#I'm still just sitting here with the idea that scar is the only one we don't see die after winning

[redwinterroses]

headcanon that Scar is the only one we don't see die after winning a Life series because time is a loop and he moved on alone in the world, which then became the start of his The Crafting Dead series.

[uncannydevotion]

“ we haven't found one lipstick that's kiss proof! ”

a/n: based on tht one art meme going around iykyk anyways happy holidays, and merry christmas if u celebrate! nd happy day to everyone else! enjoy this lil gift <3 i wanted to get it out today so it might b a little rushed, and definitely shorter than i would like but i still like it so. i'm posting it.

includes: homicidal liu, eyeless jack, jason the toymaker, nina the killer, and jeff the killer.

warnings: gn!reader but it's assumed u wear lipstick, italics my beloved, so much fluff it'll make u sick, lots of kissing. is kiss even a word anymore. it's short, with varying different lengths, and it's sweet this time for real i promise.

HOMICIDAL LIU

Perhaps a bit confused when you ask him to help find some kiss proof lipsticks, but nonetheless willing to help. He just assumes you wanted to go out to a cosmetic store or something to find some.

He's very confused when you drag him over to the couch and tell him to stay put while you gather every tube of lipstick you have.

He's oblivious guys okay you're his first relationship ever how is he supposed to know you're about to smother him to death with kisses?

Liu will be a bit caught off guard when you place the first kiss on his cheek, your lips gentle, mindful of the sensitive skin surrounding his scars.

"What was that for?" He'll ask. And maybe you'll give a cheeky smile and respond with something like, "I'm just testing out my lipstick, babe."

And oh. Oh. That's what you meant when you said you wanted his help.

Liu is nothing if not the greatest boyfriend haver, so even though he gets increasingly more flustered with each kiss you press against his skin, he stays painfully still so as to not interrupt you.

Every time you pressed a kiss against his skin, he'd let out a little sigh. It was rare for him to ever really feel at ease, but it came easy with you.

Sometimes, he wonders if you truly understood the gravity of the love he felt for you.

Each kiss makes his heart race faster and faster, so much so that when you place one last kiss against his lips, he's so overwhelmed by the amount of love he holds for you that Sully thinks he's fucking dying and takes over.

Sully is very confused when he finds that Liu was, in fact, not dying. And you're certainly no help, just smiling and telling him to wash his face off as you clean up.

What.

One look in the mirror gives him the answer he was looking for. His entire face was covered in lipstick stains. This is what had Liu's heart racing so much? Sully really thought he was dying, man.

Turns out the guy is just an idiot in love.

EYELESS JACK

One of the only ones here to really understand what you meant when you asked him for help in finding a kiss proof lipstick, already taking his mask off.

He didn't have anything better to do, and he liked how your eyes lit up when he agreed, so.

He'll sit patiently, watching as you set out all of your lipsticks, setting them out in a color-coded pattern.

Jack will take this very seriously, I think. You won't really be able to get him flustered, because he's determined to figure out if you have any kiss proof lipstick. He's a man on a mission.

Every time you kiss him, he'll pull away from you and look at himself in a mirror to study how visible the stain is. The less he can see it, the better he thinks the lipstick is.

If anything, he'll end up flustering you from the way he'll grab your cheeks and press his thumb against your lip, rubbing the lipstick gently to see how much pressure it takes for it to transfer.

He's not doing this on purpose, he just... doesn't realize the effect he has on you. But between you and me, he's 100% teasing you.

He's the one covered in kisses, and yet you're the one shying away from him and getting all embarrassed. Seems your plan to fluster him backfired.

"You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?" You would ask.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. You're the one who asked for help." Would be his response.

Somehow you end up with more marks on your skin than he does?? Since you get to kiss him a bunch, he doesn't see why he can't kiss you back. And maybe he bites a lil, idk.

This will either end with you scurrying away, or with him pouncing you and abandoning the lipstick. Make your choice.

JASON THE TOYMAKER

He's busy tinkering with a new creation when you enter his workshop carrying every single lipstick you own.

He's too focused on his own work to really pay attention to you, so he just mutters a vague 'yeah' when he hears you ask a question, not really catching anything you said.

Jason's only vaguely aware that you're in the same room as him as he leans forward, brows pinched together as he focuses on stitching up a small stuffed animal.

It's not until he feels you resting your hand on his shoulder, pulling him back slightly and pressing a kiss against his cheek that he's brought to reality.

Just sits there, confused for the longest second, his hand coming up to his cheek where he had felt your lips. He's not against the sudden affection by any means, he's just a bit curious as to why you were suddenly giving him so many kisses.

When you explain how you're trying to find kiss proof lipstick, he lets out a small 'oh' and he goes back to his work.

Or, at least, he tries to get back to his work.

But you continue placing little kisses against his skin every few minutes, and it's making it really hard to focus, and he can feel his face getting hotter and hotter the longer this goes on.

Jason fucking loves you, okay? He tells you it multiple times a day. You are the one for him. So you smothering him with a bunch of kisses has him feeling all soft and gooey inside.

Whatever the hell he was working on before was no longer important to him, his gaze now seemingly glued to you and every little move you make as he leans back in his chair, basking in your attention.

Like hell he'll let you leave when you run out of lipstick.

You doomed yourself the moment you walked into his workshop to even start this little game.

He'll be dragging you down onto his lap and will refuse to let you go until he's had his fill of you. Which could be like... all day. Jason could never get tired of you.

NINA THE KILLER

Hell yeah!! She's been meaning to go through her lipsticks too, so she takes this as an opportunity to do that.

She definitely makes it into a game as well, I think.

You two will trade lipsticks without looking at the labels, and you'd both have to guess who was wearing what lipstick based on the shade and the feel.

The two of you trade kisses, lipstick stains covering her cheeks and your jaw and neck.

She really did just want to find a kiss proof lipstick, but each kiss had her letting out a small giggle.

And she knew you were teasing her, always leaning in for her lips before dodging and pressing another kiss against her cheek.

All that teasing had her feeling flustered, and she just wanted you to stop messing around and kiss her lips already. So when you put on a new thing of lipstick, she doesn't even give you a chance to do anything before she's pulling you closer and slamming her lips against yours.

You probably planned for this to happen, she thinks, but she didn't really care much.

You don't need an excuse to kiss her silly, you just gotta do it.

And when the two of you finally break the kiss, you're both breathless. Lipstick stains your skin, and both of your lips were smeared.

Nina didn't even care about the little game you two had been playing anymore, her hands resting on your cheeks.

She thought you looked stunning like this.

And it's not like you two had any pressing matters to attend to, so she didn't hesitate before leaning in for another kiss.

JEFF THE KILLER

When you had asked him for help with finding a 'kiss proof' lipstick, he honestly didn't understand why. Like... did you want him to put the lipstick on and kiss napkins with you? And why would you need his help doing that anyways?

He would've said no, if you hadn't asked really nicely.

Definitely grumbling about how dumb he thought this was as you get everything together.

Someone would probably assume you had a gun to his head or something from the way he looked as if he didn't want to be there, arms crossed and somehow frowning even though his scars made it look strange.

It really isn't until you place the first kiss against his cheek that he finally shuts up.

Oh. So this is what you had planned?

Truth be told, Jeff wasn't that big a fan of affection unless he was initiating it, but... he supposes he could let it slide, just this once. Especially after you press another kiss to his cheek.

You could never get this man to admit that he's enjoying this, but it's not like he was doing a good job at hiding it, either.

The frown he had was gone, replaced by a smile he was barely able to conceal. Do not point out the smile, he will leave the room if you do.

Each kiss you give him makes his heart race faster and faster, and when you're wiping off the last lipstick you have, talking about how you've yet to find a kiss proof one, Jeff is an utter mess.

He's got his face buried in his hands, cursing to himself for being so weak when it came to you.

Fuck, he really loves you.

[fyodior]

⌕ pairing: nobara x afab reader (no gendered terms used)

⌕ warnings: aged up characters, scissoring, fingering, established relationship, both have pubic hair, a silly goofy couple trying out scissoring for the first time

⌕ word count: 1.65k

⌕ notes: this is my submission for the @ficsforgaza kinktober initiative!! i had so much fun with this piece! i'm new to writing both scissoring and nobara, so please be kind :")

check out my own kinktober here, and the FFG kinktober masterlist here!

“Nobara, I… I’m nervous,” you frown, looking down at your lap to avoid your girlfriend’s concerned gaze.

The irony of your anxiety was not lost on you, considering the fact that you had proposed this idea. Six months into dating the sweetest girl you’ve ever known, not only had you never felt more loved and cherished in your life, but the sex was amazing. It’s only possible that your girlfriend was sent straight from the gods as a blessing to you with how talented she was in the bedroom. Every time she fingered you, ate you out, or fucked you with your strap, you couldn’t help but wonder what you had done so right in your life to deserve a girl like her.

But there was one thing that you had been wanting to try – it had been heavy on your mind the past few weeks, and the last few times you had had sex, but you were always too afraid to bring it up. Until finally, when the two of you were scrolling through porn together, did you point out a video of it.

“Can we… try that?” you had asked sheepishly, scared of Nobara’s reaction.

“What, scissoring?” she had giggled, clicking on the video to watch the two women go at it.

“Don’t laugh at me!” Hiding your face in your hands, you turned away so she couldn’t see the humiliated look on your face.

“Baby, c’mon,” she frowned. “Look at me.” Tugging you towards her, she pulled your hands away from your face. “Of course we can try it. In fact, I’m a little curious about it too.” Nobara shrugged and giggled.

Tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, she looked deep in your eyes. “Never feel like you can’t tell me what you want, okay?”

Cheeks burning with both embarrassment and adoration, you could only nod and lean into her embrace.

That’s what led you two to where you were now, sitting cross legged on the bed as the promise of sex lingered above you.

“Don’t be nervous,” she assures, gently gripping your chin to make you look at her. “We surely don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I promise I’ll do my best to make this great.”

There she goes again, being the perfect, angelic girlfriend she always was.

You just nod, finally meeting her eyes. Despite the thick, jagged scar that marred the left half of her face, you never felt like she was anything but the most beautiful girl in the world. No “deformity” or difference could change that.

“Let’s do it.”

The smile she gives you immediately reassures you you’re doing the right thing, unable to keep your lips from curling up at the edges too.

“Gotta get you wet first, right?” Nobara smirks. “Lay down, baby.”

Gently pushing you down against the bed, she hovers over you, face looming over yours, giving you one last knowing glance before you nod back. Still retaining her gentleness, she presses a soft kiss to your lips, keeping it light at first. It’s you who deepens it, cupping her cheek before coaxing her to open her mouth so you can slip your tongue in.

Kissing had never felt special to you in the past – it had only ever felt like a means to an end, or a necessary greeting, but that all changed when you met Nobara. All you could ever think about always was getting your lips on your girlfriend.

Her lips don’t leave yours as her hand slowly travels down your body, brushing her fingers delicately against your exposed stomach before slipping inside your underwear. A smirk paints her face when the tip of her finger presses against your hole.

“Wet already?” Nobara teases, teasing your already slicked sex with her ring finger.

“Shut up.” Your pout had her giggling again before kissing it away.

“Makes me happy knowing I turn you on so much, even without doing a thing.”

Her words go straight to your pussy, making you gulp as you felt your arousal increase tenfold.

Trailing her fingers upwards back towards what she really wants to focus on, Nobara swirls soft circles against your needy clit, basking in the way you already let out a tiny moan. This only encourages the woman, rubbing figure eights with increasing pressure around the ultra-sensitive spot.

The touch felt divine – no one’s touch had ever compared to Nobara’s, not with how gentle yet brazen she was, not afraid to make you feel good.

Despite the pleasure already seeping into your veins, you’re getting impatient.

“Please hurry,” you whine, wiggling underneath her.

“Okay, okay,” Nobara concedes with a chuckle. She had no problem with this, considering the anticipation and fingering already had her wet too. “Let’s get to the main event, I guess.”

The time had come, both of you shedding the rest of your clothes, but now the two of you had to figure out the best position, considering it was new to you both. It took some finagling, with awkward laughs and messy limbs, but you finally settled on a configuration that felt okay. With you still on your back, you had one leg lifted towards your chest so that Nobara could rest in between them, able to line up your pussies.

“You ready, baby?” she prompts, pressing another kiss to your lips when you nod.

Though the both of you were definitely wet, Nobara squirts some lube on her pussy just to smoothen the process. But now it was time.

Scooting closer, your girlfriend lined up your cunts together, smiling as your pussy lips kissed. She was gentle at first, bumping her slick folds against yours, your pubic hair meshing with yours, but she could only maintain that patience for so long.

The pressure against your pussy increased as she leaned in further, gasping and whining. It’s like your pussies were made for each other, made to slot against each other in such a lewd yet wonderful way.

You were getting impatient though. “Move, please,” you whined, already thrusting up against her from where you lay on the bed. Nobara just giggles before conceding.

It takes her a second to build up a rhythm. A hand grips your raised leg to stabilize herself as she begins to rock her pelvis, both increasing the pressure and movement. And fuck it felt good, better than you imagined it would. Throaty moans escaped you and she gasps as your needy clit catches against hers. The pleasure that came from your most sensitive spots rubbing against each other sent shockwaves through your body.

“More, harder.” Your ability to ask nicely had all but faded away.

Nobara does as you request, humping against your pussy with increasing fervor. It was truly electrifying, this new sensation, your slick cunts slotting and mushing together with every thrust. Squelches and moist noises wafted through the air with the movements, proof of your arousal.

“Feels so damn good,” Nobara groans. “You feel so damn good.”

Her flattery travels directly south, encouraging you to hump against her harder. Using your forearms as leverage, you used your strength to rock your hips harder against hers. The mixture of both your movements was heavenly. You work in tandem to rut into each other, groans, moans, and whines from the both of you filling the room as you dive deep into the act. It’s messy, wet, and slightly uncoordinated with both of you being unexperienced, but the gratification is only increasing.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whine. Your head is clouded with pleasure and the only noises you can get out are moans and curses. “Nob-Nobara, baby.”

“Right here, love,” she smiles as she pants.

It was tiring moving your hips so fervently to rub your sopping cunts together, especially with your position underneath her, but it truly was heavenly. It was so lewd, felt so dirty to do such an act, and yet you bask in the pleasure. The pleasure of lips to lips, clits to clits, rubbing together to electrify each other and further ignite the arousal that bloomed inside of you.

Soon, a familiar feeling swirls in your lower belly, the pleasure of humping your girlfriend’s pussy hurtling you closer to a heavy orgasm.

“Fuck, gonna come,” you gasp.

This only encourages Nobara, pushing your leg further towards your chest to get a better angle for her to rut against you, pulling throaty moans from each of your mouths. Your clit pulsed and throbbed, becoming more and more sensitive with every thrust, and it’s not long before you’re pushed over the edge.

“Shit, fuck- ahh!” you cried out, keening and head falling against the pillows as your orgasm washes over you, electricity coursing through your veins as you come hard. This newfound position had pulled a unique high from you, and you bask in it.

Nobara, turned impossibly more on by your reaction, was not far behind you. You hissed with oversensitivity as she humped even harder against you, angling her hips to get the best pressure against her throbbing clit. You tried not to pull away despite your own oversensitive clit, wanting your girlfriend to come as hard as you. And it’s not long before she is, moaning your name and a string of expletives as her own orgasm hits her like a damn truck.

Breathy pants come from the both of you, Nobara quickly falling against the bed in exhaustion - both from the overwhelming high, and the burnout from the physical strain.

“How have we never done that before?” she giggles, gathering you in her arms, before peppering sweet kisses all over your sweaty face. “Felt so damn good, like nothing else.”

You just chuckle too, shaking your head and wrapping your arms around your beloved girlfriend. “Dunno, but we gotta try again soon – with me on top this time.”

Nobara’s wide smirk is nothing short of both adorable and arousing.

[miioouu]

Ghost's tattoos

This was supposed to be a sweet, wholesome little idea, but like…it’s me, what else did we expect? Also, I’m trying to fight my months long writer’s block so I'm sorry if this sucks, let me get some practice in before I tackle the Mean dbf ghost series.

Warning: suggestive, genre of reader not mentioned, lowkey condescending

Wc: 963

Everyone around the base has had a glance of the Lieutenant’s tattooed sleeve. He usually prefers to keep it covered, although most of his tattoos don't have a deep meaning behind them, or at least that’s what he says; it still felt too personal, too vulnerable to show around.

But you, you were the only person who had seen it all. Not just the tattoos, but the scars, the wounds, the scratches that all decorated his arms; and no matter how many hours you spent tracing every line on his body, you could never get enough of it, it's just so fascinating.

So surely it's no surprise to either of you (or anyone, it's not like you kept your relationship hidden), when some sergeant loses you, only to find you in Simon's office, sitting by his side as he signs whatever paperworks that have occupied his whole attention for the past couple of hours, your eyes trained on his hand, watching as the veins twist, disappear and appear again with each movement, tracing up to his wrist, a little up to the sliver of skin showing; a beauty mark here, a small raised white line of a scar there, dark ink…everywhere. The beginning of a skull tattoo peeking out his sleeve, some roman numbers that you never bothered to question its symbolism, knowing he'll say something along the lines of ‘nothing important’ or ‘don't worry about it, sweets’. You two were close, yes, but Simon and his secrets were closer, he loves to keep his privacy, his walls built strong and high, and although you managed to slither through some bricks, it wasn’t enough.

But you’re not one to dwell on this, not when people leave you alone with him, not when he groans as he stretches; his fitted black tee lifting up and exposing a glimpse of his happy trail. Your eyes would’ve strayed further south, remembering what he has hidden under those army pants, if it weren’t for his fingers grabbing your chin, making you hold his gaze for a moment before he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, sweetheart?”

Simon was sweet to you, always, no matter what, and you loved that, you really did, but not when you’re so obviously desperate for him. Not when your thighs are rubbing together, not when your lashes are batting at him, not when you’re pouting, too frustrated to word your needs out. And he knows it. He knows you don’t want him to dote on you right now; it’s all his fault, he assumes, not having given you the attention you deserve lately.

So he did what he always does, what he knows will get the tender smile back on your face; he leaned back against his chair, it squeaked under his weight, he spread his legs, enough for you to sink to your knees between them. His thumb brushed against your bottom lip, feeling the slightly chapped skin under his finger, chuckling “Sweets, you need to stop biting those precious lips of yours, hmm?” but he doesn’t mean it, of course he doesn’t. There’s nothing hotter in his mind than your pearly whites digging in your pinkish plumpness, especially when you’re looking up at him with those fake innocent eyes, like you were doing right now.

His thumb pushed past your lips, feeling the edges of your front teeth before rubbing against the tip of your tongue. The action itself was lewd, but something about Simon’s softness made it so much more wholesome; like a kiss to the cheek, like the rubbing of noses against each other, like a caress of a hand against an arm… How does a man so big, so full of violence and tragedies be so…kind?

And you need to appreciate him, right? That’s the right thing to do; wrap your lips around his digit, your eyes fluttering shut at the taste of his skin, and you suck, softly, sweetly, as if you’re savouring the last bite of your favourite dessert; the only difference is that Simon would never deprive you have him. You pull out slowly, a pop echoing in the room, his finger glistening under the white light of his office, but you’re not done coating him with your spit, far from it. Your tongue darts out, licking a strip all the way to his wrist only to later on, then press kisses to his palm and then back up. Your eyes zero on the black ink; a thick line that slowly thins out as it curves, depicting a skull, you follow it with your hot muscle, retracing every line etched on his flesh, and you feel him stiffen under your touch, his breath hitching and he mumbles out a curse “Bloody hell, sweetheart… you’re being so good.” This man has the audacity to smile, a warm one that has your heart skip a beat, that has the knot in your stomach tighten even more, and it makes you want to slap it off his face; why is he acting like an angel when you feel your blood hotter than the flames of hell?!

You scoff, pulling away, and you know you should ask permission before guiding your hands to his belt, but come on, he can’t expect you to be proper now. Although it's your fault for taking advantage of his kindness, in a swift motion he grabs your face, squeezing your cheeks together to stop you; he knows you, you’re predictable, he slips his fingers, two this time inside your mouth again “Ah, ah, lovie. I still got so many papers to read…be a good one and suck on my fingers for now, can’t let you distract me too much…”

[n0tamused]

dottore having to dispose of a faulty clone (maybe bc they were threatening reader) and then handfeeding reader parts of it like cannibalism as a metaphor for love…. do we see the vision or is this a little too 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 💔💔

A/n: pookie you're all good, thank you for feeding my brain worms with this idea I'm sending you smooches. I do hope I executed this well. I had a lot in my head that I wanted to write for this but I didn't want this to turn into a word scramble so here's this. Enjoy <3

Content: Dottore x GN reader, dark content(?), a bit yandere, implied unhealthy relationship, implied cannibalism, cannibalism as a metaphor for love, idk what else to tag as I never posted something like this so if anything else needs tagging feel free to lemme know

Words: 735

Several candles lined the polished oak table, its surface smooth and almost sticky, the light rippling over the dark lines of the carvings on top like little light bugs chasing one another. The golden hues danced over the plates as well, but the dim light scarcely allowed for a good look at the dishes.

The fork extending forward to your lips was the only thing that held your attention long enough to be observed, taken in fully, lips closing around the bit of meat and vegetables. The juice and oil fills your mouth, sinking past your teeth and around your gums, the taste is rich yet stale all at once. You couldn’t comment on it, you didn't know what to say about it. Not with the Doctor sitting at your side and being the one to feed you so, so gently.

It's hard to remember when was the last time he looked so gentle, kind even, perhaps when he was lighting up the candles with such care, as if his own breath would blow the flames into a blaze, allowing you to see your plate in full.

The meat was well done, seasoned to your liking, and something told you it was Dottore’s own hand who prepared it, gave it his all to make it so perfect for consumption. Parts of him were laced through every sensation, every smell and every bite. Your own plate is set before him and he's cutting all your bites, spearing pieces of meat and salad onto the fork before feeding it to you, making sure you ate well.

The dull ache in your arms is brought back into memory as you languidly chew on a bite, and your fingers absentmindedly touch over your sleeves over where the bruises lay, feeling the ache grow.

“Do they still hurt you?” His voice called out amidst smoky smells and brown fog, calling you to the present. “Have you gotten any rest at all, my dear?” He added, his head tilting in your direction, his bird-like mask not allowing you for a glimpse of his ruby eyes, but from underneath you can see glimpses of the scars peeking through, teasing your eyes. For some reason he chose to wear it here, now, only puzzling you further. 

“No.. no.. they're fine… I’ll get some rest later tonight, sir..” you reply as you swallow and watch how he grimaced at the title, and you nearly cough from how big this bite was, but you would have taken a bigger bite had Dottore allowed you to feast yourself. Perhaps not, but you told yourself you would. Be it the rich taste or some other factor, you yearned to take up each bone from the meat and lick it clean, sucking out the marrow from within and letting it melt into your guts.

Would he be satisfied then?

Would you be?

The candles flicker. He's still looking at you

“Are you still afraid? I've already told you so, and explained it many times. You have nothing to fear here. This was just an error in the system which will not ever happen again.. and you shouldn't have been around to witness it, anyhow..”. You have to wonder how he can say all this with so little fear. Then again, the clone was his creation. He knew it inside and out, every crevice and every wire.

“I understand.. it's just that.. I'd rather not face the others now..not after that..” 

Truth be told, having him around was also slightly unnerving, as he wore nearly an identical face as the one that harmed you. They were the same, but also not. He was gentle, but he was not.

The one that hurt you was long disposed of and would never harm you again, but Dottore was once the one that hurt you, and now he has poured himself out before you, all for your pleasure and the sweet poison of safety and love.

He hopes to convey it to you through each meticulously put bite, every sip he graces your lips with. He had cut himself open for you and would do so again, just as he hurt you through that error. It came as easy as drinking and breathing. 

“That’s understandable. I assure you are safe, and however dark the night may get - I'll be there with you… But for now, you must eat, not fear. Open wide..”

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[nickeverdeen]

She Can Try | Grown up!Powder x fem!reader

Pairings: Powder x reader (one-sided crush), Vi x reader (dead lover)

Type of fic: Angst

Warnings: Death, high expectations for Powder from Powder, inability to fully move on, jealousy, dead lover, one-sided love

Part 2: here

Part 3: here

Summary: After Vi died you tried to move on, but no matter how much you tried she still lingered there in the back of your mind, while Powder has been quietly suffering for 10 years of silently loving you.

Idea creator: @imlovewithpixels

Idea: “If nobody makes a fanfic where Reader wa Vi's sweetheart in the alternative timeline and Powder has a oneside crush on her for like 10 years. I'm gonna be forced to do it!

Just hear me out! Reader never move on, always looking for girls or boys that kinda remind them to Vi, and Powder is too scared to make a move, or even recognze her feelings of longing and jealosy. She would never fill the shadow of Vi. But she can try. I'm a sucker for angst, PLEASE”

Premission to use idea: Yes

———————

It had been ten years since the explosion, ten years since Vi was gone.

Powder still remembered the day like it was yesterday—the roar of the part of building breaking, the smell of hextech, the sound of your voice calling Vi’s name through the chaos. The way you had held onto hope long after everyone else had accepted the truth.

Even now, she could see the shadow of that grief in your eyes. It wasn’t as raw as it had been back then, but it lingered, like a scar that refused to fade. You had moved on in some ways—laughing, working, living—but there was always that part of you searching for her in the faces of others.

Powder wasn’t sure when her one-sided crush on you had started. Maybe it had always been there, buried beneath her admiration for you and Vi’s relationship. But after Vi was gone, and you stayed, Powder’s feelings began to grow into something she didn’t understand at first—something bittersweet and impossible.

She could never be Vi.

You would never look at her the way you had looked at her sister.

But still, Powder stayed close. She told herself it was because you were the only connection she had left to Vi, but deep down, she knew it was more than that.

One afternoon sun cast a golden glow over Zaun’s rooftops as you sat in the small workshop you and Powder shared. You were tinkering with a broken device—one of Powder’s gadgets that had malfunctioned during a test run.

“Did you ever figure out why this thing blew up?” you asked, holding it up to inspect the internal wiring.

Powder, sitting cross-legged on the floor nearby, looked up from her sketchpad. “Uh, yeah. I forgot to account for the power surge when the gears shifted.”

You grinned, shaking your head. “Classic Powder.”

She flushed, rubbing the back of her neck. “Hey, at least it didn’t take out half the table this time.”

“Progress,” you teased, setting the gadget aside.

Powder watched as you leaned back in your chair, a faint smile playing on your lips. You always seemed lighter when you were here, surrounded by tools and half-finished projects. It was one of the few places where you could relax, where the weight of the past didn’t seem to press down as heavily.

She wanted to tell you how much she admired you—how much she cared—but the words always got stuck in her throat. Instead, she just stayed close, hoping you would notice her in your own time.

Later that evening, the two of you made your way to one of Zaun’s quieter streets, heading toward a small food stall that Powder loved. The air was cool, and the neon lights from nearby buildings reflected off the damp pavement.

As you walked, you started talking about Vi again.

“She always hated it when I called her soft,” you said, a wistful smile on your face. “But she was. She just hid it under all that bravado.”

Powder nodded, her chest tightening. She hated how much you talked about Vi, not because she didn’t love her sister, but because every word reminded her of what she could never be to you.

“You were good together,” she said quietly, her voice barely audible over the hum of the city.

You glanced at her, surprised by the light distance in her tone. “We were.”

Powder hesitated, then asked the question she had been avoiding for years. “Do you… do you ever think about moving on?”

You stopped walking, your expression softening. “I’ve tried,” you admitted. “But every time I look at someone, it’s like… I’m searching for her. And that’s not fair to them. Or me.”

Powder looked away, guilt twisting in her stomach. She thought of all the times she had tried to be what you needed—stronger, braver, more like Vi. But no matter what she did, it was never enough.

She would always be a shadow.

That night, as you worked on another project in the workshop, Powder sat across from you, her heart aching.

“Hey,” she said suddenly, her voice shaky.

You looked up, startled by the urgency in her tone. “What’s up?”

“I just… I want you to know that I’m here. For whatever you need. Always.”

You smiled, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “I know, Powder. And I’m grateful for you. More than you realize.”

Powder held onto your hand a moment longer than necessary, her heart pounding. She wanted to tell you everything—to let you know how much you meant to her—but she couldn’t. Not yet.

Instead, she gave you a small, bittersweet smile and let go.

She could never fill the shadow of Vi.

But she could try.

[fraugwinska]

Hello beautiful! Not only I just discovered your writing and binds read your entire master list … could I request a part 2 from the eye of the storm?

Maybe something like where the reader is worried about Alastor at night and she goes to comfort him. He asks her to tell him a story while she lays beside him but as he falls asleep he ends cuddling? Tysm and please take all the time you need💕💕💕

Your wishes are my command - I strayed a little from your idea, but I hope you'll like it nonetheless! It's angst and fluff, and a little sweet at the end! And of course, it leaves room for a possible (Spicy) Part 3? ;> Who knows?

This is the second part of a Mini-Series. Part 1: The Eye of the Storm is right over here.

Two weeks had passed since the night Alastor's nightmare almost tore the hotel apart. Your wounds, caused by the sharp claws of the demonic form of Alastor, had healed pretty well and were barely noticeable anymore, thanks to dutiful tending of Charlie and Niffty, except for the scar on your hip, still pink and sore. You didn't mind, though. It was a physical memento of a sacrifice made for someone you deeply cared about.

In fact, you had a hard time forgetting that night, because every time you looked at the scar, the image of the Radio Demon, hunched and sobbing on his bed, flashed through your head, and you felt your heart clench. He hadn't spoken much to you since then. He hadn't spoken much to anyone in the hotel, really. You tried to approach him, but he always seemed to find an excuse to get out of a conversation, or leave the room you entered. When you asked him if he was alright, he laughed it off and waved his hand, telling you it was not worth worrying about. You knew him enough by now to know it wasn't true. You also knew him enough to know that if you tried to push him, he'd retreat further.

So, you just observed him from a distance, the way his smile looked tired when he thought no one was looking, the way his laugh seemed hollow, his eyes dim and exhausted. Sometimes you'd catch him blankly staring at the wall or ceiling or a painting on the wall for minutes, before snapping back and continuing whatever task he was supposed to do.

"I'm worried about him, too."

Charlie was sitting beside you on the lounge set in the foyer, both of you nursing a cup of hot cocoa, while Alastor was preparing dinner in the kitchen, humming some melancholic tune that traveled through the closed door. "But I don't know how to help him. He doesn't seem like he's interested in opening up to me or the others, or talk about what happened. It's as if he's just... shut off."

You sighed, sipping from the drink. "Yeah. He's been getting slimmer too, and always looks so... tired."

Charlie nodded, and you exchanged a glance. "Is there any chance that... maybe he would open up to you? You seemed to have a connection to him more than we were ever able to have with him. Maybe it's just wishful thinking, but I can't help but think he'd feel more comfortable around you."

"I tried, Charlie - he just... vanishes, before I can even finish a sentence... he avoids me. It's like he's running from me."

Charlie looked into the bottom of her mug, turning the now empty dish in her hands. "...Well, in times like this, we don't want the help. Especially if our pride is involved." she smiled warmly at you, her usual determination now back in her eyes. "But I know someone who would stop at nothing to help him."

Your footsteps sounded much louder in the silence of the night as you climbed the stairs up to Alastors suite. You glanced at the lights, remembering the green sheen and how the swirling shadows in the dimness had made your skin crawl. But the staircase was dipped in the usual golden light, nothing amiss, nothing scary. There was only a faint sound, almost like a static, hanging in the air. Alastors own wards and spell protecting his space, you were sure. Which left the possibility of him already knowing you were on your way. For a moment you hesitated - was it of use to go to him when he'd possibly already fled to evade you? A few nights ago you might've retreated. But after two weeks of watching your friend suffer, your determination prevailed, and you knocked, firmly and resolutely.

A second of silence. Then another one. You raised your hand to knock again when the door swung open - And Alastor stood before you, his grin in place, yet there was a sense of exhaustion seeping through his mask. He seemed taken off guard, obviously he wasn't expecting someone to come visit him late at night, so your prediction had been proven wrong. It was very rare to see the radio demon in anything else than his usual attire. But he was standing before you now, in a scandalously casual ensemble: A crimson robe over an open collared black pajama shirt showing some of his usually hidden, taupe fur, the silk tie loosely knotted at the waist, black matching trousers and without shoes.

"It's mighty late for a visit, dear." His voice held a sharpness and rough edge. But the tired, dull expression behind the grin was already crumbling when he gazed into your face.

"I wanted to see you. I'd noticed you weren't... doing so good after what happened."

He cast his glance everywhere but to you, avoiding your concerned stare. "I've told you before, your concern is absolutely unnecessary dear, I'm fi-" "Alastor, please." you interrupted, gently taking his wrist into your palm to halt his hand from waving his way out of the conversation. You looked at him, and he tried not to look at you, but slowly, oh so slowly, his gaze slipped back to your face, and his composure visibly started to crumble, his grip on his tactical expression slipping like sand through fingers. "I'm not here to judge you. Or to berate you. I'm worried."

He chuckled bitterly, closing the distance between you as his whole stance now seemed to curl. "Worrying is not necess-" "Probably." you shrugged, your hand sliding from his wrist to his cold fingers. "But friends worry, when they see the person they care about suffer." "Friends are a bother." his eyes flickered. "That's true. And yet they care."

He let his head bow forward, and suddenly he reminded you so much of that dark, trembling creature you found on his bed two weeks ago. You never thought the powerful Radio Demon would allow himself to appear like this in front of someone consciously. But maybe you weren't just someone... to him. The thought made your pulse flutter.

"I find myself unable..." Alastor started, his eyes staring at your intertwined hands. "...to find rest these days. I don't feel the need to sleep as frequently as your fellow residents, but... the incident, the dream, what happened - it seems it has rattled me more than I care to admit. What you did for me and what I did to you in return..." He chuckled, but it sounded much weaker, lacking his usually cheerful mockery as his free hand hovered over the side of your waist where the fresh scar sat under your clothes. "The thought of it being repeated feels unbearable."

"That's why I'm here." You squeezed his hand. "I've seen you at your worst and still came back, because I wanted to tell you that I'm neither weary nor scared. And that you don't have to bear this burden alone, Alastor. Please... let me help you."

The Radio Demon stood still, and for a moment you thought he'd retreat again, but then his shoulders relaxed, and the grin melted into a small, tired smile. His hand tightened on yours and he sighed. "Well then, come inside."

As you stepped into the familiar room, you noticed the difference immediately. The curtains were drawn, the lamps were on and the record player was playing quietly, a melancholic jazz piece filling the silence. Alastor had done his best to keep the memory of that night away by repairing the walls and furniture and replacing the shredded bedding and mattress of his bed with brand new ones. So new in fact, they looked like they were never touched.

"Please, take a seat." he gestured to one of the two wing chairs by his fireplace, now burning in warm oranges and scarlets rather than the eerie green you remembered, and as you settled down he joined you in the other opposite to you. The silence hung between you for a moment, neither of you really knowing what to say next. He was intently watching the flames dancing on the scorched wood, and you studied his profile, the soft, dark fur of his ears, his thin, elegant nose and the deep crease between his eyebrows. You had never seen him lower his guard this much. Well, that wasn't quite true - once, in this very room, although under much different circumstances. You could see his hand, resting on the arm of the chair, twitch as if it were fighting an impulse.

"It's funny, isn't it?" he started, his voice a bit too light. "I'm a powerful entity in hell, able to rip and tear and destroy. A feared, powerful, dangerous overlord. And yet I seem to be rendered helpless by my own mind. Laughable, really."

"I'm not laughing." you said quietly, and his head turned towards you, a raised eyebrow and a hint of amusement in his expression.

"Indeed you are not."

"And I think you are far from helpless." You continued, a small smile appearing on your face as you watched a little flame wind itself from a knothole, gaining volume and fizzing strongly. "I've never met a demon as strong-willed and determined as you, Alastor. I think the reason it has been affecting you so badly, is because you have power over everything else. But when it comes to the things happening inside your own head - when you are asleep - you aren't in control, and that can be terrifying."

His gaze was fixed on your face, the crimson of his irises shimmering and flickering. He looked... intrigued. And, something else. Something softer, that made your heartbeat a little faster.

"You are... a fascinating thing." he hummed, and his fingers started to drum on the armrest, his other hand fidgeting, still fighting that strange, hidden urge. "You seem to... calm me. With your mere presence, it feels... soothing. The thoughts of that night don't vanish, but they lose their grip. Like the tempest in me is being tamed." "Is that a bad thing?" you asked, a bit puzzled, and a bit amused.

"Yes and No." He answered, quickly and without hesitation. "I don't depend on others. It's unreliable. Too many factors are involved, and when you care about someone, it means you leave them with the ability to hurt you." His hand was tapping faster. "That sounds like a lonely existence." "Loneliness is the most reliable thing of them all. But..." he sighs and follows your gaze back to his fireplace. The small flame grew into a strong blaze, swishing and crackling loudly now. "...It is also the most draining. And I have to admit that I'm thoroughly exhausted, dearest."

"I'll stay with you tonight." You whispered, leaning forward and reaching out to take his restless hand. The motion surprised him, his eyes snapping back to you. "If you want to." He stared at your hand on his, the fire reflecting on his ruby eyes, and slowly, the twitching and drumming subsided, and his fingers curled around yours, a small squeeze.

"I believe I'd be glad for the company." he uttered.

For the next half an hour or so, you sat with Alastor in comfortable silence, both of your eyes on the flames and hands still intertwined as the jazz faded into blues, slow, melancholic and calm until the fire died down. Sometimes, his thumb drew little circles on the side of your hand, and you took it as an encouragement. His face was back to its tired state, though he didn't seem quite as guarded and withdrawn anymore. When there was nothing more than faintly glowing logs in the ember bed, you shifted your weight and gave his hand a careful tug. "Do you think it's time?"

He swallowed audibly and his eyes closed. "I suppose so." he smiled tightly, rising and pulling you up with him, and you both walked over to his gigantic bed, draped with fresh crimson sheets and matching duvets, untouched, spotless, pristine. He stopped before the side of the bed and for a few moments - he stared down, his grip on your hand almost painfully tight now. You tilted your head, giving him a reassuring smile.

"If you're uncomfortable about sharing the bed I can pull over one of the chairs, I don't mind..."

"Absolutely not." he turned his head, and you could see how flustered his expression was now. "Ah - I mean... no, dear, that's alright."

You left his side and rounded the bed, lifting the duvet without looking at him as you shuffled out of your slippers. If you were honest, you felt just as awkward as Alastor looked, not to mention nervous and anxious and a lot of other complicated things. But you'd be damned to show that now, and risk him retreating. So you settled in, slipping your legs under the heavy covers. They felt just as comfortable as they looked.

You noticed him hesitating on his side of the bed, unmoving, his hands halted at the knot of his robe. You adamantly looked away from him, overly interested in the obscure knick-knacks that were scattered in the cupboards on the opposite wall - it was clear he was struggling to shed his clothes in front of you, even if it was only an overcoat. You heard an airy, quiet chuckle and fabric rustling, felt the duvet lifting again and then a weight dipped the mattress next to you. You could feel Alastor shifting and settling, could hear the shallow, anxious breaths and were aware that his eyes were burning on the side of your head, and you realized that he, too, was doing a valiant job at keeping his composure. You leaned back into the pillows, then he snapped his fingers and there was silence. And darkness.

At the lack of light in your vision, your senses heightened and you took everything in much more intently. His body heat close, his breathing next to you, his faint scent of smoke and herbs surrounding you. How small the space between your bodies was, the last remaining inch a gaping ravine in your mind. The mattress dipped as his body turned, facing yours and now his eyes were right there, glimmering and deep red in the pitch black darkness, following your every movement as you shifted too. You felt your heart hammering loudly and you could almost hear the blood rushing through your body. And you knew Alastor could hear that. Hear your quickened breathing. Feel the warmth of you just as you felt his.

There was a tense, terrifying moment, stretched endlessly until your eyelids fluttered shut - you heard, as much as you felt, the bed dipping under his shifting body weight, and suddenly, the ravine was filled by him and he was all around you, pulling you in sort of a protective embrace as you were surrounded by his warmth. Your head fell against the base of his throat as he tucked your face into the crook of his neck, a shaky sigh leaving him as he wrapped his limbs around you. The sudden proximity caught you entirely off-guard - you knew Alastor had a deep aversion against close physical contact. The hand holding had been a huge success for you, a sign that his trust for you went beyond the ordinary. You had been fully prepared to honor a discreet distance between you and him as to not make him feel more uncomfortable, but to pull you so close like this, voluntarily at that, initiated by him, made you go rigid in nervousness at how to react to it. You could already feel him retreat, that awkwardness from before already flooding back between you as he felt your body stiffen.

"Aah... my apologies, dear, I didn't mean to get so..."

Your reaction was instant, almost instinctively, body already knowing what your mind still was figuring out. Your hands slid around his slender waist as you pulled yourself closer to him, since you believed actions spoke louder than words to soothe the conflict he was battling. One leg came to rest between his, you felt his hips brushing against yours, and your palm came to rest in between his shoulder blades and you buried your face into the warm fur of his throat, and all tension left him, as another, heavier, long-drawn sigh rumbled through him, and he curled his form back around your smaller frame.

"If I'll return to the dreams that caused such havoc..." he mumbled quietly, his tone unusually wavering. "Then I'll get you out again and help Niffty clean up the mess." "Silly girl, absolutely ridiculous." his breath tickled against your ear, but he sounded lighter already. More like his usual self.

His leg entangled between yours, the limb as muscular as his chest and shoulders had always hinted at. His hand was tracing shapes and unknown symbols onto your back, and you wondered if it was a form of spellcasting to keep you safe while sleeping. But whether it was, or just unconscious movements, the gesture alone was making your heart flutter. The fact that it was his very real, very physical, very touchable chest and hands that were pressed onto your barely clothed skin, providing the soft massaging, and the warm, comforting sensation of his body heat against your own - it was exhilarating and overwhelmingly, absurdly, beautifully intimate.

Friends.

You wondered if that word could describe you and the radio demon. There was something... so much more, at least in your head. So much deeper. He meant something different to you than the others, Vaggie, Charlie - something special. A deep emotional pull, an urge to always seek and - absurdly, knowing he was who he was - to protect, the need to understand. To care and to comfort and to feel his presence at your side. An inevitable, chaotic and maybe even borderline obsessive attraction you couldn't and didn't want to escape. It had already become evident to you, especially in these past two weeks, that you felt something deeper for the demon everyone in the hotel was so wary about. He was special to you, yes, an anchor in a world that could throw any horrible thing at you at any given time, a world that wasn't trustworthy nor consistent. But in a weird twist of fate, he was. To you, he was calmness, security, trust, consistency... happiness.

"...Alastor?" You murmured quietly into the darkness, feeling his cheek come to a rest on the side of your head.

"Yes?" he breathed back, voice laced with drowsiness. His hand kept its rhythmic circling motions on your back, and you realized there was a good chance for you both to drift into a blissfully undisturbed slumber like this, which would make waking up in each other's arms so much easier than the alternative.

"I... You're..." But as soon as you wanted to tell him, to say it out loud, words eluded you. Every sound, every combination of syllables suddenly seemed wrong, sounded stupid, like a horrendous mistake. Your heartbeat quickened and you felt a lump in your throat, your feeble courage battling with your cowardice as the idea of giving this whole idea up, putting those dangerous feelings aside and trying to suppress and pretend they never existed for the sake of preserving your one true friendship, fought back with everything it could muster.

It was such a terrifying leap. And wouldn't it be selfish? To burden him with your feelings, to most likely ruin the bond you had with him right now, which made both your lives better with a companionship so rare. Such an utterly idiotic, thoughtless move.

"Darling..."

You could feel a finger push your chin up and his lips were suddenly a hair's breadth from your own, his nose brushing yours and his warm breath ghosted over your skin. How easy would it be to close the gap now, fill that tiny remainder of space with your mouth and he would finally know what you were about to say. The mere thought made your stomach tingle and your breath tremble, you were aching for any form of confirmation that it would be okay, okay to have feelings for him. You'd accept anything he'd give you, even if it wasn't everything you yearned for - you'd take anything he was ready to offer.

"... isn't your principle that actions speak louder than words?"

A blink in the darkness. A gasp into the silence. And then he was finally closing the space between your faces.

Lips - soft and pliable, moving against yours. Tender, soft, firm pressure. A kiss that said everything words would never manage to convey. Your fingers clawed into the silky fabric of his shirt, your nose pressed against his jaw, tears brimming and stinging behind your eyes as you sighed deeply, relief crashing over you and bliss taking hold. It could've lasted for eternity and still would've ended too soon as he gently pulled away, leaving one more short, lingering touch to the corner of your lips.

"Now let's rest. We shall continue this discussion in the morning." he murmured tiredly as his hand resumed its massaging, this time brushing underneath the hem of your shirt as he settled back into his initial embrace. You laid in his arms for minutes with your heart still racing, but now you could hear and feel his too, drumming in his chest. Two rhythms, beating in wonderful, chaotic harmony.

"Sweet dreams." you managed to whisper, sleepily and content as his breathing flattened, his static quieted and his hands came to rest unmoving at the curve of your back.

And with a long, final sigh, the Radio Demon drifted into deep, calm, undisturbed sleep.

[mytheoristavenue]

MHA Mezo Shoji x Reader - Make Believe - VII

Summary: You ask Shoji to pretend to be your boyfriend for a dinner with your parents.

Warnings: mutual pining, fake dating trope, only one bed trope, nsfw, virgin!reader, virgin!Shoji, use of his quirk, mentions of scars, size difference, mentions of oral (fem receiving), heavy petting, angst, fluff

The night hours began to tick by as tried to wind down, doom scrolling on your phone. Every so often, your eyes would flick to the floor to the left of your bed- or more specifically, Shoji, still naked from the waist up, save for his mask. He laid on his back, having laid out his towel to rest on, also on his phone. You couldn't help but steal glances at his bare form, though it made you feel incredibly perverted. Your breath would hitch nearly every time he shifted, thinking he'd caught you for sure this time. He stayed none the wiser.

"Think I'll probably get some rest soon," he eventually said sitting up and stretching his muscles, twisting and popping his back. "Got maybe a blanket and pillow I can borrow?"

"Shoji..." your eyes softened at him, but you turned your gaze away before your words could capture his attention. "I'm not actually gonna make you sleep on the floor..."

"It was my idea, you aren't making me do anything." He persisted. "It's fine, really."

"Let me rephrase," you sighed, crossing your arms stubbornly. "I'm not going to let you sleep on the floor." You flashed a momentary smile, before realizing he was staring back and you glanced back at the wall, patting the spot beside you as you scooted over. "Get up here."

"I'm seriously good, (Y/N)," Shoji insisted, shaking his head. "The floor's actually pretty comfortable," he lied. "And if you don't have bedding to spare, I'll survive."

"Shoji," you warned, shooting him a glare. "Don't make me say it again." Sighing and giving in, he picked himself up off the floor, dusting himself off and scooping up the towel before draping it over the footboard. Hesitantly, he sat on the bed, legs still dangling. "Get under the covers, you'll weigh them down if you sleep on top." You said, swallowing at the way his body heat tickled your skin. Bashfully, he did so, lifting up the quilt and shimmying under it.

"Now, I think we should set some ground rules," you continued, trying not to let the lamp light show your red cheeks. "No cuddling, no touching, we sleep back to back, got it?"

"Right," he agreed, nodding and swallowing hard. "It'd be weird if that happened, considering we're not really dating."

"Yeah," you replied halfheartedly, rolling over as he did the same. You couldn't help but blush at the sensation of his bare spine against your clothed one. For a moment, you wondered if he'd notice if you lifted your shirt to feel his skin on yours. You promptly shook the idea out of your head when you noticed him trembling, lying stick straight.

"Shoji, is everything alright?" you asked, concerned, rolling back over and propping yourself up on an elbow.

"Yeah," he answers sheepishly. "It's kinda embarrassing." He chuckled.

"Tell me," you pressed, laying a hand on his forearm to see over his hulking form.

"My left arms fell asleep." he laughed nervously. "I'm not really used to sleeping on my side, I can usually only get comfortable sleeping on my back with my arms stretched out." He explains awkwardly. "I'm sure it'll be fine, though. If I get too uncomfortable, I'll go back to laying on the floor."

You felt terrible, you were so focused on your own comfort, that you forgot to take into account his. Of course, he wouldn't be able to sleep with his back to you, having three arms to lay on. "I'm so sorry, Shoji! I didn't even consider how your quirk must make mundane things difficult for you!" you worried, pawwing at his arm as he sat up with you. "I didn't mean to be so selfish!"

He waved you off, sctraching the back of his head, while trying not to fluster at your touch. "It's really okay, I totally understand. I guess I'm just built different," he laughed. "Literally."

"Maybe we should cuddle..." you suggested almost silently, twiddling your thumbs and staring at your lap.

"Hmm?" he hummed questioningly, glancing over and tilting his head.

"I-If we cuddle," you continued bashfully. "You can lay on your back and stretch out your arms, and I can lay on one of them." You explained. "Otherwise I could sleep with my head near your feet but..."

"Yeah let's not do that," Shoji joked. "But if you wanna cuddle we can..."

"I-it doesn't count though, it's not real, remember?" You said, more to reassure yourself than him.

"Right," he nodded, laying back as you pulled the cover back up. Once he was fully stretched out, you began to get comfy, snuggling up to his side. His top arms rested behind his head, his middle right supported yours, and middle left rested on his stomach along with bottom middle. The last one- the bottom left, snaked around your waist as his eyes fluttered shut, pulling you a bit closer with hand resting on your hip. Shoji could feel you become rigid under his fingertips, eyes snapping open and removing his hand. "S-Sorry, I-"

"I-It's okay," you interupted. "You can put it back..." To your relief, his hand crept back up to where it was before.

"This okay...?" he asked reluctantly, thumb ghosting circles over your pajama bottoms. You hummed in response with a nod. "Good," he replied sleepily. "I want you to feel good." Your head darted up to look at him, face entirely red. "I-I didn't mean anything weird! I mean like comfortable! I-i wanted to make sure you were comfrotable!"

Secretly, Shoji did want to make you feel good. Though it'd kill him to admit it, he was head over heels for you and was a victim to every emotion that came with that. Even the ones that left him pawing at himself in the dead of night, your name in whispers on the air around him. It was true that he had fallen for your kindness, power, and reckless care for others, but your evey thought left static on his skin.

It didn't help matters that you did not possess a single phyhsical attribute that Shoji disliked. He'd never consider himself as having a type, but if he did, you'd be the spitting image of it, and ervery good look he got at you reduced him to jelly. That's what landed him in this mess in the first place, an hour from home in borrowed clothes with a harsh sentance of detnetion surely awaiting his return. All you had to do was flash him that sugary sweet smile and bat your lashes and he was doomed.

"This is nice..." your voice shattered his thoughts and his attention returned to the present. "I wnder if it'll feel this nice when get to do it for real with someone."

A part of him wanted to lie and tell you it wouldn't feel nice with anyoen but him, irritated at the thought of someone else holding you, but he knew it'd be wrong. In the end, he compromised. "It probably will," she said sheepishly. "But one of the best parts of my quirk if that I give good hugs so..."

"You do give the best hugs..." you confirimed, voice tired and threatening to drift off.

"You know, if you ever want more hugs form me..." he trailed, unsure what he even planned to say. "Just ask..."

"As much as I love your hugs, Sho," you yawned, too lazy to even finish the last syllable of his name. "Think we should maybe spend some time apart when we get back."

Your noncahalant attitude about suggesting the two of you take a break from one another made his blood run cold and he couldn't keep his composure. "W-Why? Why would you want that?"

Your gaze shifted up to him questioningly. You'd hardly ever seen Shoji had strong emotions about anything so it unnerved you that he'd been so on edge all night. "What's with you?" you asked, perhaps a bit more accusitorily than you had to."

"What's with me?" He said, taken aback and confinscating his grasp on your hip, though if it was meant to be some sort of punishment or not, he couldn't decide. "What's with you?"

"Me?" You retorted, sitting up fully, officially offended.

"Yeah, you." He sassed back, also sitting up, towering over you, even hunched. "What, you just wanna go home and not be friends anymore or something? You know, for a fake relationship, this kinda sounds like a break up."

"A break up?!" you shouted in a hushed tone, so as not to wake your parents. "Shoji, we're not together! I just meant that someone has already probably started a rumor about us being gone together, if we cool it on spending time together, it might go away quicker!"

Swallowing hard, realizing he gravely misunderstood your intention, but still hurt, Shoji swung his legs over the edge of the bed, back facing you. "I still don't understand why you think I'd want that..." he trailed quietly, demeanor suddenly even tamer than usual.

"You wouldn't wanna nip a rumor that we were dating in the bud?" You asked skeptically. "You know how our classmates are, Shoji. We'd never hear the end of it."

"Not if it weren't a rumor..." he half confessed, peaking over his shoulder at you before glancing away.

You were befuddled and terribly confused. "What do you mean by that?"

He man sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You drive me insane, you cannot possibly be this dense." His words cut you deeply, but you had no time to confront him as a pair of disembodied lips slithered over to you, doing the talking for his. "If you're embarrassed to be seen with me, you can just say that." He snapped, arms all crossed, save for the one that was tearing into you at the moment.

"S-Shoji, why would you think that?" you sstuttered out, tears welling in your eyes.

"Because at this point, you're the only one that this isn't real for. It's real to me, okay? "He sounded exhausted, voice hoarse anbd cracking with raw emotion. "You can't pretend not to know how I feel about you, it's so obvious."

You gulped, confused with heart racing. "Let's say for a moment that I don't..." you prod, hoping he'd shed light on things. An exhaserbated sigh came from him as he turned around to face you, dark and typically cold eyes glossy and over flowing with emotion.

"I'm obsessessed with you, (Y/N)." He stated, voice ragged like he'd run a marathon. "I'm head over heels for you and I always have been!"

"S-Shoji, I-" He didn't even give you a moment to respond, yanking his mask down in a fit of desperation, and crawling across the bed ot you, pressing his naked lips you yours at long last. You froze against him, rigid and unsure of what to do. Shoji had always been the special person you wanted to share your firsts with, but if you kissed him back this time, it would make it your first official kiss- was it the right time? The right place? Could you replay this moment forever in your head and feel fuzzy everytimne from it?

Reguardless, your body betrayed your rational thought, throat releasing a starved whimper as your lips smooshed against his with almost the same amount of need that he displayed. Eyes fluttering open, you were met with an unfirmiliar sight as you parted from him, panting. He did this same, catching his breath as he rested his forehead against yours, tension from hiding his feelings finally releasing with his exhale.

"I-I've never..." you began, stare glued to the bottom of his face. "I-I've never...seeen you without your mask before..." I admit quietly. Shoji's eyes blew wide as seperated from you the same way he had in the kitchen earlier, this time slapping a thick hand over his lips. He turned his back on you again, cursing himself for being so impulsive, all the while fumbling to stretch the fabric back over his chin.

Your hand found his forearm and you crawled closer hoping to comfort him. "I-I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me." he stressed, wrestling his mask back on. "Fucking thing..." he muttered angrily.

"M-Mezo..." You murmured, hoping the sound of his given name would catch his attention. Luckily for you, it did. He froze, still facing the wall for fear of being perceived by you.

"Y-Yeah...?"

"Let me see you..." you plead, trying to pry him towards you, hands on his biceps.

"I-I can't," he mumbled, shrinking into himself. "You'll think I'm a freak, I-"

"Mezo," you said again, more sternly this time. "Please? How am I supposed to kiss lips I've never seen?" The idea of you wanting to kiss him again seemed to spark hope in him, but it wasn't quite enough to fully chip away at his conviction.

"You'll never want to kiss me again if you saw what I looked like." He argued weakly, fingers grazing over his face.

"I'm willing to take that risk." you reassured only to be met with a swift:

"Well, I'm not."

Sighing, you stood up, creeping over to his side of the bed, standing in front of him, looking as if he were holding his face together in his hands. Gently, you took him by the wrists, prying the modesty away form his features. Hesitently, he let you, looking up at you as if he were a child trusting you to fix a beloved toy.

Once you had him unveiled, your heart skipped a beat and your breath hitched. His lips were wide, wider than that of a typical looking person, forming what you'd imagined would be the biggest, most dazling smile. Decorating his lips was a myriad of scars, though you couldn't possibly guess what could have cause them and you didn't intend on asking. You gingerly ran the pad of your thumb over a few, noting that they were deep and raised. Lastly, teeth, you noticed, were perfectly straight and ivory white and even though there was hardly a soul alive that had seen them, it was obvious that Shoji took great pride in his oral hygeine.

"Say something..." he begged and you watched his lips move, entraced in his appearance.

"Mezo..." There was his name again, sending chills down his spine with the airy way it fell out of your mouth. "You're so beautiful..." you said, unblinking, admiration not wavering in the slightest.

He had half a mind to come up with some smart alick remark, but he hadn't the time as he felt your lips brush across his, pressence ghostly and barely there. A part of him still longed for the comfort and modesty of his mask, but he was putty in your hands and he knew it, there was no way he was getting away from you so easily after everything he'd said.

"T-Thank you..." he choked out between kisses so delicate they could hardly be called such at all.

"I know nothing could ever make you feel confident in your looks after what you've endured that lead you to hide it but for what it's worth," You soothed, still standing between his legs cradling his head in your hands as he sat in front of you. "You really are just so pretty, Sho..."

It was as if that word made something inside him snap, jumping up, towering over you and pinning you to the wall opposite him. His lips instantly found yours in a needy kiss as his arms scooped you up. "C'mere," he muttered against your mouth as a second pair of lips brushed against your nape, lost in your hair as it peppered kisses on the back of your neck.

"M-Mezo..." you whimpered between hungry kisses, writhing in his grasp.

"This is all your fault..." he sighed against you, not letting go of your kiss for anything. "I told you, you drive me insane," You couldn't help but let your head fall to the side as you moaned, giving his second mouth more real estate on your throat. "Now I'm all riled up and I can't contain myself..."

You had never in a million years imagined the words he was blessing you with. Sure, you'd fantasized about him in a sexual way, but you never pegged him for the verbal type, yet here he was. He'd always somehow had a knack for making you blush but with the way he spoke to you, so deserate, yet stern at the same time made your knees weak as they buckled from beneath you.

"Careful there, baby," he cooed, catching you, reflexes sharper than ever. "Don't think I'm gonna go easy on you just because you can't stay standing." You didn't even have it in your to respond with proper words, simply groaning in his grasp. "What's the matter, baby?" He whispered, breath ragged against your face.

"M-Mezo..." you sighed, back threatening to slide down the wall if he weren't supporting you.

"I hear you," he grinned wickedly, pivoting backwards and laying you on the bed, looming over you. "Loud and clear." He studied your form, button up pajama shirt lifted up on your tummy, pink frilly duvet puffed around you. "Just let me take care of you, I've waited so damn long for this."

As soon as you nodded with permission, several pairs of disembodied lips descended upon you, sticking kisses to any exposed flesh they could find. One pair tickled your stomach with ghostly brushes, but never dared to ask for more real estate to work with. He wanted to give you the control, let you decide when and what you show him.

"Your skin's so soft," he murmured against it, though you were unsure where the voice had come from. "Can't wait to have it in my teeth."

His words flustered you infinitely further, nerves puppetting your arms up to sheild your face with your palms. "M-Mezo..." You whined again, unable to form little more than his name.

"I'm here," he replied, grounding you back into the moment as you zeroed in on where the words came from- his true mouth, above you, watching your writhe beneathe him. "Not going anywhere, I swear."

Your hands wiped down your face and sunk below your jawline, resting on your throat for a moment. You watched as he smirked, pearly teeth glistining in the moonlight that peeked through the window. "I'm afraid your gonna have to be patient if you want me to choke you," he teased, knowing well that that wasn't want was on your mind- well it was now, at least. "You'll get everything you want, I promise, just be patient for me, baby." He leaned back letting his lips press against your forehead.

"D-Don't patronize me..." you finally said, pouting as your fingers trailed beyond your collarbone and landed on the top button of your shirt.

"Oh, baby," he cooed, softening on his playfulness, realizing you were willing to share something special with him. "Do you wanna show me something?" You very timidly nodded before glancing to your right, embarrassed and having second thoughts already. That was until be began to dote on you, sealing your fate. "You're so generous, willing to share your body with me..." he sighed, lowering to his knees, still hovering over you, while scopping you up in his clamshell of an embrace. "I'll make sure to cherish it, however much or little you decide to give."

His words pulled on the strings of your desire, making you want to immediately strip fully, donating yourself to him, but you resisted. Trembling, your fingers worked your top button, spurred on by the gasp that escped his lips when the two sides of the attachment laid seperate against your sternum. One by one, they all came undone until your chest and stomach were one collumn of plush skin, framed by patterned cotton on either side. Your ribs heaved, rising and falling with anticipation for his reaction.

Shoji stared down at you with all the admiration of a devoted follower praying to a holy relic. He studied the way shadows and hightlights danced across your newly unvieled skin. "Say something..." you begged, just like he had earlier. "D-Don't just stare..."

"Theres nothing I could possibly say," he replied, making your heart sink, arms insticutally rising to protect your modesty. To your shock, your wrists were instantly pinned to either side of your head. "Don't hide from me, I wasn't finished." He warned softly, thumbs grazing over the veins that ran down your wrists. "Theres no words that could possibly begin to describe how you look right now but..." he paused, head dipping down to lay kisses on your ribs. "I'd die a happy man if I could spend the rest of my life staring at you until I could make some up."

You had never expected Shoji to be so elloquent. Everything he said or did made you feel like the only girl on the entire planet, you felt increadibly special here beneathe him. Your thoughts of his articulation, however, were shattered by the sensation of a long wet tongue slobbering a stripe from your belly button upwards, hooking under your right breast, tickling you in a terribly lewd manner. Your breath hitched and no amount of self control could have ever stifled the embarrasing moan that slipped into the air. "Me-Mezo!" You cried, overstimulated tears pricking your screwed shut eyes.

You could feel him chuckle against your skin as he sloppily made out with the crevice under your breast, teeth nashing against the curvature of it where most of the weight rested. To him, it was heaven or better, having your still partially obscured tit resting against his face, supple skin under his tongue. "Mezo..." you crooned, craning your neck upward, fruitlessly trying to find his gaze. "T-Touch them..." you granted permission, only to have him refuse your request, chuckling darkly.

"You gotta take it off for me if you want more than this," he teased, nuzzled into your ribcage. "I'm only workin' with what you give me, baby. Ball's in your court." With that, you promptly wiggled out of your shirt, tossing it in a direction you didnt care to look for, before laying back down, blushing at the way he ogled you as your breasts settled against your chest. "Shit..." his breath hitched as he stared hungrily at your nake torso.

"T-Touch me, please, Mezo?" you plead, batting your lashes up at him. His hands were on you in an instant- all of them. Fingers gripped your hips, carressed your ribs, kneaded your tits, touched you everywhere all at once. The delicious and foriegn stimuli overwhelmed your senses immediately, extracting strings of vulgarity from your vocal chords. Shoji revelled in your songs, eyes half lidded and full of desire as his digits tickled you in the best ways.

"Like that, pretty thing? Like my fuckin' hands all over you?" He smirked, drunk on the moment as his fists closed around any flesh they could find.

"Y-Yes, God, yes!" you cried, squirming under him, only to have him press a firm hand to your sternum to hold you still.

"Stop fucking moving," he commanded with an arroused and cracked laugh. "Let me look at you, baby." You froze at his words, desperate to do anything to get him to shower you in praise again. "Shit, so pretty..." he cooed, dipping down to trail kisses down your chest and tummy before two extra mouths appeared from the hands that girpped you moments ago. Before you had time to question, you gasped, back arched like a cat as you felt tongues and teeth enclose on your nipples simultateously.

"F-Fuck..!" you hissed, throwing your head back as tears bricked your eyes. "M-Mezo!"

"I know baby," he hushed, ghosting his lips over your gaped mouth, pressing a kiss to your bottom lip. "Shhhh, just relax, baby, let me suck on these pretty tits..." He soothed as your mind began to melt fromall the new feelings you were experiencing.

Your lip quivered as he continued to pepper it with kiss as he felt you up. For a moment, you elevted to suck it between your jaws, only to be stopped by Shoji. "Ah ah, better not..." he cooed, taking it into his teeth, nipping at it softly and pulling it towards him, chuckling darkly all the while.

The action sent chills down you spine and you began to wonder if he'd down this before. "M-Mezo...h-have..." you trail off, not only unsure if it was a question you wanted answered but also if you could form the words at all.

"Hmm?" He hummed in response, paying you hardly any mond as his kisses began to trail down your throat.

"H-Have you ever..." You began, only to be interupted.

"Never, you're my first, baby." He stated with reassuring firmness. "Never wanted anyone else, you should know better than that."

"I-I thought so..." you sighed, secretly relieved.

"That a problem, princess?" he murmured from the crook of your neck before draggin his tongue from your shoulder to your earlobe, which he nibbled when he reached it, pulling a sob from you.

"N-No!" you cried in an embarrasingly obsene manner. "Y-You just seem to know- ah!" You shuddered at his teeth on your ear. "J-Just what to do..."

"Thanks, baby," he smirked, hot breath in your ear as he spoke. "Unfortunately, I'm just a big pervert," he admitted in a low grumble, making you weak. "Read too much porn, ya know?"

"S-Shoji!" you shrieked, face heating infinitely further.

"What was that, princess?" he laughed, fingers crawling up to your throat as his fist closed around it increadibly gently. "Last name basis with my mouths on your tits? Cold..."

You thought you should pinch yourself. This had to be some sort of wet dream. You'd pinch yourself and wake up in your dorm, sweating with sticky thighs. None of this could be real. Your Shoji- a perv? A porn addict? No, it couldn't be possible. He was such a gentleman! He was kind and noble...and he currently had his hand around your delicate little throat.

"M-Mezo..." you corrected yourself. "I don't believe that..." You confessed shyly. "I can't, you're not a creep like that..."

"Oh, you're so wrong there," he cooed, his hips grinding against yours as he left bruises all over your shoulder and neck. "I'm a huge creep, for you specifially..."

Your head coninued to spin at his words, curious lust bubbling inside your tummy. "W-What...kind do you like?" You asked, barely above a whisper, wanting to take an interest in his desires.

"Of porn?" He asks, chuckling lightly as he raises back up to look at you. "Tentacle stuff, mostly." He admitted with a smirk. "Kinda obvious, I'd think. Just love the idea of taking someone from all different angles..." As if to prove his point, one of his spare hands left your skin, slitherng down your body, easing up as it reached your crotch, ghosting over your heat. "You want me to touch you, baby?"

"M-Mhm..." you nodded, mind plague with the image of Shoji in his room, in the dead of night, fucking into his fist, reading hentai of things that look like him desimating girls that look like you. Once again, he brings you back to the present with the sensation of a tongue pressed against your pajama shorts. Gasping, you tense beneath him, virgin body unaccustomed to the new feeling. "A-Ah!"

"Like that, pretty girl?" he asked, voice muffled as they moved against the fabric to talk..

"Y-You don't have to use that mouth to talk..." you pout, squirming under the cage that was his body.

"I know I don't," he replied, chuckling against you, the vibration making you cry out. "But it's so fun to see you wiggle around..."

"D-Don't toy with me, Sho..." you pout, looking up at him with sugary tears in your eyes. "Take 'em off..."

Unseen fingers hook around the hips of your shorts, threatening to inch them down before they halted, pulling them back up even m,ore securely with a gentle pat. "Nah, don't think you're ready." He teassed. "I know I'm a rookie at this stuff, but from what I've read, you're supposed to be begging me to eat this pretty cunt, and you're not so..."

You wanted to smack him, punch him, scold him for talking down to you as you shrunk into yourself. Reguardless, your need for him betrayed your pride. "P-Please...?" you choke out, humiliated tears threatening to spill down your red cheeks.

"Please what?" he grinned, eyeing you mischeviously.

"P-Please...eat me..."

"Eat you? Baby, thats called cannibalism and it's illegal in Japan." He responded, chuckling at your flustered frustration. Suddenly, to his suprise and delight, you reached forward, running your fingers through his tusseled, silvery hair, collecting fistfuls of it, before shoving his face between your legs.

"M-Mezo, just eat my pussy already, please!" You wept, unable to take anymore of his teasing. The look he gave in response would have sent you into cardiate arrest as his eyes darkened with desire. You jumped at the feeling of his teeth nicking your clit as the pulled the soiled fabric away.

"Don't have to tell me twice..."

[mochiwrites]

For the ask game/prompt, mayhaps #1 with Scarian? Could be in canon, one of your AUs, or any other AU you think of lol, no preference ☺️

01. Touch starved/cuddle curse (put that guy in a situation!)

reblogs do more than likes!

"How in the world have you managed this, Scar?!" Grian's indignant voice exclaims, echoing in the small space of Scar's train car. The avian looks down at the man currently pouting at him, a sheepish expression on his face.

"I-I don't know! Joel just gave me this potion thingy and -- and said it would be good for bonding with cOW!" As he speaks, he makes a grabbing motion for Grian, his pout morphing into a pleading look.

Grian pointedly takes a step back from Scar's outreaching arms, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Trusting Joel was your first mistake," he mumbles, sucking in a breath.

"He's a trustworthy fellow!" Scar retorts, "Besides, I don't see what's so bad about this arrangement... all I want to do is cuddle with you."

"That's exactly the problem, Scar!" The feathers of Grian's wings fluff up as he stares at his husband with a firm look. "I have building I have to do! Shops to set up, permits to not do! I also promised Gem I'd help her out with something in a few hours. I can't just stay here with you all day."

Scar's pleading expression only becomes stronger, his green eyes looking shiny as he stares up at Grian from where he sits on his head. "Please, lovebird? Just for a little bit?" He makes another grabbing motion for Grian, who finds his resolve rapidly crumbling the longer he looks at Scar.

"Nuh uh mister, I know exactly how this sort of thing goes. We both know it won't just be 'for a little bit,'" he answers. Grian's making any desperate attempts at keeping his denial firm.

But... he could just tell Gem he'd be around tomorrow. And it's not like the Permit Office is really ever open. They're only sometimes there to help anyway. And he still hasn't come up with any ideas for his mushroom stem shop.

"I promise this time I'll stick to it! Only a few hours, I swear on my hat!" Scar exclaims, eagerly nodding.

"Where have I heard that one before," Grian mumbles under his breath, fondness written into each and every word. He lets out a little sigh, "Alright, alright, fine. But only for a few hours! Let's hope this... cuddle affliction has run its course by then."

He takes a step toward Scar, and the moment he's close enough, a hand jumps out to grab hold of his wrist. Grian yelps as he's pulled right into Scar's lap, arms slinging around his waist. He steadies himself by gripping Scar's shoulders, finding the love of his life grinning at him.

"You should know I always want to cuddle with you." Scar shoots him a cheeky little wink, making Grian roll his eyes, a small smile upon his lips. "You just fit in my arms so perfectly!"

"Maybe that's just because you're a giant," Grian huffs, getting settled in Scar's hold. He moves to lay his head on Scar's shoulder, tucking it within the crook of his neck. "You're like one big teddy bear."

Scar squeezes him lightly, one of his hands moving to rest against the small of his back, right in between his feathers. The contact leaves Grian melting right into him with a content noise. "Am I a cute teddy bear?"

Grian snorts at him.

"It's the most important question I've ever asked you next to proposing, Grian!" Scar gasps in return, a serious look in his eyes. His green eyes sparkle with mirth, and pressed against him like this, Grian can feel the way his chest rumbles with hidden laughter. "I have to know if I'm a cute teddy bear!"

"Yes Scar," Grian sighs fondly, pulling back to hold the man's face in his hands, "you're a very cute teddy bear." He accentuates his response with a kiss to Scar's nose, "Although Jellie is cuter."

Scar makes some kind of ecstatic noise, pulling Grian down into bed as he rolls onto his side. Grian squawks at the sudden action, just narrowly avoiding his wings getting squished. "But of course! No one is cuter than Jellie. You come in a close second place though."

If it were anyone but Jellie, Grian would have complained.

Instead, he snuggles in close to Scar, wrapping a wing around him as they fall into a comfortable silence. Scar's arms are secure around him, and Grian thinks he'd be fine with laying here all day, wrapped in his husband's arms.

"Remember Scar, only for a few hours."

"Right, right! Only a few hours. Or until this cuddle curse goes away!"

(They go well over 'a few hours' together. Grian's communicator pings a few times, but it sounds almost silent over the pair's easy breaths as they sleep.)

[moonyswife]

Coffee Talk

MASTERLIST

Remus Lupin x reader

Warnings: Pure fluff, a bit of kissing and probs a bit of bad grammar.

06.26 AM

Dark clouds painted the sky, winter snow littered the ground outside, the freezing air was kept outside by the strong facade of the Potter Mansion. WInter break was coming to an end soon, as would her invitation to the Potter's, and as much as she missed the castle, the end of the mini vacation to James's with all their friend group for break was something she didn't want to end soon, or ever truthfully.

Y/m laid restless on her makeshift made on the guest room that was the designated "girl room", even though she shared a dorm with these lovely girls, they where incredibly more annoying during any kind of break, Marlene's snores where getting louder by the second, Mary kept talking in her sleep, Lily was way to clingy (they had to share a bed, because Lily agreed to come [begrudgingly] at the last minute).

With no room to breathe and uncomfortable, y/n got up, grabbed a blanket and with no care of being quiet left the room, these girls deserved to be disrupted, they deserved to be bothered, but alas, they where still fast sleep.

It was way to early too be up he sky was still awfully dark, she should be sleeping under a huge comfoter with her teddy and fuzzy socks, sadly she found herself laying on the couch with only a blanket to protect her from the freezing cold of the Potter's living room.

06:57 AM

A crack on the floor woke y/n up, she hadn't even realized she fell sleep, startled she sat up and cursed herself for not bringing her wand along, adjusting her eyes to find out whose face it was in the dark, it spoke.

“Shit! Merlin, you scared me” Remus Lupin himself was the face she couldn’t see, what a shame she thought, he has a gorgeous face.

“I know I’m not the best looking sleeper, but I don’t think I can get scary” her lame joke earned a small laugh from him. Worth it.

“You know I didn’t mean it like that” his voice was raspy, she figured it was from sleeping. “What are you doing here anyways? Why are we sleeping on the couch?”

“Could ask the same thing” She replied, “The girls are giving me hell, I have no idea how I can keep up with ‘em all year, what about you?”

He gave her a smile, the one that makes his dimples noticeable and the scar on his nose widen, the one that makes girls like her swoon at the sight of it, the one that he usually keeps hidden, the one that he secretly reserves for her.

“Same thing, the boys are incredibly annoying, god knows I’ve put up with them for five whole years, I need a break, plus, James’s room is way too cluttered for four guys to be able to sleep in.”

She hummed in response, “sit down, don’t just stand there by the doorway, it’s creepy”

Remus blushed he didn’t even realized that he was standing there so tense, he suddenly felt utterly aware of himself, of his tight pijama pants that were way too short on him, of his old shirt with holes in it that he was way to attached to to throw out, of his tussled hair, of the exposed skin littered with scars, he was in pajamas in front of her. Sure she was too, but she looked great, like always.

"Mmm, you scared the sleepiness out of me... What about an early breakfast?"

Honestly she was still pretty tired, but it has been a while since they could share a moment alone, ever simce they've left hogwarts the whole group has been glued together, it has been hard to have one on one conversations, not that she needed to, but there was something brewing inside of her anytime she talked with Remus alone, they both felt it, she was sure, but neither made the move.

"Sure, I really need a coffee" She said making her way into the kitchen.

"I'm more of a tea kind of guy, but I'll join you with a cup." He tried to make it sound non chalantly, but he really despised coffee, he only drank it when she was around, ever since that time in third year he obliged to grab a cup with her because he lied and told her he loved it to impress her.

Comfortable silence fell upon them as they made coffee, shuffling around the kitchen trying to be quiet, smal huffs and giggles filled the now warm kitchen, y/n couldn't help but smile anytime she looks at him, he was the most beautiful man on earth.

"Wat'cha looking at" He said grinning like a devil.

"You"

"Me? What's so interesting about me?"

"Stop messing with me, Remus, you know." Hopefully her cheeks would not be as red as they felt.

"Know what?." he was getting cheeky, she diverted her eyes from his face, suddenly the cup of coffee was the most intersting thng in the world.

"C'mon, look at me," He said as he tilted her chin upwards to look at him. Merlin he was tall. "Don't get shy on me all of a sudden, What's wrong?"

"Why don't you have a girlfriend?" it was a stupid question, she hoped that the answer was what she wanted, still, weird thing to ask.

He laughed "What? Why? Why do you care?"

"I asked first, like, really, how come the cutest guy in all of hogwarts is still single?"

because all I've ever wanted was you, he wanted to yell.

"I don't know, I don't really care for it" he lied, "Why don't you have a boyfriend, I've heard about guys interested in you" he tried to play his bitterness for friendly banter, he wasn't sure it worked.

She hummed "Well none of them are my type, y'know"

She looked at him in a way that would've made Remus's knees buckle it he wasn't standing against the kitchen island.

"Well whats your type?" Sudden braveness.

"Well, there's this guy and he's exactly my type" she said in a such a dreamy way that made Remus want to die, jealousy filled his chest.

"yeah, he's so dreamy, and cute and pretty" she liked the way that made him mad, he's the smartest person she knows, but he's stil just a boy, a very dense one at that. "he loves to wears old wooly sweaters, he loves fantasy and children books but pretends to only read philosophy to seem more nuanced" she looked into his eyes and held his hands, he squeezed them. "He loves tea, but he pretends to like coffee to impress the girl he likes" she laughed as her hands moved from his hands to his chest and finally to his neck.

He put his shaky hand on her hips, "Kiss me"he pleaded. She happily obliged.

Her heart skipped a thousand beats and she was sure she passed out for a second. It was perfection, the way his hand squeezed her waist as he deepens the kiss, how he hummed in her mouth when she tugged at his sandy curls, hours could've gone by, they wouldn't have cared.

Sadly they had to breathe so she broke the kiss, nose to nose and holding each other, they locked eyes as they fall into a fit of laughter.

"Okay.... so... we're on the same page, I think" she said as the laughter broke down.

"Yeah, I think we are" he grabbed her hand. Y/n yawned "Oh Merlin, what time is it?"

The clock signals:

07:38 AM

"Still pretty early to be up" he says, the coffee long forgotten.

"Mmm, want to cuddle and make out in the couch 'til the others wake up" she said hugging his side.

"I'd like that very much" he said pulling her out of the kitchen and into the living room couch.

10:05 AM

"OH MERLIN MY EYES!!!" A familiar voice woke them up. "JAMES! MOONY AND Y/N HAVE DEFILED YOUR COUCH!"

"Don't be stupid, Sirius, you woke them up" Lily's nagging followed.

Y/n had made no attemp to get up, to hell with them, she was comfortable, her arms around Remus's neck and his around her waist, theur legs tangled with each other's, slowly morphing into one.

"My Lilyflower's right, pads" James said. "Let them sleep, god knows it's been long enough with the yearning and the crushes and the longing glances. And they're way too much of cowards to do anything in some else's place, our Moony is a proper gentleman."

Remus flushed,but tried to keep quiet, he didn't care their mates were mocking them, all he cared about was his girl and his girl was cuddled up against him.

With a last kiss (momentarily), they dozed off again.

[nunalastor]

I have been struck by an idea for Angel Alastor AU

*Alastor's POV*

A couple months into his stay in Hell Alastor finds and figures out how deals work, as well as their roll they play in maintaining this realm. He is excited to try it out and finds out he is really good at it. BUT!! After awhile the people he takes under his care collapse into shows of light. He doesn't get it. What is he doing wrong! the only 2 thralls not leaving are Nifty and husker.

Let's see he takes in children and women who did what they had to do to survive. Check! Give them free housing in the forest he grew with his magic. Check!! Employ the women as either teachers/caretakers for the kids or writers for his radio shows. CHECK!!! Basically build and maintain a self sufficient community that doesn't have to worry about the stress of hell while he get to have his fun. Check fucking CHECK!!!!

No matter how many years pass in hell it keeps happening. It's confusing but that's ok, he only did it because all the most respected Overlords of hell run and maintain communities. His new bestie Rosie, Carmillia, Missi Zilla, Zestial and even that pathetic picture Box that got a lucky hit to his forehead with an angelic dagger ( thankfully Alastor bashed vox's face in before he could back up the memory) has one. Well the Princess is opening a hotel i hopes of rehabilitating sinners should be fun. He just hopes that the letters he wrote for Guy, Emily and his Mom and that they forgive him for his selfish acts.

*Heaven's/Micheal's POV*

It has been years since the one so loved by Heaven went missing because of Adam's carelessness when something miraculous starts happening. The souls of women and children damned to Hell start appearing before the high Seraphim Sera. Despite all the struggles the souls went through and endured, they had one thing in common.

Alastor

When Micheal is filled in on what's happening he doesn't rushes to the observation orb within Heavens Court house. With the help of the very souls Alastor redeemed he lays eyes upon his beloved for the first time in years. The sight is both comforting and devastating as Micheal watches Alastor rub at a nasty scar along his temple.

Of course. Everything makes sense now. His beloved wouldn't abandon everyone he loves on a whim. He didn't know it was possible for the love he has held for his deer to grow deeper because even when trapped in hell under the delusion that they're a demon Al still went out of his way to help others. After many apology's to Guy, Emily and Al's Mom for the deceit Sera decides the best course of action going forward is to call a meeting with Lucifer.....OH, Lucifer sent his daughter in his place. WAIT! She's starting up a redemption project that's perfect we can give her support through the search party now led by a talented exorcist by the name of Vagatha And his beloved's best friend Guy who's a detective turned therapist.

Charlie: "wait uncle, you know redemption is possible?"

Micheal: "Well yes, but not how because my boyfriend the saint who figured out how to do so, got trapped in Hell due to a tragic mistake some years ago suffering a horrible head wound. We were finally able to find him but we don't know how much he truly remembers."

*Lilith POV*

Lilith who has spent the last couple of years getting faded off champagne on a beach: "I feel like i'm forgetting something important" -the unopened letters Alastor asked her to deliver sitting at the bottom of her luggage- "If i can't remember, probably not a big deal."

-sleep deprived Anon-

P.S. the thought of Alastor finally finding joy in his after life only to have it be ripped out from under him because he is unintentionally being really helpful is funny and the growing unhinged perspective of Micheal as he searches for his beloved, is absolutely delightful for me

P.S.S. I had to write this down twice so it's a lot longer than it was originally so here's this wall of text-sorry not sorry

👀

[aviduringgremlinhours]

My Muse

~content warning: slightly nsfw~

Mizu x artist!reader

Authors note: I am not a writer so I apologize for any mistakes! Enjoy!

"Somethings' off...I can feel it..." you say as you squint at the canvas before you. Wether its the shape of the head or the length of the torso, you could TELL something was off. "Two years of art school and yet I still can't seem to get body proportions right. Ugh, maybe I should just find a different career path-"

You hear a knock on the studio door "Y/N? You in there? I made us some tea, can I come in?" you hear the voice of your partner, Mizu, behind the door. "Oh! Yes! Come in!" You exclaim. Upon your approval she comes in with two cups of tea and sets them both at the break table nearby. Deciding to take a break, you get up from the frustrating sketch before you to spend some much needed time with Mizu.

"Hows the art going? What are you working on?" She asks curiously. Mizu has always loved your art, and though she was a woman of few words, you could feel her admiration and respect coming off of her as she gazed fondly at the paintings made by your hand.

"I feel like if I try to fix it any longer I'm going to jump off a bridge" you sigh, half joking at this point. "Ouch, that bad?" She raises an eyebrow as her eyes scan the canvas. "It looks a little off but its not bad. Perhaps you should do some model studies. Who knows, maybe seeing the body up close will help you figure out what you're missing."  The idea sounds good in theory, but theres a problem with it "Where would I find someone willing to strip down and let me stare at them for hours while I draw them? I don't really have the cash to pay someone for it." You ask her earnestly.

"Well..." she contemplated "I could be your model, if you want." Your eyes widen at the thought, it makes sense, and its not like you haven't seen her naked before, but you feel a blush crawling up your cheeks regardless. "A-are you sure you're comfortable with that?" "Absolutely sure, I'm comfortable with it if you are. We can start after we finish the tea" She says, her ice blue eyes seemingly brightening up with excitement.

A brief moment later, and Mizu stands before you, a robe being the only thing covering her up. "I'm ready. Where should I stand?" She asks you. "Oh, just go sit on the lounge right here, I want to try capturing you in a leasurely pose." You say. "Just lay back with your back proped up on the arm of the lounge, have one knee bent, and your arm resting on the bent knee. Look off to the side as well." she nods and gets into position as you ready your pencil. "Ready?" You ask, "Ready."

You begin sketching out her figure, glancing over at her every now and then for reference. Every curve, every scar, every fold of her body carefully replicated onto your canvas. From her slender yet defined arms to her lean torso and model-eque long legs. "She's so beautiful..." you think to yourself. You sketch more. Her breasts, her gorgeously long dark brown hair, her breathtaking blue eyes-

You notice her glancing at you, flinching away your daydream as you hastily hide your burning red face behind the canvas. You hear a soft chuckle emit from her as she looks away, a warm smile fixed to her face and a light blush forming. The silence in the air that followed was not a suffocating one, but one that carried a sense of quiet intimacy between two lovers. Warm, soft, and inviting. You feel yourself beginning to relax as you continue to sketch the beautiful woman in front of you.

You finish your sketch up and exhale deeply "Its done! It came out so well! Would you like to see?" You ask her excitedly as she rises from the lounge and reaches for her robe. "Hell yeah I would." She replied. As she scanned over the canvas, her eyes widened with awe. "Its...amazing love, is this how you see me?" She asked "Of course!" You tell her "You're the most beautiful and amazing partner in the whole world, you could say you're my muse..." she looks away bashfully, a shy but happy hum coming out as a response. You gently turn her head to face you a plant a loving, soft kiss on her lips, one which she reciprocates in kind. "Thank you Mizu, you've been a great help. I love you." She beams at those 2 magic words "I love you too, Y/N"

[amethystfairy1]

we're BACK!

the sun-burned beauty updates we've been waiting to read were... certainly NOT what we were expecting, but... i mean... i'm not complaining!

also DESERT DUO??? the desert duo content has finally arrived! and im already SO excited!!!

but now i'm home, and i can create all the fanart i want! ...hopefully. my motivation is as bad as ever.

for the rest of this ask, a bit random, but here are my silly thoughts about what would happen if the TTSBC pairings (and some extra friends) went kayaking together!

Desert Duo: Naturally, the obvious way would be for Scar to sit in the back. And at first, they tried that, but he kept getting distracted and losing rhythm over and over again. Eventually, Grian got mad and moved him to the front. Apart from that... hurdle, I think they would do really well at this type of exercise. Scar wouldn't have to use his braces, and both probably have great muscles and condition from their side hustle. That is, if they can stay awake from how little sleep they get.

Flower Husbands: Scott really didn't want Jimmy to do this with his back pain, but he insisted he would be fine, and Scott eventually relented. He still wouldn't let him sit in the back, though. I think they would be one of the most coordinated pairings in here - when Scott is not trying to splash Martyn, which he totally takes the chance at every time they get near.

Zedango: Tango SHOULD NOT, under ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, be on a kayak. But it sounded so fun, and Zed really wanted to try kayaking for the first time, and if he stayed he would've drowned himself in work again, so they just wrapped him up in waterproof clothing and rowed very, VERY carefully. He ended up getting wet multiple times, underplaying the damage EVERY SINGLE TIME. They're dead last, and Tango's hands are water-burned all over by the time they get to the end, but they insist it was still a fun time. Zed's in the back - yes, it's his first time, but he quickly figured it out.

Treebark: Ren's got it. He totally can push the kayak on his own, Martyn doesn't have to do anything. But he still wanted to feel helpful, so he got an oar himself. It still got used mostly for the arbitrary splash war between him and Scott, and not for actual rowing.

Jizzie: Joel sits in the back, if only to satiate his own ego. Lizzie would probably be more competent than him, hunting clan and all. But they both are putting in the work, and enjoying the break from running a bakery as much as they can. Of course, Joel had to get some modifications made. The kayak is not butterfly friendly. 0/10.

Doctho: Unlike Martyn, Etho doesn't bother with false illusions of actually contributing anything. Doc's biotech can do it just fine, no sweat, so Etho's just going to enjoy the ride. They're closer to the back, keeping an eye on all of their 'little ones' - ESPECIALLY Tango.

Nature Wives: I like to think Katherine is the one who came up with the whole kayaking idea. She invited everyone, got the kayaks sorted, and found a suitable place (surely there are decent lakes in the under-city - Katherine herself fell in one). She's probably also sitting in the back and teaching Shelby how to row.

Gem & Pearl: My Shiny Duo heart wants to put them on a kayak so bad! They're not together, but would totally make short work of all these couples and their coordination. I can see them both in the back or front, but I'll put Pearl in the back just because as an avian, she definitely has a lot of back and arm strength. They're menaces, going in circles and splashing everyone. Nobody's safe from them! (Except Zedango)

Impulse: What's a kayaking trip without a nice lunch at the end? And for that to happen, someone has to give up one space on their kayak just for the supplies. I think Impulse would be great here. He's got the stamina needed to push a kayak on his own. As for the supplies... him, Gem and Pearl volunteered, so it may be just soup. (It totally is just soup.)

If someone wants to draw this, be my guest!

A bonus thought: isn't it wild how TTSBC!Scar would most likely be a Gryffindor, but TT!Scar a Slytherin?

I perhaps spent a little too long rolling around laughing about this 😆

Especially the image of Martyn getting paddled along faster than a speedboat because REN and meanwhile Zed and Tango are like going as slow as possible and Tango just keep going 'ouch! ow! ah!' because of the little droplets hitting him 😅 And Impulse just paddling along by himself with the big old picnic baskets stacked up in his boat, that's so cute! What a lovely outing for the group!

So glad you're back and enjoyed the end of Sun-Burned Beauty!

[sunkissedscribbles]

Prejudiced - Chapter Thirteen

this is only a part of the series, the previous and next chapters can be found here 

A/N: i know, i know. it took way too long for me to post this, but I'm back again

WORD COUNT: 1345

TW: mentions of death, mattheo's nightmare and memories

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dividers by @chachachannah

The remaining days of the winter break after Mattheo's birthday seem to drag me into a peaceful routine that becomes familiar by the end of it; Mattheo plays a big part in this routine, as it is technically only him I spend time with during this period. Kiara, well, got wrapped up in Theo's sheets again. Sometimes we have these days where we're barely in contact. It's like taking family leave from work. This week is one of those. We don't even meet in the Great Hall at breakfast since she messed up her sleep schedule again; waking up at four and going to sleep at four is her new profession, to say the least. Sometimes I feel like she's in a different timezone.

My daily routine, on the other hand, is different from hers: I have breakfast with Mattheo, sometimes with him and Theo when the latter can make it out of bed before Ki, study a bit afterwards (mostly with Mattheo sitting opposite me at the table in the library, trying to distract me), and then have lunch (the guy threatening me to stuff the food down my throat), and basically spend the rest of the day with him, with occasional outings to Hogsmeade, visiting the Black Lake, or making mixtapes in either of us' rooms.

And the bad thing is, that however much I enjoy his company, I'm growing too attached. I have attachment issues, that's for sure, making a very nice combo with my problem of trusting people and letting them in, but Mattheo somehow dodged and still dodges all those walls I tried to build around myself, just how I tried getting through his. Fortunately, successfully.

Last night, he had another nightmare. He hadn't had a single one during the break, fortunately, spared his birthday too, but he didn't have that luck yesterday. It hurts to see him like that: dishevelled, sweaty and with fear evident in his eyes – yet he manages to climb the stairs to the Gryffindor Tower, and up to my room, even if he sometimes seems lunatic in his walk.

"I saw him again–"

"He... attacked me–"

"Unforgivable curse–"

"I disappointed him–"

"Don't tell Theo..."

His words still echo in my mind, even as I roll over in the morning to tuck him in better. He always sleeps so peacefully after a nightmare; his facial muscles relax and he stops frowning his brows, and I can't help but want to reach out to touch the scar across his right eyebrow, to trace down along it. God, he's so gorg–

What?

No.

I suddenly shake my head, almost as if getting rid of the thought, a clearly inappropriate one. I have no idea what's got into me lately but this certainly isn't anything great. I let out a huff as I roll back over, but that doesn't help my case as I feel an arm wrapping around me in no time, pulling me closer, my back against Matt's chest, his breath hot against my neck, making my ears go red and my body heat up under the duvet.

I'm starting to think this is some sort of karma.

But, my train of thought takes a 180, and my mind is back on the boy spooning against me from behind. On how he always talks about his past after a nightmare, shares himself bit by bit, through small pieces.

I remember sitting on the floor with him in my room, our backs against the wall as he shared his life with me. “He’s always been violent, probably even before they took me in,” he said about Theodore Nott Sr in a shaky voice. “He’s always hurt Theo and me, physically and mentally. But he was the worst to mum.”

He told me he’s called Theo’s mother ‘mum’ ever since he could remember.

“…I don’t have many memories about my family. I was little when mother left us, and Theo’s family took me in as soon as my father disappeared, that night…”

I remember his voice shaking as he talked about Theo’s mum, and even now at the simple memory, I start gently caressing his forearm draped around my waist.

“She never distinguished Theo and me. We were both his boys. She taught me Italian,” he smiled softly, though his eyes grew sadder as he went on. “And she was such a great cook, Merlin.”

“Theo’s father did horrible things to her, too. And then, one night-“

“One night, when we were eight, he came he came home drunk. Like, wasted. And he… used an Unforgivable Curse on her. He… tortured her, and didn’t stop until… it was too late. I was afraid he’d kill us too. That was the night I got this,” he pointed at the scar casting down his right eyebrow and cheek, his voice growing shakier by the second. “I-I wanted to help mum, but… I was too late. Theo didn’t come out of his room for days."

He also told me how it was for him when we arrived at Hogwarts in first year. “Horrible,” he stated simply with a bitter tone. I can recall myself how people looked down on him or expected the worst. Half the school was afraid of him, and the other half wanted to test the waters. Pranks, rumours, he got the worst of it. In our second year, he was accused of letting the troll in on Halloween, hexing Harry’s broom, etc.

But the third year was the worst so far, when everything revolved around the Chamber of Secrets. Yes, Harry got it bad, too, but never as much as Mattheo. Sometimes I wish I could turn back time and hex people who had judged him before getting to know him.

I’d put every one of them into a coma.

Can I even say something like this as a Prefect?

Probably not.

Anyway.

I look down at the arm of the sleeping boy swung around my waist protectively.

What would it be like if I held his hand?

The memory of the first night of this school year appears in my mind, how I grabbed him by the hand and pulled him up into the Astronomy Tower. Then, the realization comes washing down on me like ice-cold water, that I, indeed have hexed someone who was rude to Mattheo.

Bloody McLaggen. But he deserved it. Cormac is a reappearing problem in my life, too, something you would want to just cut off and never think of any more. Not like a recurring nightmare, more like an embarrassing wet dream with someone you’d rather not imagine yourself having sex with, as even the thought of it is A, humiliating, B, inconvenient, or C, outright frightening and disgusting. Like doing it with Darth Vader (excluding the time he was an actual human being because I can understand Padmé). And I strongly believe I’m not the only one thinking this about him.

Him shifting a bit around shakes me out of my thoughts, and I suddenly become overly aware of how his hips bucked a little against my backside, and how he scooped me closer to himself like a kid his teddy bear just a second ago. Hell, I could get used to this.

I can’t seem to relax though, and can’t fight the urge of taking his hand in mine, so I act without thinking and gently grab it, without waking him up. Like that night. And like the evening of the Yule Ball.

I wish we had more opportunities to waltz around the Great Hall.

His hand on my waist, the other holding mine gently, how his hips brushed against mine while we were dancing, and how securely he pulled me back against him after twirling me—

No. I need to stop. ASAP.

I take a deep breath, trying to untangle my thoughts, but my heart only starts beating faster, and I try to forget about those drug and alcohol-driven kisses, but MERLIN, THOSE LIPS. Kiss him and try to make me forget after.

Fuck, this is not good.

tag list: @inksoakedparchment @mattiesgf @mqstermindswift @girllblogging777 @myysunshine @yelanare @mamartinez

[ghostwise]

“kisses where one person is sitting in the other’s lap” for whoever you’re thinking of :)

Lirio has dreams of flying.

Free as a bird, weightless and floating. Lirio has dreams of diving through briny water, and somehow never needing to take a breath. In his dreams, he seeks out red coral, which is lucky, and oysters, which are expensive. He shucks them and finds pearls inside.

"How do you feel when you wake up from those dreams?" Harding asks him.

He thinks about it for a moment, then sighs as he rests his arms on his knees. "Like I've lost something."

"That… sounds so sad." Harding blinks at him. "Even your nice dreams leave you feeling wistful. I'm starting to suspect there isn't a truly pleasant dream at all."

Lirio laughs and shakes his head.

They are in her quarters. True to his word, Lirio has taken to sleeping a chaste distance from her bedroll, ready to wake her with a gentle word when her dreams get restless. Though currently, she's splayed out upon pillows under her tent. He's sitting by the pond, feet in the water, watching little fade frogs swim beneath the surface.

"I do feel sad, for a moment, waking up from a good dream," he says. "Sometimes I wish I could hang onto the feeling from the dream… but my point is, there's good dreams and bad. We just need to figure out how balance yours out. Minimize your nightmares so you can have nice dreams, too."

"I'd settle for neutral," Harding sighs. "Neve says she rarely remembers her dreams. But I can't seem to shake mine. They stick to me the entire day."

"Well, it's all new to you," Lirio says. "And you've had your share of worries even while awake. Have patience, Lace Harding. It will get better. I'll be here until they do."

"Only until then?" she asks, sitting up with a smile, and he laughs.

"You will still need me close by then," he says, "to make sure the nightmares don't return."

She smiles and blushes at that. And he's right.

That night Lace dreams that she's back at Skyhold, in the temporary quarters she would lodge in when not traveling for the Inquisition.

The air is cold, even with a fire in the hearth. That part is the same. What isn't the same is that somehow Lirio is there, too.

In the dream they are both as they currently are, and they know each other as they currently do, except she slides over the armrest of his chair to settle in his lap as naturally as if they were saying hello to each other.

His arms encircle her. Without hesitation, his hands slide over her back and come to rest at her hips, and they kiss, in this dream of impossible timelines.

With shocking detail, the dream paints for her the heat of his breath, the rough texture of the scars which frame his lips, the rasp of his voice saying her name against her mouth. All things she's never experienced, so how could the dream know to replicate them?

And there is something hazy about the dream, like a gesture drawing depicting only loose shapes and motions--possibilities of what they could do to each other. A touch at her waist, fingers ghosting up her spine. Buckles unclasping under sure and steady fingers. Desire, and not a hint of restraint.

She wakes with a start.

The Fade has no semblance of time, but her quarters are dark and bathed in cool and silvery light, as if moonlight were shining through the high alcove windows. A few feet away, sleeping on the chair beside the pool, Lirio snores quietly.

"Holy shit," Harding whispers, her mind reeling. Better than a nightmare, to be sure. However, this is something she will most definitely need to address in the morning.

The following day, Lirio finds her in the library.

"Doing some light reading?" he asks.

"Research," Lace says, finding it hard to look him in the eye today. "Reading about different types of dreams." She clears her throat and buries her face in the pages.

"Smart idea," Lirio observes. "And perfect timing, given the topic. I brought you something."

Lace looks up at him. He's stepped closer to her, holding something out in his hand. It is a necklace, with a small red charm dangling at the end. She takes it, cautiously, already blushing.

"It's called a cornicello," he says. "It's carved from red coral. It protects against bad luck."

"It's really pretty, Lirio," Lace manages, heart racing for no discernible reason. "For my bad dreams?"

"Figured anything was worth a try. Plus," he says with a grin, "it's the same color red as your hair. Made me think of you."

"You're sweet!" Lace covers her smile with her hand. "Thank you!"

He beams at her, and something tells her she will have more dreams to contend with.

[nurse-floyd]

Not a People Doctor

Pairing: Rhett Abott x Vet!Reader

Fandom: Outer Range

After a bar fight, Rhett shows up at your doorstep.

For the amazing @vivwritesfics and the reason I am now Rhett/ Bob trash! Thank you for the title idea 💕💕

It's getting late as you settle down in your living room with a hot cup of tea and the latest book you're reading. Your peace is interrupted by a soft knocking at your door. You almost think you've imagined it when the knock comes again, a little louder this time. Grumbling slightly, you set your book aside, hoping it isn't another mare in labour or a horse with colic; you just want a quiet night.

Opening the door, you put on a smile for the paying customer you expect to find, but your smile falls as you see none other than Rhett Abbott, your childhood friend and a frequent customer. He looks dishevelled, blood staining his clothes, and you can already see the bruises and cuts on his face in the dim porch light.

"Jesus, Rhett, what the hell happened to you?" you exclaim, ushering him inside.

He winces as he moves, clearly in pain but not wanting to let on. "Got into a bit of a scuffle at the bar," he mutters, not quite meeting your gaze.

Leading him into your living room, you move the blanket you'd been cuddled under not long ago. "Sit down, let me take a look at you."

He lowers himself onto the sofa. You flip on the light switch to give you a better view of his injuries as you sit on the coffee table opposite him.

"You must've really pissed someone off," you tut as you gently turn his head with your fingers on his chin. You lift his shirt seeing the bruises over his ribs, shaking your head. "We need to get you to a hospital; some of these cuts need stitches. Probably got a broken rib or two as well." 

Rhett gives you a shit-eating smile, a smile only he could pull off when his face looks half as bad as it does, and it still makes you weak at the knees. "That's why I came here, thought you were a doctor."

"I'm an animal doctor, not a people doctor," you shake your head in disbelief.

"I can try. I don't have any of the good pain meds, so it's going to hurt like a bitch, and it won't be the prettiest. Gonna have a few more scars to add to the list."

"Never had any complaints from you. You always liked my scars and tattoos."

You smack him lightly on the arm, causing a 'hey' from him in response. Ignoring him, you run to get the first aid kit you keep in your bathroom closet as well as your veterinary kit.

You start to clean his wounds, carefully stitching up the deep cut over his eyebrow. You can't help feeling a pang of concern. Rhett isn't a stranger to bar fights, but seeing him so vulnerable and injured stirs something within you.

"Are you going to tell me what that fight was about?" you ask gently, your voice laced with worry.

Rhett hesitates for a moment before he meets your gaze. "It was dumb. Just some guy mouthing off about things he shouldn't have," he admits, jaw clenching.

You sigh, finishing up and snipping the last of the stitches. "You need to be more careful, Rhett. You're going to get yourself seriously hurt one day."

He nods, his expression sheepish. "I know... I know. I just... I didn't want to go to the hospital."

You place a comforting hand on his cheek, your thumb gently smoothing over his cheekbone. "Well, you're just lucky you've got me, and I happen to know my way around stubborn bull riders, and I'm pretty good at suturing."

A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. "You have no idea."

Once you've finished cleaning and bandaging the last of the wounds on his face, you sit back, admiring your handiwork. "There... all done," you lean in and place a gentle kiss on the side of his head, "good as new." 

Rhett stands up slowly, getting a look in the mirror above your fireplace. "Thanks, sweetheart. I owe you one."

"Don't mention it, I'll just add it to the list. Just promise me you'll be more careful, Rhett. I'm pretty good, but some injuries I can't fix."

He nods, his gaze finally meeting yours. "I promise."

As he makes his way to the door, you can't help but shake the feeling of concern lingering. "Hey, Rhett? You need a place to stay tonight? Probably shouldn't be alone after something like this."

"I don't want to put you out..."

"You're not," you interrupt him.

Rhett's gaze softens, and you can see the gratitude in his eyes. "I... I'd appreciate that. Thank you."

You feel a wave of relief wash over you as you leave him on the couch, running to change your sheets, not wanting him to spend the night on the sofa with his injuries.

"Beds all changed; let's get you some rest. I've got some pain meds and a glass of water up there for you too."

He looks at you, confused as to why you haven’t brought down blankets and pillows, assuming he'd be sleeping on the couch.

You hold out your hand. "Come on, I don't mind. Besides, I'll feel a lot better knowing you're not sleeping on that uncomfortable sofa."

He blinks, confusion evident in his expression. "Are you sure, Y/N? I don't want to intrude."

You give him a look that leaves no room for arguments, and he knows he'd be fighting a losing battle to even try.

With a grateful nod, he takes your hand, helping pull himself to his feet before he follows you up the stairs. You pull back the covers, helping him slip under the blankets before joining him. As you both lie there, you couldn’t help but love the feeling of the warmth of his body beside you. You love it even more as he wraps an arm around your waist, whispering a thank you into the crook of your neck.