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

[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.

[angels-read-fanfiction-too]

Say i'm the only bee in your bonnet <3!

Another jerry fic cuz... um... mlem :P sorry if it's kinda sucky, wrote this while sick

Warnings: swearing

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"Make a little birdhouse in your soul!" The radio sung out as your mother copied, excited to hear a song she likes. You were being driven to your new boyfriends house! Yes you were 17 but driving was kinda scary so your mom was always an easier choice. You fidgeted nervously, drawing simple shapes on your leg as you waited for the drive to end. You always noticed Jerry doing it to his desk during class so you eventually picked it up from being around him so much. No matter how many times you met up, the idea of seeing him still worked you up to an anxiety more similar to the feeling of waiting to ride a rollercoaster than a visit the doctors. As you were worrying in the car, Jerry was rushing to clean up his room due to having procrastinated all day. The heaps of trash were disposed of and his dirty clothes were dumped into his closet by now but he was still worried of your opinion on his room, even more now that his mother surprised him with changing his sheets to the Yugioh ones he got teased ruthlessly for by the club. He has now decided he would just accept the fate of a slightly messy and very embarrassingly geeky room and decided to try and check his hair in the mirror. Shit, did he always have this many pimples? and how was his hair already kinda greasy?! He washed it last night in preparation! He started trying to pop the spots on his face which made his eyes slightly water but he was determined to make a good impression! Ding Dong! He rushed downstairs, slightly too quickly which made him trip down a couple steps. He clung his spindly arms to the banister to keep him up but ended up hitting his knee against it in the panic. Okay, maybe he should take a second to walk super carefully down the rest of the stairs- Ding Dong! Never mind. He rushed down the rest of the stairs, not tripping this time, and opened the door. There you were, smiling back at him. It made him a little less nervous. Despite the developing bruise on his knee, acne scarred face and messy hair, he looked into your eyes and saw your joy to see all of him, not just the 'good' parts.

"Hi!- Jerry, you're bleeding."

"Huh?" Jerry put his hand up to his face and felt multiple of the zits he just tried to get rid of bleeding lightly down his face. A slight panic overtakes him as he looks around, his neck moving erratically like a nervous squirrel as he tries to find something quick to wipe the blood off his now glowing pink face. He would've used his sleeve but he didn't want to take the chance of you to see him as slobbish or gross.

"It's no big deal, here." You lifted your sleeve to his face and quickly wiped off the small drops of blood, giving him a comforting smile. Your mother goes back to her car and lets you two be.

"I've got a lot of thunder cats on tape if you wanna watch that, i also have the whole vhs set of buck rogers!" He suggested, walking with you to the living room. His head turned to you as he walked but suddenly got more bashful as he realised that girls usually didn't like that stuff. "Or we could watch something else... I've got popcorn if you want that but my parents only buy the shitty low calorie stuff so, uh, sorry about that."

You two sit down together on the sofa, a bowl of popcorn between you and start watching lord of the rings. during the movie Jerry starts some awkward chatter, not wanting to show how truly awkward he was around girls.

"So uh... did you know that David Bowie auditioned for Elrond?" He looked over to you, trying to remember the shitty advice his friends gave him.... Okay he can't do any of that without a sexual assault case, but he remembers movies! Letting out a fake yawn, he attempted to wrap his arm over your shoulders. "It's uh... real late... maybe you can come to bed for a nap?" You smirked a little in both amusement and shock at his very embarrassing attempt of flirting and he seems to immediately regret it. He cleared his throat awkwardly and didn't take his arm off you but you could feel it stiffen with anxiety.

"I'm okay, thank you." He just looked even more embarrassed when you said no. He turned his head away from you with his blush spreading to his ears and neck. You were both in an awkward silence now as he internally tried now to freak out over how he was messing this up. The light was a little too bright to see the tv as well as you should, his parents were talking in the kitchen, his hands were getting really clammy! he probably should've listened to his friends, this was a mistake. it's better to pine over something rather than mess everything up with them after a week or two of dating! He suddenly felt something that snapped him out of his mini panic. Your head rested on his shoulder, the heat from not just your blood but your gentle care warming him up to a comforting temperature. He looked down to your slightly sleepy face, the way your hair scrunched against his signature green sweater. He suddenly couldn't hear his friends insults anymore or any of his worries. He just knew that he really liked you, and you felt the same to him. You soon felt the pressure of his head against yours, his overgrown shaggy bowl cut brushing against your scalp.

"Is this what started your thing for fantasy or was it before this?" taking his hands in yours, you were happy to ask about his interests. Jerry always loved that about you. Sure you teased but you always listened and valued his opinions and passions. He didn't really get that from anyone else.

"Uh... no, i heard about a dnd club in school a couple years ago and that started it." Jerry confessed, focusing more of the feeling of you two together rather than the questions you asked him.

"I've always been interested in dnd. You should help me make a character, i've always been interested in the subclasses-"

MWAH!

Jerry quickly leaned in, his face scrunched nervously and lips pouted borderline cartoonishly for his first kiss before he smashed his lips into yours. You were surprised but not upset! The kiss was rushed, clunky and inexperienced but it made you both so happy. He put one of his hands on your waist and the other holding your cheek, gentle and cautious like he was handling priceless china. Your arms wrapped over his neck to pull him closer to you, your chests pressed together which reminded Jerry to brag about this to his friends later as he could hear your heart beat against his. When you both finally pull away, you could hear his panting breath.

"Thanks, buck..." He muttered which you just responded to with a giggle.

"Buck? that's what you call your girlfriend?" His face somehow flushed an even deeper red with his blood pressing against his pale skin. Before he could respond, you give him one more little kiss.

"You're so cute, Jerry."

[scariusaquarius]

rehab. 34.

Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Winter Soldier! Fem! Reader

Summary: While on a mission to find any more possible super soldiers that were a part of the Winter Soldier program, Steve and Bucky make a discovery in an abandoned HYDRA base that was cleared out a few years prior to their mission. They discover the Reader, a long-forgotten soldier that was still asleep within a functioning cryostasis pod; still awaiting orders. While Bucky isn't happy about it, he is put up to the challenge of helping to rehabilitate the soldier in Wakanda where she may be able to become a person again.

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A/n: That last chapter was fucking insane alskdjf;asjf but WOOO. This chapter may feel choppy at first since I'm not covering their reactions through the whole court trial as;ldfja;sdfj but I still hope you guys enjoy. Shoutout to my mom, again, for helping me with the news anchor Also, if you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee! If you would prefer to read Rehab on Archive, you may do so right HERE!

This is an au where Bucky joined the avengers but still rehabilitated in Wakanda (sometime before Infinity War [canon divergent cause NOPE]). I am NOT fluent in Russian, so I did use google translate cause I couldn't find a good translator that I trusted. If anything is wrong, PLEASE let me know!! Also, I tried to list as many warnings as possible so you know what the story will contain as chapters are posted. Stay safe!

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Genre: Slowburn, Enemies to Lovers/Friends to Lovers, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Humor, Drama, Dark Content Rated: Explicit Warning: Angst, Dark Content: Graphic Depictions of Sexual Assault, Blood and Gore, Mentions of Manipulation, Kidnapping, Canon-Typical Violence, Body Horror, Nonconsensual Body Modification/Scarring, Emotional and Physical Abuse, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts/Ideation, Graphic Depictions of Human Remains, Mentions of Sexual Coercion/Manipulation, Death, Misuse of Drugs/Forced Drugging, Self-Harm (Graphic Depictions and Mentions), Nightmares

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Author: ScariusAquarius

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rehab masterlist. / rehab masterlist 2. chapter 30 / chapter 31 / chapter 32 / chapter 33

In Wakanda, Bucky was sitting down at a table within the lab, a hologram feed of the court case being livestreamed as he clutched his hands together.

He was quiet; tense and anxious as he watched the prosecutor give her opening statement, and he could hear Sam's slow breathing from beside him as he watched with poorly bated breaths.

Bucky was worried; unsure of how the court case was going to go. If there was a God out there that actually loved him, Bucky hopes that the court case would fall into the Avengers favor.

However, if HYDRA had already started to pay off the politicians and courts...there was no telling what was going to happen. With the event being televised on national TV, it only gave HYDRA the advantage.

If they wanted to make a statement, it was the perfect time to do so. After all, all eyes were on the screen. How else to announce that they were still in operation? How else to announce that one head is cut off and two will grow in its place?

When the court began to play the recording that Natasha and Maria had obtained during their interrogation secure debriefing with Director Holloway, Bucky's face had darkened just the slightest.

'Project Achilles...it was a last resort. We worked together with HYDRA to create the perfect agent...we slaved for years trying to replicate what Howard Stark had created. Robert had always been a brilliant mind, you see? While HYDRA and the CIA had the same idea of creating a perfect weapon, the CIA wanted to...to have the perfect agent that could protect our country! But HYDRA....HYDRA wanted to expand their influence...to control from within! Project Achilles was just a front!'

Bucky's fists clenched, and Sam shook his head after listening, muttering.

"She never had a chance. Unbelievable."

Then, (Y/n)'s existence was exposed, and Bucky felt his stomach drop. This was bad. Now that the world knew that there was another Winter Soldier, even if they were being rehabilitated, Bucky knew that there was going to be a new outrage. It made Bucky distraught. His new phone was ringing, but Bucky didn't bother to look or acknowledge the device.

How was the world going to cope with (Y/n) (L/n)?

How was (Y/n) going to cope with the world?

As the court case continued on, Bucky's body began to hum with anticipation when Steve was called to the stand. When the prosecutor asked Steve to walk him through the recovery mission, Bucky became antsy.

He could see the faces of the reporters and spectators in the court shift into ones of apprehension at the mention of his name, and Sam inconspicuously glanced at Bucky from the corner of his eye.

He could tell that Bucky was anxious; his thumbs brushing against each other over and over as he clenched his jaw. His blue eyes were staring directly at the screen, his ears pricked and actively listening, and Sam adjusted in his seat after taking a long breath.

Then, when the defense attorney began to question Steve, Bucky became angry and upset. It was obvious that the man was trying to shift the blame onto him, and while Steve was doing everything in his power to keep the blame off of Bucky, Bucky knew that it was fruitless.

In the eyes of the public, he would always be a criminal.

Bucky placed his head in his hands, and Sam wasn't sure what to do.

'Yes. Against his will while under the control of Alexander Pierce—and through enforcement by Brock Rumlow and Jack Rollins. That was established in his pardon proceedings.'

Steve's tone was sharp enough that it had Sam chuckling.

"Way to go, Cap. Give him the smackdown!"

Bucky shook his head a little, wiping his face before bringing his hands to his lips. Would it even matter? Would Steve's words and Bucky's own pardon proceedings even matter? Would his effort to make amends even matter?

When the court went into a 10 minute recess, he could see the prosecution whispering among themselves, Steve looking annoyed as Clint whispered something to him, and Sam comforted Bucky gently.

"Don't worry, Buck, it's going to work out."

"That's not what I'm worried about."

There was no bite to his words; no sarcastic notions that dipped into his words like a ghost. Instead, Bucky's voice was filled with guilt and shame; the weight of the world and his past hanging on his shoulders, and Sam pursed his lips before crossing his arms.

"What are you worried about then?"

Bucky glanced up at Sam with a 'are you serious?' look on his face.

"Even though I got pardoned, the world still sees the Winter Soldier when they look at me. How do you think they're going to look at (Y/n)? Do you realize how hard it's going to be for (Y/n) to have a normal life now that people have been given a predisposed idea of who and what she is?"

Sam was quiet for a moment before he looked back at the screen as court was called back into session. When the prosecution suddenly called a late witness, both Sam and Bucky sat up with confusion in their eyes. When Tony's name was dropped, Bucky's eyes widened.

"You gotta be kidding me."

Sam and Bucky shared a look together before watching the screen to see how the next portion of the case was going to play out. When Tony strolled into the courtroom, wearing that 'you can't touch me' look on his face, Bucky couldn't help but to internally groan.

"Of course he would show up like that."

Bucky muttered, running a hand through his hair, and Sam chuckled gently, leaning back in his chair.

"Let's hope he sticks the landing."

They both shared a look together before watching as Tony gave the rundown on his Stark Forensics program and how he was able to authenticate the memories that were extracted and recorded from (Y/n) during the earlier parts of her rehabilitation.

Then, when the defense attorney cross-examined him and the evidence was submitted, both Sam and Bucky watched with amusement as Tony practically skipped his way to the prosecution table and sat down with a grin on his face.

"Mr. Stark, what the hell are you doing?"

Tony shrugged, gesturing with his hand wildly.

"Oh, this is a show that I don't want to miss, your honor. You understand, right?"

Sam couldn't help but to snicker, shaking his head.

"I don't know how he does it, man."

Bucky just sighed. Even with Tony's presence and him hamming up the evidence, there was still a chance that the court case was going to go badly. There was still a dangerous line that was being danced upon, and Bucky wasn't sure what side the world was going to fall on.

Then, Shuri was sworn in, and Bucky felt a bit of relief go through him. If there was one person that he knew could tip the scales, it was Shuri.

There was something grounding and comforting about seeing her, his heart relaxing its pace just a tad, and when she launched into an in-depth explanation of the neural mapping, the extraction process, the authentication systems, Bucky felt his body physically relax.

But then the clips of memories that Shuri had obtained began to play, and Bucky became slack-jawed. There were memories that even he hadn't seen playing, and it made fury fill Bucky's body unlike anything he had ever felt before.

Especially the last one, where it showed just how (Y/n)'s scars on her mouth and other parts of her body had been created.

From beside him, Sam had to look away, his own jaw clenched and shaking his head as his fists clenched inconspicuously beneath his crossed arms.

Bucky refused to look away, the images becoming burned into his head, and there was a small part of him that knew he was going to have nightmares about them. The Judge seemed to be just as upset, regarding the defense attorney with a fire in her eyes that hadn't been there before. When the defense attorney didn't bother to cross-examine, Bucky knew that the man was aware of just how fucked he was now.

And the whole time, Jack Rollins just smiled.

Bucky's vision was tunneling just the slightest from the anger, and that familiar clawing from deep within him began to make an appearance; his throat closing up slightest and his body tensing as if he was getting ready to fight.

McDaniel began to give her closing argument, but Bucky couldn't even be bothered to listen. He just couldn't. Blood was rushing through his ears, and he almost didn't hear Sam address him until Sam called his name a little louder.

Bucky slowly looked over at him, and although Sam looked just as upset, there was a gleam of concern swimming within his brown eyes, and Bucky subtly trembled from the anger.

"There's no way he's gonna get off easy after that."

"I should have just killed him."

Sam didn't answer Bucky right away, his face contorted into a serious expression. His jaw clenched, and Bucky wondered if he agreed with him just the once. Instead, Sam simply stated.

"If you had, none of this would have come to light. He won't be getting off easy after all of this; him nor Holloway."

Bucky just stayed quiet, turning back to the holographic screen. When the jury went to deliberate, the cameras panned to both sides of the room. Mr. Leeds looked absolutely irate, but the prosecution?

He'd never seen Steve look so angry before.

While Bucky knew Steve to have a bit of a temper, it was never from a place of true hostility. Steve was a protective person; it was just who he was. A kind, compassionate man that had no qualms with standing for what he believed in and fighting for what was fair and right.

But nothing about the way he was looking at Jack was fair nor right. When Bucky watched Tony grab his arm to keep him from lunging, Bucky couldn't help but to think how out-of-character it was for Steve to lose his cool. Though, Bucky couldn't fault him. Bucky wasn't even there, and for good reason.

He would have given the country another reason to fear him had he been in that courtroom, pardon be damned.

Even after all the therapy, the healing, the trying-that deep darkness within him had never truly left. It was like a memory; a quiet shadow that crept up on him every once in a while. You could take away all of the programming, but you couldn't take away the soldier that slept deep within.

So, Bucky stayed in his seat. He stayed in Wakanda, and he watched and waited with bated breath as the jury and the judge entered the room again.

"In the matter of the United States versus Jack Rollins, on the counts of all charges brought against Jack Rollins—we find the defendant: guilty."

The relief was instant, his head falling down as he let out the breath that he had been holding, and Sam let out a 'whoop!' as he celebrated. Sam sat forward in his seat, hands clasped as he whispered to himself.

"Come on. Come on, man. One more."

A beat. Another held breath. Another surge of anxiety, and then-

"In the matter of the United States versus Director Dean Holloway—on the charge of obstruction of justice, conspiracy, and aiding and abetting war crimes—we find the defendant: guilty on all counts."

Sam let out a 'yes!' with a fist pump, and Bucky let his head fall into his hands. There was a heavy weight lifted from his shoulders, and he didn't realize just how badly he was shaking until Sam clapped the man on the back.

"See? Told you it was gonna work out, man."

Bucky nodded numbly, taking a huge deep breath as the Judge instructed a new date to be set for sentencing, and the screen changed to a news outlet that was covering the case. The news anchor, a younger woman with a shocked look and blinking eyes staring into the camera as she shook her head slightly.

"Well, there you have it, folks. Jack Rollins and the Director of the CIA have been found guilty on all charges brought against them in arguably one of the most historic case in modern times. In just a moment, renowned lawyer and legal analyst, Jennifer Walters, will join us to discuss the case and the verdict. However, footage just outside of the courthouse has been captured and circulating as tensions reach a new high."

It was chaos outside of the courthouse. Reporters, spectators, protestors, and the like were surrounding the attending Avengers with a vengeance as they shouted their numerous questions and statements. Bucky watched with a frown as one reporter shoved a microphone into Tony's face, his voice echoing through the lab.

"Mr. Stark! Given how long she was with HYDRA, do you think (Y/n) (L/n) is even capable of being a real victim—or is she just another trained killer playing the sympathy card?"

Instantly, Bucky's blood began boiling again, his eyes darkening, and he couldn't get the words out of his head.

Another trained killer playing the sympathy card.

His vibranium hand clenched tightly, the plates shifting and the circuitry whirring loudly as Bucky became pissed. He watched Tony's face become stone-cold, ripping his sunglasses off to give the man a dark look.

"You know what I think?"

Silence, and then a single phrase that had the crowd erupting into the loudest uproar since the case began.

"Fuck this guy."

The screen froze, and Sam barked out a laugh, clutching his chest slightly as he shook his head.

"I can't believe it. He actually said that on national television!"

Although the interaction was amusing, Bucky found it hard to laugh as the reporters words echoed through his head over and over. Pursing his lips, Bucky listened passively as Sam continued to speak.

"You gotta admire the PR nightmare this man wakes up and chooses to be every day."

Bucky hummed in agreement, and though Sam noticed the way Bucky seemed to have detached himself, he didn't comment about it. Something in the reflection of the hologram caught his eyes, and Bucky froze before turning around to see (Y/n) standing there.

Her eyes were trained on the screen as the reporter and the legal analyst began to converse with each other, and Bucky couldn't move. Sam immediately paused the stream, and (Y/n)'s brows were furrowed in awe and disbelief as she stared at the image that had been brought up on the screen by the news anchor and the legal analyst.

It was the pretty woman; the pretty woman in the photo that she held onto like it was her lifeline.

It was her.

"(Y/n)..."

Bucky's voice was breathless, his eyes widened as he looked at (Y/n). His tone was careful, not accusing or upset, but rather surprised and worried to see her. Had she been watching the whole time?

"That was...about me?"

Her voice was small, never taking her eyes off of the frozen screen, and the men shared a look together before Bucky nodded before he explained softly.

"Yeah...about what they did to you...and making sure they never do it again."

(Y/n) finally looked at him, and she bit her lip before glancing down at the ground, whispering.

"They...fought for me?"

Sam's throat bobbed as he swallowed, glancing at Bucky before looking back at (Y/n) and affirming gently with a comforting smile.

"We all did."

His words rung heavy through the air, and (Y/n) didn't understand why she felt a sense of relief go through her, her brow furrowing in confusion at the feeling before she asked quietly, glancing between the men.

"No..no more?"

Bucky immediately nodded, his body relaxing as well as he stated firmly.

"No more."

Suddenly, Bucky's phone ringing broke the silence, and he glanced down at his phone before becoming annoyed. Reading the caller I.D, Bucky huffed before excusing himself.

"Sorry, I need to take this. I'll be right back, (Y/n)."

(Y/n) didn't say anything, just watched as he exited out of the lab before glancing at Sam and the screen again. Slowly, like an animal testing the waters, (Y/n) moved to sit down next to Sam and asked him.

"Can we keep watching?"

Sam looked skeptical for a moment, asking her as he grabbed the remote for the holographic screen.

"Are you sure?"

(Y/n) didn't seem to know how to answer before she simply nodded, and Sam sighed before playing the livestream again. The image jolted for a moment, and the news anchor was now accompanied by the legal analyst, Jennifer Walters, who (Y/n) was shocked to find was very tall, very big, and very green.

Jennifer was adjusting her blazer before she regarded the news anchor with a firm look upon her face, the woman towering over the woman as she sat next to her.

"...the real question now, Erica, is how we navigate the aftermath—not just of United States v. Rollins and Holloway, but of everything that came to light in this trial. We're talking about a woman who was taken by HYDRA before she even had a chance at a normal life. Groomed, weaponized, erased. And now, the world’s asking—what happens to her next?"

(Y/n)'s eyes widened for a moment by the wording, confusion settling within her, and Sam subtly became a bit uncomfortable. The woman continued, giving the camera a heavy frown.

"And let’s be honest, Erica—this country’s track record? It’s messy. You’ve got people out there who get it. Who’ve seen these institutions fail since before World War II. They’re angry. Furious, actually. And rightfully so."

A scene from the protest outside of the courthouse began to play, people holding up signs with slogans that included 'No More Secrets!' and 'GOVERNMENT = WAR CRIMES' and more. The news anchor, Erica, nodded thoughtfully before stating as she replied.

"Ms. Walters, the folks at home and the spectators within the court are saying 'Sure, it's tragic-but she's still a dangerous assassin; a killer.' What would you say to those folks?"

Jennifer frowned while replying, articulating her words by poking the table in front of her as her tone became low and serious.

"Sure, this may be true, but we have to remember that this was a woman who was subjugated to these things without choice. Let me remind these people and the folks at home to not forget the true narrative here: this wasn’t some rogue agent who turned evil. This was a kid, stolen from her life, trained to hurt people before she even had a chance to understand what choice meant."

Erica then replied, tapping her pen slightly as she asked the woman with an inquisitve look upon her face.

"But where does accountability come into this, Jen? We can't ignore the fact that people have died because of this woman and HYDRA. Innocent people."

Jennifer didn't hesitate, leaning forward slightly as she regarded the woman with a stern gaze before flickering her eyes to the camera; (Y/n) feeling as though she was looking directly at her and shrunk in on herself slightly.

"Accountability is important, yes, but we cannot scapegoat a victim of systemic abuse. What the public should be asking about is governmental transparency-the right to know what the hell our country is doing behind our backs. This isn't just about one woman, but a system that has failed us because of fear and desire for power."

Jennifer then glanced at Erica again, leaning back in her chair as she gestured candidly.

"Let me point out that this case wasn't just about (Y/n) (L/n). The defense tried to turn the spotlight onto Bucky Barnes out of a piss-poor attempt due to desperation. They knew they were losing, and they hoped that maybe Barnes' questionable past would distract the jury, but nobody was buying it. As we shouldn't. Facts don't lie. James Buchanan Barnes was used. (Y/n) (L/n) was used. We have to decide what kind of society that we want moving forward-one that punishes survivors, or one that protects them."

(Y/n) was looking down at her lap as Sam whistled lowly, impressed by the woman before he glanced at (Y/n). He observed the way she had detached herself from the screen and the words being spoken, and he comforted her gently.

"See? You've got a lot of people rooting for you."

"What if they still hate me?"

Sam pursed his lips, feeling a bit saddened by her words, and he shook his head.

"Some people aren't gonna like you. People hate what they don't understand and fear, but that doesn't mean that they are right. But what you can do is show them that you don't care. You're becoming the woman that you want to be, not who anybody is telling you to be."

(Y/n) furrowed her brows for a moment before she glanced back at the screen. Jennifer and Erica were beginning to dive more into the trial itself, dissecting the defense and prosecution thoroughly, and (Y/n) whispered softly.

"I...want to be good. I want...I want to be me again."

Sam's lips tugged gently, and he gently rubbed her back, the woman flinching slightly before relaxing for a second, glancing at Sam.

"That's just the first step, which means you're already doing pretty good, little lady."

(Y/n) nodded slightly, and her ears pricked at the sound of the lab doors opening again. Bucky came stalking in, looking angry and annoyed, and (Y/n) frowned with curiosity. Sam raised his brow, and simply asked.

"Let me guess: handy-dandy notebook?"

Bucky glared at Sam, huffing.

"What the hell do you think?"

Bucky really didn't want to answer the call, but Dr. Raynor always had a way of making him feel like a kid that just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar when he would ignore her calls. When he answered, Raynor's sarcastic voice immediately made him tense.

"Wow, he lives."

"You called me, so here I am. What the hell do you want, Raynor?"

Raynor paused for a moment, sighing before she stated, her tone gentle but still commanding as she spoke.

"I saw the trial, just like everyone else in the world. How are you feeling?"

He should have known she was going to attempt to make an impromptu therapy session. Running a hand through his hair, Bucky leaned against the wall, muttering.

"Just peachy."

Her tone became questioning and skeptical, her voice making Bucky purse his lips.

"Really? You sound like you're not happy about the verdict."

Bucky became offended, quipping stiffly.

"I'm not going to bother to reply to that. I'm worried about (Y/n). She saw the whole trial."

Raynor was quiet for a moment before she explained to him carefully.

"(Y/n) is not going to just heal overnight, especially when she doesn't have a professional to help her-"

Bucky cut her off, hissing out.

"She doesn't need a shrink right now."

"-She also doesn't need man that is also trying to heal from the horrible shit HYDRA did acting as her shrink either. And I'm telling you, James, that if you keep tying your trauma to hers, you're going to drown the both of you."

Bucky sucked in air through his teeth, his fist clenching before he tried to relax. Instead, Bucky decided to say to shift the conversation a bit.

"I just want her to be okay, alright? Am I such a fucking horrible person so much that I can't even offer to sit in the trenches with her? I get it. I'm still fucked up, but someone needs to be there that can actually understand her instead of a goddamn shrink that wants to hold pain over her fucking head like a diagnosis because that shrink will never fucking understand, Raynor."

In the background, he could hear Raynor's pen clicked, and once again, something snapped in Bucky. he couldn't understand why he was so protective; why he was so angry.

"What the hell is your problem, huh?"

There was a moment of silence before Raynor stated firmly.

"Listen, James, I'm not trying to be the enemy here. I understand that you care about her, maybe more than you realize, but you need to understand that yes, actually, (Y/n) does need a professional shrink. You and the Avengers can help her all that you want, but you guys aren't trained in this. Your jobs are to protect and save people from threats, not heal them. That's where I come in."

Raynor paused for a moment before she stated.

"I'm not trying to tell you that you are wrong for wanting to help her. I'm actually proud of you for even trying, but you're walking a very dangerous line that is going to cause more harm than good if you're not careful."

Bucky sighed heavily, shaking his head a little and leaning against the wall more as Raynor allowed him to process her words before she continued.

"I'm going to reach out to Mr. Stark and Mr. Rogers. I’m picking up her case—because you, and the rest of the world, need to know she's getting real help. Professional help. Like it or not, James, the world isn’t ready to understand her—at least, not the way she is now, and not without knowing that someone with credentials is in her corner."

Bucky couldn't deny that Raynor was right. Without the world knowing that (Y/n) was being helped by a professional, she wasn't going to be accepted. While yes, (Y/n) was always going to be scrutinized, Bucky knew that she deserved a chance-a really good and solid chance. Taking a deep breath, Bucky caved in a bit, stating quietly.

"Just...give me something to work with here, Raynor."

Raynor paused for a moment before she offered.

"Here’s what I can do: I’ll conduct a full evaluation to gauge where (Y/n) is in her rehabilitation. She won’t have to leave Wakanda—but I need to see her in person to understand exactly what I’m working with. Technically, I’m not even supposed to be doing this, James, so I’m stepping way out on a limb here. However, if (Y/n) gives her written consent, I’ll allow you to sit in on the sessions."

It was good enough for Bucky that he huffed before muttering.

"Fine, sounds good to me. Bye."

He immediately hung up, rubbing his hand over his face before he went back into the lab.

Bucky looked at (Y/n) who was staring at him with an observant look on her face, and Bucky sighed before sitting down across from her. (Y/n) instantly recognized his motion to address her, and she turned to him, tilting her head sllightly.

"What is it?"

Bucky puffed out his cheeks a bit before explaining.

"That was my therapist on the phone. She watched the whole trial too, and she...wants to help you just like she...helps...me."

The word was very loose, but (Y/n) didn't pick up on that fact. Sam, however, was looking skeptical and squinting at him from over (Y/n)'s shoulder. (Y/n) simply blinked, not seeming to react in any way for a moment before she became worried.

"I'm being taken away?"

Bucky's eyes widened and he shook his head, gesturing wildly by shaking his hands back and forth.

"No, no, absolutely not. Nobody is taking you away."

(Y/n) visibly relaxed, and Bucky continued.

"She wants to meet you...and if you allow it, help you on your mission to remember...to rehabilitate you. I can be there with you too, but Dr. Raynor needs written consent from you for that."

(Y/n) furrowed her brows as she began to think it over. For a moment, the room was silent before she asked him quietly.

"She will help? But...you don't...seem to like this woman. Is she a threat? Must I eliminate her?"

As tempted as Bucky was to say yes, he knew that would be the worst thing he could say at this moment. Instead, Bucky disagreed.

"No, no, she's not a threat and you don't have to...eliminate...her. Dr. Raynor and I...we just have differing opinions on a lot of things. But I think that...maybe...she can help you where I can't."

Suddenly, tears filled (Y/n)'s eyes, and Bucky immediately felt like shit despite not knowing what he had said. (Y/n) then whimpered as she seemed to curl in on herself.

"I don't want you to leave me."

Bucky felt the wind get knocked out of him, and he comforted gently, gently rubbing her shoulder carefully as she sniffled.

"Oh, doll, I'm not going anywhere. Alright? I'll be there with you the whole time."

(Y/n) sniffled again, looking at Bucky with a hopeful expression.

"You will...complete this mission with me?"

Bucky nodded, giving her a small and comforting smile.

"You don't think I'd leave my best girl behind, do you?"

His words struck something in (Y/n), and he watched as her eyes lit up a bit. His heart stopped, however, when the corners of (Y/n)'s lips ticked up, and he suddenly felt like he couldn't breathe. In this moment, everything seemed to fall away for a brief second that felt like ages.

It was the first time (Y/n) (L/n) had ever smiled at him, and oh, was it lovely.

-

STORY NOTES: In Wakanda, Bucky and Sam are watching the court trial live on a holographic screen in Shuri's lab. While Sam is seemingly confidant about the trial, Bucky is anxious. He is worried that HYDRA will use this opportunity to make a statement of their continued operation. (Y/n) is nowhere to be found, presumably with T'Challa as the men watch the livestream. Once (Y/n)'s existence is exposed during the court case, Bucky becomes upset and even more anxious. He worries that now that the world is aware of her, they will demonize her the same way that they demonized him; making her transition into the public even more difficult once the time comes. When Steve's time on the stand comes and his is being cross-examined by the defense attorney, Bucky becomes angry as the man attempts to shift the focus onto Bucky.

When the court goes into its first recess, Sam tries to comfort Bucky by telling the man that he has nothing to worry about. However, Bucky refuses and tells Sam that he isn't worried about the case itself. He reveals to Sam that he is worried about how the public is going to receive (Y/n) and how she will live a normal life once everything comes to an end. Sam is unable to give Bucky a response, and the focus shifts back to the court trial. When Tony is called to the stand, Bucky and Sam are shocked.

After Tony and Shuri's testimonies, the clips of (Y/n)'s recorded memories are played, and Bucky is instantly affected. He becomes furious and disgusted, appalled with Rollins and the treatment that (Y/n) faced, and Sam is unable to watch. When Bucky notices that Jack Rollins smiled through each clip, the fury becomes deeper, the ghost of the Winter Soldier making a very subtle appearance. Sam tells Bucky that there wasn't a possibility that Rollins nor Holloway were going to walk away, but Bucky states that he 'should have just killed him'. Sam tells Bucky, however, that if he had, none of what had happened would have come to light.

Once the jury and Judge return from deliberation and recess, Sam and Bucky are both relieved that Rollins and Holloway are both found guilty. As the news outlet covering the case switches to the news anchor, the news anchor shows the clip of Tony and the reporter from outside of the courthouse. Bucky becomes angry again at the question that the reporter asked Tony, but is mildly amused when Tony retorts 'Fuck this guy' and leaves the scene. Then, Bucky notices (Y/n) watching through the reflection of the screen. Sam immediately pauses the stream as Bucky greets (Y/n), and (Y/n) is shocked to find her image on the screen.

It's revealed that she had watched the trial the whole time, surprised by the fact that the trial was mainly about her, and Bucky explains that it was to make Jack Rollins and Director Holloway pay for what they did to her. (Y/n) is surprised that the Avengers fought for her justice, and Sam simply states that they all did. Suddenly, Bucky's phone rings, and he is forced to leave the room to answer the call. Sam and (Y/n) are left alone together, and (Y/n) asks if they can continue to watch the livestream of the news. Sam agrees and begins to play the stream again. On the news, Jennifer Walters aka She-Hulk makes an appearance to legally analyze the case for the media.

Jennifer makes sure to highlight the fact that (Y/n) was a victim and is not the enemy while pointing out the importance of governmental accountability and transparency. Jennifer also makes sure to point out the defense's desperate move to highlight Bucky's past with HYDRA, and states that both Bucky and (Y/n) were victims of HYDRA. Sam tries to comfort (Y/n) by telling her that people are rooting for her, but (Y/n) is worried about the hatred she is facing. Sam tells her that people are not always going to like her and that she can fight back by continuing to be the woman she wants to be. Bucky comes back, and when asked by Sam if it was Dr. Raynor, Bucky confirms this.

The focus shifts onto a flashback of the conversation between Dr. Raynor and Bucky. Raynor informs Bucky that she watched the trial and asks him how he is feeling about it. Bucky gives Raynor a vague response, and when she asks if he's not happy with the verdict, Bucky becomes offended and reveals that he's worried about (Y/n) since she watched the whole trial. Raynor points out that (Y/n) will not heal overnight without a professional, and when Bucky snaps that she doesn't need a therapist at this moment, Raynor claps back by telling Bucky that (Y/n) didn't need a broken man acting as her therapist either.

Bucky becomes frustrated, asking Raynor if he was so horrible of a person that he wasn't allowed to be there for (Y/n). He argues that while he knows that he is still healing himself, he also understands the importance of having someone who can empathize with the situation instead of having someone 'hold their pain over their head like a diagnosis'. Raynor then tells Bucky that she's not trying to be the enemy. She points out the necessity for a professional therapist for (Y/n) and tells him that it's not in the Avengers nor Bucky's training to help her heal. She then adds that she's not trying to say Bucky is wrong for helping her, but that in doing so, it could cause problems for both parties.

Raynor further adds that she is going to reach out to Steve and Tony to officially become (Y/n) therapist and points out the importance of the world knowing that she is receiving professional help so she has a better chance at being accepted into society. When Bucky finally agrees, Raynor tells him that with (Y/n)'s written consent, she would allow Bucky to accompany (Y/n) to these therapy sessions. In the present, Bucky informs (Y/n) of this development, and (Y/n) assumes that she is being taken away. Bucky comforts her and tells her that nobody is taking her away, but that Raynor might be able to help her better than he can. (Y/n) becomes worried again and emotional, telling Bucky that she doesn't want him to leave her, and Bucky comforts her once more. When (Y/n) is comforted, she smiles her very first smile at Bucky. End scene.

TRANSLATIONS:

None

TAGLIST: @buckvoidsyy @chonkybonky @seemsxsketchy @tilldeathripsusapart @vicmc624 @mgchaser @aash3 @samfunko @seventeen-x @valckenaux @babybeeelle @sc4rrc @cjand10 @bane-y-zane @notsostrangerthing @thenameswinter99 @bumblebeebutter @torntaltos

[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..."

[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…”

[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.

[hanflowers]

pairing: ꒰ l. castellan x apollo's daughter reader ꒱

genre: fluff

warning: like, one swear word

summary: you never forget to send luke castellan daily poems.

a/n: bye, i literally wrote the poem here...sorry if it sucks guys 😜😜

you've never failed to cheer him up even at his worst moments. and today was one of those tiring moments.

luke entered the cabin, looking tired as ever. the day had just finished—for him and the sun's at least. the moon's was just beginning—casting its evening glow at the camp, its rays entering the window panes.

he was met by his lover, sitting on his bed, waiting patiently. [name] didn't realize he entered, too busy perfecting her daily poem for her one and only.

luke immediately sank into you, resting his tired head on your shoulder. "love," you whispered, taking his hand. he hums in response.

"how was your day, hm?" you ask while playing with his fingers. "terrible." he whispers into the crook of your neck.

"want to talk about it?" you stopped playing with his hands and now turned to look at him. hearing no response from luke, you assume he doesn't want to talk about it.

"come on, let's go outside. i've got just the thing to make you feel better!" you chuckle, cupping his face and giving his oh so sweet lips a peck.

he still doesn't say anything but he follows you, locking his fingers with yours.

the walk was silent and you stopped by your cabin. "wait here for a bit, pretty boy."

you entered your cabin and as promised, returned quickly. but now, you had something in your hands. a lyre.

"okay, now, quick! let's go." you took his hand again leading him somewhere. after a while, luke now knows where you're going. he's very familiar with the path as this is where you go all the time.

whether it may be secret dates or just meet ups—he loves that place because he spends most of his time there with you.

"and, we're here!" the two of you sat by the lake, finding solace in the calmness of the stars illuminating the sky.

it was silent. but the good kind of silence, where the two of you just understood. luke had his head on your shoulder and you had your head on top of his.

"thank you," he whispers, finally breaking the silence. "hm? for what?" you ask.

"for cheering me up and being with me." he never failed to compliment and praise you every single day even if he was tired or anything—he'd never go to sleep without thanking and telling you how much he loves you.

"but, i'm not done yet." you face him and caress his cheek. you take out your lyre.

"did you know, your father, hermes, gave apollo the lyre?" luke nods and chuckles in response. you prepare your lyre and take out a piece of paper as you begin to recite your poem.

you're my everything

my everything

to see you

i'll do anything

anything

let's lie down

watch the stars

embrace each flaw

and heal our scars

in the quiet hours

in the moonlit skies

hand in hand

we dance through time

a symphony of hearts

a melody that rhymes

as you finished, you noticed luke's breathing was slow and relaxed. 'he must have fallen asleep. should i return to the cabin or nah?'

"ah, fuck it. we're sleeping here."

bonus:

"isn't that luke?"

"what are they doing here?"

"aww, they look so cute!"

*camera flashes*

yeah, it was sort of, maybe, kind of a bad idea to sleep by the lake.

[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.

[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.

[redrayvenrr]

Y'all are sleeping on Sweets headcanons, so I am here to pick up the slack (which ended up becoming a long rant, and I'm not sorry)

-Sweets' bitch from another ditch Gael is a tattoo artist, y'all know Sweets is Gael's test dummy

Sweets is probably covered head to toe in the randomists tattoos. They got at least one full sleeve, 7 of them are incomplete, and maybe like 3-5 of them are actually ones Sweets wanted

But I offer you Nat coloring Sweets' tattoos to the point where Sweets buys her temporary tattoo markers for her birthday

-Essence Eaters live longer than the average person, right? So Sweets could easily be twice Law's age but is still making fun of him and calling him an old man despite him being in his 20's (imagine Sweets being born in the 70's-80's and Law 90's-early 2000's XD Sweets is very happy that ripped jeans are back in style)

I also imagine Sweets with longer hair because at some point they decided that going to get a hair cut every month or so is too much of a hassle for how long their life span is (and I offer you Sweets eventually needing to dye their hair grey to match Law's so they still look like a couple to non-attuned (I'm not sorry))

Also, remember that in the "getting patched up-" video Law says that "this doesn't look like one of the little scuffles you do for fun at the circle"???? Hello??? Street fighter Sweets??? Go kick ass Sweets you got this baby

-And scars?? I'd imagine they'd obviously have the few you get from childhood, and if we're going with street fighter Sweets, then they probably have a bit more than normal. Like on their knuckles and maybe one on their cheek/forehead/lip/ankles or something. But ya know, it's just for fun, and every once in a while, they're not addicted to fighting or anything

But then the fight with Joel? Joel was out for blood, and Sweets practically died. There are definitely scars, one of which I imagine being a scratch over their eye cause I'm edgy like that (plus it makes sense that Joel would use everything in his arsenal to take down the all powerful Sweets which means nails and playing dirty).

But there is definitely a bite scar since he drained Sweets' lifeforce, which is why they were so concerned about Law getting scarred after the train incident. They don't want him living through that pain they feel every time they see their own bite scar (and ya know they can't live with the idea of hurting Law so "please at least don't let my mistakes scar")

-And speaking of the train incident Law stated that Sweets is strong as all hell and I'm here for it and I need them to crush a watermelon and Law looses his shit (buff Sweets for the wiiiin)

-Sweets' heartbeat was already a comfort for Law, but after Joel, you'll often find Law pressed against their heart. Cuddling on Sweets' chest is a must. When Law has a bad day, Sweets immediately presses him against their chest. Hugs often are one of Law's arms wrapped around them and his other hand press against their chest. Law sitting in between Sweets' legs so he can lean his back or shoulder against their heart

-I think it would be funny if Sweets also had an accent (like Bitish or Scottish or some shit) and everyone enjoys watching Nat struggle with her own accent because she'd have the weirdest mix of her father's southern, her mother's average american, and Sweets' (maybe a bit of uncle desdes)

(And while we're talking about Nat, when are we getting her dog!??! Please, I need the household to just become Spy X Family)

-Can we talk about how good Sweets is with kids? Where did you pick that up? Cause I just always imagined them as an orphaned only child? Like I physically can't see them with a family before Law and Nat, but maybe that's just me

(Maybe they grew up in foster homes and were always the older sibling of the group? Idk)

-One order of Sweets being good at the guitar and singing, strumming their guitar while Law plays the piano and singing Nat to sleep please

Sweets being in a band as a teen in the 80's/90's sounds like good blackmail for Gage to abuse (especially the hair) (but like imagine them doing a killer rift then proceeding to sing Def Leppard)

-I think their job would be like a metal worker or glass blowing, and I don't have an explanation as to why

-Sweets honestly feels like the most responsible and mature person out of all the characters they're just shit at taking care of themself and, say it with me: ✨️traumatized✨️

-I also imagine Sweets as a male, but that's my own problem

But imagine Nat finally calling them dad, and they just combust

Plus Sweets feels like one of those dads who drops a piece of lore then never speaks of it again (whereas Law is the hands on hips, legs apart dad pose (you know the one I'm talking about))

The idea of Sweets being "one of the guys" with Law's coworkers gives me life (because yes Love/Newbie is also a male cause if Desmond isn't just a pure gay man then you're wrong (honestly like 90% the listeners are male in my head)idk)

[aesthetictarlos]

Hold my hand, hold my heart as well

Rated G | 525 words | tooth rotting fluff

Written for @bucktommyfluffebruary day one prompt: non sexual intimacy.

I didn't plan to join Fluffebruary since I'm the one running the event but I can't stay away from my beloved fluff so here we go, just a ficlet I wrote in half an hour to celebrate our boys.

Read below or on AO3

Buck's never been a movie enthusiast but he enjoys movie nights with Tommy. His boyfriend is a bit nerdy when it comes to movies and Buck is more than happy to indulge him as they go through a list Tommy made because “there are movies you absolutely have to watch, babe.”

Most of all, he adores seeing Tommy so relaxed and comfortable as they snuggle up on the couch, bodies pressed together and a giant bowl of popcorn balanced precariously between them.

Tonight they're watching Notting Hill and he’s enjoying it - the plot and a young Hugh Grant - but it doesn't matter if he actually likes the movie they're watching or not, at some point he starts to get restless, unable to sit still.

They're halfway through the first part of the movie when he starts fidgeting with one of his hoodie strings, rolling it between his fingers.

Tommy, oh-so sweet Tommy, obviously notices and subtly moves his hand, resting it on top of his thigh and squeezing, a silent invitation that Buck doesn't miss because it's a habit, an established routine by now. When he gets restless, he holds Tommy's hand and plays with his fingers instead of torturing his own or the poor loose thread on his sweatpants.

Turning his head, he presses a soft kiss to Tommy's neck and then traces the veins on the back of his hand, reverently, one by one.

Buck loves Tommy’s big, warm, capable hands. He loves having them on his body, gentle fingers skimming across his skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He loves how perfectly their fingers fit together, loves how gentle Tommy is with his touch.

When they shook hands for the first time, Buck appreciated his firm but soft squeeze and the feeling of his callouses against his own but he had no idea that it was only the beginning. He had no idea that holding hands with Tommy would make him feel so safe, so loved, so complete, like two puzzle pieces finally sliding into place.

It's been a while since that first time, but the feeling is still the same and holding Tommy’s hand always calms him down instantly, especially when he's feeling restless.

He knows the palm and the back of Tommy's hand better than his own by now, so even if his eyes are fixed on the screen, he traces the tiny scars on Tommy's skin, the adorable mole on his third knuckle, the lines on his palm. He grazes every inch of his smooth skin, committing Tommy's hand to memory all over again.

When he's done with his gentle touching, he lets his lips take over, pressing them against Tommy's pulse point, along the thick veins on his wrist. He presses a kiss to his palm and then turns his hand so he can graze every knuckle, lingering on his ring finger, a promise of forever floating around them.

“I love you,” Buck whispers, still clutching Tommy's hand, pressing it against his chest as he settles back down, feeling warm all over as Tommy holds him close, brushing a kiss on his birthmark.

“I love you too, Evan.”

[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. 

[codenamearchangel]

Prompt: Shepard manages to destoy the reapers with the Crucible, but her whereabouts are unknown. A day after the end of the war, you get an automatically delivered farewell note from her.

[AUTOMATIC EMAIL] [TO: vakariang@mailserver.com] [FROM: shepard2154@alliancemail.net] [SUBJECT: If you get this]

Garrus, I'm sitting here writing this to you while you're asleep next to me. Every time you twitch or mumble in your sleep, I stop for a second to make sure you don't find me writing this. You know I would never keep anything from you--ever. But this is an email I never thought I'd have to write. Well, I didn't ever want to write it. I think you know where this is going. I figured out how to get this to send automatically from my omni-tool in the event that I…flatlined. I don't know how else to say it. So, yeah, if you're getting this… I'm sorry. I've just got a few things to say.

When we met I thought you were just another hard-ass like every other turian I had met throughout my career. But you were dedicated, committed to doing the right thing and following the rules, even if you didn't always agree with them. It was that turian sense of duty you've mentioned to me many times.

Anyways, I'll admit now that I developed a crush on you right then. It was something about the way you shook my hand. It was a firm handshake, as it should have been, but for a moment I found myself wondering if you were gentle, too. I didn't tell anyone, of course. I didn't want to make things awkward between us or the rest of the squad. So, I put you in the back of my mind and moved on. I even tried to have a serious relationship with Kaidan at one point, but I can honestly say that I never felt for him the way I feel for you.

And then I died for the first time. You know how they say your whole life flashes before your eyes in your final moments? Well, it's true. I saw everyone. Ash, Kaidan, Liara…and you. The last thing I remember was your face. I don't think I've ever told you that before.

I obviously didn't know I was going to be resurrected. When the Illusive Man told me I needed to assemble a squad, I asked about your whereabouts. You had disappeared completely, and I was going to accept that and had accepted that until you shot me in the shoulder on Omega. I couldn't see you from where I was standing, but I thought, "Someone wasn't trying to kill me just now. Why shoot at me at all?" Finding you there started out as a dream, and for a moment I thought I was still dead. I've never been one to believe in fate or destiny, but something brought us together again.

The next thing I knew, you were lying in a pool of blood, lifeless, and I didn't know what to do. Mordin muttered something about you not making it, but I ignored him. If being spaced didn't put me down permanently, a rocket to the face wouldn't take you out. You were a fighter. You always had been, and you always will be.

I never expected you to have any feelings for me. That first time I flirted with you in the main battery I was just testing the waters. You stammered, completely thrown off-guard. So, I kept flirting, kept pushing, kept trying to see how far you would actually want to go. When you came up to my cabin the night before we hit the Omega-4 Relay I had no expectations, but also no idea what the hell to do, either. I'm glad we eventually figured it out.

I got an email from you while I was incarcerated. Well, I got it eventually. I was relieved to know that you hadn't forgotten about me or our time together. Having the opportunity to team up with you again was all I could have asked for. And when we finally got a chance to talk privately, you said you wondered if I still had feelings for you. How couldn't I? And yeah, the scars do drive me wild. You were different, and only in good ways. You were a different man than any man I had ever met. Like I said, the last thing I saw before I took my last breath was your face.

And…I guess that's where we're at now. I've been trying to get the courage to tell you something, but I don't know if I can. So, I'm telling you now.

I love you.

I've loved you for years. And now that I'm gone and likely won't be brought back to life a second time, I want you to know that my last thoughts were of you, again. I just know they were. I didn't just pursue this mission for the greater good of the galaxy…I did it for you. Dying wasn't part of the original plan. As I sit here next to you as you sleep, I can tell you that I realized tonight that dying might be the only way to save everyone; to save you.

If there's something beyond this realm, I'll see you there. Just--not any time soon, okay?

I love you, Garrus. I always will. I should have told you in person. I don't know, maybe I'll still get the chance. Even if I don't, I think you already knew. I think you've always known. You've always been there for me, believed in me when no one else did, trusted me when no one else trusted me, and never hesitated to join me for anything and everything.

It was a hell of a ride and I'm glad you were in the passenger seat.

Love, Shepard

[SAVE MESSAGE Y/N]

[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.)

[tothosewholisten]

Forever Healed | TUA insert

Chapter: 12

<<previous chapter | next chapter>>

Masterlist

…

Once I left Five I returned to Diego’s car, where he’d been sitting, just waiting for something to happen. “Hey,” I said softly as I sat in the passenger's seat. He only grumbled in response and looked out the window.

“Where are you gonna go?” I asked. He once again didn't respond, and I started to think maybe this was a bad idea. “Dieg-“

“Why are you here?” He cuts me off coldly while enunciating every syllable of what he says.

“I just wanted to see if you're okay and help you if you need it. What you saw was traumatic, and you shouldn’t be going through it on your ow-“

He looks me dead in my eyes. “Nobody needs your fucking help, Y/n.”

We were silent, the only thing I heard was his heart racing and the sound of his heavy breathing. I can't even tell if he regrets what he said. It doesn't matter because I'm sure he means it.

But I chalk it up to tensions being high after Five told us everything, it hurts though. In a way, no scar has ever hurt before. I try to come up with some snarky thing to say back like I always do. Younger me would’ve had a field day cursing him out and leaving. But now I just sit there and look down at the car floor.

“Nothing to say?” He taunts. “What happened to that mean little girl who used to try and put me in my place? Is she gone?”

Maybe he's just an asshole.

“…” I keep my eyes on the floor not wanting to make eye contact. I should just leave, I thought to myself, he doesn't want my help.

But I didn't want anyone’s help when Ben died, I pushed everyone away. But Diego isn’t me. I finally came up with something. “I understand how you feel Diego.”

“Bullshit.” He yells.

“You feel like your world is collapsing around you. That what you love the most is gone and the only way to replace the empty hole you have is to fill it with something worse. Just to keep going, whether it's drugs or killing or meaningless relationships to distract yourself. We do it to stay sane, but it doesn't have to be like that. Don’t close yourself off from the people around you, the Diego I know wouldn't.”

What I said came straight from the heart and how I felt after Ben died. I stayed in my room all day and broke things, but at night I was sneaking off with Klaus to get high. I even went as far as refusing to use my powers for Reginald. My lowest point.

And when I moved out my problems did not end there. I was alone in the world, I attached myself to the first guy that showed me any interest. That did more harm than good. I only recognize that this isn’t who I wanted to be when the relationship was gruesomely ended.

I sighed. “I'm far from perfect Diego, everyone is. Her death will stick with you forever. Let me at least try to lighten that burden.” The same way Klaus and I tried to do for each other. “I understand if you want me to leave though.” Since he stayed silent, I got the hint and reached for the door handle but I was stopped by a gloved arm.

Diego was no longer stoic, his posture had gone slouched as tears dropped from his big eyes. “I loved her.” He whispered.

“I know.”

“Sorry, Y-Y/n I didn't mean to be a jackass.” Diego stuttered.

I nodded “I understand.”

Once his sniffling calmed down, he told me that he would usually never cry in front of anyone but it felt good to get it out around me.

Diego explained how he and Eudora weren’t together at the time but had a deep and convoluted past that spanned during his time at the police academy and after. But she still found a way to enter his life, around when he was tased by her at Griddy’s the night Five came back for disturbing the crime scene there.

But still, no matter how much I tried to persuade him, Diego wanted to hunt Hazel and Cha-Cha down. To get even in his words even if he knew it wouldn't bring her back.

Diego had a receipt from Griddy’s, one of the items that he had taken from the motel room. The only thing ordered was a jelly donut, which didn't seem out of the ordinary.

But he tried to connect it to what happened to Eudora anyway while forming a plan in his head on what to do next. And all I could think about was how disgusting jelly donuts are.

“We're going back to the academy.” He told me. I shuttered thinking about heading back there.

“Y/n, what's wrong?”

“It’s just that we still don’t know where Klaus is, what if he’s still out there? Alone. What if he can’t find his way back to their academy?” I rambled.

“There was no sign of him at the motel. Knowing him he made his way back to the academy and is just taking a bath or doing drugs or something.. okay? No need to worry. And if not, we’ll go look for him.”

I nodded in response. “You’re probably right.” I mean Eudora technically freed him, if anything he’s looking for us instead.

..

13 YEARS AGO

I lay in bed staring at my ceiling trying to tune out the blaring screech that echoed around my room.

I heard the sound of feet running against the hardwood floor, I knew I needed to get up but I didn't. I missed the early workout, and I missed breakfast but who cares? No matter how much Reginald yelled for me to get up I didn't.

Once again It was time for another tiring mission but I could never complain, not ever. I was put on this planet to save the world as Reginald described it time and time again.

But I hated the world and all the people in it. Because the world took away Ben and after his funeral which was only a few days ago, I was expected to stop crying and go back to killing myself. A job I never signed up for. So I just stopped doing it.

A gentle knock at my room door broke my concentration. Even amongst all the commotion in my house, there was one person who would also stay in their room.

"Come in," I grumbled to Vanya who stood at the other side of the door.

She took care in opening the door and made sure no one, especially Reginald would see her breaking the rules.

I inhaled sharply hoping if she knew I was in a bad mood she'd just go away. But she didn't. She stood there concerned all over her face.

"What do you want, Vanya?" I practically yelled.

She shifted her eyes from me to her shoes. "I uh. I just wanted to ask if you're okay."

"Do I look okay?"

She didn't respond.

It was clear her focus was slipping from me, she wanted to leave this uncomfortable situation.

And not surprisingly, she turned her back to me and quickly sped out the door. She didn't even give me a final glance. I could've said something but I chose to take my pillow and scream. I marked today as the worst day of my life.

I held my fluffy pillow up to my face and squeezed down hoping to suffocate. The suicidal urge didn't last long because my pillow was lifted off my face by small hands. By Vanya of all people. Who'd made her way back through my door without me noticing?

Her face painted with a smile, "I know it's not breakfast time but Mom insisted that I bring you something to eat. I made these.”

My eyes met hers as she grabbed onto my pajamas. Vanya scooted my body up against the pillow I tried to silence my misery with.

In her hands she had two sandwiches, I instantly knew they were peanut butter and marshmallow because that was her greatest creation and my favorite late-night snack

My mouth hung open slightly. "You made this for me?" I asked.

"Of course!" She handed me a sandwich.

Any anger I still had in me washed away at that moment. What I was left with could only be described as love. Vanya spent all day with me for the most part. We talked a bit about life, but mainly we just sat in each other's silence. It was good to know I didn't have to be alone while grieving Ben. I'd forgotten that all of the kids lost him, not just me.

Looking back, being sixteen years old was a nightmare. Especially when I was left to my own devices.

For the remainder of my time at the academy, I refused to go on missions and I guess Reginald deemed me a lost cause at some point because The Umbrella Academy officially became five people again. While I spent all my new free time in my room.

..

PRESENT TIME

The first place I headed for when I got back to the academy was our rooms. I wanted to go into Klaus just to see if there were any hints of if he ever came back. Diego stopped me at the bottom of the stairs.

He raised an eyebrow “Where are you going?”

“I'll meet up with you after you get your knives. I'm gonna look in Klaus’s room again.” He gave me a sad look as he turned away from my direction. We both knew that I wouldn't find anything new there. But I still needed to try.

I needed Klaus, not just to see if he was safe. But the fact that he’s one of the only people who makes me feel like I can talk to them about all the crazy stuff going on. Because we share a lot of the same experiences. I should’ve probably told him from the jump that the world was ending, I bet he’d give it a good laugh.

Klaus’s door was wide open, definitely not like I left it. And when I walked in it looked almost neater. Grace wouldn’t be the one to clean it because she’s, well, gone. And Pogo wouldn’t step foot in his normally dirty room.

So who's been cleaning it? Unless I did this subconsciously and discovered a new power.

I could hear everyone’s hearts beating around the house, so I counted the amount of people. There was Diego and Pogo, and Five who had just gotten here. And another.. familiar but sporadic. Something that I've heard a million times, and something that was getting extremely close to me.

I whip my head towards the door and see none other than Klaus Hargreeves in the doorway, half naked and ticked off. His expression wiped the smile clean off my face.

Klaus was dripping head to toe in water, but he was here just like Diego said he’d be.

But even though he was here and seemingly unharmed, I was still worried when he didn't say anything to me. All he did was groan while he clumsily walked over in his towel and he picked up some random clothes on his floor.

This switch in personality made me speechless as well. I turned away from Klaus as he dropped his towel. With no regard that I was even in his room.

“Why are you acting like I’m not here?” I crossed my arms with my eyes still averted from the sight. I went back to looking at him when he slipped his faint blue v-neck over his head.

“You might as well not be.” He stated. ��I mean like, here you are in my room on my bed. Not even phased by the fact that you haven’t seen me for a year. Hell, even before I was kidnapped by those crazy shits I've barely seen you.”

“A year?”

“Did you even notice I was gone?”

He and I spoke at the same time, saying two different things.

I wanted to yell at him. Of course, I knew and I was worried, but he was right. How would he know that he’s been on my mind since the night of the attack? When I seemed to be the only person who noticed or paid any mind to him at all.

I took a breath to conceal my frustration. “I knew right when I didn’t see you after the attack. I looked all over the city for you. But you’re right, I've been busy recently. Because fuck, Klaus a lot is going on right now. Stuff I should’ve told you at the start but I was so wrapped up in all of it. Last night, Diego and I found the motel and thought you’d be there.”

“But we found Eudora, I mean the officer who freed you. But no sign of you.”

Klaus’s normal excited look on life didn't return to him when I explained what happened. But his glare melted away. “What happened to her?”

“She’s dead, Klaus. And I couldn’t bring her back. Unlike you I can’t bring people back from the dead.” I laughed sadly at the events that unfolded around me. His eyes wandered to the spot next to me on his bed, but there was nothing there?

I pretended to yawn to choke back resurfacing tears. God, I cry all the damn time. “Tell me what happened to you?”

“Well they weren't the most gracious host.” He said sarcastically. “They wanted information on Five but I told them over and over again that everyone ignores me or doesn’t tell me things. And yeah, I came back here after I escaped through the vents which wasn't a pleasant experience at all. Wouldn’t recommend it.”

I didn't want to push my luck but I could tell there was a part of his capture he didn’t include because of the flucture of his heartbeat and the fact he couldn’t look me in the eyes.

“Klaus, can I tell you something?” I responded quietly.

He looks around the room. “Oh yeah, don’t have anything else going on today.”

The best approach isn’t to sugarcoat it. “The world is ending in four days, that's why Five is back because he’s here to prevent it. But people are going after him, like Hazel and Cha-Cha to make sure it still happens. And turns out I survived it, and live on in the future..?”

“Sounds like loads of fun!” He cheers sarcastically.

“Klaus the world is ending.”

“Well it has to end eventually, I just betted on it being global warming.”

“You betted?”

“Of course. Me and Linda from the nursing home, bet weekly.”

My body releases all of the previous tension and I explode into a loud laughter. “How am I supposed to take you seriously? You’re hilarious” I cried out.

Klaus shows off his teeth when he smiled. “Just one of my many charms I guess.”

“I missed you so much,” I giggled.

Once again he turns to the opposite corner of the room. “We missed you too” he whispers.

“We-

“Great, you found him Y/n.” Five glanced into the room with his hands in his pockets. I was too busy to even hear him walk in.

He looks back and forth from the disheveled Klaus and me. “You okay?” He asked him.

“Yeah.. just a long night.” He replied drowsily.

“More than one by the looks of it. I don’t remember the dog tags..” Five points out.

I stare at the shiny dangling tags on his neck. “Huh, me neither.” How did I not notice that?

Klaus grunts at the both of us. “They belong to a friend.”

Five starts a strange interrogation of Klaus. “How about that new tattoo?”

“You know, I don’t totally remember even getting it. Like I said, it was a long night.” Klaus jesters for him to leave but he doesn’t stop there.

“You did it didn’t you?” Five moves closer as Klaus sits on the bed next to me. I started to get confused.

Based on the room and Klaus I hope Five wasn't getting the wrong idea. “We didn- I mean. What are you talking about?”

“I recognize the symptoms, Klaus.”

“Symptoms of what?”

“The jet lag. The full body itch. The headache that feels like someone shoved a box of cotton up into your nose and through your brain?”

Klaus hides his head in his hands. “Your pals, when they broke into the house and they couldn’t find you, they took me hostage instead.”

Five smiles while thinking maniacally. “And in return, you stole their briefcase!”

“Yeah, I thought there was money in it, or I could pawn it, you know, whatever.” He sighed. “And then I opened it.”

The boy paced around the room. “And the next thing you knew, you were.. where? Or should I say when?”

“What difference does it make, Five?”

Five stammers “What diff— Uh— Okay, how long were you gone?”

“Almost a year.” Klaus chokes out.

“That's what you meant by a year? Okay, am I the only one who isn’t following?”

Five stares at me in desperation. “You don’t know what this means?”

“Yeah, I’m ten months older now.”

“No. This isn’t a joke, both of you pay attention now. Hazel and Cha-Cha will do whatever they can to get the briefcase. Where is it now?” Five checks around the room, for any resemblance of what he’s looking for.

“Gone. I destroyed it. Poof.”

Five goes from excited to furious in seconds. “What the hell were you thinking?!” He shouts.

“What do you care?” Klaus says back. By now the two of them are in each other's faces.

“What do I care? I needed it, you moron, so I could get back. I can start over. So I can save y-“ Klaus shushes him when he stands up. “Where are you going?” Five calls after him.

“Interrogations over. Just leave.” He walks out of the room and down the hallway, away from us.

Five turns to me and where I've been slugged over on the bed. “Why does no one listen?” He asks me, well more like yells in my direction.

“Who likes being shouted at? I mean you didn't even give him a second to breathe, Five. He just came back from shit we can’t even imagine.” I swung my feet off the bed and headed out of the room to find Klaus or Diego who I forgot I'd be helping.

Surprisingly I found the two together, Klaus and Diego were standing in front of the crushed chandler that would normally hang on the ceiling but was destroyed when the house was attacked. The two both looked extremely worn out when I walked over to them.

“I'm not giving you a ride,” Diego told the man in front of him. But Klaus moves in closer in desperation. “Oh come on man, you know I can’t drive.”

“We can give you a ride Klaus, it's fine right, Diego?” I stare him down but his unwavering decision doesn’t falter. “Well fine, I’ll drive him if you don’t want to.”

They both cringe at my statement. “No way I’m letting you drive my car, don’t forget that you can’t drive either.” Diego says.

“Yeah sorry Y/n, I’m actually good. I don’t want to die today.” Klaus adds.

I smirk. “Exactly, this is why you should just take him instead.”

Diego thinks for a minute before responding. “Fine.” He grumbles.

“Amazing! Let me go grab my things, two minutes. Thank you, N/n sweetie.” Klaus grabs onto my shoulders and gives me a good shake before running back up the staircase to grab god knows what.

“What could he be getting?” I turned to Diego.

“Anything he could snort probably.” I punched the smug Diego in the arm. “Shit!” He cries out.

I shake my head at him. “That was rude, you ass.” Before walking out the front doors to wait in the car. Diego slowly trails after me while rubbing his now glowing arm.

..

The car ride was silent for the most part, except for the occasional small talk Diego made with me. But Klaus who sat in the back seat didn’t speak a single word. He just looked out of the window to the cloudy afternoon and drank hard liquor that he must’ve grabbed from his room before we left.

Diego and I didn't know exactly where we were driving him, but he told us he’d say something when we arrived.

I desperately wanted to know what happened to him in the almost year that he was gone. But he didn't look ready to open up just yet.

“You okay back there?” I asked. He answered with another sip of his beverage.

Diego takes a look at him through the rearview mirror. “Wow. This is a first. My brother Klaus is silent. The last time you were this quiet, we were twelve. Ran down the stairs wearing Grace's heels, tripped over, and broke your jaw. How long was it wired shut again?”

“Eight weeks,” I replied. That was one of my first impressions of Klaus, and I felt really bad for him. But Reginald wouldn't let me heal him. Told me that Klaus needed to learn a lesson.

“Eight glorious weeks of bliss.” And just like when he couldn’t talk, he’s silent when Diego says that. Doesn't even respond with a snarky comment. Instead, he straightens up in his seat and points out his window.

“Hey, just.. just drop me off here.” The two of us in the front seats look to where he’s pointing, he wanted us to drop him off at a VFW post. The building was strangely out of place and surrounded by normal buildings. But despite the weirdness Diego cuts traffic and parks his car in the lot.

Klaus bolted out of the car, bottle in hand as soon as we parked. “Klaus?” I called out

“Are you sure you're okay, man?” Diego adds.

The car door shuts before we ever hear a response. That is if he even said anything. Diego gives me a look. “Okay, what is going on with him?” He asked me.

“This might sound crazy, but then again we all have powers. When Klaus left Hazel and Cha-Cha he stole this time-traveling device. And he opened it which sent him somewhere for almost a year. Which explains the new tattoo and dog tags. My guess is he went back in time and fought in a war.”

His eyes widened. “Jesus.. that's woah.. that's a lot. But we should do something right?”

“Like go after him?” Which is what I was gonna do anyway. He nods at me sharing my same opinion. Soon after, we’re both leaving the car and heading to the building ourselves.

“Oh my god it's cold,” I complained. Diego chuckles at me while opening the door for us.

…

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