Okay, So I Know This Is Not What I Normally Post But I Feel Like It Has To Be Said.

Okay, so I know this is not what I normally post but I feel like it has to be said.

I am so tired that people choose to share something on social media first before anything else. Rape is NOT something you joke with. If you accuse someone of raping you, the first this you should do is to talk to someone! Your lawyer, your family, whatever! NOT go to twitter first! It is in my opinion the worst thing you could do.

YES I DO SUPPORT WOMEN SPEAKING UP! The fact that they have the courage to do so, is really brave! But! I’m pretty sure that they all have talked so someone who helps with that stuff before talking about it online.

They are destroying the people that they are accusing’s life. It’s not something you just do lightly.

It know it might seem harsh to say, but it’s so frustrating.

come out and haunt me - c!technoblade x reader 

“i trust you with my life.”

the fire crackles downstairs. you open your mouth, then close it. you let techno speak.

“back there, i… my first thought was that you weren’t going to kill me. and when i remembered what you’re here for, my – my only thought was no. the voices were yelling at me the whole time except – except that moment where i went, no, they’re not going to let me die.” he takes a deep breath. “i want to know if that’s true.”

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it’s still technically valentines day in like,, california? SO HAPPY VALENTINES DAY EVERYONE! i gift you with the once-foretold Techno Smut Fic, except its an 11k word monster. more porn in it than usual though, so you’re welcome! as for the fact that i am coming back from a week-long death: thank you all for sticking with me regardless!! i’ll be opening up asks (and submissions 👁👁) tonight and also will be posting some recs that i was fed over my Silent Week tmrw morning because Awooga. now, onto the work-specific things:

from what i understood of what he’s said, he’s uncomfortable with fic of him as a streamer and of shipping amongst creators, but is okay with fanfiction of his character in the smp. if this information is incomplete, please let me know (with evidence)! this is entirely his dsmp character. 

warnings: NSFW (18+) content, casual (but not particularly graphic) talk of assassination/murder, necrophilia mention (within a joke), heats (and heat sex mentions), hair pulling 

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Keep reading

Tom is sounding like a supporting boyfriend being all “You got this Jordan, you got this” It’s so cute🥺

accidents | uzui tengen + wives

yandere! au

note; this is pretty short bc it was just a little idea I had today but there will be full length scenarios for these four in the future

WARNING(S): implied kidnapping, obsessive/possessive themes, blood, unhealthy relationships, nudity(not sexual), swearing, teensy bit angsty

Tengen would be angry when he returned, you knew by the sheer amount chaos going on around you. The house was a wreck about now and there was no way to cover up what had happened, especially the deep cut on your cheek and ear. Your tears and the blood pouring from the wounds made everything worse for the four of you involved

"YOU STUPID IDIOT, DON'T YOU SEE WHAT YOU'VE DONE?!" Makio kept shouting at Suma, though her sobbing was probably too loud to hear the insults being thrown her way.

Hinatsuru cradled you in her arms carefully on the floor, rocking you gently as she whispered sweet words to calm you down. As much as she wanted to get supplies to treat your injury, she couldn't just leave you there on the ground in front of her screeching co-wives. And of course, there wasn't a chance that Makio was going to let you out of her sight long enough for Hina to get you to medical attention. In fact she probably wouldn't let you away from her ever again after this whole fiasco.

"It was an accident!" Suma sobbed, clutching the carpet in her fists, trying to crawl towards you only to be pulled back by Makio once again.

She wasn't lying, it truly had been an accident. You weren't upset with her, but that didn't change the others' anger once they saw the damage inflicted.

Suma hated being seen as the more irresponsible of the wives, yet she proved it when she did things such as throwing her kunai indoors. Which is exactly what she had been doing when she accidentally grazed you. She didn't know you were there and you could admit you entered unexpectedly, holding a plate of fruit to gift to your most sensitive captor partner. She was too busy singing to herself to notice you walk in, relaxed in the comfort of her own home. You didn't know she was playing with her weapons either, the whole thing was just a freak accident.

Of course once Suma realised what she'd done, she screamed so loudly it caused the other two wives to barge in, ready to kill. Makio had chased poor Suma around the entire house twice before catching hold of her, the younger of the two crying and shouting out apologies all the while. Hina guided you out of the room, but was held up trying to stop Makio from commiting murder.

"I HAVE NEVER COME ACROSS SOMEONE SO MENTALLY DEFICIENT IN MY ENT-"

"What happened?"

And just like that, it's like time froze. In the midst of all the chaos, not one of you heard Tengen step into the, now wrecked, living area. You all knew he'd be returning that night and it wasn't like he'd never been this early before, but it completely slipped each of your minds due to the stress of the situation at hand.

Makio hovered over Suma, who's sobbing hadn't let up despite their husband's entry. If the mess wasn't an obvious indicator that something was seriously wrong, then Suma's lack of greeting was. Makio still didn't move, her gaze now trained on your face and the source of your bleeding.

Without any word, the large man walked over and plucked you from Hinatsuru's arms, ignoring her sounds of worry. He cradled you in a similar fashion to which his wife had been and carried you all the way to your shared bedroom.

Silence coming from the typically boisterous individual made you nervous. You missed Hina already, she was easily your favorite in the house. Unlike the others, she'd never punished you nor forced you into anything you didn't want. Anything you didn't want besides being here of course. You had to remember that all of them played a part in holding you captive.

The white-haired pillar placed you down on the foot of the bed carefully, still quiet as he gathered medical supplies from a box previously hidden away for emergencies. His behavior was so out of character, was he seriously this concerned? Or angry, what if it was anger?

Tengen never really got angry angry. Despite his pride and stubbornness, he could control his temper quite well when it came to you and the wives. Of course there was the common annoyance he had towards the bickering, but he was always quick and open about that. He was open with all of his feelings, actually.

×

"Oh god...! They're gonna die, aren't they?! I seriously killed them-!"

Suma was still sobbing on the ground, completely inconsolable. She may have been being dramatic, but she felt the emotions in full force. There's no way she can live with herself after hurting you like that. Everyone was so angry with her and you probably hated her now. The very thought made her scream even louder.

"Suma, it'll all be okay. No one's dying, alright?" Hinatsuru did her best to calmly comfort her younger co-wife, but it didn't come from the place it usually did. On any other day, it would be from a place of kindness and compassion, but now it's from a place of bitter annoyance.

Hina wasn't the type to be easily annoyed any more after so long of living with such strong personalities, but now she was so frustrated with Suma she could barely even look at her.

Makio gripped the sides of the table to keep herself collected and from causing more violence. This wasn't the first time she'd been angry with Suma, not even the first time today, but this is possibly the worse it's ever been.

Suma knew not to be throwing kunai indoors anymore now that they had you, yet she still did it. Not only that, but she's playing the victim when you're the one bleeding from the face.

Suddenly, she shoved the table away from her, moving to face her sobbing junior, "SHUT THE HELL UP! THIS IS YOUR DOING!"

Suma choked on her tears, finally falling to lay on her side. She was crying much harder now, but it's quietened down from pure exhaustion and loss of her voice.

She wasn't trying to play the victim by any means. She knew what she did, but she blamed herself so badly that she couldn't help but cry. She hurt you, the love of her entire life. And they expected her to be calm?

As if.

×

Tengen knew you were more delicate than his three wives, he'd known from the moment he met you. It's the exact reason why you weren't allowed to do the same things they were. They were strong, reliable adults while you were a fragile, little angel. Tougher things were for them to handle, while you sit back and let them care for you. They'd protect you from everything. The thought that they had to protect you from each other had never really been brought into consideration until tonight.

Tengen didn't have to be a genius to figure out what had happened. Suma, sobbing on the ground, you, a cut so clean on your face it could only be caused by one weapon. He'd told his youngest wife more times than he could count to stop practicing kunai throwing indoors. She listened for awhile, before going back to it again 'just for a few minutes!'. He didn't know the details of what went down, but it didn't much matter at this exact second.

Not with you shaking in front of him, eyes wide with badly concealed panic.

Withholding his feelings was difficult, sure, but he couldn't risk frightening you when you were like this.

He sighed, having not yet even started on cleaning your wound. On his knees in front of you so that the two of you were eye-level, he'd just been staring in thought. He just now realised how stressful it must've been for you.

Rising from his spot, he pulled you up next to him and led you to the bathroom. He began stripping down after starting the bath water, and only then did you fully process that he was still in uniform. He didn't remove any of your clothing until after the tub was filled with warm water, not wanting you to get cold.

He stripped you of your silk clothing slowly, admiring the way it felt and appeared on your figure. Unlike the rest of them, you wore only delicate and expensive fabric. Their reasoning behind it was because you deserved it, but you think they just enjoyed seeing you in such intricate patterns. Tengen liked it because it made him feel good about himself: like a provider.

In only a couple of minutes, you were sat straddling his legs, submerged up to your chest in warm water. You'd always enjoyed the massive size of the tub, it having to be built that way to fit tengen properly with how big he was. He used a porcelain bowl to wet your hair carefully, something Hina loved doing. As he placed the bowl down and began washing the blood off your neck with a wet cloth, you realised this was the first time you'd bathed here without at least three others crowded around you bickering over who got to wash your hair.

You smiled softly as the memory.

As angry as you were about it, you've actually began to like your captors. They weren't all that bad, and were actually quite funny to be around when it was all of them.

"What is it?" You felt Tengen's grin against you, his head now resting against your clean shoulder. You could feel how tense he was, even as he pressed gentle kisses to your wet skin. Probably from holding back all his intensity, you figured.

"I just like baths I guess." You leaned your good cheek against his hair, a gentle attempt at getting him to relax. It never meant anything good for anyone if he was in a bad mood.

After peppering a few more kisses onto your shoulder, Tengen pulled back. The blood on your neck and shoulder had been cleaned off at this point and now only your face and ear were left to treat.

"It was an accident, ya know?" You spoke, the cloth of your face pausing until you were once again still, "She didn't even realize I was in the room until it was too late. She's been crying for almost an hour now."

Her cries could still be heard through the thin walls, slightly quieter than earlier. Makio had stopped shouting at her, thankfully.

Seeing you hurt filled him with anger beyond measurement, but he couldn't stay mad at any particular person, not even Suma. Of course it was an accident, she'd never purposely do you harm. She'd rather die before then, and the rest of them would've gladly killed her. The anger he had was mostly directed at himself for not being there when it happened. For not being stricter about no weapons being used in the house. But there was nothing that could be done now except try harder in the future. Of course Suma would face consequences but that wasn't the main concern right now.

You were.

×

By the time Tengen brought you out to see the girls, the house had been completely cleaned up with any broken items tossed out. Which there were certainly broken items from Makio throwing them at Suma's head only to narrowly miss.

Makio was sitting in her favorite chair, her arm thrown over her face out of stress. You could hear Hinatsuru in the kitchen, likely busying herself with dinner none of you were hungry for. And poor Suma had cried herself to sleep on the ground where she'd been left.

As soon as you stepped back into the main room with Tengen's arms wrapped securely around you, Makio shot up from her seat waking up Suma in the process. The bi-color haired female was on you in seconds, muttering to herself bitterly as she inspected the bandages on your face. You giggled when you caught a short insult thrown Tengen's way, something about putting too much tape. Hina wasn't far behind, rushing up to you while also trying not to be too overwhelming. She was going ask you how you felt, but was cut off by the raspy cry coming from behind her.

Suma still hadn't moved from her spot on the ground, although she'd sat up. Makio and Hina moved slightly after hearing the sound, giving you a clear view of Suma's pitiful appearance.

After spending so much time crying on the floor, her hair and clothes were messy and her face, red and soaked in tears. She didn't speak as she looked up at you sadly, likely unable to with how much her voice had been used to scream and sob.

Without saying anything, you pulled away from the other three to sit on the ground in front of the crying kunoichi and pulled her into your arms. She jumped into you instantly in response, knocking you down as croaky sobs left her body. You didn't loosen her grip at her eagerness, instead pulling her closer.

Makio's face above you looked irritated, but you could tell she felt bad about how harsh she was earlier. She'd never apologize verbally; allowing Suma to hug you like that after what she did should be apology enough. Tengen was fine with what was happening for now, but the sight of Suma's snot effectively getting all over your good night gown was beginning to gross him out. It appeared Hina was the only one content.

It was a shame how charming each if them were. If they weren't so loving, maybe you wouldn't have ended up so enamored by the very people who ruined your life.

But for now, it was okay.

_____

art by ummt_kmt on twitter

666 Followers Milestone Event Scenario - Requested by @pebbsie

Pebbsie, dear! I chose the scenarios at random to work on next, so I'm very sorry that yours was last <3 Please accept my apologies, and know that I hope you enjoy it a whole lot. I hope it's a strong finish to a (exhaustingly) long event that I didn't anticipate taking this much time lol. ^_^

*Shanks also has both arms in this scenario, because it was difficult for me to write him only having one arm and being able to do the job.

WARNINGS: Semi-fluff, hurt/comfort if you squint a little, and the long-deserved smut!

How long had you been pacing the living room? A glance at the clock only served to deepen the frown stuck on your face. Too long...

Your sock-clad feet were silent as you circled the kitchen island. Given enough times around, you might tread a visible path on the wood floor. And yet still your steps continued. It was the only outlet you felt could help get rid of all of this nervous energy.

Shanks was late. You didn't like when he was late. Of course, it didn't explicitly mean anything. Bad traffic, unexpected heavy snowfall, perhaps an impromptu stop at the grocery store on the way home, or maybe the guys had invited him out for drinks after a long shift at work. All were possibilities. All were things that had happened once or twice in the past. There were times he forgot to inform you of his plans before jumping head-first into whatever it was.

You tried not to worry. Shanks was seasoned, had seen much in his years on the job. He knew the risks that came with each and every call. He'd seen more than a few mistakes and was trained in all the ways to handle bad situations. Of all of the men in the department, he was the most experienced.

None of that made you feel any better.

The sound of the garage door's mechanical, grinding whir as it opened nearly made you jump. But underneath the tiny moment of panic was an immense relief. He was home. He was safe. You hurried to the door to greet him.

You heard the truck's door close, and the sound of Shanks's footsteps approaching the door. You see the knob turn, before he's pushing his way through.

He sees you there waiting and gives a smile. "Y/N, I'm-oof!"

He's nearly pushed back through the door as you meet him with a tight embrace, squeezing tightly with a deep breath. He smelled like smoke, and sweat, but also like Shanks. And that's what you needed then and there.

He wraps an arm around you, pulling you close, his other holding a plastic bag from the nearby gas station. "Hey, I'm alright. No bad calls today." He says, knowing the reason you had greeted him this particular way. He'd grown used to your worry. "Just had to stop and get some gas, and then I got talking to the attendant about the playoffs coming up, and you know how I get about that-"

"I'm just glad you're home." You say against his shirt. He gives a low chuckle, perhaps because he found your behavior endearing, and yet just a little amusing at the same time. You didn't rightly care, though you knew he didn't mean it maliciously.

You stared at the stitching on his shirt's breast, the fire station's designation and cross-hatchet pattern a stark red against the gray of the rest of the shirt. He was so proud to be a firefighter...

You finally pull away, giving him space to actually come inside your home, and he closes the door behind him with his foot. He holds up the bag with an excited smile. "I got you your favorite candy, too. I figured we could have a night in and watch a movie?"

"Ok."

Leaning in, he places a quick kiss against your lips before pulling away with a smile. "Great. Let me get settled and showered, and we'll put something on."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With the lights off and the curtains drawn in your living room, you were curled up beside Shanks on your large, comfy couch. The cold winter air had given your home a chill throughout the day, but you didn't feel it at all right now. You were warm, wrapped in blankets and tucked into Shanks's side as you lay close together. He'd changed into his comfiest pajamas, you in your nightwear.

You'd powered through two movies already, and nothing was stopping you as the third one of the night began. Your snacks long ago eaten, the wrappers laying on the ground beside the couch, you felt full and at ease.

His hand trailed inconsistent, gentle trails up and down your arm, focus mostly on the movie. But the tender touch was enough for you, the silence you shared comfortable and heavy.

You were nearly on the edge of sleep, eyelids weighted down with fatigue and the peace between you.

You felt more than heard Shanks' chuckle as he gave your forearm a gentle squeeze. "Is the movie boring you?"

"No." You say, stifling a yawn as best you can. It doesn't really work. "Just comfortable."

"Well, don't fall asleep yet. The best part is coming up soon."

"Mmm."

"C'mon, Y/N," you can practically hear the smile in his voice, "you're gonna miss the princess giving the pirate her most heartfelt thanks, if you know what I mean."

"Really." You mutter, phrased in a monotone question. Somehow you didn't believe him.

"Oh yeah, she gives him the most erotic blowjob I've ever seen-"

You smack him on the chest, but he only laughs underneath you. "That does not happen."

"Well, who are you to know, unless you watch and find out?"

You give a sigh, unable to stop the small smile from lifting the corner of your lips. With a shimmy, you adjust yourself on him, angling so you can see the tv a little better. You lay your head on his chest, hearing the gentle and steady breathing, and the rhythmic beat of his heart.

Fight all you might, you fall asleep to such a comforting sound.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He can tell you're upset. You've never been great at hiding things like that, but this time you weren't even trying. The disappointment is visible in every crease on your face as you frown and look away.

"Why does it have to be you?" You ask, knowing how pathetic is sounded as you said it. Still wrapped in your towel, fresh out of the shower, you think even more so. "There are others at the station. Why can't Ben take the shift?"

Shanks gives you a patient sigh. "He's out of town until next week, visiting family."

"And Yasopp?"

"His wife is due anytime now. He has to be there for her when she goes into labor." He says with a shrug. It's infuriating how nonchalant he was about all of this. "You know that, Y/N."

Those are valid reasons, but really it didn't stop you from being upset. Still, you could recognize your petulance when you displayed it. "I get it. I do. But I still can't help but be...just...mad. This sucks. It feels like every time we plan something, work or something gets in the way. What is this...the fourth time I've tried to set up a night for just you and me?"

You give a sigh, rubbing at your forehead with one hand. "Fuck, this just makes me sound even more like an uncaring bitch-"

"Y/N, you're not a bitch." Shanks steps forward, brushing some of your wet hair behind your ear. "I'm sorry, I know you were looking forward to the dinner downtown tomorrow."

"We've been planning it for three weeks..." You mumble sadly, some of the anger fading, only to be replaced with pity. This really just wasn't fair. "Our first fancy date since we got together."

The place you'd reserved had a wait list almost a month out, and who knew how long it would take you to get another table now? You'd been checking their website to arrange your date night for weeks even before that.

"I know..." He says in response, expression clearly displaying the guilt he felt for being the reason your plans were now ruined. His hand comes back up to brush a thumb against your cheek. "I can't leave the station understaffed, especially on Christmas Day. It's one of the worst holidays of the year for house fires. The department needs all the firefighters they can get into working those hours."

"Stop...making sense." You say with a sigh, which drags a sad smile from him. "I just...wanted this to go right for us."

"And it will." He says, leaning forward to kiss at your wet hairline. "I'll call and tell them that I've let a beautiful woman with a heart of gold down, and ask to get a table as soon as possible. I'll beg and plead if I have to."

"Really?"

"Really."

You cock your head to the side and gaze up at him, doing your best to shake off the last of your disappointment. There was no helping it. Shanks had an obligation to his job--it was one of the things he'd told you may interfere with home life--and nothing you said would convince him to miss that shift. He was a dedicated man, to you and to his duty.

It was one of the reasons you loved him so much.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was late again.

As usual, the worry began to set in after 20 minutes. No call, no text, and the snow was coming down harder than it had in the past two weeks. It was nigh-on a blizzard, and he was out there somewhere in the city, or perhaps still at the station. As if the job wasn't already dangerous enough, he'd need to drive home in unfavorable road conditions.

You resisted the urge to contact him. His work required focus, and the last thing you wanted to do was draw his away from the task at hand. You could be patient. After all, he always came back to you. He'd come back this time too. He had to.

And he did. An hour after his shift had been scheduled to end, you heard the blessedly grating sound of the garage door opening. You immediately stood from your perch on the couch, tossing aside the remote you'd been idly clicking at for the past half hour or so. Nothing had sounded interesting in the slightest.

You made your way towards the door to the garage, already smiling before he'd walked in. You'd been looking forward to exchanging presents with him--you'd both agreed to save it for after his shift when you could relax together and not have to worry about hurrying things along for the sake of him leaving soon after.

The door opened with its typical creak, and Shanks pushed through.

Your smile disappeared at the sight of him.

Disheveled, ragged, and soot staining his face. His clothes were a mess, blackened and sweat-stained all over. Clearly Shanks hadn't bothered cleaning himself up after the last fire they'd been called to take care of. But worse yet was the haunted look he sported as he came inside.

It...had not been a good day. No words were needed to figure that out.

The moment he saw you, his dirtied state of being be damned, he dropped the duffle bag at his feet and pulled you into a crushing hug. It was almost painful, but you dared not say a word, letting him hold you as close as he needed to.

He took a deep, shaking breath, nose pressed into your hair. He said nothing, his silence speaking for him. And when you think you feel him begin to shake minutes later, you slowly pull away.

You stare up at his distress, feeling a pain in your heart at the way he'd come home to you. It hurt so much to see him in so much grief. Whatever had happened had affected him more than you'd ever seen. You didn't dare ask, though. Something told you to keep quiet, to let him just...take in the fact that he was home now.

But he needed to clean. He was filthy, and perhaps a hot shower would help more towards shifting his state of mind from work back to the comfort and safety of home. So with a gentle tug of his hands, you draw him backwards towards your master bathroom. He goes without resistance.

You run the shower as hot as you think the both of you can handle it, stripping you both of your soiled clothing. Shanks' gaze is far away, but always on you, eyes never leaving your figure. It's a bit disconcerting, if you're being honest, but you still don't ask.

You step into the shower with him, turning him towards the spray first. He needs it more than you, both because he's covered in dried sweat and soot, but the warmth and water, with luck, would begin to soothe his agonizing soul.

He draws you into another hug, never letting you stray far, and you take the opportunity to wash away the dirt on his back as he holds you.

And when the shaking begins again, you hear the choked sobs follow suit. They reverberated between the shower walls, loud and bouncing. The tears he shed were lost to the shower spray, but you knew they were falling.

"There was a woman." He muttered brokenly, trying and failing to compose himself. "Trapped inside. I could see her...but I couldn't...get to her. She...she looked so much like you..."

"Shanks..." You whisper, the sound of his grief proved too much for you to resist against, and you knew your eyes leaked tears alongside his own, heart torn apart. You hated seeing him this way. "I'm so sorry."

"I couldn't help but...see you. I couldn't...save her and, I...I couldn't stop thinking about how I could lose you-"

"I'm right here." You reassure into his ear, pressing him closer to you. "I'm still here. Not going anywhere."

He only continues to sob after that, letting out all of the grief you knew he had held back from his fellow firefighters. They looked up to him, depended on his strength and level head. For as much as he took on, for as much as he could deal with and compartmentalize, he didn't want them worrying about him. But the cracks this time were too wide and the floodgates spilled out as he shook and cried and broke down in your arms.

You didn't bother with shampoo and conditioner on yourself, slowly going through the process of soaping and scrubbing at his body, washing away the last vestiges of the terrible fire. If this was the only way you could help him move past that day, by god, you would do it thoroughly.

Once he was cleaned as best you could get him, you shampooed his hair to get any of the remaining soot out. He seemed to begin to calm a bit as you massaged it through his hair, breathing still funny but lacking the stuttering of when he'd been crying. It was a start.

You stayed in the shower far longer than either of you normally would, taking your time to bring him back to you, to the safety of home and the comfort of peace.

You help him towel off after you finally step out with him. He's stopped crying at this point, but the redness in his eyes, and the way he keeps glancing at you, it's clear he is still thinking about the fire.

And so, figuring that the best thing you could do for him was stay close, you don't bother to redress, and guide him to the bed once you'd both dried off as best you could, laying naked beside him under the covers.

"Come here." You encourage. He allows you to maneuver him as you wish, until his head is pressed just above your breast, ear against your skin. With several deep and measured breaths, you glance down at your redheaded lover. "Can you hear it?"

He pauses, eyes closing, but does nod. Your heart beat, clear and loud in your chest, is a lifeline. The proof that you're alive. The evidence he needs to ground himself back in reality, rather than the dismal and downward spiraling thoughts that had plagued him since the fire.

You breathe, in and out, over and over, for who knows how long. A half hour? Hours, even? You don't rightly care. If he needed to lay there until morning or even tomorrow night, his ear pressed to your chest listening to your heart beat with life, you'd do it. You'd do anything you could to bring him back to you. He mattered so much.

"I'm sorry." Shanks suddenly whispers, his breath fanning your exposed breast.

"Don't be." You say, tracing along his neck with one hand. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"It hit me all at once, when I got home-"

"It's ok. We're both safe, we're both here with each other, which is all that matters."

"Yeah..." His deep breath in is no longer stuttered, filled with his grief. He was of course still raw with emotion, but the worst had passed. The flood of sorrow had reduced to a manageable trickle. Perhaps he'd cried out all the tears that his body had it in him to give.

And when he looks back up at you, the sadness is undertones by a his pleading expression. You have an idea of what he's going to ask before he asks it, feeling his hand move under the covers.

"Y/N, can we...please, I just want to feel you close. As close as I can." You feel the brush of his fingers against your nipple, and the sensation makes you hum. "I want to remind myself that I still have you."

"You can always have me, whenever you need me." You say in just as soft a whisper, helping him shift so that he's hovering above you. He must be exhausted, you think. A little loving attention was definitely in order. "I can do the work if you-"

"No, I want to feel you myself." He says, insistently. His lips descend to your collarbone, the kisses light and soft, and yet full of so much. "Let me do it with my own hands. I need to."

"Ok." You say, giving him full reign of whatever he needed. If this is what would help him best, you would comply.

His mouth trails up along your neck, then your jaw, before he presses it against your own. It's nowhere near as hungry and passionate as you've shared before. It's...more of a question. And your responding kiss is the answer that soothes his heart and soul.

Your fingers card up through his wet hair. You don't mind the water that drips down your hands and to the sheets below. Your own has created a damp spot on your pillow beneath your head.

He's thorough, loving and doting, his hands touching and squeezing the parts of you he needs to feel most. Your wrist, his thumb brushing over your pulse point. Your waist, fingers kneading the flesh they find with tender circles.

You jolt when he circles your nipple, pinching gently and pressing into the pillowy flesh. He groans when you gasp, savoring every noise and little sound you make in response to his ministrations. Every breath you draw, every hitch in it, he lets wash over his heart like a balm.

"Beautiful..." He mutters against your lips. "So beautiful."

Your legs come up to wrap around his waist. With a bit of awkward shifting and maneuvering, his hips slot against your core. This new position lets him hold you even closer, your chests pressed together. His lips lower to your jaw, then towards your ear. You shiver when his teeth scrape against the spot just below your ear on your neck. It isn't painful, but promises so much more than what he's currently giving.

You feel smothered underneath him, but in such a wonderful way. It may be difficult to breathe, but if every inhalation is him, it's a blessing. Simply being with him so close was life itself. Each and every touch, you're glowing. You're hot and in need of more. It's a slow build, but insistent.

"I'll never get enough of you." He says, voice so thick with emotion you barely hear the words spoken into your neck. "Don't stop breathing, ok? Please."

"I won't." You promise, eyes closing as he presses his erection against your core. The pressure is delicious, but the angle isn't right for him to actually enter you. It makes your toes curl.

"So alive, always so alive and...Y/N, I want to be inside of you."

You smile, lifting your hips to bring him just that little bit closer to where you both were connected below. "I want that too."

He sighs in relief, dragging the length of his cock along your wet entrance with slow thrusts, coating himself in your body's natural lubrication. "You're more than I deserve."

"You deserve all of me." You say. He smiles against your skin, peppering tiny kisses that send your heart aflutter.

"I can only hope." He replies, sliding one last time before he angles himself properly to push through your waiting entrance. There's a moment where you both hold your breath, savoring the way he fills you with his thick member, fitting inside you in a way only he could.

"Shanks..." You gasp, legs tightening around him as his hips meet yours, bottoming out inside of you. Biting your lip, your head falls back to the damp pillow. "Fuck, you're so..."

"Stay just like that." He pleads in a husky breath, shifting his head to lay against your chest again. "I can feel all of you this way."

You try your best to stay still, breathing shaky and stilted at times because he just filled you up so well. No doubt your heart beat at a faster pace through your chest. Shanks hums in satisfaction at the sound, his hot breath ghosting trails on your breasts. Hands caress your sides slowly, as he savors the sound inside of you.

And then he begins to move, so slowly at first, his first thrust barely more than a lazy rocking of his hips back and then forward again when he was almost pulled out of you entirely.

You fail to recall a single time sex with Shanks had ever felt quite so intimate. So...human. It's like you're breathing as one, in tandem, bodies interconnected in ways never thought possible.

"Love you...so much." He pants, unable to keep the slow pace up for long. The shaking in his arms this time isn't from grief, but from the overwhelming desire to take more of you for himself. "You're everything...don't know what I'd do without you."

The covers slip from his back as he goes faster, the bed beginning to rock underneath you with the force. Your breathy gasps morph into longing moans from deep in your chest. The coiling in your chest now buzzed and had you tensing your muscles around his waist.

His lips seek out yours again, and he kisses you. Like you're the light of his life and even more. You do your best to return the intensity, but Shanks is overwhelming and strong, and he doesn't let you. Here and now, this was about his love for you.

Shanks groans, forehead dropping to the crook of your neck as he fucks into you with commanding force. It's too much, too much. Your fingers scramble to find purchase and nails drag into his shoulders. You're caught off guard by the sudden franticness of his thrusts, and it's enough to plunge you over into a wracking orgasm.

"Y/N, you're...oh, you're so good..." He mumbles, fucking you through the waves of pleasure. The squeeze of your walls on his cock causes a hitch in his voice. "God, I love you..."

You're gasping for air as he finally follows after you, hips pressed as close as they can be into your body down below. Everything he has to give is pumped inside, and he's smiling down at the way you're flushed and boneless and even dazed underneath him.

His trembling body lowers down onto yours, unwilling to even separate to roll to the side. Sticky again, you don't mind in the slightest. It'll be uncomfortably hot soon enough, but that was alright.

He says nothing as he gazes deeply into your face, memorizing every little line and each and every twitch of your mouth and eyes and nose.

And you lay like that for a long time, eventually falling asleep beside one another. You're alive. He's alive. And you're both safe, hearts beating with so much love for one another.