that he didn’t care enough to check on you. You would have gone to him in a heartbeat if he was doing as poorly as you were. He wouldn’t want you to, of course, would lock his door and burrow so deeply into his bed he wouldn’t see a single speck of light until his illness had passed, but you would come anyway. You would at least try.

You regret the thought the moment you hear a familiar hum at the doorway. You should have known he would never leave you alone when you needed him. “I almost didn’t believe everyone when they said how bad it was.” You whine, and you hear a sympathetic chuckle. “I know.” The heels of his shoes click softly against the ground, and suddenly Law’s warm hand has slid under your shirt, warm and gentle as it rubs circles onto your upper back.

“Everything hurts.” You’re so lost in the pain you can't even bring yourself to hate how pathetic you sound. His other hand comes to rest on your cheek, and you nuzzle into it, welcoming the affection gratefully.

“I know, sweetheart.” He doesn’t often call you pet names, and it makes your heart flutter when he does. Usually when you hear them it means you’re going to be taken care of, cherished in a more tender way than the quiet and understated (but no less wonderful) way he normally shows his love for you. His lips ghost over your forehead, and you finally open your eyes to see his own staring at you with undisguised concern, bags under his eyes more pronounced than usual. “Can you describe it to me? Is it just the cramps, or is there something else?”

“It’s just cramps. And a small headache, I guess.” Another wave crashes over you, and you pull yourself in even tighter. “They’re…they’re not normally this bad.”

“And the pain meds haven’t helped?”

“Not enough.”

“Hm.” You can see the exact moment he flips from lover to doctor, racking his brain for any knowledge he can use to help you, and the moment he finds his answer. The light flickers on behind his eyes, and he carefully looks over you, assessing the situation, before your lover is back, sly grin slowly creeping over his face and a quiet excitement makes its way into his voice. “I think I know something that could help. If you’re willing.”

“I would do anything for this to stop,” you whimper, and his amusement once again fades into fondness as his eyes soften with pity.

“I’ll do my best to help, sweetheart, I promise.” His lips brush against your forehead again before the bed shifts and his warmth has left you. You cry out, but he gently shushes you. “Just a minute. I’ll be right back, really.”

He probably is only gone for a minute, but it feels like hours. You don’t relax for even a second until you hear a quiet, “Shambles!” and find yourself in the familiar dim light of Law’s room. Your back is pressed against something rougher than his usual blankets, and you turn your head to see you’re laid out against a mismatched array of towels, clearly stolen from the shared bathroom the rest of the crew uses. His pair of towels are separated, one lying directly under your lower half while the other sits folded and ready at the end of the bed. Law is staring at you, unblinking, directly next to it.

“Hi.” Your voice is weaker than you want it to be, barely a whisper, but he slightly smiles when he hears it anyway.

“Hi.” He leans forward a bit, eyes flashing dangerously in the dim light, looking almost like a predator stalking his prey. It makes you tense despite yourself, causing another flash of pain in your abdomen. The vulnerable noise you make causes him to grin, showing just a bit of sharp canines through his parted lips. “Are you ready?”

“For what?”

“Your treatment, sweetheart.” He maintains eye contact with you as he slowly pulls latex gloves over his tattooed hands, covering the letters on his fingers. Once they’re fully on, he lets the material go, making a small thwap as it snaps against his skin. He repeats himself. “Are you ready?”

“Yes?”

“I need you to be sure.”

“Yes.” You repeat, more firmly this time.

“Excellent. I promise you’ll feel better soon.” With that, you can feel the cool latex against your skin as he slips off the loose pajama pants you were wearing in a single fluid motion. You then feel his hands against your thighs, forcing them apart and leaning forward. You let out a soft noise of surprise, and he gives you the same predatory smile as before before muttering, “Just relax.”

His gloved fingers slowly trace up your thighs, before he quickly removes your panties, depositing them somewhere nearby. He turns his attention back to you, fingers retracing their path, and you shiver as he runs a single finger down your slit. He lifts his hand closer to his face as though to inspect it, and you can see the blue latex becomes stained with blood. You can see his pupils dilate, black overtaking the normal steely grey of his eyes. You can’t tell if he’s fascinated or aroused. Probably both.

He allows his hand to find its rightful place again, slowly inserting his first finger into you. You gasp quietly, and he laughs under his breath. You feel yourself stretch around him as the slick of your blood makes it easy for him to slide himself knuckle deep into you. You let out a stuttering breath as you get used to the new sensation. Your pain hasn’t subsided, but this is certainly a good distraction.

“Everything alright?” His voice is low, thick with want, but he tries to maintain an even tone.

“Yeah,” you managed to squeak out. “I’m fine.”

“Only fine?” He lets out a displeased hum. “Next time I ask, I want you to be doing better than ‘fine’.”

“That’s up to you, isn’t it?” You regret the words the moment they come out of your mouth. As much as Law loves to pretend he is some even-keeled professional, he’s easily riled up by a challenge, and challenges relating to you are some of his favorites. “I mean–”

“I know what you meant. Don’t worry. I’ll make it happen.” With that, he begins pumping, keeping a steady slow pace that isn’t nearly enough for you, before suddenly adding a second finger. He curls them, hitting a sweet spot that makes you sing for him, and he gives you an absolutely shit eating grin. “Sounds like we’re already well on our way, hm?”

He speeds up slightly, his other hand leaving the plush of your thigh and finding your clit. The material feels strange against you, but that thought is quickly shoved out of your head as he slowly begins to rub small circles against it. You let out a whine of, “Law!”

“Yes?” His voice is dripping with smugness. You can do nothing but let out another small cry of his name, and you can see the way his chest slightly puffs out with pride at the sound. There is nothing in the world he loves more than making you come unraveled, and he loves any reminder of that, especially those that remind him that you’re his and that he is the one making you feel this way. “Just relax, sweetheart. I’ve got you. We’ll be there soon.” He adds a third finger, reveling in the way you clench around him. You see his eyelids drop slightly as he takes in the sight of you splayed out before him, blood and wetness covering his fingers as they pump in and out of you.

You finally, finally begin to feel something stronger than your pain as the coil in your stomach tightens, making every part of you begin to tense as you approach your precipice. Law leans over you, taking his eyes off of your cunt for the first time since he started  just so he can look you in the eyes and whisper, “Let go. I’ve got you.”

You gush around his fingers, crying out. He doesn’t look away from your face as your eyes squeeze shut and you throw your head back, taking in every inch of your sweet expression. He works you through it, not removing his fingers until he knows for certain that you’ve ridden your high to the end, leaving you spent and relaxed against the towel below you. Once he slides his hands out of you, he quickly removes his gloves, dropping them into a nearby trash can. He grabs the towel at the end of the bed and uses it to wipe up any blood on your thighs, placing a gentle kiss to each thigh once he’s sure they’re clean.

“How are you doing?” His voice carries no challenge like earlier, only a genuine concern for you.

“I’m great.”

“No cramps?”

You close your eyes, taking in your current state. You feel a little sore, and there’s still a small pressure in your skull, but you realize your abdomen doesn’t hurt at all. “No cramps.” You can’t keep the pleased smile off of your face, and when you open your eyes you see his expression mirrors your own, if a touch more smug.

“Good.” He kisses your forehead before gently gathering you into his arms. You let out a soft noise of protest, but he pulls you into his chest anyway. “After a quick shower and some sleep I think your treatment will be over. …For now.”

“For now?”

“You’ll have to come see me if your cramps return, of course.” His eyes shine with a gentle mischief you don’t often get to see.

“Oh, of course, Dr. Trafalgar.” You expect him to roll his eyes at you, but he smirks further at you using his title. Interesting.

For now, he carries you into his personal bathroom, setting you down and beginning to fuss with the shower. Your eyes spy the empty towel rack, and you have a realization. “Law?”

“Yes?”

“Do you have any towels not covered in blood?”

“I–hm.” He leaves for a moment, returning with another clearly stolen towel. The crew is going to have a bad night once showertime rolls around, but you can’t bring yourself to care too much, still caught up in your sudden relaxation after your day of suffering. In the shower, Law pampers you thoroughly, refusing to let you lift a finger to do anything for yourself. His fingers are gentle as he washes your hair, your face, your body. He wraps you tenderly in a towel once all is done, even helping you dress once you’ve dried. He only stops pampering you once he’s tucked you tightly into his bed, heating pad and pain meds ready on his nightstand just in case. And in a very rare treat, instead of rushing off to work, he lays down next to you.

“You aren’t going to leave?” You can’t keep the tentative hope from your voice.

“Not until you’re asleep.” He pulls your head into his chest, and you happily make a home there.

“I’ll have to stay up to keep you here.” Even as you say it your eyes are drooping, and you can feel the rumble of his laugh.

“You can try.” He runs his fingers carefully through your hair.

You lose quickly, falling into an easy sleep, surrounded by warmth and care, and pain far away from your mind.

Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece

[mncxbe]

WAKING UP NEXT TO...

Denji. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

is feeling the warm rays of sunshine seeping through the half closed blinds of his bedroom window. Denji's laying on his back, his features melted into a mask of pure content as he snores lightly. the traffic outside doesn't seem to bother him, nor does the light falling right on his face.

still, his fingers sometimes twitch as he holds your hand, a sign he's about to wake up soon. he looks so soft and pretty, completely relaxed among warm sheets and your hastly discarded clothes from last night. slowly rolling to your side as not to wake him, you place your hand on his bare chest.

the cord feels warm against your palm and you twirl it around your fingers as you did so many morning before, waiting for him to wake up. relishing his warmth and closeness.

but nothing compares to the moment when he slowly opens his eyes. his gaze falls on you and you're met with the biggest smile in the world. there's a flash of surprise in his golden-brown eyes before his gaze softens again; it's like he realizes you're actually his every morning he wakes up.

"hey, you" he mumbles sleepily, gently rubbing your shoulder and you smile, propping yourself up on your elbow as you peer down at him. "hey. how'd you sleep"

Denji groans, though it sounds more like a whine and shakes his head "'m never staying up so late" you giggle at his words, unconsciously leaning closer to him. the tips of your hair tickle the sensitive skin of his collarbones and he smiles warmly "guess it's my fault for keeping you up so late"

he hums, nodding in agreement as he closes his eyes but you gently shake him awake, your lips pursing into a pout "we gotta go to work soon, baby" Denji lets out another groan, attempting to steal the blanket and turn to the other side but you manage to hook a finger around the cord in his chest. your boyfriend's eyes shoot open when you give the cord a gentle tug and he yelps, slapping your hand away.

"god, woman, you crazy? stop playing around with that you could get hurt."

despite his words, there's no real threat in his voice, but his grip on your wrist doesn't falter. you giggle, pushing yourself up onto his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck. only when your lips meet his does Denji let go of your arm, his hand moving into your tousled hair as he deepens the kiss.

when you pull away you can tell he's wide awake. ruffling his hair, you slowly slide out of bed "come on, get dressed up. i'll make us something to eat" his features visibly relax when you mention the food and he sighs contently. "sounds good, pretty. i'll make the coffee"

Yoshida 𖦹⋆｡˚⋆ฺ

is waking up with his strong arm draped over your ribcage, his hot breath fanning over the back of your neck. it's comforting, safe and you allow yourself to indulge in his warm embrace for a moment before taking your phone from the nightstand to check the time. he's a light sleeper, so he stirs when you move, groaning lightly as he sees you answering some texts.

"what did i say about staying on your phone first thing in the morning?" he mumbles sleepily, languidly reaching for your phone. his fingertips trace down your arm, making goosebumps raise on your skin before he takes the device from your hands and throws it on the other side of the bed.

your pouts and whines fall on deaf ears as he wraps an arm around your waist, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. "Hiro, I was answering an important message"

"your friend and her boy talk can wait" he mumbles, placing slow kisses along the nape of your neck "however, i can't. the sun's not even up, i want my girl to stay with me"

you'd complain, but his deep morning voice has you under a spell. you turn to face him, taking in the view of his pretty face; he truly looks handsome in the soft blue light before sunrise. a hum rumbles in his throat when you toy with his piercings, a lazy smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "what?" he asks, giving your hip a light squeeze and he can see you shaking your head through half lidded eyes.

"you look handsome when you're sleepy" you blurt out, causing him to chuckle lightly. "nah, you're the beautiful one, pretty girl."

he plays with your hair, letting the silky strands slip between his digits before tucking them behind your ear and closing his eyes. fair enough, you still had at least forty minutes of cuddles and sleep. pulling the duvet over your shoulder, you nuzzle yourself against his chest. Yoshida's scent soothes your soul and you swear you can make out an undertone of your perfume on his skin. you were pretty sure you smelled like him too after spending the whole night in his arms.

[iktomi-toni]

Lighter x reader headcannons + drabble

Ugh I can't get this man out of my head after doing his quest !!!!!

No TW just lots of flirting and mutual pining, gender neutral reader but lightly implied to be fem leaning and shorter than Lighter. I wrote this at 2am, this was wayyy longer than I intended it to be but that's just what Lighter does to me I guess. I did my best to proofread but was tired so please excuse any spelling/ grammar errors.

• Lighter is SUUUCH a flirt. If you're not dating he's definitely flirting with you, winking at you from behind his sunglasses, smirking at you from a distance, anything to see that cute little smile and blush on your pretty little face.

• if you're dating the flirting doesn't stop, like ever. He heard the phrase 'never stop dating your partner' and seriously took it to heart.

• if your relationship isn't quite couple status but you're comfortable with each other his flirting is a little more relaxed. The occasional arm over the shoulder, flexing his muscles through his jacket to show off for you, offering to help anytime you're in need.

• also he is SUCH a cheesy romantic, he definitely watching romance movies for fun and occasionally uses some of the moves from movies on you when the opportunity arises. Bring you a small bouquet of roses, boxes of chocolates, hand written notes, letting you wear his jacket when it gets old. He'd totally court you old fashioned style.

One day you're in Blazewood double checking the contents of your bag as you prepare for a trip to the city when you accidentally bump into Lighter, walking face first into his tight leather jacket you prepare to profusely apologize and ask for forgiveness when you look up and realize who it was. You blush slightly when he looks down at you, "You okay there? Seem a little preoccupied." With his signature smirk and a subtle flex of his muscles he turned to face you.

"Oh! Yeah.. yeah I'm okay! Just was making sure I have everything I need before I head out." You smiled at him, a gentle rosie hue spreading across your cheeks as you looked at him. "Where you heading? I can give you a ride if you'd like." He wrapped his arm around your shoulder as you walked together and talked. "I was just going to head into the city to run some errands, maybe grab some souvenirs for everyone while I'm there since us from Blazewood don't tend to leave very often."

The way he held you close felt so warm and safe, the way he towered over you in a protective manner all while maintaining that same flirtatious, comfortable energy when he spoke only served to make the red tint across your face all the brighter and your heart beat even faster. You weren't entirely sure if he truly felt romantic feelings for you or if he was naturally casually a romantic but it's no like you were complaining, he was obviously very handsome and also extremely kind and loyal so there was no real harm in this little charade.

He ruffled your hair gently and grinned at you with that shiny, award winning smile, "I like that idea, how about I take you there, you can show me 'round the city while we're out, hm?" Smiling and nodding in response, you fixed your hair with a gentle huff, making sure your bag was secured over your shoulder as you both walked towards his bike. "Sure! I'd really appreciate that, thank you!" He passed you a helmet as he straddled his bike waiting for you to get on behind him. Secretly he only offered to give you a ride just so he could feel your arms wrapped around him, though he'd never admit it to your face.

After a peaceful ride from The Outer Ring you guys had finally made it to New Eridu, letting go of Lighter's waist you took off his helmet with a deep breath and flattened out your hair as you hopped off the back of the bike.

Lighter can't deny that he felt a twinge of disappointment when he felt your arms leave his body, he loved the feeling of warmth that came when your body pressed up against his back and now he felt cold when that warmth had left him but he was good at hiding it, all things considered.

"So, where we heading first?" He pushed up his sunglasses and with a flick of his head he simultaneously brushed his hair back a bit, looking at you expectantly. "Well first I figured we could grab a coffee then heading to 141 Convenience and JC Pharmacy. Oh and i also wanted to pick up a new movie from the video store on sixth street!"

You two walked and talked as you sipped your coffees and shopped, picking up a few souvenirs and movie before stopping to say hi to Belle and Wise and Random Play, as you two had left the video store you turned to Lighter, "Hey why don't we get some noodles at General Chop's place! Wise says they're the best noodles around!"

After a very tasty very filling meal at General Chop's it was starting to dark so it was getting to be time to head back to Blazewood so you both headed back to lumina Square where Lighter's bike was located and began to head home. The journey back home was even more beautiful and peaceful than the ride there. With the sun setting on the horizon you could see the desert cliffs and the many hollows in the distance as you guys Lighter from behind for stability on the bike, this was a moment you knew you would always cherish. Soon you ride into Blazewood and pulled up to your residence, with a small melancholy sigh you unwrapped yourself from Lighter and stood up, removing his helmet and handing it back to him you smiled and thanked him for the ride and the company on your trip, he turned off his bike and put it in park, placing his helmet on the seat he stood up and smiled at you before taking a deep breath. "I'm always happy to help you out with whatever you need, maybe we can take another trip together sometime, only maybe we could call it a date instead?" He was grateful it had gotten dark so you couldn't see the growing blush on his face, he's not sure where he got the nerve to ask you or but spending so much time with you today made him realize exactly how much he enjoyed your company and he didn't want the day to end. "I'd love that, Lighter. " looking at the smile on your face and the way you looked at him he almost couldn't help it when he leaned down and kissed you. He was gentle about it, cupping your cheek with his right hand and holding your hip softly with his left, you dropped your bags and wrapped you arms around his neck leaning into the kiss. It was soft and careful, as if he was worried he'd do something wrong or hurt you it he got too excited.

Pulling away breathlessly and still holding onto you he smiled, feeling content and very satisfied with his today's city trip has turned out

[train-wrecc]

Waiting. Lee Eun-Hyeok.

(This picture was all I could find y'all 😭 +from Safari)

word count: 1.8k

warnings: The use of "Oppa" (I know some people don't like it or think it's cringey so here's your warning.) Unrequited love? Mentions of blood.

summary: Lee Eun-Hyeok's return.

pairing: Lee Eun-Hyeok x Fem!Reader

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It had felt like an eternity since you had been able to meet his dark brown eyes with those of your own. They looked exactly the same, dark brown, yet they weren't your Lee Eun-hyeok's. They were the brown eyes of a stranger.

He stood in front of you appearing as the same man you had been waiting for, longing for, surviving for. His shoulders no longer held the weight of the world on them, which that you were grateful for. To those who didn't know him, his eyes had always lacked a warmth to them; but to you there had once been a small tinge of lightness in them. Now, they truly held nothing but indifference.

As you took in every inch of him, desperate to familiarize yourself with the sight of him once again, he stood looking at you. He wasn't analyzing your every move like he used to, he was simply looking at you. Nothing more and nothing less.

Your arms itched to wrap themselves around him but you refrained from doing so. The air felt tense, not much could be heard aside from your slight uneven breaths. He turned to walk away, "Are you really leaving me again?" His steps slowed to a stop. From his reaction alone you first thought he didn't recognize you.

His back stayed facing you, "Lee Eun-Hyeok, you've been alive all this time, and not once did you try to look for me?" He couldn't even turn to face you. "Why would I?" You could feel the tears begging to spill from your eyes, but you blinked them away. "Because you love me. You love me like I love you." You reached for his hand but stopped midway fearing that he would pull away.

Just how you feared he'd pull away from your touch you feared his response to your words. "Because I waited for you and I lived for you, I almost died searching for just a glimpse of you..." You quietly let out, desperately trying to keep your voice steady. "I never asked you to do any of that." He finally turned toward you. His face was void of emotion, "Do you know the way to the stadium?" His eyes once again met yours, and you looked away not being able to gaze into their emptiness.

"Why are you being like this?"

"So, you don't know how to get to the stadium?" This time you turned your back towards him, trying to catch your breath, because each word he said continued to feel like a punch to the gut, another finger around your throat.

A stray tear stained your cheek, your hand flying up to quickly swipe it away. You faced him once again, "Is that all you care about, huh? The stadium?" You let out a dry laugh. "No," and for a second you had hope, "I don't care about anything, just curious." There he went shredding every ounce of it. 

It broke you out of your trance for a second, turning to look at the bus your brother Cha Hyun-Su was trapped in. You were overwhelmed and not sure what to do, various emotions drowning you. "Help me get Hyun-Su out." You nodded to the bus, not wanting to speak of your feelings for him any longer.

"No, this is his test." He said taking a seat on some steps. You huffed, irritation flooding you. It was as if you were speaking to a wall.  "Yah! Lee Eun-Hyeok do something!" You yelled at him. He simply stared at you blankly. "He's a neo-human. He can get himself out."

"What if he can't? I just found him again, please, Lee Eun-Hyeok..." You whispered shakily, sniffling. "Then I guess you're both useless to me." You didn't ever think you'd hear Eun-Hyeok say something like that to you. The last words he'd said were a promise of love and that he would return to you.

Now he sat in front of you not because he had returned to you, but by chance, because he didn't willingly seek you out. "Don't say that. Stop being like this!" You cried out. "I waited all this time for you, just for you to— to what? Hate me? You said you loved me! You promised me you'd come back and you never did! And now you're— you're acting like this!" You gave up on trying to match his nonchalance, you couldn't take it, couldn't stand the sight of his lips in that straight emotionless line. From his unfurrowed brows to his dry eyes, they all led you to the conclusion that he didn't care.

"I don't hate you, and I don't love you." You couldn't even feel your nails digging into the palm of your hands leaving deep crescent marks.

When did he stop loving you? Why did he stop loving you? You didn't want to know. You just wanted to feel his warm embrace around you. What he should've done when he first saw you. Yet here he was calling you useless, another finger tightening around your throat. You weren't sure when you had started crying but there was no stopping the tears now.

You wanted him to see that he was hurting you, you wanted him to stop. Maybe he could see it in your eyes, your desperation to see a glimpse of the Eun-Hyeok you knew because his next words were "I'm not the Eun-Hyeok you remember." Not even flinching at the sight of your tears.

He used to kiss those same tears away, and now he was the cause of them, the fuel that aided them.

"I'm a neohuman, the next step in human evolution."

"I don't care, Hyeok!" He almost flinched at the memory of your nickname for him. Almost.

"I don't care if you're a neohuman or a monster, all I care about is you! But you don't care about me, you don't love..." you didn't finish your sentence, you couldn't. You could no longer hold your body up, falling to the rough tar of the street. You felt a warm liquid against the skin of your knees due to the fall. That pain was nothing compared to the wound to your heart.

Your chest felt as if it was on fire. "Why are you doing this to me?" You sobbed, your hands coming up to cover your eyes.

"Oppa..." you cried for Hyun-Su. Suddenly Eun-Hyeok was crouched beside you as shards of the bus burst through the air. You uncovered your eyes, tears still falling as you looked at Eun-Hyeok.

"If you got hurt he would never agree to help me." You bit your lip to hold in the sob.

You looked past him to see Hyun-Su standing in front of the remains of the bus. His brown eyes made you cry harder. He was back. Eun-Hyeok stood up, as Hyun-Su made his way toward the both of you.

Once he stood in front of you he pulled you to your feet, before his arms tightly embraced you. "Oppa...you're back." You couldn't help but cry, causing him to gently rub your back in an attempt to calm you. "It's okay." Another attempt to soothe you. You hugged him tighter, begging the ache in your heart to go away. He slightly pulled away as your breathing evened out, but tears still raced down your cheeks. He wiped the tears, "I'm sorry." Escaping his lips.

It felt as if he was apologizing for letting dark Hyun-Su take over but also for Eun-Hyoek's actions.

"It's okay, Hyun-Su." You struggled to put a smile on. Eun-Hyeok began walking off toward the way he assumed the stadium was. You squeezed Hyun-Su's hand, "Thank you for coming back to me." You gently said before letting go. You caught up to Eun-Hyeok, grabbing his wrist to stop him. "I'm not letting you leave again. You can hurt me all you want, I don't care how much more pain I have to go through or how long I have to wait for you, I'll wait." You sniffled.

He turned to face you, "I have my memories, but I don't have any emotions." It felt as if this was his way of  apologizing. "That's how it is for us, and we learn fast." He pulled your hand off his own wrist. "If you're fast learners, you can learn emotions. I'll love you... love you until you learn to love me again." You said in an even voice. He remained silent, turning to walk off again.

Another tear slipped from your red eyes. Grabbing his wrist once again you turned, pulling him in the opposite direction, the correct way to the stadium. Your hand clasped his tightly not allowing him to let go. As you reached Hyun-Su your other hand finding his as you continued to make your way to the stadium. Hyun-Su threw a glare at Eun-Hyeok, infuriated that your tears were his cause.

Hyun-Su squeezed your hand in his pulling you more towards him, "You shouldn't wait for him, he doesn't deserve it." He said as if Eun-Hyeok wasn't even there. If it weren't for your hand tightly gripping his cold one, you'd forget he was even there. "I know, but I—I still love him." You stuttered and glanced at Eun-Hyeok whose sharp eyes never strayed from looking in front of him.

You turned resting your head on Hyun-Su's shoulder, "You don't know how much I missed you, Oppa." Eun-Hyeok's eyes cautiously glanced your way as you weren't looking.

"Me too," Hyun-Su replied glancing toward you, placing a kiss to your forehead. A small smile painted your lips. It was your first genuine smile since he had returned. Lee Eun-Hyeok gazed ahead once again, not wanting to stare at your smile for too long. Something about it caused a stir deep within him.

You had grown used to waiting, almost numb to the feeling. You had waited for Lee Eun-Hyeok, for your brother Cha Hyun-Su, if you had to wait a little longer to truly be united with the man you loved then that is what you will do. You refused to believe that the Eun-Hyeok you love was no longer within the man beside you. You knew deep within him he was there somewhere. Although Eun-Hyeok had crushed all your hope, the return of your Hyun-Su reignited it. You had Hyun-Su now, and that would be enough.

You will ignore the ache in your heart and wait for Lee Eun-Hyeok's return. You will gaze into his dark brown cold eyes with the warmth of your own. Meet his emotionless face with your own filled with desperation, love, any other emotion you could muster. You will love this shell of a man that used to be your Eun-Hyeok. Because it's all you could do.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A/N: Is this my first post in like over a year? Yes… 😭😭 Did I write this at like 4am after I finished watching season 3? Yes.

Also I was v disappointed with Lee Eun Hyeoks return or how it was written I guess, like why was he more loving toward Cha Hyun Su than his sister? 😭😭

+Also where are all the sweet home fics? I’ve read like all of them already 😭

[ddejavvu]

i just read your drabble about Darry being sweet on pregnant reader and I love the part where he says he will lift her stomach up if the baby got too heavy 😭 can we pls have another drabble where he does that

send me requests for the outsiders!

--

It's pretty impossible for you to wash the dishes at this stage of your pregnancy. Your belly provides an immovable barrier between you and the kitchen counter, and leaning over into the sink puts uncomfortable pressure against your stomach that makes you nervous. Not to mention the backache from hunching over- doing the dishes is simply not in your wheelhouse anymore.

That doesn't mean you can't dry them, though. You can take a towel and wipe the water droplets off of the glasses once Darry is done washing, and you can set them neatly on the counter if you can't manage to put them away yourself. You can still contribute to the household, no matter what Darry says.

"Are you out of bed again?" He asks, his voice coming from the bathroom as he exits the shower. He's a little more forward thinking than Sodapop: he brings his clothes into the bathroom so that he doesn't get caught naked by any unexpected visitors, which means that he's wearing a threadbare sleeping tee that's tight around the chest, plaid pajama pants over his lower half.

"I'm just drying the dishes, Dar." You promise, "Nothing strenuous."

"It looks strenuous." He frowns, brows creasing hard as he looks at your posture. Standing while this heavily pregnant is inherently awkward; you have to hunch yourself to maintain your new center of gravity.

"It's not, honey. I'm okay, I promise."

He studies you for a moment, leaning against the counter on his hip. Then he makes his decision, starting forwards over the small kitchen floor. You think he's reaching for the dish you're drying, trying to take it away from you in another endearingly overbearing attempt to relieve you of moving a single muscle. So you turn away from him, clutching the towel and the dish to your chest as if you could ever fight him off if he truly wanted to take it from you. But his hands slide around your waist and beneath your belly, apparently exactly the angle he'd wanted as he slowly, gently lifts your baby's weight off of your back.

You nearly melt into his chest at the feeling of the relief, an audible sigh leaving your mouth as he holds your pregnant belly off of your tired muscles.

"That feel nice?" He guesses, his voice a soft murmur beside your ear as you lean back against him. You should be more considerate; maybe he doesn't want your entire body weight slung against him while he lifts your baby bump, but he's sturdy and strong nevertheless. It doesn't seem to be a struggle for him.

"It feels so nice, Dar." You hum, feeling your tired muscles loosen and sing with relief from their constant strain, "Love it when you do this."

He presses a chaste kiss against your temple, still unmoving despite your whole body sagging against him, "Well I won't be doin' it for much longer. Baby's comin' in two weeks."

"You'll still have to hold her," You muse, "She's gonna hang off of you like a little monkey, Dar."

He chuckles and it shakes you slightly, the warmth of his chest intensified by the sweetness of his laughter, "You think so?"

"I know so." You nod, eyes still closed as you lean against his chest, "She's gonna love you. She'll be a total Daddy's Girl."

"I hope so." He hums, and you know that it's not as casual as it sounds: he's truly worried about his capabilities as a father, and he has been since you'd announced your pregnancy. But you know he'll be a great one, not only from the way that he takes care of his brothers, but by the way his hands already so expertly cup your stomach, cradling your baby before she's even born. You tug his hands closer together beneath your stomach, feeling your baby squirm but not kick in your belly.

"You'll be a great dad," You promise, soaking in the warmth of his touch as you lean back against him. She squirms again, not kicking you in the ribs but instead gently settling against the support his hands offer, "You already are."

[yesimwriting]

what have felix and lovie been up tooooo

considering i recently got back from my first ever trip to england they are extra alive and well !!! this would have been up sooner but i stopped to take a small break and fell asleep for awhile 😭

----

The hazy feeling swirling through your body has made the rest of the world feel like mush. It'd take a strength you can't quite grasp to not lean into the sensation, so you let it take over.

Your eyes fall shut. You give yourself a beat to enjoy the feeling before lifting a hand to wipe at your face.

The world seems to shift. Something soft brushes against the side of your face. The feeling is so gentle it borders on intangible. "Y'okay?"

Felix's breath is warm against your ear, as gentle and fleeting as the sound of his voice. You shift back just enough to really look at Felix. He's staring at you, eyebrows pinched together slightly. "Yeah," you tell him, "Just a little tired."

He watches you for a long second, taking his time reading your features. "You're high."

The corner of Felix's mouth pulls upwards, a lazy smile that only adds to your haziness. It's hard to not reflect his joy. You can feel the grin tugging at your lips. "Not that high."

Felix shifts, not exactly straightening or leaning away from you, but he does lift his chin slightly. You watch him curiously, unaware of much until you feel his touch against your chin. His fingers curl beneath your jaw, thumb pressing against your chin.

The warmth of his touch is so consuming you can't bring yourself to wonder what he's doing. You're too distracted by the sensation to even react to Felix tilting your head. Sometimes you wish you could melt into him.

"Should never let you do anything with Farleigh." Felix's voice remains too light for the comment to feel truly passive aggressive, but there's a hint of something else there. You're too drowsy to guess at it.

Smoking with Farleigh while in Felix's room with several of his friends is hardly the most outrageous thing you've ever done. Felix was busy entertaining his other friends, so when Farleigh offered, you had been bored enough to accept. Besides, the joint had been passed around to over half the people in the room, and those that hadn't smoked had been too drunk to do so.

"I don't know," you mumble, "I don't think he's that bad."

Felix sighs, his breath warm as it the side of your face. "You complimenting Farleigh?" His hand slips away from your chin and onto your shoulder. "I've lost you, Lovie."

You shake your head once, fighting down a grin. "You're very melodramatic today."

He's closer than he needs to be, and you're terribly glad for it. Felix is always pretty, but now you can make out the little details. The golden flecks of color tinging the dark brown of his irises, the length of his eyelashes, the light splattering of freckles spread out across his cheeks and nose.

The corner of his mouth tilts upwards, a small dimple etching itself into his cheek. "You bring it out in me."

You're sure that the perfect, lighthearted response is patiently waiting for you to stumble onto it. Your lips part, but no words come. Anything logical feels far, like it belongs to some other version of yourself that's currently away.

"Are you tired?" The question is so genuine, an honest answer almost tumbles out. Sure, you're feeling a little more out of it than you thought you would, but you don't want to bring down the mood. You press your lips together and shake your head. "Really?"

You nod, keeping your expression as neutral and put together as possible. "I'm okay."

His eyebrows pinch together. "You want to lay down?" Felix straightens, setting his hands against the mattress. "For a little?"

While you have nothing against taking a nap in Felix's bed, the two of you aren't alone. There are people everywhere, leaning against Felix's desk and sitting on the floor. There's even a girl sitting on the other side of Felix, on the same bed he's telling you to lie down on.

"It's okay." You sit up a little straighter in an attempt to seem more awake. "I don't want to bother anyone."

Felix leans back a little more, his weight settling on his forearms. "No one will care."

No one will care if he lies down on someone's lap randomly. The thought almost slips out before you can stop it. Maybe you should lay down for a little. You nod, "Okay."

Felix places a hand on your arm, keeping you steady as you move to lay down. You set your head on his lap. Felix drags his knuckles against your arm, back and forth with a consistency that settles you.

You're in a place between asleep and awake when you hear someone mention some club opening in the city. Mira, the other girl on the bed gasps. "We should go--we should totally go." There's a beat of silence, and then she asks, "Felix?"

"Hm..." He hums, his hand never stalling on your arm. The last thing you can make out is someone repeating the question.

----

taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains @ker0senebunny @lilyrachelcassidy @khxna @imbabycowboy

[moons-and-mobility-aids]

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve | Chapter Thirteen | Chapter Fourteen | Chapter Fifteen | Chapter Sixteen | Chapter Seventeen | Chapter Eighteen | Chapter Nineteen | Chapter Twenty | Chapter Twenty-One | Chapter Twenty-Two | Chapter Twenty-Three | Chapter Twenty-Four | Chapter Twenty-Five | Chapter Twenty-Six | Chapter Twenty-Seven

Content Warnings: Adult content (video of female masturbation, male masturbation), mostly accurate depictions of being an onlyfans creator (hi, I am one), reader is fem, uses a wheelchair, and has cerebral palsy.

The week stretches on, a bit quieter now without your usual messages. The men wouldn't admit it aloud, perhaps not even to themselves, but they're acutely aware of your absence.

It's not as if they aren't busy. There's always content to create, subscribers to engage with, and the constant cycle of filming and editing that never truly ends. But even in the midst of their bustling schedules, there's a sense of something missing, an undercurrent that hums just beneath the surface every time they glance at their OnlyFans inbox.

You're still around, of course—in the form of videos and photos and updates that linger like echoes in their feeds—but it's not the same. The direct line from you to them is silent, its vibrant energy muted by your break. The flirty banter, the warmth of your words seeping through screens, the thrill of that ping heralding a message from you—all absent while you take time for yourself.

They know you're away for personal reasons—James had relayed as much to Remus and Sirius after you'd mentioned you'd be taking a break. None of them pry into why; it's not their place, and they respect your privacy. But that doesn't fill the void left by your absence, doesn't quell the quiet anticipation that stirs within each time their phone lights up with a notification, hoping against hope it might be you.

The moment you come back online, James is, of course, the first to know. A week has passed since your abrupt departure, and he's grown accustomed to checking for your scheduled posts, even if it doesn't feel the same without you there. But today, something is different. As he scrolls through his OnlyFans messages, his heart skips a beat at the sight of your familiar username. There's a message for him.

His pulse quickens as he opens the notification, knowing that this means you're alright and now in touch with him once again.

You: Hey, Prongs! 💖 Thanks again for the generous tip last week—it really meant a lot. I'm feeling much better now and back to answering messages. As a thank-you, I've attached a special video just for you, Moony, and Padfoot. 😘 Hope you all enjoy it!

The text arrives with a video attachment, marked as 'For your eyes only.' It’s an exclusive piece of content, free and specifically tailored for them. His heart begins to pound in his chest—not just from the thrill of new magic, but also from the promise of hearing from you after a week of silence. He can't help but grin, excitement causing his fingertips to tingle.

He sends a quick message to the group chat he shares with Sirius and Remus. Sirius is supposed to be in the middle of filming a custom video, so James knows better than to shout across their flat. And Remus is likely deep into editing, headphones on and world out, so he wouldn’t hear James if he called out anyway.

James: Guess who's back and just sent us a special video?

The response from Sirius is surprisingly instant, the anticipation palpable even through the pixels on the screen.

Sirius: I need to see this! Give me two minutes to clean up.

Remus takes a bit longer, his reply thoughtful as always, yet carrying an undercurrent of curiosity that mirrors your own.

Remus: A special video, huh? Looks like today’s shaping up to be more interesting than I thought.

A chuckle escapes James as he imagines their faces, the three of them huddled together around whatever device they can find, ready to press play. There's an intimacy to this ritual, not just because it ends with them tangled in each other, their bodies humming with release—that's been their dynamic for years now.

James quickly sets up his laptop on the coffee table, deciding that a larger screen might be a nice change. They all settle onto the couch, Sirius still only in his boxers, hair dishevelled from filming. Remus rolls his eyes at the sight, but there's fondness in the gesture, even as they're about to get off to your latest video. The air between them crackles with anticipation, a current that's grown stronger over the past few weeks.

The first glimpse of your face on screen sends a rush through them all, that familiar thrill that comes with each new video. You're in what appears to be your bedroom, the lighting soft and warm against your skin. You're nude, a sight that stirs their blood, but it's your eyes that capture James first—bright and playful, drawing him in even before you speak.

"Hey, Prongs," you purr into the microphone, your voice a sultry melody that wraps around them all. Your legs part wider, the camera angle leaving nothing to the imagination. The sight of your arousal is blatant—a provocation that has Sirius shifting in his seat, his pulse quickening. "Moony, Padfoot... I've been thinking about you lot." A slow, teasing smile spreads across your lips, and James feels a corresponding tug in his gut. "It's been a while, and thought I'd give you something special tonight."

A collective intake of breath fills the room as you lean back, revealing your entire body to the hungry gaze of the camera. Your hand moves, almost casually, to pick up a small device from beside you—a toy James recognises instantly. It's a clit suction vibrator, a recent addition to your videos, but this time it feels different. More intimate, like you're using it just for them.

The toy slips between your thighs, an intimate buzz that makes you gasp. It's not just the sensation, though that sends a warm flush spreading through your body—it's the knowledge of the eyes on you, unseen yet keenly felt.

James' breath hitches as he watches you squirm, the muscles in his thighs tightening with each small movement you make. The heat in his chest flares brighter, hotter—your pleasure reflected back at him, stoking the fire within. His hand itches to mimic the rhythm of your toy, but he stays still, captivated by the sight of you lost in bliss.

Your head tilts back, exposing the curve of your throat—a silent, yearning invitation as you shift your hips against the toy buzzing against your clit. And all the while, your eyes never leave the camera, as if you can see them right there with you, sharing in this intimate moment.

"I've missed you all," you confess, the words barely more than a whisper but laden with longing. "I've been thinking about how you'd react...how much I know you enjoy watching me like this."

A low growl rumbles in Sirius' throat, his hands already working to free his cock from the confines of his boxers. His gaze is glued to the screen, drinking in every detail—the way your chest rises and falls, the slight tremble in your thighs, the soft sighs that escape your lips.

"She knows exactly what she's doing," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire and mirroring the tension coiling tighter within all three men.

James grunts in agreement, already unzipping his jeans to free his aching length, thumb swiping over the tip. There's no room for hesitation, not when you're there, spread out before them, your body reacting to the toy as you climb higher.

Remus's gaze is glued to the screen, his breath hitching as your pleasure mounts, your moans spilling out into the quiet space. He leans back against the couch, hand dipping beneath the waistband of his sweats to wrap around his hardened cock, stroking himself slow and steady. Your voice, quivering with ecstasy, wraps around them tighter than any enchantment. The sensation is intoxicating—overwhelming. It's as if they’re right there with you, watching you unravel at their command.

"I know you've been waiting for this," you whisper, your voice barely audible over the hum of the toy. Your body trembles as another wave hits you, the suction relentless against your swollen clit. "So I'm going to give you exactly what you want."

James's hand moves faster, his knuckles brushing against the rough fabric of his jeans. The sight of you, your body writhing and your voice calling out to them—it's too much, too real. It feels like you're there with them, speaking directly to their deepest desires. He glances at Sirius, whose hand is a blur in his lap, matching the rhythm of your cries.

Remus is quieter, more controlled. His eyes never leave the screen, the tension visible in the set of his jaw, the way his fingers curl around his length. Every gasp you let out is mirrored in the tightening of his grip, the quickening of his breath.

Your hips buck against the toy, your breath coming in ragged gasps as the pleasure builds to a crescendo. “I’m so close,” you whisper, your voice breaking as you look into the camera, your eyes dark with desire. “Come with me, all three of you.”

That's all it takes to unravel them. James's body stiffens, his breath catching in his throat as he finds his release, his eyes never leaving the screen where you teeter on the brink of ecstasy. The soft keen that slips past your lips fills the room, and for a moment, everything else fades away. It's just you, your body quaking with pleasure, and them, utterly consumed by the sight.

"Fuck," Sirius groans, his body jerking as he follows suit, surrendering to the relentless pull of desire. Remus is last, his orgasm quieter, more controlled, but the look in his eyes as he shudders and spills over speaks volumes.

The video ends there, with you lying on the bed, a satisfied smile playing on your lips and your chest rising and falling as you catch your breath. You turn your head to face the camera, your eyes gleaming with amusement. "Hope that was worth the wait, guys," you purr, your voice soft and teasing.

And then the screen goes dark.

For a moment, the room is silent save for the sound of their own breathing—shallow, uneven—as they come back to themselves, the afterimages of what they've just seen still burning behind their eyelids. They've watched together before, but this... This was different. More intimate. A glimpse into a part of you they'd only ever imagined.

Sirius is the first to break the silence, letting out a low whistle as he leans back against the couch, his expression unreadable. "Well, fuck me," he mutters, rubbing a hand over his face as he tries to make sense of the storm of emotions brewing inside him. "She's... She's something else."

"Isn't she?" James exhales, sinking further into the cushions. His fingers drum against the armrest, a rhythmless melody reflecting the turmoil beneath his calm exterior.

Remus doesn't reply right away, his attention fixed on the now blank screen of the laptop. ”She knows how to get under our skin," he says at last, his voice low and thoughtful, the words barely more than a whisper. Yet they carry a weight that seems to fill the room, pressing down on all three men with an intensity that belies their simplicity.

James lets out a dry chuckle, running a hand through his hair, making it stand on end. "That she does, Remus. That she does." He looks at the others, his hazel eyes holding a spark of defiance despite the situation. "And she knows we're hooked."

The three of them sit quietly for a moment, the glow of the screen casting long shadows across the room. The echo of your moans still seem to hang in the air, even though the video has ended. It's strange how quickly this has become a part of their lives—this connection with you, even if it's only through the ether.

They are still getting to know you, still trying to understand what it all means. But one thing is clear: you have their full attention.

As the night deepens, James picks up his phone again, thumb hovering over the keyboard. He takes a moment, considering his words before he types out a response.

ProngsPlayground_free: That was brilliant. You've made our week with that, I swear. 😏 Can't wait to see what you get up to next. Thanks for thinking of us. 💖

He hits send, the satisfaction settling into his bones. What comes next is anyone's guess, but they're content to let the events unfold as they may. With you back online, there's no doubt things are about to get interesting again.

Taglist: @alohastitch0626

[i-write-things]

Cuddle Spider

(Yan! Chrollo x Willing! Reader)

It is in human nature to seek warmth. Achieving homeostasis is a characteristic of all living things. When we are cold, we seek warmth, be it physically or emotionally.

Imagine being freezing outside, and right next to you is a fire. But you are not allowed to cuddle up to said fire. You can only admire. A mysterious force is holding you back from gratifying yourself with such a comfort.

That is you right now. You are the one freezing. The cold is a combination of it being winter, and the AC running too much for your liking. Even as you sit on the edge of the bed you feel no warmth. The fire is the very man sitting across from you in a chair, reading and unbothered by the temperatures. And the mysterious force is your conscious.

A part of you wants to cuddle up to him. You're well aware he would be willing to do so. He's not doing a hefty task currently. Even if he only wanted to continue reading, who could hold you and read. His heat would be certainly welcome. Not to mention, the feeling of safety that comes with being wrapped up in his arms.

However, you feel- no, you know this is wrong. This man, though charismatic, intelligent, and thoughtful in his own unique way, is a monster. He took you. Without your consent, he scooped you up and away. And while you no longer have to worry about taxes, morons for customers and coworkers, and feeling touch starved, it doesn't change the fact he is not a good person. He steals things that are considered to be national treasures for the sake of, not even riches nor status, but rather for the thrill of the swiping. And also for a second reason you couldn't quite decipher, though you have your interpretations as to what he meant.

Still. That wasn't even the worst of it. As you look at him now- his raven colored hair hanging over his forehead, covering up that mysterious tattoo and just barely dangling over his eyes. Enigmatic, deep stone colored eyes that carefully scan over the contents of the page that tells a tale of who knows what.- he acts so calm. He is calm, really. But how? After all he's done, the stealing of precious valuables, stealing of people, the mass murderings...You just can't seem to wrap around your head how he can sit here, so relaxed and at ease, all whilst knowing the atrocities he's committed.

And yet, despite this, you still feel that compelling urge to crawl into his lap. To get him to lay down on the bed you now share, and lay down on his chest, his muscular arms creating a safe haven for you. Is it real love you experience, or is it the succumbing to Stockholm Syndrome? The latter being the most likely choice in this scenario. You've been kept here for what you estimate to be about 9 or 10 months. Truthfully, you have no real idea, but this is simply your best guess, judging by the weather and seasons. Though, it feels more like a year or 2 than anything.

Stockholm Syndrome was doing funny things to you. It made you crave the touch of a man you should despise with all your might. You continue to stare and think deeper and deeper about this. Truly, you where the beauty and he was the beast. Although he was an alternate, more backwards version. He started off as the handsome prince, then revealed himself to be a beast.

You and Chrollo. Beauty and the best. You chuckle at the thought. A grave mistake to make while staring at the chap. His observant eyes picked up to you, and a small, amused smirk sneaks onto his face as well.

"What's so funny?" He asked charmingly, as if you had just giggled at a joke he made.

"I-Its...nothin'. Just um...just a dumb thought I had."

"Care to share?"

"As I said, it's pretty dumb. it wasn't even all that funny, really."

"Then what's holding you back from telling me. You seemed as carefree as the wind when you where staring at me a couple of moments ago." His mouth transformed from an amused smirk, to a smug grin. Jerk. Doesn't he know how pretty he looks when he does that? He probably does.

"I-..." Your words die on your tongue and go back down your throat. Of course he knew you where looking. He's Chrollo fucking Lucilfer, of all people.

You have a couple of options. You can compliment him. Distract his thoughts, but you know from experience he will take it, and not give you your reward of changing the subject. You could insult him. But...something tells you not to, and it isn't fear. Just a feeling that you don't want to. You could flip the tables, and ask him what he thinks it is, but he would turn it once more and back to you. He was crafty with his words like that. Lying would be fruitless, as he would know immediately. He knows all your ticks and give aways. Your only option is the truth, and hope he doesn't feel insulted.

"I was just thinking...this whole...thing. It reminds me of beauty and the beast."

"Assuming I'm the beast?" He raises an eyebrow. "and what whole thing are you referring to?"

"I just- Well, um. Okay, yes. in this situation, you are the beast. Or at least, a reverse version. You used to be the handsome prince, and now you're the beast. And the thing I was referring to is...y'know, the not letting me go, thing."

"Hm..." He watches you for a moment with those predatory eyes before speaking. "You thought I was the handsome prince. Though I have revealed my true colors, my looks haven't changed."

Jerk. Handsome jerk.

"Well, yes," You sigh, knowing exactly what he was suggesting. And, it was true. "You're looks haven't changed and...you maybe still are um...y'know. But that doesn't take away from the fact you're a beast."

"I'll take that as a compliment. The beast did anything he could for Belle, if I'm not mistaken. And she did fall for him at some point as well. Are you sure you're still Belle and I'm the beast in this whole 'thing', as you put it?"

"It's only Stockholm Syndrome." You scoff playfully, not being able to help the small smile as you cross your arms.

"Excuse me?"

"I said it was just- oh."

You realize your mistake. A very, very stupid one.

You just admitted you having fallen for him. And that stupid smug grin you so dearly want to either kiss or smack off his face isn't helping.

"L-look, okay, I admit-"

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" He queries, going to sit beside you on the edge of the bed. His hand started to slowly creep up and down your bicep, causing goosebumps to wake in his touch. Something he felt and was aware of.

"B-because I...W-well.." You nervously spout, looking for any sort of out. You can't tell this...this psychopath your true feelings. Instead of saying something smug, he does something worse:

He waits patiently and silently as you dig yourself into a deeper whole. Of course, you could deny, deny, deny. But...the fire is so close. Despite the force holding you back....if you could only just...relent a little. Besides, you'd feel releived, wouldn't you? Like finally telling your childhood crush you like them while on the playground at recess. That's exactly what this is. You're both on the playground, and he is your silly little crush, and none of this will matter. That doesn't stop your hummingbird of a heart.

Taking in a deep breath, with a face radiating the warmth you wish you'd receive from Chrollo, you finally talk. "Look, I just...Ok. I'm not even sure if I should love you. I mean, yes, I do love you, and I do want to be held and I secretly enjoyed it everytime you held me at night these past couple weeks. I cannot deny the way my h-heart skips everytime your gorgeous eyes observe my every action. Though I find it creepy, I also find it very fascinating. But I still feel like this isn't right. You-You stole many things, killed many people, and outright took me. I just- I just feel like I'm not supposed to love you."

He stares at you quietly for a beat or two after. For a moment, you're afraid you babbled on too fast, and he'd make you repeat yourself. But that's dumb for two reasons. 1. he can see and move faster than you can comprehend. 2. he speaks up after.

"None of your situation calls for normal circumstances. In the world you live in right now, your options are limited."

"Yes, but...-" Your chin is lifted up with his index finger and now you face him. What a sappy, cliche move. It doesn't prevent the already prevalent blush on your face to increase, however.

"You don't have to feel a certain way just because society wouldn't be pleased with it. After all, society wouldn't be pleased about any of this. And yet, no matter what, this will happen, anyway. So why care? It's not as though society has tried to save you."

He raises a point. A fair one, at that. That, doubled with the fact you so badly want to crawl into his arms right now. Who is stopping you? No one has dared help you before. Why should you care?

"I can see the stirring in your mind. You know I'm right." He states. You nod quietly.

"Then, what are you going to do about it?"

After a moment of silence, you give in. You gently push him back down to lay on the bed. At first, his eyebrows raise in surprise. He didn't think he convinced you to go this fast. But his confusion is soon quelled with an answer as you lay down on him, cuddling up to him in a much more wholesome manner than he thought you would. His expression softens. As you lay your head on his chest and curl up to him, he wraps his warm, protective arms around you. The book and mysterious force now gone. It all had dissolved much like a weak resolute in a strong resolvent. He let's out a peaceful, happy sigh, and you follow suit.

"You know, I've known about how you felt for some time." He reveals.

...Honestly, you knew. You are well aware nothing gets passed him. You where only just saving yourself from the embarrassment of admitting, and from the force that had held you back for what felt like a year.

"I know," you sigh "I'm just glad I get to do this now. Is it....is it okay of we do it more often?"

He let's out a handsome chuckle "Of course, my dear. How can I say no to denying you of what you desire when it's something as simple and precious as this? I had a feeling you might like this. Before I took you away, you where quite the cuddle bug."

"Hmm....." You hum. "Cuddle spider." You correct, nuzzling his chest. This felt much better than just staring at him from afar.

"Yes," he chuckles, liking your little pun. "My cuddle spider."

[scurvgirl]

Kissing Crows

I think Rook and Lucanis should kiss more. Minor spoilers for Lucanis's arc. (Rating: T) Rook is not specified other than using she/her pronouns.

There should have been a kiss after A Murder of Crows. I fix.

--

Rook could have sworn there was inuendo laced within Lucanis's words when he insisted they depart from Villa Dellamorte. "I have plans." Her entire body, aching from fighting Venatori, tingled at the thought. A girl could get by on heated glances, near touches, and a near kiss only so much after all.

When the team arrived back at the Lighthouse, Lucanis insisted on changing into his off-duty attire (she refused to call a waistcoat more comfortable - comfortable was worn leather, soft fabrics, not buttons and ties). She got that - blood got stinky if not tended to quickly enough and she could only guess how hot his leathers got with all the buckles and straps and dramatic swoops.

She figured he'd find her afterwards. He did not.

So, Rook left her quiet meditation room and headed for the larder. She found him in his natural habitat - in the kitchen, brooding over a cup of coffee.

Truly.

She poked at him. He smiled, then made a vague reference to how she was important to him. Nothing outright, of course, that would be too much.

Her heart sank as he seemed content to return to sipping his coffee. Well. That was that. First Talon and he just wanted...coffee.

She turned from him, about to walk away when...no. No. This was absurd! He either wanted to be with her or he didn't and she was over these suggestions of more. She didn't want a suggestion, she needed a confirmation.

Rook turned back to him and maybe a bit of her irritation showed on her face because Lucanis raised a brow,

"Rook?"

"We have been through some tough shit together, Lucanis. I've helped you and now I need your help."

He leaned forward, immediately concerned, "What do you need of me?"

"I need you to tell me why two people who are clearly attracted to each other, who respect each other, who want to be with each other...aren't with each other. Because I've made my desire known and for a moment, in the larder, I thought you did too but..." Alright, she was running out of steam and it didn't help that his face had morphed from shock to embarrassed pain.

"I did. Do. It is complicated."

"Explain."

"Spite...it is one thing to be with me, but Spite..."

"You're worried about me fucking the demon in you?"

He coughed, blushed, recoiled in the least graceful move she had ever seen from him. It only endeared her more to him.

Before he could recover enough to respond, she was stepping forward, "I have seen you, all of you, and Spite. I have walked in your mind, felt your heart, fought beside Spite, helped Spite. He does not worry me."

"How? If I lost control while we...I cannot let that happen."

"Then we set the expectation with Spite. It's not like he can't be reasoned with. Watch."

"You cannot seriously -

"Hey, Spite. Spite!"

"Smells like beans and desire!"

"You bet it does. I want to make a deal."

"A deal?"

"Yeah. When Lucanis and I are intimate together, you let him run things in the body, full stop - no manifesting."

Spite's face twisted into disgust, "Why would I do that? I don't. Taste flesh."

"So you agree you won't manifest if I kiss Lucanis?"

"No! Too much!"

"Great. Lucanis!"

Spite receded as a very perturbed Lucanis pushed through - purple fading from warm brown.

"Rook."

"Lucanis." She was on him in a second - knees suddenly beside his thighs, hands gently cupping his face as she leaned down. He didn't turn away.

He smelled like coffee and he was so warm. His beard and mustache tickled but she didn't mind. Instead, she moved her lips over his, feeling his warmth and taking in every moment.

In the end, it was Lucanis who opened his mouth first. The kiss deepened with mutual sighs of long awaited pleasure. Her body relaxed more firmly against his while his hands ran up her back. She tasted his coffee, his heat, the slight tingle of electricity of his possession, but most importantly - she tasted him.

They broke the kiss to breathe only to find themselves liplocked into another kiss - this time with Lucanis guiding her so that her head rested with the cradle of his elbow while he plundered her mouth his his. His fingertips grazed up her jawline. Her hands sank into his long hair. And they kissed and kissed and kissed until their lips were reddened and their eyes hooded with amorous affection.

She smiled softly, trailing a finger down his jaw, "Congrats on becoming First Talon."

Laughter, pure and simple escaped him. "You are a wonder, Rook. Thank you." He kissed her again.