#i find myself rubbing the scar they gave me with my thumb in quiet little moments

[pitsommelier]

As an absolutely insane bitch I will say that being given a scar by someone you adore as an act of love so that you'll always have part of them writ into your flesh actually goes crazy

[queenxxxsupreme]

Okay baby, so I know this from myself. Stitches and scars hurts REALLY BAD at rainy days. Like touching it feeling it is hell. Since eskel has plenty of scars around his body especially his face how would his s/o would help him. I had this idea in my head for a while.

A/N: hi babe!! I changed the weather a bit to fit the setting, I hope that’s alright :) I did this for game!Eskel.

Outside, the wind howled. Snow came down from the dark sky in heavy flurries. It was definitely the middle of winter in Kaedwen.

You placed a log in the fire, hoping to warm the room up soon. You hated to go to sleep in the cold.

You rubbed your hands together as you lingered near the heat of the fireplace for a few moments. As you stood to your feet, you turned to go back towards the bed.

Eskel was sitting at his desk going through his beastiary. The quill pen he had been using was discarded and his hands were over his face, his elbows propped up on the desk.

“Are you alright, my love?” You placed your hand on his shoulder.

“Yes.” He let out a small breath, letting his hands fall from his face.

“You don’t look alright.” Your hand moved to the back of his head, your fingers gently trailing through his hair.

Eskel gave you a gentle smile, golden eyes finding yours.

“The cold is getting to me.” He admitted. His voice was low and quiet. “My scars…. They don’t fare well with this weather.”

You furrowed your brow a little, feeling sympathetic.

“Come, let’s lay by the fire.” You leaned down to kiss the top of his head.

“I should finish this.” He shook his head gently.

“You should…. But it is rather late. I think your beastiary can wait until the morn.” You clasped his hand in your own. “How about you finish whatever you’d like until I have our little bed made in the floor?”

“We shouldn’t sleep that close to the fire.”

“We aren’t going to be too close.” You shook your head. “Hurry up now. It won’t take me too long to get the bed put together.”

You moved away from him to leave the room. You ventured down the hallway to one of the empty rooms.

Curious, Eskel followed you. He found you dragging one of the bedrolls off of the bed in a long since abandoned room.

“Doll, what are you doing?”

“I don’t want our bedroll on the floor.”

“So we’ll use one that was last used a century ago?”

“We’re going to put blankets over it. Many blankets over it.” You told him.

Once the bedroll was taken back to the witcher’s room, he placed it where you wanted it. From there, you were able to add all of the blankets you wanted. Lastly, you added a pillow for the both of you and then the blankets you’d be covering up with.

“Alright, my love.”

“I still don’t think it’s very safe to be that close to the fire.”

“We aren’t that close.” You shook your head with a little smile.

You got down on to the bed first, then motioned for him to join you.

As the both of you settled down, you faced Eskel. You brought your hand up to cup his scarred cheek, your thumb brushing soothing circles into the rough skin.

His eyes fluttered shut and he leaned into your touch, reminding you of the way Lil Bleater would do the same when you found a spot she favored being scratched.

“Perhaps some winter we’ll have to go somewhere warm.”

An amused smile came to his lips.

“Hmm. That would be lovely.”

“We could convince everyone else to come too. Make it just like home, but only warmer. Yenn and Jaskier would be easy to talk into going south.”

“Vesemir would be the tricky one.”

“I could talk him into it.” You grinned just a little. “He adores me.”

“He does.”

You watched Eskel for a few moments, admiring the way he seemed to be relaxing beneath your touch. His eyes had fluttered shut some time ago, dark lashes resting upon his cheeks. The wrinkles by his eyes seemed to have disappeared.

But the moment couldn’t last forever. His eyes opened and he brought his hand up to pull your hand away from his face. He kissed your knuckles gently.

“Thank you, doll.”

“Anything for you, my love.” You smiled at him.

Taglist will be reblogged because tumblr hates me :)

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 2,675 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria Warnings: Fear, disturbing imagery, language, sexuality, mentions of anxiety/panic attacks A/N: This is part of a series! Find the previous parts on the Masterlist! Summary: The group brainstorms ideas for taking on the Saviors, while Y/N and Daryl explore their new closeness.

Your name: submit What is this?

A few minutes later you were all strategizing in Jesus’s trailer. It was a full room, and you and Daryl hung out near the back, listening as Rick explained what had happened when The Saviors came to search Alexandria the previous night.

“We didn’t know. I didn’t know, if you were really out,” Rick said, looking to Daryl. “And they didn’t say anything about you,” he added, nodding in your direction. “I didn’t know what to think. I hoped you were out but I—” He shook his head. “They tore the place apart. Negan was there. But, obviously, they left empty handed.” He sighed heavily, staring down at the floor. “We came here because it’s time for us to start making plans. To fight this. To fight them. Especially now that Daryl and Y/N are safe. They don’t have any bargaining chips, nothing else to hold over our heads.”

“Hell yeah,” Daryl said, straightening up. “We’re ready.”

By the time the serious discussion was done, you were exhausted, but then everyone stayed gathered around eating and catching up, enjoying a brief moment of joy. The whole time, all Daryl could think about was that you were right next to him and he wasn’t touching you. He couldn’t stop thinking about your lips on his, the struck look on your face when he had finally gotten up the courage and grabbed you and kissed you back, the smile on your face, you straddling his lap... And he wanted to smooth his hands down your back, tangle his fingers in your hair again. It was sending warmth running through him and he couldn’t focus on anything else, despite how happy he was to hear that everyone back home was okay and how glad he was to see them.

You glanced at Daryl occasionally throughout the evening and he always seemed to be far away somewhere. You had no idea that it was because he was thinking about you.

“Goodnight,” you said, standing on the threshold of the trailer, Daryl waiting just outside. The Alexandrians had headed up to bed already in the main house.

Maggie smiled kindly and returned the goodnight, giving you one more hug. “See ya in the mornin’,” she said.

You met Daryl at the bottom of the steps and he nudged his nose up at you and started to lead the way back to the trailer you were sharing.

“You were quiet. That whole time,” you said. “Everything okay?”

He glanced back over at you and smiled, nodding. “Ya. Better even. I just—was thinking about somethin’ else. Couldn’t stop.”

“What’s that?”

He simply gave you a look and pulled open the door to your trailer, nudging you inside first. He shut the door behind him and locked it as he did each night. When he turned, you were standing there with an expectant smile on your face. “Hey,” you said, reaching out and lightly grabbing his sides. He thrilled at the contact. “I just want to make sure you’re alright. Really,” you said earnestly. “A lot has happened.”

Daryl’s blue eyes were downcast and you did see a shadow grow on his face as he thought about his time at the Sanctuary. But then he thought about you appearing in the growing light as you opened the door to his cell, and how you wrapped him up in your arms, and kissed his forehead and his cheek, despite how filthy and miserable he was. He nodded at you. “I know. ‘M fine. And we’re alright. Or, we’re gonna be, right?”

You nodded. “Yeah,” you agreed, smoothing your hands lightly up and down his sides and landing them on his hips.

He gave you a look and you quirked an eyebrow at him, not sure what it meant. “What?” you prodded him.

“Your hands on me,” he murmured, biting his bottom lip. He hesitated just a moment before he wrapped his arms around you a little shyly and tugged you into him. “You wanna know where I was that whole time?”

You smoothed a hand up his strong stomach and chest, resting it over his heart. He felt like he was paralyzed beneath your touch for a moment. You could feel his heartbeat under your fingers. “Mhm,” you said, a little starry-eyed.

His eyes studied your face. “I was right here. With my hands on you and your hands on me.”

You smiled up at the archer but couldn’t wait a moment longer. You stood on your toes and pressed your lips against his eagerly, which gave beneath yours softly. The intensity grew and you arched into him. You pulled his bottom lip in between your teeth and bit it gently, eliciting a growl from deep in his chest. He traced his fingers up your spine and tangled them in your hair, pulling you in against him and kissing you hungrily.

When you finally pulled back, you studied his face for a moment.

He smoothed his hands from your shoulders, down your arms. There was a somewhat uncertain look on his face.

“Hmm?” you asked, lifting a hand and running your fingers through his hair. He shut his eyes as it sent him tingling with goosebumps and electricity.

“What’s this all mean?” he asked.

Your eyes flitted between his. “What do you want it to mean?” you asked, pressing your palm against his chest again, a little nervous now awaiting his response.

Daryl thought for a moment. He knew what he wanted. He wanted you. All of you. To himself. He wanted to protect you, keep you safe, make you happy, take care of you. He wanted to fall asleep with you in his arms and wake up the same way. He wanted to be your home. But saying that was an entirely different matter. “I want… I just want ya to be mine,” he finally said.

“That’s what I want. And for you to be mine.” You smiled up at him softly.

He pressed his lips together as was his habit when he was nervous. He looked down at your hands and took them softly in his, smoothing his thumbs over your silky skin. “Already am. Have been for a good long while,” he admitted.

“You should have said something sooner,” you replied, biting your bottom lip.

“Ya should’ve too.” Daryl let his eyes drink you in and they inevitably fell on the bruise on your neck left by Negan. He immediately felt a rush of rage and you saw his eyes darken with it.

You looked away and pulled back slightly, but Daryl didn’t let you break contact with him completely. “Did he—what was he like with ya? Did he ever hit ya or—”

You stared vaguely downward, your eyes stinging a little with humiliated tears you tried to keep in. You shook your head.

Daryl’s exhale came out as part growl. “What he did is bad enough. Maybe worse. He treated ya like property.”

Your eyes were still downcast and Daryl took in the pout on your lips. “He always says it like you chose it. Like you had a choice. But the truth is you don’t. And you can’t say no to him, not really... You just comply with whatever he wants, out of fear or because you’re holding onto what you’re protecting. He has total control of you. He possesses you. And yet he smiles and acts charming like he didn’t blackmail you into being there.”

Daryl’s chest was swelling with rage again. “I know.” He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “But he ain’t ever touchin’ ya again.” Daryl took in your downcast expression. “C’mon. C’mere.” He grabbed your hand and pulled you over toward the bed, sinking down on it, his back up against the headboard. “You’re safe,” he said softly. He gestured to you with a tilt of his chin and you sank down next to him, shutting your eyes as he folded you up against him, wrapping an arm around you, and smoothed his hand over your upper arm. His fingers found the scar some of The Saviors had left there during what felt like another lifetime, the one he had stitched for you not too long after you met. He traced it lightly.

“That time,” he said softly, “when ya got this. They tried to take ya back to him?”

You nodded.

“You were goin’ out there and huntin’ em on your own? Since Aaron brought you to Alexandria?”

“Even before then.”

“Christ, Y/N. Ya coulda told me. I woulda helped ya.”

You looked up at him. “I wasn’t ready to tell anyone what had happened to me yet. I was still burying it. But I think I’ve realized that—I never would have been ready. You’re never really ready to talk about something like that. And I didn’t want to pull anyone else into it, make them a target.”

Daryl sighed and you felt the expansion and sinking of his chest beside you. He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “Ya… ya, I know…” he said, thinking about his own scars, his own wounds. “C’mon. Let’s get some sleep now.”

You settled in against him more deeply and shut your eyes.

_ _ _ _ _ _

“Mmm, you know you always were my favorite, right?” Negan caressed your cheek and studied your face.

“I bet you say that to all your wives,” you retorted flatly.

This only made him chuckle and smile. “No. I really don’t. You know what I like about you?” he asked. His hands slid down your back to rest in the curve at the bottom of your spine. “You’re a badass. I could probably send you out to run any one of my outposts, be in charge of one of our serving settlements, and you’d run it almost as well3 as I could myself. And then you could come home and slip into a nice cocktail dress and a pair of high heels and you turn every head in the room. That’s rare. And gets me all warm and fuzzy in all the right places,” he said biting his bottom lip. He pressed his pelvis into you and you could easily feel the growing erection underneath his jeans.

“Yeah, well, you know I don’t like your process,” you said softly, looking away.

“I know. And that’s a goddamn shame. What a waste of your talents.” Negan leaned in and began kissing your neck. The stubble on his face was rough and it scratched your skin a little too hard as he pressed into you. His fingers wound into your hair and he tugged it to one side so he could nibble along your jaw toward your ear. “Now, I think tonight I want you to do something special for me,” he whispered gruffly into your ear. “Because I have had one hell of a day.”

You gasped yourself awake like you were emerging from frigid water, completely disoriented, and ready to fight. You felt hands on you as you tried to make sense of where you were in the darkness and you struggled against them violently, pushing away from the figure in front of you and toppling onto the ground. “Get off me! Fuck! What the fuck?! Stay the fuck away from me!” Still not knowing where you were, you scrambled backward in the darkness until your back hit a wall. Just then there was a tremendous noise and you heard the distinctive sound of a door busting open. The next second you were blinded as a light was turned on.

It was then that you snapped back into reality and remembered where you were. “Y/N!” Daryl was yelling your name, leaning over the edge of the bed toward you, his face desperate, frantic. “S’alright! You’re safe!”

Maggie and Sasha had busted in through the door and both were pointing guns in your direction, looking bewildered. Enid was standing behind them on the steps peering in with wide eyes.

“What’s goin’ on?” Maggie demanded.

Daryl snapped around to look at her. “Hey! Put the damn guns down!”

“What the hell happened?!” Sasha yelled.

Daryl climbed off the bed toward you and knelt down. “I said lower the goddamn guns!” he snapped again. He could see that you were trembling. This time Maggie and Sasha listened, finally realizing there was no real, material threat in the room. “Hey. Y/N. S’alright.” Daryl held a hand out toward you, palm out, hesitantly inching closer. “It’s just me. You’re alright…”

Your chest was heaving as you gulped in air. “It was—it was him. He was—” You squeezed your eyes shut. “Fuck,” you muttered, leaning your head back against the wall. “Fuck. I’m sorry… I’m sorry. Shit…” You covered your face with your hands and it was easy to see you shaking.

Maggie and Sasha exchanged a sad and concerned look. Enid touched Maggie on the sleeve. “Come on. Everything is alright. Daryl’s got this.” They retreated, closing the (now busted) door softly behind them.

You pressed your fingers to your closed eyes and tapped your head back against the wall again in frustration. “It felt so real. I—I thought I was back there. He was—” you broke off.

“C’mon. Get on up off the floor. C’mere,” Daryl said, holding his hand out to you. You accepted it and allowed him to pull you to your feet.

“Did I—did I hit you?” you asked him, studying his face, cupping it with your shaking hands.

“Nah.”

“Fuck,” you collapsed against him, burying your face against his chest. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Daryl smoothed his hands over your back. You were still shaking slightly. “Quit that. Ya ain’t got anythin’ to be sorry for. I pulled a knife in the middle of the night the other day, remember?”

You pressed yourself flat against his chest.

“S’alright,” he soothed. “C’mon and sit down. Ya need anything?”

“Maybe a lobotomy,” you said wryly, sinking down on the edge of the bed.

“Nah. Just—takes a bit of time.”

You glanced over at Daryl and he could tell there was something specific on your mind that you were struggling with. “I—Do you think I should have done it?” you asked him.

He cocked his head in a question.

“Killed him.” You stared at Daryl and he could read the turmoil inside you. “After he would—” you felt sick and broke off for a moment. “When he would spend the night with me… he’d just be there. Next to me. Asleep. And I would sit there thinking about how I could do it. I could just end him. Do you think I should have? Maybe it would have stopped all of this.”

Daryl shook his head. “Nah. It wouldn’t have been enough. And it would have probably gotten ya killed. After bein’ there, seein’ what it’s like, what they’re like… It can’t just be him. It has to be more.”

You were grateful for his words and nodded, albeit a little hesitantly. You gently stroked the side of his face and gave him a small smile. He nudged his head back in the direction of the pillows and you nodded, climbing up the bed and flopping back down with a heavy sigh, trying to let go of the tension that had hold of you. Daryl laid right behind you, pressed against you with his arm draped over you, holding you tight. The steady cadence of his breathing and his weight made you feel safe, and you eventually fell asleep again and didn’t wake until the morning.

[asset35-maya]

Nice Things

Inspired by this spectacular drawing of long-haired Nines by @marndraws

Gavin Reed never had nice things.

Every day was a fight for survival. He studied hard, worked hard and did everything he could to come out on top… but he never had nice things. If he did, they wouldn’t last.

Then the most beautiful creature to walk the planet entered his life.

A sheer scientific miracle. A combined feat of engineering and art. The most advanced android ever built… and the kindest soul the mean city of Detroit had ever seen.

Nines.

Gavin had no idea how to interact with the RK900 in the beginning. If it were any other new partner he’d have been his usual abrasive self, but there was something about the android that left him dumbstruck. No insults came to mind, so Gavin stuck to silent cooperation (and obedience, actually).

The RK900 model was designed to be aesthetically pleasing. There was no doubt about that, but it was how the android carried himself that took things to another level entirely. Poise, elegance and flair touched everything that he said and did.

It extended to the way he transformed his appearance after deviancy. Nines shed his Cyberlife uniform with the harsh turtleneck and stiff jacket in favour of softer, more delicate garments. He still stuck to dark colours, but his clothes were all loose and flowing. He dressed more like an interior decorator than a homicide detective (and it honestly served him well).

Gavin often had to tear his gaze away from the refined fabrics and unconventional styles that Nines wore. Gavin never had nice things… but he certainly had an eye for them.

And then there was Nines’ hair…

When Gavin had first seen the change from the default appearance settings, he had to leave the station, find a quiet alley and focus on bringing his breathing back to normal.

Nines… for some unknown, wild, spectacular, unprecedented, utterly amazing reason… had decided to lengthen his hair and let it hang loose around his shoulders.

The dark tresses were as expressive as the android himself. They danced when he laughed. They whipped the air when he animatedly told a story with his steel blue eyes flashing. They shone in every damn light.

Gavin couldn’t help but stare. He never had nice things… but he was drawn to them.

Not a day went by that he didn’t want to reach out and tuck the fine strands behind Nines’ ear, but he held back from giving in to such insanity.

Nines didn’t hold himself back though.

For all the times Gavin had been looking, so had he. He made his move in the middle of a very boozy Christmas party at the DPD. It didn’t take much of an effort. They left the party together on the flimsy pretext of Nines showing Gavin his Christmas lights at home… and promptly fell into bed together.

Gavin had never had nice things… but he knew exactly what he wanted, and when they were presented to him on a silver platter, he knew how to take them.

Nines’ hair was as soft as he imagined and even silkier than he dreamed. He couldn’t stop running his fingers through the lifelike synthetic fibres and Nines couldn’t seem to get enough of his touch either.

Bliss.

On the third anniversary of the Christmas party, the pair found themselves in very much the same position, only that they didn’t actually make it to the mindless office event this time. The day started and ended in bed.

Fairy lights glittered and tastefully-chosen tinsel framed the snow-laden windows of their loft apartment. The large Christmas tree emanated a warm glow that reached even the bedroom where they lay tangled in the sheets.

Nines was draped over Gavin’s chest, his fingers skimming idly across the warm skin.

“Sweetheart…”

“Nines.”

Gavin’s wary tone of voice made the android laugh. A velvet sound that the human would follow to the ends of the earth.

“What’s the thing you love most about me?”

Gavin exhaled loudly, hugging Nines closer.

“Baby, you know I ain’t good at words and shit.”

“I’m not asking you to write me a poem. Just tell me what you love most about me.”

He sighed and stared at the ceiling.

“Is this a test?”

“I don’t have to test you. I know everything there is to know about you. I can read you like a book even with my analysis software turned off.”

“Uh huh. Then why the inquisition?”

“Because validation is nice.”

Gavin snorted and carded his fingers though Nines’ gorgeous hair.

“Guess I can start by applauding your honesty.”

Nines hummed, rubbing slow circles into Gavin’s pec with his thumb. A few minutes went by and Gavin began to drift off to sleep.

“So what’s more attractive to you? My personality or my looks?”

Gavin’s eyes snapped open in alarm.

“What the ph-”

“There’s no right or wrong answer. Just tell me.”

Nines propped himself up on his elbows and peered into Gavin’s face. It was truly a magnificent sight. Two piercing blue eyes… plush lips curling into a smirk… a cyan LED… and a perfectly arched eyebrow. A pale, angular face… framed by sweeping curtains of dark, glossy hair.

Gavin gulped.

“I can’t choose. You’re the total package.”

“Cop out.”

“Pfffft. You tell me then. What do you like better? My mug or my sharp wit? Hah. Betcha can’t answer that for all the complex calculations your supercomputer brain can do.”

Nines tossed his hair over his shoulder and elevated himself further, pressing his forearms onto Gavin. His fixation with the human’s muscular chest was no secret.

“I can.”

“Huh.”

“You hardly said anything when we first met so I had nothing to go off for your personality-”

“Maybe I was mysterious and aloof and ya just couldn’t resist.”

“No, I actually thought you were kind of slow. All your medals and service awards didn’t make any sense to me.”

“Wowww.”

“So it had to be your body. Why else would anyone keep you around?”

“Is that why you stuck around too?”

“Maybe.”

“You little-”

Gavin reversed their positions on the bed, flipping Nines onto his back and curling huge biceps around his lithe body. Nines tipped his head back to allow Gavin to drag his teeth across his throat and latch onto his collarbone. Some moments passed like that until Nines regained control by hooking a leg over the human’s waist to slow him down.

“Fine. I confess. It was the leather jacket.”

“Seriously?”

Nines dug his heel into Gavin’s coccyx.

“It was everything about your appearance that you had control over… or weren’t born with at least. For instance, your face is conventionally attractive, but it’s all the lines and scars and little things that made me wonder what kind of a life you’d lived… what you might have gone through... how you came out stronger. And yes, your body is a temple, but it’s the work you put into it that I admire. You know how to take care of yourself and that’s…”

“Hot?”

“Hot.”

Nines accepted a rather sloppy kiss with grace. He rubbed his hands up and down his partner’s back.

“So. Tell me. What was it for you? What is it for you?”

Gavin’s right hand subconsciously found its way into Nines’ long hair and caressed his scalp. He sighed into the crook of Nines’ neck and took in the familiar scent that was neither entirely human nor entirely artificial. Everyone expected androids to smell like a new car but the fact was that each of them had their own unique smell. It was impossible to describe in words, but it was one of the many many things Gavin loved about Nines.

“Babe, I think you’re asking a shit ton of questions, but none of them are what you actually wanna ask.”

“Say more.”

“Gavin, do you love me because I look like a Greek god or is it because I’m smart as phck? Gavin, what did you notice first about my sexy android ass? Does the same thing get you off today, or is it something else?

I think… there’s something you already know… or something you think you know… and you’re just trying to get me to say it and dig myself into a giant hole.”

Nines didn’t respond but his LED did. Gavin chuckled and pressed his lips to the spinning yellow light.

“Called it.”

Nines rolled his eyes.

“It’s my hair, isn’t it?”

“Huh?”

“Admit it, you’re obsessed with my hair.”

“And you’re obsessed with my tits. We take turns objectifying each other. First sign of a healthy relationship.”

The android’s sharp nose scrunched up at a particular word and Gavin closed his eyes in resignation. Despite his best efforts he’d walked right into the trap.

“Dammit, babe, I didn’t mean it like that. I would never ever see you as an object-”

“My, my… we’re lying here two years to the day we became…”

“A thing.”

“Yes. And here I am reminiscing about what made you even look at me in the first place… and it turns out the credit goes more to Cyberlife than it does to me.”

Gavin groaned while his lover’s tinkling laughter rang out. He had to think fast if he had to turn the tables.

“So I’m that slow?”

Nines looked back at him, confused.

“You just dragged MY instincts. Like I’m dumb enough to fall for a program written by some geeky little code nerd. Like it was all totally predetermined and I didn’t see you tease and flirt and practically fall over yourself trying to get my attention for months. Huh?”

Gavin tightened his grip and gave his partner an affirmative shake.

“All those outfits and nail colours and pointy shoes and sparkly, shiny things. You saw me looking and you just kept stepping it up.”

He grasped Nines’ jaw and kissed him firmly.

“And your hair, baby… yeah, some genius worked on the tech at some point… but they didn’t tell you how to wear it. They didn’t tell you about the length or cut or angle. They didn’t tell you to walk around looking like a phcking prince. They didn’t tell you to roll the car windows down on the highway so your hair could fly in my face and drive me phcking crazy…”

Gavin thrust his fingers into the dark locks and pulled the android back in for a series of open-mouthed kisses and tantalising swipes of his tongue. Nines started to reciprocate physically, but Gavin swatted his hands away, not wanting to let things go further without making it clear who had gained the upper hand in their ridiculous game. He broke away panting.

“I love you. Don’t ask me why because there isn't one single reason. And I phcking love your hair. Not just ’cause it’s pretty but ’cause you’re the only motherphcker in that precinct who’d show up to the gristliest of crime scenes looking like a runway model.”

They stared at each other. Nines’ LED flickered.

“I… wow, sweetheart… okayyy… I… love you too.”

A moment of silence passed and Gavin rounded things off with his classic double wink.

“You’re welcome.”

Nines smiled, accepting defeat. He reached up and carefully rearranged his hair, letting it fan out on the pillow. Unable to keep the smile off his face, Gavin dipped his head down and returned his lips to Nines’, kissing him under the covers until his LED spun bright blue.

Gavin Reed never had nice things… until he learnt how to take good care of them.

//

Part 2: Red Dress

[echo-of-sounds]

not much of a birthday

Headcanons and a smut drabble for Aizawa’s birthday! I struggled to think of as many headcanons as I did for the other characters. Hopefully the smut makes up for it!

Warnings: it’s nowhere near as rough as the last one, but the smut does include a Daddy kink

Aizawa’s birthday is difficult. It’s not that he hates it. He’s just kinda… whatever about it. It makes planning a birthday party, or any celebration really, and buying presents a challenge.

Large gatherings aren’t his favorite. If you truly want to throw a birthday party, don’t make it a surprise party and only invite his closest friends (seven people max). Too many people mean he’s going to sulk in his room the entire time, not wanting to deal with the large, noisy crowd. He wants his birthday to be quiet and relaxing.

Buying presents is so damn difficult. He doesn’t really have hobbies or interests outside of being a teacher and a Hero. Well, he likes cats but you can’t buy a cat every single year. The best option is clothing. Everyone could always use new pairs of socks and underwear.

A leather wallet, beard softener, a simple, handsome sweater, and maybe a new type of coffee are also some options. He’s a laidback guy with laidback interests. Keep the presents to things he needs and will definitely use. If they’re too elaborate or eccentric, he’ll never get around to using it.

“I hope you like them,” you said with the best smile you could muster as you sat the presents on the coffee table. The wrapping was beautiful but the content wasn’t particularly intriguing. 

Shouta unwrapped the first one: a package of socks. The next was a package of boxer briefs. Then two nice, simple T-shirts. Then a gift bag with a new brush, hair ties, reparative shampoo, and protein conditioner to prevent hair breakage from all the shit he puts it through.

He thanked you for each one.

“You’re welcome. But there’s one more.” You nodded to the last, most specialized one. It took a few weeks to finally think of and find something that wasn’t as plain as underwear.

He grabbed the flat present off the table and unwrapped it. The tape ripped easily, letting him see the dark brown leather padfolio. It fit his laptop, notebook, and had plenty of smaller pockets. It’d hopefully help him be just a little more organized in his commutes. 

After looking through all of it, he gave a rare smile and kissed you, mumbling as he pulled away, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Happy birthday, Sho.” He narrowed his eyes when you stroked his cheek. “What?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“What is it?”

You sighed at his too-intense gaze, knowing he wasn’t going to let it go. “I’m glad you like the presents. I really am. I just… I guess I wish I could buy you something exciting and unique. I want to make you feel special.” You rubbed the back of his neck, massaging the strained muscles.

“You don’t need to buy me expensive things to make me feel special.”

“I know. I know that. But… I want to spoil you for at least one day and you make doing that incredibly difficult. I feel like you deserve something more for all that you do. I just want to spoil you,” you lightly laughed and kissed his temple. “For once.” 

“You don’t need to-”

“I want to,” you whispered against his skin.

Shouta grabbed your hand and met your eyes. “These past few days have been more than I needed.” He kissed your nose then your mouth. “After weeks of screaming teenagers, a weekend with you is all I want,” he confided.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.” He drew you close and swung your leg over his lap. He lifted your shirt off, connecting a deep kiss after. His tongue wandered over yours. You sighed, casually grinding, pressing your breasts against him. 

His hands drifted to your front and unbuttoned your pants. Without breaking the kiss, you stood. Rough hands slipped in the sides and yanked them and your underwear down. Fingers frisked you, not afraid of being brusque as they circled your clit, making you widen your stance, giving him more room to fondle. 

Two fingers slipped in. They crudely waved as his palm grazed your clit. Your legs tensed and your spine curved towards him, wanting to be closer. But his clothes were still on. Leaving his lips for only one second, you removed his shirt. Pulling his sweatpants down was next and was awkward with his hand unabashedly prodding you. 

A flick jolted your clit, stopping your actions. You gasped around his tongue, trying to moan his name. Another thwack jostled you. Shouta’s bitter rasp provoked you awfully, “You know what to call me.”

“Daddy,” you softly cried. 

“Good girl,” he praised and tugged you into his lap. You couldn’t ask what he wanted you to do because his fingers reentered, just as crude, just as grazing. When you reached for him, he warned, “Don’t touch me.”

You didn’t object. Your head dropped to his shoulder through his fondling. The two fingers inside folded, growing rougher by the second. His other hand played with your thigh and ass, scratching and kneaded and nailing your skin raw.

Your hips jerked on their own. You tightened for the spank and reprimand, but it never came. Which was weird. You gently whispered, “Daddy?”

“Hmm?”

You didn’t know how to ask why he didn’t scold you like he normally does. Thankfully, you didn’t need to figure it out. Lips lined over your neck and shoulders. Hands rubbed along your sides and back, keeping you warmly close. He spoke hushedly, “I don’t want to punish you today. Just listen to me, okay?”

You sat up to see his smile and nodded. His thumb pulled your bottom lip down. “You’re a good girl. You can ride me now,” he granted with a deep kiss.

Lining him up, you lowered, sighing happily into his mouth. His heat and heft fit comfortably, perfectly inside. You wasted no time and hugged his shoulders as you began grinding. Arms embraced you. Lips and tongue skimmed your skin. Muscled thighs tensed and swayed with your hips.

He sped up. It excited you to do the same, craving to hear him groan. You wanted to give him the pleasure he always gave you. It was his birthday after all.

Raising on your knees, you bounced, stirring a hint of sound from him. It also motivated his hips to hump up. They met yours in the middle, nudging him nicely and loudly against your front wall. Your breasts bobbed with the faster motion. Heat encircled one. His first groan rippled over your nipple, sucking, damn near gnawing on it. 

Black hair tangled around your fingers. You clung tight, keeping his mouth suckling. Your thighs hastened, hips hustled on, working up a thin sweat, tightening your body, almost there.

But he pulled away, halting your hips. You whimpered shamelessly, “Daddy, don’t.”

“Are you going to make me cum as well or should I do that myself?”

“No, it’s your birthday,” you panted, gripping his arm, jerking in his hands.

“I don’t think you can.”

You tucked into his neck. Hands grasped and arms lifted you up as he moved, laying you down on the couch, making sure your head rested on the pillows. He gutturally purred into your ear, “My birthday present is you. Let Daddy do it.”

Without waiting, he quickly snapped his hips. You scratched his back and moaned. His shoulder blades wavered with his humping. His thighs spread you bare. His back bowed beautifully.

The thrusts stopped. Your whine came out louder than expected. His heat deserted you when he sat up and pulled out, leering between your legs. Thumbs felt up and down your outer lips, petting with pressure. They bore heavily over your clit before caressing again, stretching you open, smoothing you closed, toying with all the delicate nerves. A particularly brutal sweep on your clit induced a high-pitched gasp. You clutched his forearm but his fingers continued. Your hips and thighs fidgeted, struggling to get away under his weight. His smirk did not go unnoticed.

You pawed his chest, fussing, “Please.”

Spit dripped from his mouth, slowly dribbling onto you. Thumbs persisted their patterns, now wetter, harsher.

“Please…” 

“Please what?”

“Please, Daddy, please, fuck me, please. I want you.”

“There you go.” He lifted your thigh to rest on his chest, lowered to kiss you, and resumed his thrusting. Your leg bobbed with his sinks. “Is this want you wanted?”

You nodded with a smile, scratching his sides. He paused mid-thrust and chided in a cautionary tone, “I may not punish you but you still need to be grateful.”

“Thank you, Daddy. Thank you.”

“That’s a good girl.”

“Really?”

“I promise.” Hot air puffed as his lips returned, so wet and so warm, heating more with his sweeping tongue. Hips slowly swayed. His scarred abs and hair-dusted chest fluttered under your fingers. Small flattery and honeyed words voiced into your mouth. 

“I love you,” you breathed.

“I love you too.”

The softness faded. Thrusts steadily built up. Teeth pinched and pulled your bottom lip, taxing the sensitive skin. They moved to your neck next. Pinches turned to full-mouthed bites, running all over as he clamped hard, trying to mark you as much as possible.

“Daddy,” you choked out through the heightening breaths, seeking his permission.

His husky utter heated your skin, “You can cum. You don’t need to wait for me.”

“Thank you, Daddy. Thank you, thank you, thank-” 

“Shhh,” he hushed into your neck.

Your nails rooted in his sides, signaling your looming release. Lips covered yours and swallowed your peaking moans. Wetly and weakly, you mumbled into his mouth, around his tongue, “More.”

He lifted until his tip remained inside then buried in with a heavy, strong thrust. His pace maintained heavy and strong too. His groans matched the intensity. Your hips and thigh hurt so wonderfully under his mass. Moans trapped in your throat, leaving you huffing, hot, and hanging.

Dry, jugular groans tipped you over, “Cum for me. I know you want to. Cum for Daddy.”

Your body went rigid with clamped muscles. Shallow breaths ceased. Heat flooded but no moans sounded. The internal pleasure kept you gasping for air through your release- gasping for his finish- gasping for your Daddy, who kissed and caressed your trembling frame.

When you slouched, he stood and kneeled over your shoulders, holding himself for you. He entered the second your lips opened, salty and throbbing. Using the armrest to support himself, his thrusts started anew. You gagged as he hit the back of your throat. But his hips didn’t slow. 

Looking up, you could tell he was close. He glared at you. A blush painted his cheeks and chest. You snagged his ass, holding him in your mouth.

“Fuck.” He bucked further. Though it caused another gag, you still grappled at him, letting him fuck your throat. His grunts grated too low to understand, but you didn’t need to. Hair pressed to your nose as he drove fully inside. Joints locked. Fingers fastened in your hair. Liquid salt spurt, trickling, choking.

You sucked him as long and deep as you could until breath became your priority. You eventually tapped his thigh, needing air. Your mouth was emptied. Saliva and cum connected you to his depleted erection. The string split, driveling, messing your chin and breasts.

Before you could so much as move, Shouta nabbed his shirt and cleaned you, careful of your swollen lips and bruises. His scowl at his concentration was cute, slightly puffing his bottom lip out. He noticed and raised an eyebrow. 

You waved it off, “Nothing. Happy birthday, Daddy.”

“Thank you. And thank you for the presents.” He finished his wiping and tenderly kissed you, lovingly brushing his tongue along your lips. “Tomorrow you can take me to a movie.”

You exhaled a dry laugh, “That’s not exactly exciting or unique but it’s a start, I guess. But right now, can you get me some ibuprofen? My neck’s sore.”

“And a heating pad?”

“Please and thank you.”

Shouta kissed you once more and went to get the items. You patiently waited, wanting to cuddle him for the rest of the night.

[thorfemmes]

Cloudy

in which harry hates summer storms, but she loves them.

Hi everyone! I know I’m not really a fan account, so please feel free to skip over this post if you don’t want to read fanfic! I’ve decided to take part in @helladirections​ ‘s Summer Feeling writing challenge, and this is what I came up with! Feedback is greatly appreciated, I’m trying to hype myself up into writing again. Also thank you @jasline-arod​ for being my beta reader, I love you endlessly!<3

Prompts: summer reading & ice cream

Rated 18+: fluff, SMUT, soft dom!harry, teasing, edging, punishment, impact play, light bondage, condescension kink if you squint, cute aftercare!!! 

Word Count: 3.8k

Summer storms were quite melancholy.

Harry supposed he was being a bit dramatic, considering (y/n) loved the rain. If it weren’t for the possibility of getting a cold and the wandering eyes from their surrounding neighbors she would be out dancing and skipping around the backyard in the puddles and mud. But alas, their neighbors were a bit too nosy and she couldn’t afford any sick time off at work right now, so she was using this day to clean the house. Some last minute spring cleaning as she called it.  

Harry, on the other hand, wanted nothing more than to roll around in the sheets all day with her. The young couple had planned a nice date out for the day: a stroll around the neighborhood, a picnic in the park, maybe some window shopping in the plaza. Their car was currently in the shop so anything they wanted to do would have to be within walking distance -(y/n) really didn’t like Ubering around. Mother Nature apparently had other plans. 

Which leads us here. Harry had seen the storm die down and in all of his stubborn brilliance had insisted on making an ice cream run. ‘S just a little drizzle! He maintained. I’ll be back before you know it, Poppet. It turns out “a little drizzle” can easily turn into torrential downpour in the twenty minutes it takes Harry to bike to and from the grocery store. He couldn’t believe his luck, and now as he approached his front door sopping wet and dragging his bike up the steps, he was silently cursing himself for deciding Ben and Jerry’s was worth the trek. 

“Babe? Is everything alright?” (Y/n) proffered over the soft music she had put on when he left. She could hear his frustrated grumbles and sighs from the living room and had of course seen the storm pick up. 

“ ‘M fine, sweetheart, just a bit wet ‘s all.” Harry griped from the kitchen. He quickly dried off the pints of ice cream and stuck them in the freezer before pouring a bowl of uncooked rice for his cell phone. Flicking off the lights in the kitchen, spotless and dust-free thanks to (y/n), he walked into the living room to find her tucked into the corner of the couch reading a book.

Peering over the pages, her eyes softly danced over her lover -damp and frumpy from the rain outside. He had a slight pout on his face that made her giggle playfully, eyes glittering with nothing but adoration and humor. 

“My strong love, fought the rain and thunder just to get his girlfriend ice cream.”

He snorted at her, trying his hardest to hold back a smile. “Think I deserve a prize, don’t you think? It was quite brave of me to go out there, I could’ve gotten swept away by the flood of puddles!”

Her laugh rang like a chime. It was times like this, soft and quiet and domestic, that made his heart skip a beat. She made him delirious and dizzy with love. 

“Of course, my love. Your prize is in the bathroom, hanging from the towel rack. I saw the rain pick up and figured you might come home a bit soggy,” She said with a laugh. “Go get changed, when you come back we can lounge about and read together.”

Harry’s heart fluttered as he shuffled out of the living room. When he came back, now changed into a crisp crew neck shirt and some washed worn sweats, he quickly popped over in front of his love. She looked up from the novel in front of her, stars in her eyes. Harry quickly leaned down and showered her in kisses. Anywhere he could reach was covered in smooches. She wiggled and whined playfully as he threw his leg over her waist, but not before grabbing the book and laying it on the coffee table face down. They grappled and playfully dodged kisses until she cried “Alright! Fine you win!” with a ridiculous pout and her hands pinned to the couch under Harry’s grasp. 

“You’re so mean,” she pouted through puffs of air.

“Mean ‘m I? Would a mean boyfriend have gone out in the harsh winter storm for-”

“It’s the middle of July!” 

“For pints of Chunky Monkey, Phish Food, Karamel Sutra, and Tonight Dough? I don’t think tha’s very mean, d’you?”

Harry swore the sigh she let out sounded harmonious. “No, I suppose not. It sounds like you’re spoiling me, huh?” She tried to loosen his grip again. “Let me up, please?”

He grinned down at her. “Kissy first?”

She leaned up the best she could for a smooch before he let her get back up. Harry laid down on the couch and patted his tummy with the hand not resting under his neck. 

“C’mere, let’s read.”

(Y/n) crawled between Harry’s legs and laid between them, her head resting on his soft stomach. “Mm, nice and comfy.”

Harry chuckled with her, loving the warmth and comfort the weight of her gave him. He wrapped an arm around the front of her chest and softly rubbed his thumb over her shoulder. 

“Do you want me to start the chapter over?” She asked, perfectly content to reread for him.

“Course not, Petal! Just pick up where you left off, please.”

“ ‘I’m going to America. To seek my fortune.’ (This was just after America but long after fortunes.) ‘A ship sails soon from London. There is great opportunity in America. I’m going to take advantage of it. I’ve been training myself. In my hovel. I’ve taught myself not to need sleep. A few hours only. I’ll take a ten-hour-a-day job and then I’ll take another ten-hour-a-day job and I’ll save every penny from both except what I need to eat to keep strong, and when I have enough I’ll buy a farm and build a house and make a bed big enough for two.’ ”

Harry began to lose focus on the story, instead concentrating on his petal’s voice, soft and clear enough for just the two of them. Almost as if the bubble around them might burst if she spoke too loudly. She began to alter her voice, adding in dashes of accents and key changes as the characters varied. Harry let a heavy breath fall from his nose as he smiled and bit his lip with a smile. 

“ ‘Do you love me, Westley? Is that it?’ ”

Harry held his breath.

“ He couldn’t believe it. ‘Do I love you? My God, if your love were a grain of sand, mine would be a universe of beaches. If your love were-’ ” 

Now, Harry knows he has a very specific taste in literature. And while he may personally prefer obscene prose and Joan Didion, this line -from a novel built on fantasies -was embroidered on his heart in bright yellow thread. The millions of grains of sand could not even begin to embody how dearly and how fiercely he loved her. His heart physically ached at the thought of her; her presence, her laugh, smile, ambition, everything. He loved (y/n) in a way he never imagined possible. Harry could not even begin to fathom a world without her. And if the little velvet box hidden in an old shoe box behind a ton of winter coats in the upstairs closet was anything to go by, he didn’t want to begin imagining it. 

“Lovey, are you okay?” (Y/n) spoke up. She noticed him stiffen up immediately after she finished reading that paragraph. 

Silence followed her question. She stuck the loose playing card she had found into the book to mark her place and gently sat up to shift herself in his lap, setting the book down on the coffee table again. Harry was pulled from his thoughts of navy blue suits and white lace gowns when she softly called his name again and stroked his cheeks with her thumbs.

“Is everything alright Harry? You zoned out for quite a while there.”

Harry looked at the heavenly sight in front of him. Her hair was a bit mussed up from the cleaning and the sweat that had no doubt appeared in the slightly humid house. She sat in an old cropped cotton shirt that proudly touted a faded improv club logo from college on it (she had gone to one meeting and of course it was the meeting where they gave out free t-shirts) with wrinkles and dried stains from cleaning spray. Her gray pajama shorts had little line drawings of bumble bees on them, and were currently riding up her thighs as they sat straddling Harry’s hips. He dragged his eyes to look at her face. He swore she was glowing in the grayish sunlight streaming from the windows. Little moles and freckles and acne scars dotted across her makeup-less face. Her eyes were wide and her lips were gaped open slightly in worry as his silence continued.

Harry finally, finally took in a breath (he desperately needed it, he didn’t realize she had literally stolen his breath away) and mumbled “ ‘M fine, petal. I just love you so much,” and with that closed the all too wide gap between them. 

Her eyes widened just a bit more before kissing back, her eyes fell closed and her hands held tightly to his cheeks. Harry swore the kiss was meant to be gentle, but then he found himself nibbling on her bottom lip and soothing the slight sting with his tongue when she whined against him. She pulled away breathlessly and looked over his face, now flushed crimson with their movements.

“I love you too!” She breathily laughed. “Let’s-”

Her thoughts were lost as Harry began to kiss a trail from below her ear and down her neck, one hand squeezing her soft hip and the other holding her head in place as she squirmed (she was a bit ticklish). He sucked and softly bit at the junction between her neck and shoulder as she let out a faint moan at the attention being given to the sensitive skin. She ran her fingers through his loose curls and gently led his head back up to meet her lips. She tenderly rolled her hips against his -his hands quickly following the motion. 

“Ah, fuck baby. You’re so fuckin’ sexy m’love,” Harry groaned against her lips. They were breathing in each other's air, hips thrusting against the other and hands grasping at fabric and anywhere they could grab. Harry lowered his hand to cup her hot pussy over her shorts, rubbing his palms against her clothed clit.

“Mmf, please Harry please!” She wanted him so badly, she was this close to ripping his clothes off at the seams.

“What d’you want baby girl? Hmm? Ask me nicely ‘nd maybe I’ll give it to you.” 

The air shifted between them. She knew he would give her whatever she wanted, but the power was now in his corner. She whined loudly and bucked her hips up as he teased the waistband of her shorts.

“Don’t be a brat, petal. You won’t like the outcome.” Harry grinned up at her, running his thumb over her bottom lip that had stuck out with a pout. “Why don’t we run upstairs so I can fuck you properly. Tha’ is unless you want to stay down here with a sore bum ‘nd nothin’ else? Hmm, petal?”

“Harry, I swear if you don’t do something I’m going to screa- ah!” Harry’s hand came down on her ass with a loud smack! 

(Y/n)’s eyes widened as she scrambled off of his lap and up the stairs to their “guest” bedroom, Harry not far behind. Harry giggled at her antics. Of course he wasn’t planning on leaving her needy and wanting, but she was being bratty and he couldn’t have that now could he?

(Y/n) all but threw herself onto their bed and ripped off her clothing, absolutely desperate for whatever Harry threw her way. She’d ride his thigh if that’s all he’d give her. She was that needy right now. 

She scrambled up the bed and sat down with her legs crossed, patiently waiting as Harry stood at the foot of the bed.

“I think 10 swats on your bum are an appropriate punishment for you steppin’ out of line. Don’t you think, baby?”

“Yes, sir.” (Y/n) watched as he walked around the side of the bed. He reached into the bedside table and pulled out a bottle of shea butter lotion and the pretty pink ribbon she was all too familiar with.

“Lay down on your tummy, petal,” Harry said, setting everything on the table. 

(Y/n) quickly laid down, grabbing her pillow and nestling her cheek into it. Harry grabbed one of the extra pillows and shoved it under her hips. He then pulled off the t-shirt and shrugged off his sweats, leaving him in a pair of heather gray briefs that left nothing to the imagination. 

“You’ve such a pretty bum, sweetheart. ‘M so excited to see it marked up with my hand marks,” Harry caressed and massaged her cheeks carefully. “Count aloud for me, lovie.”

(Y/n) was about to answer when Harry’s hand came down on her left cheek, hard. “One!” She squeaked out.

“D’you know why you’re bein’ punished, lovie?” Smack!

“Ah! Two! Yes sir! I was being bad earlier. I was being naughty and begging without saying please!” 

Harry rubbed over the sore area. “Very good, baby. Are you going to do it again?” Smack! Smack! Smack! Three spanks came in succession.

“Three! Fou-, Four! Five! No, Sir! I won’t!” She squirmed and hid her face in the pillow as her grip tightened on the material. She was a bit embarrassed at the fact that she was already getting teary eyed, but it had been a second since she'd been punished like this.

Harry paused and moved her hair out from around her face. “How are you doin’ (Y/n)? Gimme a color, please.”

“Green, Harry. I’m good, please keep going.” She wiggled and lifted her ass up towards Harry's other hand.

“Okay, lovie. Just makin’ sure.” Harry quickly kissed her cheek then pushed her head back into the pillow. She moaned loudly at the forcefulness.

The rest of the spanks came and went, leaving both of them breathless and stinging. Harry reached up and grabbed (Y/n) by the hair to pull her on all fours, his other hand removing the pillow from under her hips before running his fingers over her pussy.

“Y’not gonna do tha’ again, are you, petal?” He said smugly.

“No sir,” She hiccupped. 

A jolt ran through her as he gathered her wetness and began circling her clit with two fingers. 

“So sensitive, petal. Bet you almost came jus’ from me spankin’ you. Maybe you don’ need my cock after all? Maybe I should jus’ take care of myself and leave you here, what d’you think, petal? ”

She let out a pitiful moan. (Y/n)’s whole body was shaking; she was desperately trying not to come, her arms were shaking from holding herself up, and her breath was shaking from the stimulation of it all. She was almost there, almost ready to come when Harry suddenly let go of her hair and stopping playing with her pussy. Her arms gave out under her as she whined desperately at the loss of stimulation.

“Please! No, don’t leave me!” She sobbed. “I need it! Please give me your cock sir! I’ll be so good, I won’t come without askin’ please! Ple-”

“Okay, shh baby. Shh, ‘m gonna make y’feel so good. Y’such a good girl f’me.”

Harry leaned down and kissed up her spine gently. As he reached the base of her neck he grabbed the pink ribbon and ran it teasingly over her shoulders. “Color?”

She sniffled a bit before answering confidently, “Green, sir.”

“Tha’s my girl.” He pulled her up so she was kneeling and grabbed her arms, skillfully tying a cute little bow around her wrists. She wiggled a bit to make sure it was comfortable. Once she was settled, Harry pushed her back down into the pillow.

“What a sight. Must’ve been savin’ this for a rainy day, huh petal?”

She snorted at his joke but was quickly silenced by his finger sinking into her pussy. She hissed at the sensation, already a bit sensitive from the first orgasm he denied her. 

“Y’always so warm for me, lovie. So warm ‘n tight. Can’t wait for my cock, can you?”

She whined and pushed back on his fingers as he added another, thrusting in and curling to find her g-spot. “Please! I’ve been so good, I’m ready!”

He chuckled at her begging, letting his thumb pet over her clit again before pulling his fingers out of her after one final thrust. “Y’think you’re ready, baby girl? I know I am.”

“Mhmm,” she nodded. “I’m ready, I promise.”

Harry used the wetness he had gathered from fingering her and stroked himself a few times, exhaling heavily as some pressure was finally released. He grabbed the ribbon where her wrists were tied and lined himself up, pushing gently into her soaked cunt.

They both released a guttural moan as he moved in her; her walls tightening around him and his length rubbing inside her perfectly.

As she felt him bottom out she let out a sob that was stuck in her chest. “Fu-ck. Thank you! You feel so fuck-fucking good!” He growled in response, reaching around and playing with her clit again while he waited for her to get accustomed to his size. She choked out another moan and squirmed, crying “Please! You can move now, please fuck me!”

He pulled out until only the head of his cock remained in her cunt, and then thrusted back in experimentally. Her moan spurred him on, allowing him to continue to set a slow and rough pace. 

“Holy fuck, bunny. Y'feel so good,” Harry grit through his teeth. “I love this fuckin’ cunt, this ‘s all fo’ me, huh?”

She moaned and nodded as she squeezed his cock as tight as she could like a good girl. She wanted to behave, be his good girl. (Y/n) wiggled her hands at him as he continued to thrust. He got the hint and laced his fingers with hers. She let out a contented sigh that melted into a moan as his thrusting sped up. He loosened one of his hands from her grasp to reach down and stroke her button of nerves. 

She wailed in response, tears brimming in her eyes again from the overwhelming sensations attacking her. Harry was all that existed. He surrounded her, stopped playing with her bundle of nerves and reached his hand up to wrap around her neck, pulling her up to meet his kisses. All she could feel, smell, taste as he paused thrusting to slide his tongue into her mouth before slamming back into her and letting her drop back into the pillow. 

“Sh-shit baby girl. I can feel y'squeezin me, you’re almost there aren’t you?” She nodded in response, unable to form words. “Hold it jus’ a bit longer, I know you can do it. Fo’ me please, petal. Wanna feel tha’ cunt come with me.”

She shuddered as she fought to hold her orgasm back. Her cunt clenched and dripped down her thighs as Harry pounded into her as quickly as he possibly could without hurting either of them. 

“N-now! Come now, petal! Give it to me, baby. Come for me!”

(Y/n) came with a shout, her eyes shut as tightly as possible. Her whole body clamped down onto Harry’s cock as she came and came and came. Her orgasm pulled Harry’s out of him, milking him for everything he had. One final thrust had him filling her with his cum, both moaning at the feeling of her pussy being filled even more.

She slumped into the pillow, body feeling like pudding. Harry leaned over her as they both took a moment to catch their breaths, both spent and relaxed after their afternoon delight. Harry recovered first, gently pulling out of her cunt. She clenched around him as he left her, almost as if she was inviting him to stay.

He quickly untied her wrists, mind set on dealing with his spilled seed later. He delicately rubbed the tender area, gently kissing the indentations.

“Y’did so good for me, (Y/n), thank you baby,” he whispered to her. She looked at him with foggy eyes, the afterglow finally settling in. She hummed in acknowledgment of his praise, smiling softly at him. “I’ll be ri’ back, petal. I’ve gotta go grab stuff to clean you up.”

He ran as quickly as possible to grab water bottles and snacks from downstairs, before stopping for a wet washcloth and a change of clothes for her on the way back. He set the food and spoons on the bedside table before cracking open a water bottle for her.

“Can you sit up a mo’? I know your bum’s a bit sore.” He helped her sit up enough to drink the water he gave her. As she gulped down the water, thankful for the cool drink to sooth her heated throat, he gently wiped up the mess he made of her pussy. He ran and tossed the cloth into their ensuite sink, quickly returning to his love. 

“Can I rub some shea butter on your bum and wrists? It’ll help with the soreness, lovie.” 

She sleepily nodded before asking “Could you please pull my hair back? It’s sweaty and itchy now.”

He laughed at her cloudy state and grabbed one of their scrunchies off of the dresser and carefully tied up her hair. He then pumped some lotion into his hands, warmed it slightly and guided her to lay down on her tummy again so he could soothe the red marks. After a few moments, when her fogginess had cleared and they were giggling and cracking jokes as he jiggled her bum in his hands, he helped her get up and walk to the toilet so she could relieve and redress herself before heading to their bedroom with the snacks. 

(Y/n) climbed into bed, mindful of her sore bum, and excitedly grabbed the remote to turn on a movie for the couple to unwind to. Harry followed closely with two pints of ice cream and spoons -Chunky Monkey for her and Karamel Sutra for himself. They giggled again and settled down under the blanket as the opening scene to Clueless started on their television. 

Taking a bite of the ice cream, (Y/n) looked over at her boyfriend. “Hey Har?” He looked at her, mouth full. “Thank you for getting us ice cream even though there was a storm. And for letting me read to you. I hope you enjoyed your prize.” She winked at him with a huge grin.

Heartily laughing, he leaned over and landed a loud smooch onto her cheek. “Of course, anything for you my love.”

As she cuddled into his side, snacking on ice cream and watching this cheesy rom-com, he knew he needed to find a reason to excuse himself to the closet that evening.

[potatoes-is-are-food]

Demon Shit [Part 2]

I’m making this a whole ass series, we’re gonna call this the demon shit au or whatever, feel free to send in asks about it and stuff, and get ready for more parts!

| NSFW - no actual secs scene in this one

When you woke, you felt like you’d been hit by a train. You struggled to move, shifting a little and groaning. A light chuckle came from slightly above you and you pried your eyes open to look into Dabi’s cyan ones.

“Sore?” he teased, running his fingers through your hair. You gave him a look and he clasped his hand dramatically over his chest, “not the kicked puppy look, doll,” he pulled you close and inspected the bite on your neck, stroking along the marred skin carefully with his thumb before letting his hand rest on your shoulder.

“That doesn’t hurt anymore, right?” He asked, giving it a little tap. You craned your neck, reaching up to feel it yourself and finding only ridges like an old scar and not the gaping wound that it should be. You looked up at him, intrigued by the look of concern on his face, and shook your head.

“Good,” the corner of his mouth twitched up and he leaned in, placing a chaste kiss to your lips. You trailed your fingers lightly along his bare chest, skin catching on the metal of his staples.

“Do these hurt?” You asked, meeting his eyes again. He gave you an expression you couldn’t read.

“Yeah, but not to the touch,” he paused, “They’re sort of like a punishment. I’m not as nice to everyone as I am to you, little sacrifice,” he teased, half-smiling and planting another soft kiss to your forehead. You felt you shouldn’t press the matter, settling back into bed and burying your face in his chest.

He hummed, stroking your hair for a minute before giving your back a pat and detaching you from himself, standing and opening the curtains. The lighting outside hadn’t changed at all in the hours you’d spent in the house. He stretched, and your eyes moved across the taught muscles in his back and arms.

When he turned to face you again he materialized the same outfit he’d had on yesterday. He helped you stand, shaking a bit and clutching the soft, white bed sheet around your body. He sighed,

“Shit. Shouldn’t have ripped your dress,” he muttered, looking down at your little sheet-clad form.

“Can’t you make clothes?” You asked, giving the sleeve of his jacket a little tug. He shook his head,

“Nope. I can only do that to myself. Technically speaking they’re not real. And I can only do a couple things,” his hand curled under his chin, one finger tapping against his jaw. “It’s fine,” he said, ruffling your hair, “You just stay here for a bit and I’ll be right back, okay? Take another nap or bath or something.”

You shook your head, grasping his sleeve again tightly, “Don’t leave me here by myself,” you felt a lump form in your throat at the thought. This place wasn’t even real if your assumption of what a “pocket dimension” was was correct.

“It’s safe, sweetness,” he cooed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You shook your head, tears welling in your eyes as you pleaded with him with your expression. He tutted at you, giving your forehead a light flick.

“Less than an hour. Promise,” two fingers tilted your chin up as he leaned down, swiping his forked tongue along your lip and flicking it into your mouth when you opened for him, followed by his lips meeting yours. He groaned softly against you before pulling away, wiping away the strands of saliva that followed.

“Be right back,” he trailed his thumb down your cheek, planting one more brief kiss to your temple, and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. You followed, opening the door to find him gone.

With a little shiver, you pulled the sheet up around you tighter, bunching up the material so it wouldn’t drag behind as you explored the house. You went down the stairs, wincing as several places on your abused body flared in pain, and padded through a little sitting room. The whole house was like a doll’s house, and everything downstairs seemed to be fake. The sinks didn’t work and the fridge didn’t open, and you quickly grew bored, deciding to take Dabi’s advice and have another bath.

Entering the room he’d ...had you in, you took in the sight of the disgusting bed.  The blankets were bunched in various places, shredded in others, and the whole thing had pools and specks of blood, sweat, and cum on it. Your sacrificial dress was in shreds in the corner. You awkwardly turned away, into the attached bathroom.

You dropped the sheet in front of the mirror as you gasped at your reflection. Your hair was a mess, and your body was covered in bruises and scratches, mostly hand-shaped or matching the spacing of his staples. You hadn’t even noticed them scraping along your skin, but they definitely had. The bite he’d left looked like an old scar. You noticed your lips were a little swollen, too, and not just the ones on your face.

Starting the bath, you tried to comb through your hair with your fingers and splashed a little cold water from the sink on your face. You sat on the edge of the tub, blankly staring into space. Was this a dream? You knew the witch meant business, she’d told you if you fucked up her ritual she’d kill you and she definitely meant it. You laughed in spite of yourself at the thought. You’d fucked up the ritual and then fucked her demon.

Lowering yourself into the hot water you sighed, stretching and letting it soothe your sore muscles. You wondered what it meant to be a sacrifice. What did he mean when he said he was going to “keep you”? There was too much to try to sift through, so you pushed it all to the back of your mind and decided it didn’t matter. He clearly didn’t have any intentions of killing you or he’d have done it. And at least some part of him seemed to care about you. Your face burned whenever you tried to place your own feelings, though.

What you thought was roughly half an hour later you heard movement in the house. Feeling shy you grabbed the sheet off the floor and pulled it over the top of the tub, covering most of the rim. The footsteps stopped outside the door and Dabi knocked, opening the door without waiting for a response.

“Got you something to wear, little sacrifice,” he held up a bag from a store you’d never heard of, setting it aside and crouching beside you, “What’s this for?” He trailed his finger under the sheet, raising a brow at you. You felt your cheeks heat up and sank further into the water. He chuckled, grabbing the sheet as he stood and holding it out for you to use as a towel, keeping his eyes on yours.

You begrudgingly stood, cold air making goosebumps raise on your skin. Dabi wrapped the sheet around you and helped you out of the tub, rubbing the fabric over you to dry you off.

“So shy,” he taunted, running a thumb along your cheek affectionately. “I know I fucked you stupid earlier but you remember me seeing you naked, right?” He crouched, bunching the sheet up and drying your legs. Eye level with your hips, he reached and gently dragged a finger along your puffy, still sore folds, making you whimper.

“Poor little thing,” he withdrew his hand, placing a brief kiss to your pussy that made your breath hitch before reaching for the bag and rustling through it and producing a white dress, similar to the one he’d ripped off you, “We’re doing another ritual. The dress isn’t necessary but it’s traditional and you looked so cute in the first one.”

You stepped in, using his shoulder for support, and he pulled the soft material up your body until it was settled in place. It was very similar to the first one, but made out of sturdier material. You shifted a little, squeezing your thighs together uncomfortably.

“Um, Dabi?” Your brows knitted together as you looked up at him. He hummed in response, shifting through a different shopping bag, “Could I have some other stuff to wear with this? Like under it? And shoes…?” You trailed off, trying not to sound ungrateful for what he’d already given you. He gave you a wink,

“I’ve got ya, doll,” he lifted your feet one at a time, guiding them through the lace panties, pulling them up around your hips and giving the waistband a little snap. You stepped into the stockings he held up next, his hands gliding up your legs as he fixed them for you, planting a soft kiss on each knee as he finished.

“Why are you dressing me and stuff?” The question came out quiet and nervous as he pulled the dress down to affix a bralette around your chest.

“I take good care of my things,” he murmured, kissing the top of your head as he fixed your sleeves back into place. He reached into one of the bags and pulled out a long black coat, draping it around your shoulders. Pulling out a pair of boots and helping you step in, he tied the laces for you as you spoke,

“What are you going to do with me? After we summon your friend?” You fidgeted with the hem of your dress, not looking directly at him as he stood, adjusting the coat on your shoulders.

“Sacrifices usually live in pocket dimensions like this one. Sometimes their demons will let them stay in what you’d call the real world, but they can’t visit as often like that so it’s not as popular,” he explained, tilting your chin up to look at him, “I’m going to keep you in a bigger pocket  and you’re going to live there. I’m also gonna use you to summon my friends and they’ll be able to visit you. You don’t have to do anything, just keep a couple demons happy for a few thousand years.”

Your eyes widened and his hand wrapped around your shoulders to stabilize you.

“Thousand?” You gasped, gripping his wrist and gaping up at him. He laughed, flicking your forehead as he’d done earlier,

“Yeah. Thousand. You’ll live as long as I do so probably another six thousand or so,” he pressed his lips to the spot he’d flicked, clearly amused at your shock, “So,” he continued nonchalantly, “Time to go.” His fingers threaded through yours as he pulled you out of the bathroom and down the stairs.

Once you stepped through the front door with him the pocket dimension was gone and you’d stepped into a busy street, struggling to keep up with Dabi’s fast pace as he dragged you behind him. You tugged on his hand to try to get him to slow down, but he just tugged back, making you stumble a little. Pulling you off to the side he lifted you onto his back, continuing down the street quickly, weaving through the crowds of people easily.

“What’s your friend’s name?” You asked, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Tomura,” he paused for a second, “he’s… not as used to people as I am. Women especially. Just, uh, be aware of that,” he finished, still sounding unsure of his words. You tensed a little and he rubbed his thumbs gently along your thighs as he supported them.

The streets became less crowded as he carried you, eventually setting you down and holding your hand as you maneuvered through desolate alleys. You came to what looked like the back door to a business and Dabi entered, pulling you in behind him before slamming the door shut and leaving you both in darkness.

[stacispratt]

glorious fire

big thank u to @coffeebucko​ without whomst this fic would not exist <3 thank u for chatting with me about stacijacob & also putting your eyeballs on the first draft of this thing!! without further ado here’s jacob asking how staci would kill him as foreplay

also posted on ao3!

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“When you fantasize about escaping,” Jacob says, as he looks up from his Chosens' reports to rest his eyes on Pratt's rigid form, “how do you do it?”

Pratt, sitting on Jacob's bed, in the middle of scribbling notes on his clipboard, only locks up stares at him. His eyes are wide, knuckles white, like he can’t believe Jacob is even asking— he thinks it’s a loyalty test. It’s as plain as day on his face. He stays quiet, manages to slip the pen into the top of the clipboard despite shaky hands. He's thinking up the perfect response, the perfect string of words to please Jacob, to make him secure in Pratt's loyalty. His fear. 

That's not what he's looking for. Jacob’s not fucking stupid. No man in his right mind would think Pratt is loyal to him or Eden's Gate.

Silence sinks between them. The air sucks out of the room like a thunderstorm is about to break out, localized to just Jacob's bedroom, until Pratt looks like he might start to hyperventilate.  

But Jacob Seed doesn’t repeat himself. He doesn’t ask again. 

Instead, he sighs long and deep, and leans back in his chair. Looks back down to his records, though he doesn't read them. “When we were kids—Joseph, John, and me—we had some foster parents who worked us like dogs on their farm. Wouldn’t let us in the house, made us sleep in the barn." He taps his pen. "Beat us, too. Was doin’ my best to take the brunt of it, but one day I saw some bruises on John, even though he was just a damn baby.” Jacob pauses, glances over to Pratt, gauges his reaction. He's blank as stone, though there's something twitching in the corner of his mouth. Jacob hums once and sets his papers down. “So I burned the fucking barn down.”

He fixes his eyes decidedly on Pratt now, gaze hard and focused. Pratt's watching him back, like maybe he understands. Like maybe he knows better who Jacob is. What makes him tick, that— that what makes Jacob tick makes him tick, too.

“So, Peaches,” he says. “What barn are you burning?”

Pratt swallows so loud it clicks. Then he says, “I'd kill you while I shave your throat,” and Jacob smiles. He's not looking at Jacob anymore, he's staring at the floor— maybe the bloodstain on the unfinished concrete from when Jacob gave him the cut that now traces down the line of his cheek. His hands stay behind his back obediently, but his shoulders flex like maybe he's fiddling with his fingers. Weak, but Jacob can let it slide, so long as Pratt keeps outlining his escape plan. "And after– after you bleed out I'd disguise myself as a Chosen and escape."

Pratt's eyes fuzz out as he recalls his escape plan. It's not his realistic one, not a real plan. Jacob has seen him eye the weekly truck deliveries, sneak glances at the rotating guard schedule. Good. He's not stupid enough to tell Jacob his real plan. Just his favorite fantasy.

Jacob brings his hand to his face and rubs his mouth. "After. After I bleed out." He doesn't take his eyes off Pratt as his eyes rise from the floor to Jacob's face— first his finger perched on his lips, then to his eyes. He looks frightened, but not in the way he was at first. He doesn't look frightened of Jacob himself. More like he's frightened of his own thoughts, his own desires.

The thought has delight curling in Jacob's stomach. 

"Yes," Pratt husks. "Yes, I have things to… to say."

An honest to God smile pulls up the corner of his mouth. Jacob is careful to cover it with his hand. "Like what?"

After a moment, Pratt says, "I guess you'll have to find out," his muscles tense like he's ready to bolt.

Jacob's smile widens into a grin. He fucking laughs. "Guess I will, Peaches," he croons, as he taps his finger to his lips, just once. "When you get the guts to dig in the knife, I guess I will." He hesitates, smile fading, then prompts, "Show me how you'd do it."

Pratt's jaw closes so tightly the muscle visibly flexes. Controlling himself, his gut reaction, but right after he does, he pries his mouth open and chokes out, "How I'd—?"

"Kill me," Jacob finishes for him, as he stands and comes around his desk. His arms fall to his sides, while Pratt's come up to his chest defensively. Jacob only hums and tugs his desk's metal chair into the center of the room. Over the old blood stain. "Come here."

He waits until Pratt steps forward to sit, then unsheathes his hunting knife from its holster on his thigh and offers it over his shoulder without looking. 

Pratt hesitates for a heartbeat, then all at once swipes the knife from Jacob and presses it near instantly to his throat. Not hard, though— he'll need to press harder to kill Jacob.

But he never will.

Of course he won't. Jacob knows Pratt, and he won't. He'll never kill Jacob. He doesn't have it in him.

That's why he's never done it before when shaving Jacob. That's why he didn't do it in front of the Deputy. That's why he won't do it now. That's why it's only something Pratt thinks about late at night, lying on the dirt in a cage outside, when nightmares keep him awake.

Pratt takes a shuddering breath. Jacob tips his chin up in offering. He pulls the knife in toward him, and there's just enough bite to tell Jacob that Pratt actually managed to nick him. Warmth trickles down through the stubble on his throat and settles in the dip of his collarbone. 

Jacob clucks. "Not a bad spot, if you'd actually make the slice." He grabs hold of Pratt's wrist and yanks the blade up his throat— hard enough that he can feel the skin go red and irritated, with blood vessels burst just under his first layer of skin. Pratt's hand trembles under his, flutters around the knife handle. "But you won't have any time to whine and cry at me if you get my artery. You'd have to cut…" he trails off for a moment while he guides Pratt's hand through the killing motion, glides the knife oh-so-gently across his vulnerable throat. "Just here if you want time to watch the light leave my eyes, Peaches."

Pratt's breath hitches audibly. Jacob adds, "Would even leave me the air to give you a little conversation, if you like." When there's no response, Jacob drops his hand to his lap and prompts, "Your turn, Pratt. Make the fucking cut."

Pratt still doesn't speak. Jacob insists, "Escape. Don't you want to? Don't you want to crawl to the Whitetails, beg and plead them to help you now that you've killed the Big Bad Wolf?"

The knife rocks against his throat as Pratt readjusts his grip. There's more pressure against his skin for just a moment, almost enough to make him bleed again, and then Pratt lifts the blade away from him, drops it to the floor, and steps back.

Jacob lets Pratt feel the silence for a few heartbeats. Then he stands, retrieves his knife, and straightens his back to look at Pratt. He doesn't smile this time, just steps forward to Pratt's figure, still as stone, and gently pinches his jaw between his thumb and first two fingers.

He doesn't speak until Pratt's damp eyes rise to meet his.

"You understand, don't you?" he murmurs. "You're a smart boy." Pratt nods, jerky as if he's controlled by broken machinery. Jacob strokes his jaw with the tip of his pointer finger. "Good. You're mine. And nobody else in this county— no Whitetail, no Hope County Cougar, no piece of their Resistance— is ever going to take care of you the way I do."

They breathe together for a few moments. Pratt's eyes have fallen shut, though tears still glisten at the corners and along his lashes. Jacob thinks absently how he wants to make Pratt cry until there's no more tears left in him— until there's no horror left worse than anything he's already felt.

"There's nothing for you out there," Jacob says. Promises. Reassures. "There's only me."

Pratt doesn't say a word, but Jacob hears him all the same:

Only you.

Jacob lingers. Strokes his thumb over Pratt's lip.

Pratt opens his eyes at the sensation, stares up with those wide brown eyes— Jacob exhales softly and sinks down to press their lips together. Slides his thumb out of the way just in time, drags the corner of Pratt's mouth down as he slots their lips together. Pratt's breath shakes out of him. Jacob swallows it up.

"Staci," he murmurs, and clenches his hands on Pratt's hip and the back of his neck when he shudders in response. Jacob holds him steady, no longer kissing him, though their lips still brush. He doesn't move. He waits for Pratt.

Who takes one more halted, shivery breath, then steps abruptly back from Jacob.  He dips his head to escape Jacob's hold on his neck, then just stands there, three feet from him. Jacob hums. Runs his hand over his beard and rubs his knuckle into his chin. "Staci," he repeats, and it instantly draws Pratt's eyes to his— Jacob's never used his first name until now, and it's having just the effect Jacob hoped it would. He holds his gaze and doesn't move closer. Lets Pratt keep his distance. "We're all we can rely on. That's why we cull the herd. That's why we need to train them."

Pratt stares at him. Jacob can see the cogs turning in his mind. Can see him grinding up the we, trying to process it. Make it digestible. 

"Together," Jacob adds, without looking away. After a moment, he steps forward, pats Pratt's cheek, then steps to the door and twists the handle. "Bring me a report on the Bliss supplies by ten. See you tonight, Peaches."

Alone in Jacob's bedroom, Staci brushes his middle finger over the developing scar on his right cheek. He follows it down to his mouth, and presses his first knuckle to his lips.

Staci, Jacob says in his mind, Together.

[fnf-brain-rot]

Whitty x Boyfriend

                         Chapter 6 - should we?

                                NSFW WARNING

Boyfriend decided to stop by Pico's. Again. Well, Pico couldn't complain. The little blue haired guy had been watching over Whitty as if he had a child for over a week now. Pico just didn't like how early he came over. 12 PM is too early.

"Hey Pico! Gee, you look tired." Boyfriend leaned against the doorway, as if he were trying to look cool or something. Pico simply grumbled something under his breath and walked away from the open door, and Boyfriend took that as an invitation to let himself in. Pico walked into his living room, flopping face first onto his couch. "Couldn't sleep again?" Bee called to him, making his way to the kitchen to make TEA. Drinking coffee everyday was just gonna hurt him. Pico grunted loudly in response.

Bee smiled a little to himself, easily maneuvering around his kitchen as if he lived there himself. Well, at one point he actually did. That's why he and Pico are so close. He couldn't say they never had any awkward sort of encounters with each other, in fact he remembers those the most. He hummed as he put the tea pot on the stove, a blush creeping onto his cheeks. If he were to be honest, he kind of avoided Pico for a while. He began feeling funny around him all the time, and figured once he moved out, the feeling would probably go away. Pico seemed confused about his distant behavior, and even distanced himself with fear that he had done something wrong.

Boyfriend came out with the tea a few minutes later, noting the light snoring coming from Pico. He somehow managed to fall asleep. He laughed a bit to himself, then grabbed the blanket on the top of the couch to cover him with. It was a little chilly in his place. He would have to drink his tea though. Perfectly good Earl Grey tea should not go to waste.

________________________________________________________________________________

Pico awoke about two hours later, though he immediately sat up in remembrance of the company he had over. "Bee?" He called out, to what he was hoping was an empty apartment. He let out a quiet yawn, rubbing one of his eyes with his knuckle, a bit too harshly. He grunted and stood from the couch. He didn't get a response, which led him to believe he was alone. The coffee table was suspiciously clean. "I told him to stop touching my shit when I knock out." He muttered to himself. He just hoped he stayed out of his room. The thought made him cringe, and filled him with an anxiety to go check.

Removing his shirt, he still felt hot even though he turned the air on, he made his way to his bedroom first. The door was closed, but that doesn't mean he didn't go in though.

Swinging the door open, he took a  moment to scan his faint eyes across the empty room. It looked untouched, compared to the cleanliness of the rest of his apartment. He let out a breath of relief, but it was short lived as he heard his front door open. "Pico?" Boyfriend's voice called into the home. He must have seen that Pico wasn't lying on the couch anymore.

"Yeah, I'm here." Pico responded, shutting the door closed behind him before going back out to greet the blue haired midget. Once he could see him, he took note of all the plastic bags in his arms. "Did you go shopping??" Pico made a face of confusion, and Boyfriend smiled. "Yep! You had absolutely nothing in your fridge, so I went and bought you some stuff I knew you liked." He held up one of the bags. Pico could damn there smell the mini apple pies. "I.. told you about doing that shit.." The ginger crossed his arms and looked away, feigning irritation, but Bee simply laughed it off. "You want one?" he reached into the bag and took out one of the packages. Pico intensified his look, but still took the apple pie regardless.

"Go ahead, sit down, I'll put up the groceries." Boyfriend  offered, but Pico grabbed his hand to stop him. "No, bee, you're the guest here. You don't have to." The ginger sighed softly. Boyfriend huffed in frustration, gently pushing him away. "You go sit down. I got this." He continued his way into the kitchen, and Pico simply huffed with an eye roll. He was so sweet. He hoped that guy wasn't taking advantage of that.

Boyfriend made them normal turkey sandwiches for lunch, knowing Pico was a simple man. They ate together in the living room while watching family guy, proposed by Pico of course. Boyfriend would watch what Pico wanted, he honestly didn't mind.

"Hey, Pico?" The ginger hummed with his mouth full, then glanced back at the other when he didn't speak moments later. "Don't you get lonely in here? I know people are in and out of your apartment, but like.." Boyfriend stopped talking when he noticed the odd look on Pico's face. "I mean like! Ugh.. nevermind.." He looked down dejectedly at his sandwich, a temporary silence enveloping the two.

"Yeah.." Boyfriend's head shot up, a blush creeping up on his face. "Yeah, it feels pretty empty in here sometimes, especially ever since you left." Pico admitted honestly. An awkward silence claimed their surroundings a second time, and Boyfriend was regretting saying anything like that. Pico only ate half his sandwich before he felt like he couldn't touch it.

"I was supposed to meet this guy last weekend." He found the will to speak, finding the silence unbearable. It was Monday now. "What happened?"

"He couldn't find the will to come. He had already met Gigi that Friday, and one person at a time was good enough for him." Bee answered softly, glancing down at Pico's hand, resting peacefully on the couch beside him. He was there for that one scar on his hand. He was trying to cook something fancy with Nene and Darnell, and managed to cut himself real bad. He was sure the other two don't let him live it down.

Pico hummed in response. Once Boyfriend was able to stand on his own two feet, he moved out, even though he didn't really want to. He thought it was out of pure laziness, but there were other emotions tugging at him as well. He never had a good chance to address them.

"I'm sorry."

Boyfriend looked up to Pico quickly. He was now staring back at him. "I know living with me gave you a hard time. I'm not the most stable person." Boyfriend quickly shook his head. "No, no it wasn't like that!" He felt himself gently grab the ginger's hand. Pico tensed a bit at the sudden touch, then slowly made eye contact again. "I mean we both had our moments, I understand you go through a lot of shit, but like.. I don't regret living with you. I appreciate you for letting me stay with you until I got myself straight." he wanted to make it clear to him that he wasn't distancing himself.

Pico clicked his tongue, turning away again, mostly to hide the heat flaring in his face. Boyfriend gave his hand a gentle squeeze, though he couldn't help but laugh. "Are you flustered?" He teased him, and Pico grunted. "Fuck off, your face is red as hell." They both laughed at each other. "Look at me, dumbass." Bee then demanded, and Pico rolled his eyes, finally facing him again.

They were much closer than he remembered, but it didn't bother him. "You know this is cliche as fuck, right?" Pico then commented, making Boyfriend burst out into laughter, pushing his face away. "Damn, see look you ruined it!"

"Maybe you should have moved a little faster!"

"Maybe you should stop being such a pussy!"

Pico cocked an eyebrow at him. "Oh yeah?" Without warning, he pushed forward, pressing their lips together. It was a little rough, but Boyfriend being involved held a touch of gentle sweetness. They both damn there melted into each other, Pico pushing the other onto the couch, while Boyfriend wrapped his arms around his neck. They were glad to know it seemed like they had both been waiting for one or the other to make the first move for ages.

Pico trailed a hand up Boyfriend's thigh, and the other gave him permission to move further. Bee slid his hands under his shirt past the collar, feeling at the other's rough, freckled skin with loving strokes. They pulled away to breathe, panting softly and staring into each others eyes.

god he was beautiful..

"You sure you.. you want to?" Pico hesitated on his actions, but Boyfriend nodded quickly. "Of course I want to.." He smiled a little, pressing his hand against his face and gently dragging his thumb over his ear.

Pico hid the grin on his face by leaning down, leaving gentle kisses along his neck and collarbone. He pushed his knee against his crotch area, making Bee whine into his ear. he could already feel him growing hard, though he himself was too.

Pico was quick to take off Bee's sweatpants, and Boyfriend swiftly removed Pico's shirt. He couldn't help but run his hands along the scars slowly. He knew they weren't good, but by god did they look hot on him. Their breaths grew heavy as Pico trawled his hand along his straining briefs, giving him a gentle squeeze through the cloth. "Pico.." Bee managed out, triggering the butterflies in the ginger's stomach.

Pico wasn't really big on foreplay, and Boyfriend seemed to get the message when he tugged on his underwear. "Here, l-let me.." He turned it around, pushing Pico onto his back instead. "Wh- huh?" Pico made a face, though a blush spread on his features as Boyfriend pulled his pants and underwear down enough to allow his erection to spring up to action.

bee licked his lips. He hadn't done this before, but he was eager to try. He trailed his tongue up the side of his length, making the ginger groan at how slow he was going. He then pushed his girth past his lips, going down about mid way before he felt the gag reflex kick in. "Fuck, Bee.. shit.." Pico resisted the urge to buck his hips. He'd probably kill him doing that. Boyfriend pulled off, his face red, lips parted, gasped for air. It was an odd feeling.. He kinda liked it..

He squeezed the base of his cock, then went down on him again, making sure there was enough saliva to act as lube for their next act. "Jesus where did you learn this?" The taller man chuckled softly, biting his lip as he watched Boyfriend pull off again. "Uhh.. Just tried different things.." He laughed sheepishly, wiping the drool from his cheek.

Once he was wet enough, Boyfriend leaned back, spreading his legs open invitingly and holding them at his ankles. Pico's face couldn't get any more red. God he was so fucking hot.. "B-Be gentle.. I haven't done this before.." Pico nodded, leaning over him. He rested his hands on both sides of his head against the arm of the couch, pressing himself against his puckering little hole. They probably should have prepped first, but they were both too eager, too ready for this.

Pico slowly pushed in, and Boyfriend tried not to tense too bad, since tensing only makes it worse, however it did hurt like hell. He gently grabbed the other's hand and squeezed, Boyfriend eagerly squeezing back. Bee only whimpered, then breathed in a shaky gasp. Pico would pause every couple inch until he was fully inside him. He couldn't help but stroke Bee's cheek, watching him tremble with muffled whines and keens of pain and pleasure.

"You.. you can- ahh!!" Boyfriend moaned out surprisingly loud. Pico groaned as Bee constricted around him, tensing and relaxing over and over from every movement. He pulled out, then quickly pushed back in. Boyfriend arched his back and let out a high cry, his eyes rolling back from the sheer intense feeling of pleasure that washed over him.

Pico did move gently as he asked him to, his moan rumbling in his chest above the smaller. "O-Oh god.. Pico..! Ffuck..!" Boyfriend wiggled his hips a bit as he got used to the feeling, and Pico took that as a sign to go faster. "You take dick real good for it being your first time.." He mumbled to him, situating his hands on his hips in order to gain more control of his thrusts.

"Faster..! Faster Pico..!!" Boyfriend had thrown his arms above his head, which dangled over the side of the couch arm. He wrapped his legs around Pico's waist, finding them growing tired from just sitting in the air. Pico  happily obliged, smiling a bit at how eager he sounded. It did make him happy how easy he could please him though. Boyfriend's body began to shake, and his moans and cries took on a higher pitch. Pico knew he was close, and so was he.

With a few more thrusts, Bee tensed and threw up one of his legs, cum sputtering from his cock all over himself and his torso. The sight alone was enough for Pico to release his seed into him. He went on for a good few seconds, then finally pulled out after about a minute. They both panted heavily, Boyfriend's eyes already beginning to flutter from how tired he felt after their little endeavor. "That was.. so good.." He breathed out drunkenly, making Pico chuckle at his cute demeanor. "Yeah? Maybe we should do it again sometime.." He leaned down and kissed his lips again, ignoring the messy drool on his face. "Come on, let's clean up."

"Mh.." Boyfriend could only moan tiredly in response. Pico sighed lightly, then picked him up, knowing he was gonna make him do all the work.

________________________________________________________________________________

Boyfriend woke up abruptly, glancing around himself in confusion. Oh, this was Pico's room. When did he fall asleep? He was in his bed, wearing one of Pico's shirts and a pair of his boxers. He yawned and stretched his arms, though he felt another body next to him. "Oh you're up?" Pico's gruff voice sounded, and he looked over to see the ginger looking at him, a small smile on his face. It made Boyfriend smile also. "Sorry for knocking out on you. It was.. intense.." He blushed, and Pico laughed a little at him. "You look cute when you sleep.." He mumbled softly, and Bee made a face. "What? That's weird.." He teased him, and Pico rolled his eyes.

Boyfriend suddenly felt like he was missing something. Something important, and he knew what that something was. "Oh shit, what time is it?" He sat up quickly, and Pico frowned. "It's like seven thirty, why?"

Whitty has been alone at home all day! Fuck!

"Fuck, I gotta go.." He threw the blanket off of him, causing Pico to sit up as well. "He can handle himself can't he? Isn't he a grown man?"

"Well yeah! But.. He needs me.."

"I need you!"

Pico's retort made him pause and look at him. God, he did feel terrible about dipping on him like this. But Whitty.. He'll think he abandoned him. He wouldn't be surprised if he left the house completely at this point. "I..I'm sorry, Pico.." He mumbled. "I-I'll come back though I will! I swear I'm not blowing you off!"

Pico wore an unreadable expression, though he looked away and lied back down. "Yeah, okay." The words came out harshly, and Boyfriend winced. God he felt like shit. He stared at him for another moment, then left his bedroom, grabbing his pants to leave.

He thought about Pico the whole walk home, and even worse it had started to rain. He had to text him or something, but just knew he wouldn't respond. Not quickly anyway.

He unlocked the front door of his apartment, and quickly stepped inside, but was immediately greeted by the tight embrace of his large bomb man. "Thank god you're okay! You've been gone all day I thought someone hurt you or you got lost or maybe-maybe-" Bee quickly shushed him, laughing a little into his shoulder. "It's okay Whits, I'm here. I wouldn't leave you like that. I was.. running errands." He mumbled softly. Whitty pulled away, tear streaks on his own face. Boyfriend's heart broke. Had he been crying?

"You look sad, what happened? Did someone hurt you.. emotionally?" Whitty asked him softly, and Bee laughed again, dry this time. "No.. no.." He muttered. "I'll tell you about it later. You want dinner?" He offered, finally kicking off his shoes when Whitty gave him space at last. Whitty nodded eagerly. "I'm hungry.." He then informed him, pouting a little. He really did make Boyfriend smile..

[abaikgirl]

No 5 friendly fighting drabble for Nightmight pls? (Have a great day x)

Send me a number and a ship for a Friendly Fighting drabble

Aw, thanks! I have to say, this is probably my favorite drabble I’ve written for these asks so far. I hope you enjoy!

----------------------------------

To say All Might was nervous to visit Nighteye was a gross understatement. He had seen him briefly right after the Overhaul raid, when the doctors were still unsure if he would survive his injuries. They had exchanged a brief flurry of words, neither sure if it would be their last conversation. All Might mostly remembered the things he wished he would have said to him. 

I’m sorry for not listening to you. 

I should have never pushed you away. 

If I don’t see you after this then I want you to know that I...I’ve always...

The unspoken words swirled in his head as he walked the halls of the hospital, his hands worrying the plastic wrapping on the bouquet of flowers he carried. As he approached Nighteye’s room, he could hear voices. All Might stopped just outside of the open door, listening to the lively conversation inside. 

Midoriya and Mirio had made a habit of visiting Nighteye while he was in the hospital. He didn’t have much family and the boys had taken it upon themselves to make sure he had plenty of company while he recovered. 

Miro was recounting the events of the cultural festival. “...and then there was a big flash like woosh,” Mirio said, “and Eri-chan was so happy. I had never seen her smile so big! I wish you could have seen it, Sir.” 

“I do as well,” Nighteye replied. “From what I’ve heard, the entire performance was quite spectacular.”

“Yes, Midoriya-kun did a great job,” Mirio replied. 

“Well, it was mostly thanks to Jiro-chan for organizing the band and writing the music,” Midoriya insisted. “I was barely on stage because they needed my help with the special effects.”

“That part is equally important,” Nighteye said.

Midoriya, uncomfortable with all the praise, changed the subject. “Eri asks about you often, Sir. You should come and visit UA when you feel up to it, I’m sure she would love to see you.”

“I plan on it,” Nighteye replied. “It’s the least I can do to repay you both for all of your visits.”

All Might smiled to himself. He knew Nighteye and Midoriya had gotten off on the wrong foot, but it sounded like that poor first meeting was long forgotten now. 

All Might stepped into the room and cleared his throat. The three of them turned to look at him. Midoriya lit up and jumped to his feet. “All Might! You made it!”

“Yes. I apologize for my lateness, I was detained at UA.” Not a total lie, he had been wrapping up some grading, but he was honestly just procrastinating. This would be the first time in many years that he and Nighteye spoke on a one on one basis and what was left of his stomach churned at the prospect of it. 

Nighteye’s expression was unreadable as he looked at him from his hospital bed. All Might was aware of his empty sleeve and did his best to not stare. 

Mirio jumped to his feet. “You can have my seat All Might. Midoriya-kun and I were just going to go get something to eat, right?”

Midoriya jolted as Mirio’s words sunk in. “Y-yes. We’ll be back later.”

“You don’t have to leave on my account,” All Might began, but Mirio was pushing him into his seat and Midoriya took the bouquet of flowers from his hands and set it in one of the many vases that sat on the window sill. Most of them were already full of flowers sent by Nighteye’s sidekicks and other pros who worked the Overhaul raid with him.

“It’s not on your account,” Mirio said with a grin and he and Midoriya left. 

All Might watched them go feeling a little betrayed. He had agreed to this visit because he thought he would have Mirio and Midoriya as a buffer. Now it seems the two of them had conspired to force them to talk alone. All Might turned around and saw Nighteye looking at the flowers he’d brought. 

Despite the fact that he had lost quite a bit of weight from his injury and his hair wasn’t as perfectly styled as it usually was, when All Might looked at his profile he felt his breath catch. 

Even after all these years, Nighteye was as handsome as ever. 

“Sunflowers?” Nighteye asked, his voice low and quiet. 

“Yes,” All Might rubbed the back of his head. “They’re still your favorite, right?”

He nodded. “They remind me of you, the way your hair looks when it’s loose...like now…” 

All Might felt blood rush to his cheeks. Nighteye was still a romantic. “Young Midoriya says your recovery is going well.”

“Yes. I should be strong enough to be discharged in a week or so. If they don’t have to do another surgery.”

“We’ll have matching scars.”

“I suppose we will.”

They lapsed into awkward silence. It was hard for All Might to find those unsaid words. He had faced down countless villains and disasters and yet in the face of his former sidekick all of his courage left him. That was how it always was with Nighteye. There was something so disarming about him that could reduce even All Might to a trembling mess. 

“I’ve been thinking about the future,” Nighteye said at last. He sat back, gazing unseeing at the ceiling. “Eri-chan and Midoriya-kun have changed the future I had seen and now I’m not sure what to do with myself. I didn’t think I would live this long.” He paused for a moment, struggling to find the right words. “I’m not used to being wrong.”

“I never expected to live this long either, so I understand how you feel.” He thought back to their last conversation, in another hospital, many years ago. Their argument that even now still haunts All Might, Nighteye’s words still echoing in his ears whenever he thought of him. 

“You said you hated me.”

All Might’s words made Nighteye finally look at him, his brow wrinkling in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“The last time we spoke, when you tried to warn me of the future you saw...you said you hated me.”

Nighteye frowned. “I did not.”

“I remember--”

“I said I hated how you never listened to me. That’s completely different.” He turned away, looking at the flowers again. “If anyone said ‘I hate you’ it was probably you.”

All Might gaped at him. “I would never--how could I hate you?”

“I broke my promise. You would be justified if you hated me for it.”

“Well, you were always the one to say thoughtless things, so it was definitely you who said it.”

Nighteye’s shoulder shook and for a moment All Might thought he had upset him. Then he noticed how his remaining hand was to his face, trying to stifle the laughter bubbling out of him. It had been so long since he had heard Nighteye laugh. 

It was a beautiful sound. 

“Why are you laughing?” All Might asked, unsure what he had said that was so amusing. 

“This is the dumbest thing we have ever argued about,” Nighteye said with a snort.

All Might found himself laughing as well. He knew Nighteye hated his own laughter, but All Might found it adorable. “I guess it is pretty stupid.”

Nighteye paused in his laughter, clutching his side with a gasp of pain. All Might reached for him. “Are you alright?”

“Fine. It just hurts to laugh.”

“S-sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” He removed his glasses to wipe the tears from his eyes. “It’s the most I’ve laughed in a long time.”

“I missed your laugh,” All Might admitted. “I’m glad I got to hear it again.”

Nighteye rolled his eyes. “Only you would miss something so terrible.”

“It’s not terrible. I’ve always liked it.”

“That makes one of us.”

Out in the hall, Mirio and Midoriya looked at each other and smiled. Midoriya didn’t think it was ok to eavesdrop like this, but Mirio was worried that Nighteye might get too agitated being left with All Might like this and wanted to be able to step in if things got too heated. Satisfied the risk of that had passed, Mirio gave him a thumbs up and they walked away, leaving the two old pros to continue their talk for a while longer.

[therewasatale]

guest

On Ao3.

The hot steam swirled around the bath, trying to find its way out from every opening into the tiny room.

Inside there were a hand-basin, a wall-mounted towel dryer, a toilet and a shower were placed. An average man would have been just comfortable enough, but, just like many times before, Father Alexander Anderson had to be careful not to bump his head against the shower head, accidentally kick the toilet, or just hit something of him against the basin.

He always preferred to stay in churches if it was possible. Those rooms weren’t much larger either, but at least the puritan furniture was closer to his taste. However, there were occasions, like this one, when he was forced to take out a room in a small motel. Even if only for one night.

Carefully he stepped out of the shower and took a towel from the rack. His dirty and torn clothes were laid out on the edge of the hand basin.

He slowly rubbed his blond hair into the towel as he glanced at his reflection.

The figure looking back at him has hardly changed in the last 30-35 years. He saw his body as what it was supposed to be, what he was trained into over the years. A warrior who sends all the unbelievers to hell. A weapon by which God could punish those who turned away from him.

The Lord created him to be an Iscariot.

At least that’s what he was told each time he withstood another trial. Come any challenge, his body and soul refused to falter.

He gently touched the circular scar on his chest with the tip of his fingers.

Even today, he was able to relive the pain he felt when he was given the ability to regenerate. It was the last and most difficult trial before he could fully become a weapon.

It was as if he were burning in a fire coming from within, and then the flames were joined by needles, which he could have sworn moved through his veins. His heart almost tore himself out of its place. His muscles twitched and then tensed just barely a hairbreadth from tearing themselves off his bones. A roar erupted from his throat that he could hardly believe afterwards that it belonged to him. By the time he felt he couldn’t take it any longer, the pain suddenly began to fade and then vanished.

He shook his head slightly and focused his attention back to the present, as he looked at his reflection again.

Almost nothing changed on the outside with the possible exception of his eyes. The eyes he inherited from his mother, whose face he could no longer recall.

The sky-blue eyes seem to have darkened over the years. There was no childish purity in them anymore. Despite his stature, he had heard many times that his eyes were what really attracted people’s attention.

With a soft breath, he began to wipe himself off. Even so, his mind wandered enough for today. He was too tired for daydreaming.

He could hear the sound of closing door; it was so quiet that it was on the very edge of perception. He knew very well that the door was locked. He reached towards the edge of the basin for his dress and it didn't take much searching to feel the grip of the bayonet.

Drawing the blade, he immediately stepped to the bath door, spreading it open.

The small bathroom opened directly into the bedroom.

Steam gushed out flowing around the priest's naked body.

"Oh!" Alucard looked up from the hotel room bed, and looked Anderson up and down, who in turn was frozen in surprise. "Taking a nice bath are we, Father?"

The bayonet struck the headboard just a few inches above Alucard's head. Then the door to the bathroom slammed shut, just to open up again a couple of minutes later, by a fully dressed Father Anderson.

"Get out." The father's murmuring voice wasn't nearly as threatening as he wanted it to be.

"I can't, they say a big snowstorm is coming."

"You're a vampire, go home to your master." The priests dirty and bloody clothes landed in a trash bag, which was then placed into a backpack. He laid his clean cassocks on the small table by the bed. He was wearing a really simple black pants and a white shirt now. The setup somehow significantly accentuated his stature and build.

As he packed his clothes away, he felt the vampire's gaze still on his back. He needed a few moments to slow his heartbeat and only then, he turned back.

"Why are you here?"

The vampire grinned and folded his arms under his long black hair.

"I wanted to get a room, but I was told at the front desk that all of the rooms had been taken. The last one was occupied by a priest." Alucard was visibly amused as he told the story. "I thought I'd help myself out. Plus, look how lucky I have been." He ran his hand over the blanket. "You booked a king-sized bed, just enough for two people."

"There was no other free bed," Anderson murmured as he tried to suppress the blush that spread through his face. "Why am I even trying to excuse myself here at all? Get out of my room and let me rest!"

The priest laid down at the other end of the wide bed, turning off the lights after him.

It didn’t take too long for him to feel and hear his self-appointed roommate squirm closer on the bed.

"You know, you didn’t protest too hard, don’t you?" The vampire asked, snuggling almost completely against to his back.

"What do you want?"

"Would you believe me if I said I just wanted to talk to you?" Alucard's voice sounded quite different, but Anderson knew he was still grinning. For now, however, he refused to respond.

"On the other hand, I'm almost certain that the Vatican will be banned from this place." The vampire prodded the bayonet protruding from the headboard with a finger, producing a small twang.

Anderson snorted turning towards the vampire. "You wanted to talk, yet what did you want to talk about after we're done with our job, you mouthy vampire?"

The father froze in surprise for a second time during the evening for a few moments. His eyes widened in shock first, then slowly closed as the vampire snuggled even closer, kissing him. He left himself be pushed down. He buried his fingers into the dark locks of hair and pulled the vampire closer to him.

"So, why are you here?" Anderson stroked Alucard's face and drew tiny circles on his skin with his thumb.

"Um? Oh, I seem to have forgotten."

"You little," the fat snorted, rising slightly, just enough so that their lips were just barely touching.

"Mm, now I starting to clearly remember something." Alucard placed a small kiss on the priest's face and then again on his forehead. The vampire's eyes glowed red and Anderson felt his body becoming hotter.

"And what would that be?" He swallowed.

"Your eyes are really beautiful. Especially when you're embarrassed or when you're fighting."

The heat was no longer constrained to his body, it spread to his face too.

"You'll be here and bothering me all night, won't you?" Anderson found it very difficult to tear his gaze away from the vampire. As an answer he just chuckled and snuggled up to his side, embracing him.

"You've developed an almost detective like sense of deduction, in addition to being a good fighter, Anderson."

Anderson gave out a big snort.

The priest held on for a good few seconds, but then he just gave out a big sigh. The weapon of God, the dog of the Vatican, the Judas' priest. He was called many things, but for now all these names were pushed into the background.

He embraced the vampire closer and slowly began combing his hair with his fingers.

"Alright, then stay. One night."

"One night," Alucard agreed with a smile.

Anderson even gave a kiss on the vampire's forehead before fatigue taken hold of him and then fell asleep.

[queenxxxsupreme]

Hi Love!

Can I ask for Lambert having soft spot on reader and actually taking care of her but still being asshole around her? And Eskel developing feelings for her, but feeling really bitter about her relation with Lambert. And one day wolves were drinking together and Lambert blurted out that reader may be interested in Eskel because she often talks about him and stares at him from afar.

A/N: This might have turned into a two part-er but I’m not sure, it just depends on how everyone likes/doesn’t like this, but anywho I did change this a bit because I wanted to keep Eskel’s feelings/reactions in character but I hope you like this! Also, I really enjoy making Lambert the reader’s wing man xD

***

You hummed softly as you brushed Scorpion’s coat. You had busied yourself all afternoon with tending to the animals in the stable at Kaer Morhen, wanting to help Eskel out and take some of the responsibility off of him. He was usually the one to tend to the animals after all. He claimed the goats- Lil Bleater especially -and he seemed to have an affinity for the few hens kept in the stable as well as the horses. Even Roach, who rarely let anyone aside from Geralt touch her, preferred Eskel’s company. 

“Hope you’re gonna brush out mine next.” Lambert spoke as he moved into the stable atop Champion, his horse. “Wouldn’t want ole Champ feeling left out, would you?”

“You can brush him while I finish up Scorpion’s mane.” 

“That’s not fair. You’re picking favorites.” He climbed down from Champion. He guided the horse down to the stable on the very end, peeking into Roach’s stable. “Roach didn’t even get brushed down!” 

“That’s because Roach is very picky about who brushes her. If Geralt was here, she’d be okay with me brushing her. But since he isn’t around, she wants nothing to do with me.” You glanced over to Roach’s stall. The mare was peering out of her stall, eyeing you. “She’s only giving me attention now because she knows I have carrot pieces in my pockets.”

“I swear, Geralt keeps picking meaner and meaner horses every time.” Lambert sighed, shaking his head. He approached you, holding his hand out. “Gimme one of those pieces of carrots for Champ.”

“Brush him down.” You said as you placed the chunk of carrot into the witcher’s palm. 

Lambert rolled his eyes. He moved back to Champ, patting the horse’s shoulder. 

“Sorry, boy. Guess it doesn’t surprise me Y/N doesn’t like you much.”

“Lambert.” 

“Her favorite is Scorpion. Big surprise, I know.” He muttered, unbuckling the saddle. 

“I don’t pick favorites!” You exclaimed, placing the brush and picked a different one up for Scorpion’s mane. 

“Sure you do! Why else would you spend all day out here in the stables of all places tending to a bunch of stinking animals and brushing down one horse?”

You glared at Lambert out of the corner of your eye. 

“Don’t worry, pipsqueak. Your secret is safe with me.” Lambert put the saddle over a couple bales of hay and turned to face you, a sly grin coming to his lips. “But oh, the stories these horses could tell if they talked.”

“Shut up, Lambert.”

“All the conversations we’ve had around them.” He snickered, pulling off the saddle blanket and throwing it over the wall to Champion’s stall. Lambert paused to think about the different conversations. He scrunched his nose up. “Like a couple of teenage girls.”

“Lambert!” You groaned.

“I’m just teasing you, kid.” Lamberet chuckled. He picked up the brush you had put down and began to brush off Champion.

“You’re a dick.”

“That’s why you love me.” 

The doors to the stable opened and in walked Eskel. 

“Look what the cat dragged in.” Lambert said. 

“Lambert. Y/N.”

You gave the dark haired witcher a timid smile, nodding your head once in acknowledgement. 

“Y/N here’s spent nearly all day in here with your mangy animals, Eskel.” Lambert told him. 

“They aren’t mangy.” Eskel sighed, moving towards Scorpion. The horse perked his ears up upon seeing Eskel. “Thank you, Y/N. I appreciate it. You’ve saved me quite a bit of work.”

“It was nothing, Eskel.” You shook your head with a smile. “I was already in here brushing my own horse down. Figured I’d help out.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“It was no bother.”

Eskel nodded, a little smile tugging at the scarred corner of his lips. 

“Thank you again.”

You meant to do the polite thing and say you’re welcome or no problem, but all you found yourself doing was smiling stupidly at him and somewhat nodding your head. 

Lambert let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. No wonder you hadn’t gotten anywhere with Eskel. 

“Come on, Y/N.”

You turned your head to watch the young wolf leave the stable. You excused yourself from Eskel and slipped out, following Lambert towards the keep. 

“That was fucking painful.”

“Wh-What was?” You looked over at him, brows furrowed together. 

“That back there. Were you not there? Did you not feel the awkward tension in the air? You stood there like an idiot.”

Your stomach twisted up into knots. You crossed your arms and diverted your gaze to the ground as you walked. 

“M’only telling you this ‘cause I don’t want you to make yourself look like a fool again. Especially not around someone you…. someone you’re interested in.” Lambert pushed the heavy door to the keep open with his shoulder. 

“I-I didn’t think you’d be wanting us to….” You trailed off, following behind him. “He’s your brother.”

“Don’t make this any weirder than it has to be, pipsqueak.”

You put your hand on Lambert’s arm, making him stop. 

“Thank you, Lambert. For everything. For helping me and for-for not letting me make too much of an idiot out of myself.”

He looked down at you, a little grin creeping on to his lips. 

“Don’t worry, kid. You manage to do that by yourself just fine.” He patted your arm. “Come on. I need your help in the kitchen getting dinner ready.”

***

Dinner had long since been over. You went to bed some time ago, favoring a good book underneath a warm blanket rather than staying up and drinking with the wolves. 

The three brothers sat around the dinner table drinking and making conversation. Well, Geralt and Lambert were making conversation. Eskel was too busy gazing at his tankard to join his brothers. 

“You’re being awfully quiet.” Lambert commented, glancing over to Eskel. 

“Just tired.”

“Sure, buddy.” The young wolf rolled his eyes. “You’ve been staring at your drink all night like it might get up and walk away.”

Eskel shifted in his seat, shrugging his broad shoulders. 

“Been thinking, I guess.”

“About what?”

Eskel said nothing.

“What’s he thinking about, Geralt?”

“Why are you asking me?” Geralt swirled the liquor in the bottom of his mug around. 

“‘Cause you can practically read his mind. You two have some sort of weird twin power thing going on.”

“Except we aren’t twins.” Eskel pointed out.

“Right, which makes it even more weird and freakish. So come on. You wanna talk about what’s bothering you or do you want a distraction? I’ve got a good idea for a distraction.”

“About Y/N.” Geralt hiccuped. Lambert furrowed his brow. Eskel stiffened up, sending the White Wolf a glare. “It’s just Lambert, Eskel.”

“What about Y/N?” Lambert asked, slumping his shoulders a little. Were his brothers not as fond of his guest as he thought? It was your first winter at Kaer Morhen so there were bound to be some rocky moments, but he thought you were getting along with everyone just fine. 

“Nothing, Lambert.” Eskel shook his head. He didn’t want to start any sort of conflict, especially so early on in the winter. It would be literal hell to have to go the entire winter fighting with Lambert. 

“Was there a problem with her brushing down the goats and your horse this morning? If there was, I can talk to her about it. I don’t want her stepping on anyone’s toes. I didn’t think it was a big deal but if it was then that was my bad, brother.”

“No, it’s not that.” Eskel shook his head. 

Lambert nodded, dropping his eyes to his drink. 

“Huh.” He thought out loud. If it wasn’t about what you had done earlier that morning, then why were you on his mind? “You know she likes you right?”

Eskel’s head shot up, yellow eyes immediately finding his little brother’s.

“What?”

Lambert thought about what had just happened, the reality of what he had just said setting in. He cursed and rubbed his eyes, pushing his mug of liquor away from himself before he could do anything else that was stupid. 

“Cat’s outta the bad now I guess.” He sighed. “Uh, yeah. She’s, uh, liked you for a bit.”

“Since when?”

“I don’t know. She’s talked about you from time to time since she met you in Cintra last year.”

A little smile tugged at the corners of Eskel’s lips. Beside him, Geralt wore a smug grin. 

“I told you.” The white haired witcher nudged Eskel with his elbow. 

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Lambert told me when he and Y/N first arrived.”

“So you both have known for the last three weeks and you haven’t said anything about it?” Eskel looked between his brothers.

“We wanted to see if you two could work it out yourselves.” Geralt explained. 

“But watching you interact is fucking painful.” Lambert leaned back in his seat, rubbing his face with his hands. “Like a fucking kick to the balls, I swear. Eskel, I thought you had more charm to you than that, brother! I’ve seen you win over plenty of ladies in taverns. Why is Y/n any different than them?”

Eskel held Lambert’s gaze for a few moments before looking back to his tankard. He brushed his thumb over the wood. 

“I…. I thought you and her…. I just assumed that with the way you two always interacted….” Eskel trailed off.

Lambert dry heaved, putting his hand on his chest. 

“Me and Y/N? Oh gods, I’m going to be sick.”

“It wasn’t very far off to think that, Lambert. I mean, I’ve seen her leave your room late at night on more than one occasion and even early in the mornings.” Eskel’s tone became a little more hostile as he spoke. The topic made him upset. He didn’t like to talk about it. 

“Eskel, you’ve got it all wrong.” Lambert shook his head. “Y/N sometimes…. sometimes she has trouble sleeping, so she just comes to my room so I can keep her company. She knows I don’t sleep either and she likes to be an annoying little pain in my ass. But that’s all she is. She’s…. She’s like a sister to me, Eskel. That’s all our relationship is.”

Eskel said nothing for a while. 

“You’re sure she likes me?” He asked quietly. 

“I’d never lie to you about that, brother.”

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[wutroows]

kids (ezra bridger x reader)

pairing: ezra bridger x reader request: 21 and 47 with Ezra Bridger or Cody requested by anonymous prompt:  "i could never leave you, i love you too much!” +  "i want this to never end…” warnings: tooth rotting fluff. talks of death and loss, but it’s over nearly as quickly as it begins. tears (?? kinda). you are In Love.  a/n: here, ezra and reader are around 16-17, kanan isn’t dead here, but in the plot of rebels, it’d be pretty close to when that happens since ezra frequently talks about wanting to go back to lothal- i could also write something for cody with the same prompts, if wanted! i chose ezra because i love him and there really is barely anything for him on the internet at this point. hope you all enjoy!! 

(not my gif)

"ezra?”

“yeah?”

“it smells so bad in here.”

“well.. i share this room with zeb.” you heard him laugh from next to you, and you couldn’t help but do the same. the lasat, though kind when he wanted to be, did have a horrendous smell he carried with him. you were surprised that people couldn’t tell he was coming, you could swear you would be able to smell him from at least a few klicks away. 

though, no matter how bad the room smelled, you had ezra with you. over the years, the boy had become one of your closest friends and as much as you didn’t want to admit it, you’d started to develop a little crush on him. luckily, no one but you and sabine knew this information and you’d begged her to keep it a secret. she finally gave in to your request and you felt like you were about to sob on the spot. the last thing you wanted was ezra to find out about you liking him. he’d probably never look at you the same way again.

ezra’s arm was under your head, and you looked up at the ceiling above you. the room smelt horrible, but you couldn’t complain too much. you heard his breathing, steady and deep, from where you laid next to him on his bed. you’d met ezra by running into zeb, who took you back to the ghost because you’d hidden some of the things they ended up needing, and you teamed up a few times on lothal where they needed you.

now, kanan had a favor to ask of you. 

he had saved your life, he thought of it as you paying him back, but secretly, you did want to see ezra. 

“your hair is short now.”

“yeah..” it was quiet for a moment, and you felt ezra move around a bit as if he were nervous. “do you like it?” you nodded, “it suits you.” you told him, looking up at him with a small smile on your face. 

he was truly beautiful. inside and out. 

albeit at first, ezra was a bit self-centered, but after the crew of the ghost knocked some sense into him, he put everyone before himself and sometimes you wished he wouldn’t. his hair no longer came over his forehead, and with your back pressed up against the wall, you couldn’t see the two small scars across his cheek. you knew they were from the encounter a few years ago with that grey-skinned inquisitor you could care less about, all you really wanted was ezra to stay right where he was. 

you felt the ghost move into hyperspace, and you felt yourself inch closer to the warmth of the boy laying next to you, and you could’ve swore he moved back towards you. you brushed the thought out of your mind and instead focused on trying to make conversation, awkwardly, you spoke, “you look nice.” 

“as nice as a rogue like me could look.” he poked your side with his free hand and you laughed softly, “a rogue? ezra bridger? i thought you were a changed man!” you retorted and as you saw the corner of his eyes crinkle as he smiled, you felt your heart leap out of your chest. “maybe, but i’m still.. ah, whatever. still handsome, right?” 

you rolled your eyes, but begrudgingly agreed. “i guess, but handsome is being a little too generous for you.” you could hear him huff, and he slid his arm out from under you. “how mean!” he turned his back towards you, and he faced the wall now. you rolled your eyes, bringing your arm around his waist, bringing him against your chest. 

you could feel him relax into your touch, his hand laying on top of yours. 

“i want this to never end..” you heard him mumble, and your cheeks flushed at his words. never once had he been this intimate with you, if this were to even count as intimate at all, but with his back pressed against your chest and your head buried into his back, you felt you could say it was at least intimate. regaining your senses, you spoke back, “me too.” you were grateful he couldn’t see your face, but you knew he was force sensitive. he could probably feel your heart speed up whenever you saw him. 

“y/n?” 

you hummed in response. “you’ll be okay, right?” his tone seemed defeated, and his voice was quiet. his head seemed to shrink back into his shoulders, and your eyebrows furrowed. “come on, turn around.” you told him, and he slowly rolled on his side to face you. you propped your head up on your hand and you looked straight into his eyes. “i’ll be okay, ezra. you know i can fend for myself. how else do you think i survive on lothal?” his eyes were everywhere but your own, and you stared at him confusedly. “what’s wrong?”

“i just.. i lost my parents and.. i know i have sabine and.. and kanan, hera.. zeb, everyone.. but i just can’t lose you. especially you, y/n.” he finally looked straight into your eyes, and you sat straight up, sitting criss cross. you grabbed his wrists, pulling him along with you. your hands found his cheeks, your thumbs rubbing comforting circles across them, “i could never leave you.. i love you too much.” he stared right at you, eyes teary, but a smile formed on his face.

“you love me, huh?” 

“oh, shut up!” you pushed him softly, but he pulled you into his arms. “i love you too.”

“ezra.. i.. i don’t think you get.. what i was trying to tell you.” you spoke, squeezing your eyes shut. it was now or never. “what?” you heard him say, and your hands fell into your lap. “i mean.. i like you, ezra. i like like you.” 

“wait, what?” he seemed happy, as his tone changed from one of sadness to something brighter. “i like you, ezra. a lot.” you admitted to him, looking right into the deep blue eyes you found yourself loving too much for your own good. “i like you too, y/n.” he muttered back to you. you felt your smile grow, covering your whole face until your cheeks started to hurt. 

“y/n?”

“yeah?”

“can i kiss you?”

you inhaled sharply, your breath becoming stuck in your throat. wordlessly, you nodded. you had absolutely no idea how to kiss someone, but as soon as ezra pressed his lips to yours, that flew out the window. your hands cupped his cheeks, your fingers running over the scars on his cheek that you found yourself looking at too often. his hands were shaky as they landed on your waist, but you found yourself falling quickly into his touch even if he didn’t know what he was doing. you did what you felt was natural, one of your hands moving into his hair as softly as you could. his hair was silky, and as you ran your hand through it you felt him smile against your lips. your heart was pounding, you could begin to hear it in your ears, but you didn’t care. you were finally kissing him. finally kissing the boy you fell in love with. 

“hey guys, hera wanted-”

the door slid open, but you found yourself too entranced with his lips that you could barely hear who had been talking. ezra quickly pulled away from you, but you leaned after his lips, not yet wanting your kiss with him to send so soon. the voice was zeb, and as you turned, you saw him look between the two of you. 

“kids.” 

the door slid shut, and ezra looked at you, shrugging his shoulders. you could care less about what hera wanted. for a moment, you had him in your arms, and you wouldn’t take that for granted. 

and as his lips found yours again, you felt yourself fall even deeper in love with him.

[artsyxloner]

Not Just a Monster

Warning: violence, blood, talks about self harm

12: Little kind gestures Pt2

I felt my heart flutter right through my chest. I had just held his hand, not thinking it through. It was warm and soft, sure I've held other guys hands but there's was nothing like Hyun-Su's

I wonder what he was thinking? He probably thinks I'm wired, Turing my head to see if he was still there I breathed out in relief when he wasn't.

A smile must have crept onto my lips because I felt my cheeks heat up. I don't know why I was smiling or why my heart was beating a mile per minute?

It shouldn't be because I'm in on shape or form to be thinking about someone like that especially when we're both infected we have our problems to deal with.

Sitting down on the chair that was in front of the door I didn't know why I had to guard others let Hyun-Su or the others out if Eun-Hyuk needed them.

It was most likely Hyun-Su though, waiting around a couple of people came up to the cell holding a piece of paper in their hand it was Jay-Hwan.

Standing up I crossed my arms, " what are you here for?" I questioned, he Extended out his hand and I immediately snatched it from his hands.

Flipping it open I read it was a list of objects he wanted Hyun-Su to get. I rolled my eyes he had just got back not even a few minutes ago and now they're wanting him to go back?

Bullshit!

" really? He just back, now you're wanting him to go up there again?" I shoved the piece of paper back into his hands. The guy scoffed, " so, it's the only thing he's good for."

He shoved past me calling for Hyun-Su, if I could only punch the guy in his face multiple times to get some sense into him I would be content.

" I could do it."

I hurried and spoke before he got here. Jay-Hwan turned and looked at me Raising his brow. " you?" I nodded, " I made it back last time with the guy in the wheelchair and a couple of others."

" That was you?" I couldn't stop myself so I flicked his head, for his dumb question, he made an 'Ow' sound rubbing it. " who else Casper?" I proclaimed.

I a couple of people chuckled, Just give me the paper and I'll be off. He was about to give it to me when Hyun-Su's voice stopped us. " another request?"

" more like a demand," I uttered under my breath. But that was meant to be heard. Jae-Hwan gave me a sharp glare, there turned to Hyun-Su.

" just a couple of things, I need." He slid the paper through the small bars on the door. He grabbed it looking it over, " I already said I would do it!" I barked, he shrugged.

" let me get my things." Jae-hwan smirked, " trying to protect your boyfriend huh?" He whispered when Hyun-Su left. Was he trying to poi's me off? " he's not my boyfriend!" retorted back.

We began to bicker until Hyun-Su got back. " Make sure you get everything!" Jay-Hwan said in a threatened, manner. And his group of friends left.

How do people like that Survive In a world like this? I shook my head unlocking the door letting Hyun-Su out. Walking out he stopped gripping his spear, " I wouldn't worry about him, people like that don't Survive long anyway."

I sighed, shaking my head, " what about me?" I frowned looking up at him, thinking it over truly no one Survives in a world like this even the good. " well you know what I mean? At least you're not a jerk." I pointed out.

In the corner of my eye, I saw a small Tug on his lips. I didn't say anything because he knew he would deny it. " well you should get going don't want to keep them waiting."

Hyun-Su nodded. About to leave but I grabbed his jacket sleeve, " be careful okay, promise." I grabbed his hand linking our pinky's then pressing our thumbs together.

" there know you just promised me." I smiled, but he was staring at me again deciding to ignore the awkward situation I let go. " go," I pushy-him to get a move on. Shewing him away with my hands.

As he did he kept looking back in the got to the end of the hall Disappearing. After he was gone I leaned back on one of the door letting out a deep breath. What did I just do?

I keep thinking and say I shouldn't like him and I shouldn't get close but it's like I can't help myself and I ignore my warnings. Why was this so frustrating and Complicated.

Sitting down again, I closed the door locking it, sitting down again. I looked at my clothes noticing how bad condition they were in. All bloodied and ripped up I needed something new to wear.

Getting up, there's no since in guarding unless Hyun-Su was in there in case someone wanted to request something. And Suk-Hyun wouldn't come out he's been quiet for a while but I wasn't complaining.

Getting up I taking the keys I walked over to the office, and gave Eun-Hyuk the keys before walking out he began to talk. " make sure someone else is guarding we don't won't no brake outs." He said looking through some types books.

" of course," was the only thing I said then walked out, searching for someone to guard the door, I soon found the man I met upstairs. " Gil-Seob do you mind guarding right now."

He was up on a latter with I'm not Binoculars searching for something. He lowered them taking a quick nod. " sure kid, I probably need to rest my eyes anyway." He climbed downs.

I bowed saying thank you and we took are separate ways. Walking over to the day-care-Center I checked if anyone's was in the room. Finding no one, I closed the door going over to the couch I dragged out my duffel bag I stuffed under there.

Unzipping the bag I pulled out a shirt and a dark blue shirt with skate boarding skeletons on it. I then slid on my brown Demi jacket. 

Feeling better in new clothes I found in a basket of clothes, I zipped it back up and pushed back under the couch. I wonder if Hyun-Su was doing right now?

I hope he wasn't fighting a monster, biting the inside of my lip I prayed he was okay. Going out I saw the group was in the entrance backing away from something, getting a closer look I saw it was coming from another hallway that led to one of Quarantine room doors.

It slowly came into view, it was all hairy with long hair. It reminded me of a Sloth from how slow it moved towards us. Hearing gasps people Readied there weapons I heart sunk wondering if it was Hyun-Su but it couldn't be since there was no way he was back yet.

Then I realized who it was it was Suk-Hyun he had finally turned in someway I felt bad for him even though he was a complete ass no one really Deserves this.

The Mysterious looking guy came in front of him as if he was going to kill the monster but the store owner wife came into view. " that's my husband, stay back." She moved towards him with a bat in her hands.

I knew what she was about to do, the group kept telling her not to get close but she just Ignored them. " pull yourself together Suk-Hyun!"

She ordered them a hand shot out from his mop of hair. She the said it a second time a hit him upside the head with the metal bar screaming.

" you decided to come back. Any last words?" I couldn't watch, even though I didn't like the guy it was still heartbreaking. She then started to hit then guy in the head.

Hearing the kids cry out watching this scene unfold I grabbed them covering there eyes. As I shut mine, cringing at the cracking and mushing sounds.

I took the kids away because they didn't need to witness this. I didn't either knowing I will turn and they will do this to me I couldn't take it. The thought of them killing me made me want to cry.

Going near the Quarantine room I saw the door had been busted open. I stuck the kids in there because the day-care-Center was on the other side were it was happing.

Blood and hair was all over the place I wanted to puke. I sat the kids on Hyun-Su's mattress. " are they going to do that to Hyun-Su?" Yeong-Su blurted out, I could tell he was concerned.

Knowing I can't lie because they would, I nodded. Going over to the kids, I sat down with each of them on my side. " why? Hyun-Su's my friend." The little boy did a pouty face. I wanted to smile but I couldn't, " because They think all monsters are bad but let me tell you guys something?"

I brought the closer hugging the kids. " not all monsters do monstrous things. Sometimes they even defeat the bad guys that can be humans." I tried to explain not all of us where terrible.

The kids nodded trying to understand, where I was coming from. " Hyun-Su won't hurt us right?" Su-Yeong asked leanings in my side.

" No, I don't see that happening just remember what I just told you okay." I patted her back. " we are going to wait here until it's all over with okay?"

The kids then agreed, as we waited they soon left the room with Mrs. Cha that came to get them I stayed in here so after I started to hear footsteps coming this way.

I soon realized it was Hyun-Su he was back, I closed my eyes breathing out he was okay I began to get worried. He came into the room I then noticed some blood on his face. He seemed Surprised seeing me in here.

" I didn't want to watch." I brought my knees up to my chest, Hyun-Su just stared down thinking of something, was it because of what happened with Suk-Hyun?

Padding a seat on the softish mattress, I got his attention and waved for him to sit down. " come." He did as told and took a seat. " Are you okay?" I knew he wasn't if he saw what happened to Suk-Hyun.

" yeah, I'm fine what about you?" He turned his head staring at me. Was I okay? Probably not but I lied knowing that's the best answer to give right now.

That was everyone's answer because they don't what to say no I'm actually crumbling inside and I just want help.

So for know it Yeah or yes. I leaned my hand back staring at nothing until I got a glimpse of something on Hyun-Su's arm. I wanted to ask.

" what happened?" I pointed at the scar that was peaking out from his jacket sleeve. " I did it." He shortly replied, I Raised an eyebrow. " no I am why how did it to you?" I shot back knowing someone else was in on this.

I then grabbed his arm pulling up his sleeve seeing a long scar that looked like it had two line across it. My eyes winded a little. Why would he do this do himself who made him do it?

" does it hurt?" He had to think on it the mumbled no, shaking my head I took out the band-Aid he had going on the shelf behind him and took a couple. Unwrapping them I stuck them on here feeling his scar graze over my thumb.

" there, every time it hurts put a band-aid on it." Mentioned, pulling his sleeve back down. Then getting up going to leave but then stopped.

" be sure to get some rest you never know when there going to ask you to do something again." I informed, letting him know he needs his rest.

[naireides]

you drew stars around my scars

katara learns the story behind zuko's scar; coaxed into writing this by @hooksandheroics​ aka my zutara screaming partner

zutara week day 6: affirm rated G | wc: 2.2k read on ao3 here

affirm  /əˈfəːm/ offer (someone) emotional support or encouragement.

-

As with most things, it starts with Sokka.

“I got this one when I was a four and slipped on the ice, and I got this one when Katara was practicing with her water knives, and, oh! This one is from when we escaped from Ba Sing Se. It kinda looks like a koalaotter if you squint,” he says eagerly as he rolls up the hem of his pants to show off the slightly raised patch of skin on his shin.

“It does not look like a koalaotter,” Katara says with a roll of her eyes. “It’s just a scar .”

“That’s because you don’t have an artist’s eye,” he sniffs in disdain. “Aang, you see a koalaotter, right?”

He hesitates, looking between the siblings “Uh, well,” he fumbles, leaning to get a closer look of Sokka’s leg, “I guess if I squint --”

“Don’t mind them, Sokka, I think it looks like a koalaotter,” says Toph, where she leaned back against Appa’s side, flicking pebbles in the air.

He grins triumphantly. “See! I told you-- hey .” He glares at her as she starts to laugh.”I’ve got to stop falling for that.”

“You make it too easy,” she giggles before turning over onto her stomach. “I don’t have any cool scars.”

“How would you even know?”

“I just do, Twinkletoes,” she says, blowing a raspberry his way.

Aang looks sour for a second before he brightens and yanks his pants up over his knee. “One time in Omashu I was Bumi and I got this,” he says excitedly gesturing to the hypertrophic scar that graced his knee. “It looks like a map of the Fire Nation!”

Sokka leans in closer, trying to get a better look at it in the flickering light of the campfire. He strokes his chin and says, “Yeah, it actually kinda does.”

“Let me guess,” Katara says flatly, “You and Bumi had a slide accident, didn’t you?”

Aang’s responding sheepish laughter and the faint colour that rises to his cheeks tell her everything that she needs to know.

“What about you, Katara?” he asks, directing the attention to her instead of himself, “Do you have any cool scars?”

She shrugs. “No, not really.”

He pouts. “C’mon. Not even a little one?”

“Yeah Katara, not even a little one,” taunts Sokka, “You know, like when Gran-Gran taught you how to sew and you accidentally stitched your glove to your thigh.”

“Sokka!” she snaps, cheeks ablaze, while the others roar with laughter. “At least I know how to sew. You still ask Gran-Gran to darn your socks!”

It’s his turn to flush now, embarrassment creeping over him. “Zuko!” he calls out, eyes falling on the other boy who’s been surprisingly quiet this whole time. He’s sitting in the shadows, just out of their little fireside circle. “You’re up. Story time.”

His good eye widens as they all look towards him, waiting. “Uh,” he stutters for a moment before pulling the neckline of his shirt. “I have one on my shoulder that kind of looks like a fire lily?” He twists, giving them a glimpse of it for just a second before fixing his shirt to rights. “Azula pushed me into the turtle duck pond when I was ten.”

“Your sister is a psychopath,” Sokka says unimpressed.

“She’s not a psychopath,” he says, still awkward as he rubs the back of his neck, “Just… misunderstood.”

“If you say so.”

“I’m going to take a walk,” he says, abruptly standing up and stalking off into the night before anyone else can get a word in.

They all watch him leave but Katara’s eyes linger the longest, even as Toph changes the topic by saying, “What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever eaten? I’ll go first! It was sand!”

They continue on with their usual fireside banter until they start yawning more than talking and then, one by one, they tuck in for the night, curling up in their sleeping bags as the fire dwindles to just embers.

Katara waits until Sokka’s sleepy mumbling trail off into snores before she unfurls herself and heads down the rocky pathway to the shore that Zuko had taken earlier.

She finds him there, standing on the still warm sand and staring out at the ocean, nothing but the faint glow of the moon to illuminate his profile. The moon tugs at something in her veins, calling her towards the water, but she ignores it in favour of padding across to where he stood in complete silence.

He doesn’t say anything as she comes to stand next to him, shoulder to shoulder. The heat radiating off of him is a nice contrast to the cool night’s air that swirls around them, laden heavy with salt and sea.

They stand there together, watch the waves lap against the shore, just far enough inland that the water barely brushes against their toes.

“Everyone’s gone to bed,” she says after a couple moments have passed.

When he doesn’t say anything in return, she shifts closer, placing her hand on his shoulder. “Hey. You should get some rest too.”

“I’m fine.”

She sighs inwardly before moving to step in front of his gaze and his head jerks back. “Look, Sokka didn’t mean anything by asking about-- he just lacks tact.”

There’s a faint quirk of his lips at the corners. “I think at this point Momo has more tact than your brother.”

“And you’d be right,” she murmurs in agreement. It’s then she realises how close they’re standing, the way she can make out every line and edge of his face in the watery moonlight. She hasn’t stood this close to him since their brief time in the crystal catacombs together.

The memory of their time together sparks something within her and Katara can’t help but let her eyes drift to his scar, the reddened, raised edges that cover his face from eyebrow to cheekbone.

She expects him to turn his head as he does whenever he catches anyone looking at the scar, but to her surprise, all he does is swallow thickly.

“I should have let you use the magic water when I had the chance huh.”

“Spirit water,” she corrects him, automatic, “To be honest, it’s probably a good thing I didn’t. I ended up using it to save Aang after Azula shot him with lightning.” She fixes him with a look. “She really is a psychopath.”

Zuko shrugs half-heartedly. “She’s still my sister.”

Katara worries her lip, hesitating for a moment before she brings her hand to rest on his cheek, feeling the bumpy, irregular surface of his skin beneath it. He winces at the contact but he still makes no move to turn away from her.

“I don’t know-- you never told me how you got this,” she says softly, her thumb rubbing at the edge where smooth skin gives way to scar tissue.

He seems shocked at that. “You mean you don’t know?” At the shake of her head, his mouth presses into a thin line. “It’s not exactly a great bedtime story.”

“I didn’t expect it to be,” she says, and then adds, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“It’s fine.” He flashes her a wry grin but there’s no humour behind it, just a long lasting sadness. “It was a spectacle in the Fire Nation. The Fire Lord duelling the crown prince in an agni kai.”

Katara stumbles back as the weight of his words hit her like a freight train. The hand she had on his cheek drops, coming to cover her mouth which had fallen open in shock.

“An agni kai? Your father did this to you?” she asks, her voice just barely above a whisper as she tries to even begin to comprehend just what Zuko might have gone through. Suddenly, his actions in the early days start to make sense.

“My uncle invited me to a war meeting. It was my first time there and they were discussing an invasion plan for the Earth Kingdom. A general proposed sacrificing an entire legion of new recruits-- children, barely sixteen-- and everyone just went along with it. They didn’t see anything wrong with that,” he explains, weariness dripping from every word and settling deep in her bones. “I spoke up. Said it was wrong to lead them to their deaths like that. But by speaking against the general, I spoke against my father and he didn’t appreciate that.”

“And he challenged you to an agni kai,” she finishes, horrified.

Zuko clenches his jaw and nods once before ducking his head. “I didn’t want to fight him. I begged him for forgiveness but my father saw it as a sign of weakness. So he burnt me and then banished me from the kingdom. The only way for me to return home was if I redeemed myself, redeemed my honour , by capturing the avatar,” he says, eyes flicking up to look at her from beneath his lashes.

It’s quiet for a long time, his words hanging heavy in the air. Katara feels hot and cold at the same time, the sickening chill of everything that Zuko had to go through leaking down her spin to mix with the bright, all consuming rage in her stomach. She doesn’t think she’s felt this much anger since she came face to face with Yon Rha.

Katara doesn’t realise that she’s shaking until he puts his hands on her shoulders, steadying her and the turbulent water she accidentally agitated in all of her emotion. The hems of their clothes are wet.

“Hey,” he murmurs, soft, stepping closer, into her space, “It’s okay.”

“It’s okay ?” She chokes out a laugh that sounds like fractured glass. “It’s certainly not okay.”

“I’ve made my peace with it,” he says, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into her biceps, “I thought that when he gave me the scar he took away my honour and that I had to find the avatar to regain it. But I don’t believe that anymore. I’m the only one who can get it back and by helping Aang restore order in the world… well, I like to think it’s a step in the right direction.”

She wants to laugh at how easy he says it, at how he truly believes that there’s still more making up that he needs to do before he can consider himself worthy again.

It’s that expression on his face-- half hope, half determination-- that melts the fight right out of her.

“Zuko,” she starts tenderly. Her hand finds its way back up to his cheek, brushing along the sharp line of his cheekbone, brushing over his scar. “You are the most honourable person I know of.”

She’s close enough that she can see the way his eyes widen at her declaration and the way his white-gold skin colours with a dull flush. His cheek is warm under her palm.

“All of this-- I hate that it happened to you, but you’re a good man. An honourable man. And I’m so glad to have you with us,” she tells him.

Out of everything, this is what gets him to look away, the praise she showers upon him, and Katara can’t help but grin.

She leans forward, closing the narrow strip of space between them, and brushes her lips against his cheek, soft, quick, perhaps too quick for both of them though they would never say it.

His smile is fond when she pulls back, the blush still swirling in his cheeks matching the new one that rises to hers when she meets his eyes. There’s a new warmth blazing in them as he looks down at her, and Katara feels herself colour further.

“Thank you, Katara,” he tells her, affection clinging to the simple words. He squeezes her arms once more before letting his hands drop to his sides. It leaves her strangely cold and she watches as he flexes his fingers, not looking at her again.

Tentatively, she reaches over, taking hold of his hand. It’s much larger than hers, pale with long delicate fingers, and surprisingly calloused for someone who’s a bender, and royalty on top of that. She supposes that it comes from years of training with his dao swords.

His eyes are questioning when she looks back up at him, and she offers a small smile in return.

“Come on,” she says, tangling her fingers in his as she leads him away from the shoreline. “Let’s get some rest.”

The weight of unsaid things linger between them as they slowly pick their way back up to the campsite, a quiet, sweet thing that blooms in the still air of the night. Neither of them say a word as they climb into their sleeping bags, but they lie next to each other, eyes roving across faces and drinking in the tiniest of details that are visible in the light of the dying embers.

Zuko drifts to sleep first and she finds herself looking at his scar again as sleep starts to consume her too. A reminder of his painful past, but hopefully a guiding light to shape his future.

As Katara finally succumbs to sleep, her last thought is that she hopes she’s part of that future with him too.

[slashermom]

PLEASE I NEED A PART THREE TO BO’S SOULMATE AU!! I loved it so much 😭😭

Who am I to deny such lovely people?

Part 1 Part 2

Oh god, what were you doing?

You tried to figure that out as you sat hunched over at a shady bus stop waiting for the next bus to arrive. You couldn’t have been less prepared. You were able to get Lester give you a twenty before you headed into the grocery store -which you were able to slip out of before Lester noticed. But besides that, you really had no money, no identification, no cellphone, not even a jacket to shield you from the crisp air that blew in after the sunset. Where do you go from here? 

You thought about calling the cops.

Lead every police officer in Louisiana cocked and ready to tear that town to shreds and watch the three of them get the punishment Lord knows they probably deserve. But that thought was quickly shut down. As bitter as you were, you couldn’t do that to him or his brothers.

Instead, you settled on the idea of hopping on the bus and seeing how far it would take you. You knew you might be able to get on a few different buses with the twenty you had crumpled up in your hand. You racked your brain on any friends you had that you could stay with, just until you could get on your feet again or until you got a hold of someone in your family. You’d figure it out, you always did.

It wasn’t until it was already too late that you noticed an approaching vehicle and it wasn’t the bus you were waiting for. No, you knew the rumble of that truck all too well. Before the car could come to a complete stop you got up and began speed walking in the opposite directly. Your heart practically fell into your stomach when you heard the car door open and the shut followed by the sound of footsteps a few paces behind yours.

“Y/N. Stop.”

Hearing his voice call out to you was all you needed to stop dead in your tracks. Keep walking you idiot. You’ve already made up your mind, don’t stop now. But of course - like most things with Bo - your better judgment went out the window. In fact, instead of continuing on your journey away from the man the universe deemed your soulmate, you actually decided to turn around and face him.

“Bo, listen, I’ve already made up my mind and…” Your words seemed to die off before you could complete your sentence. Even in the dull light provided by a few street lamps you could see the anger rolling off him in waves. What did he have to be angry about? That you cut into his drinking and bitching and moaning time? 

“Get in the truck.” This clearly wasn’t up for negotiation.

“How did you-“

“‘Cause I know you. Now, don’t make me say it again.”

You knew you could try to run, scream and hope some Good Samaritan would come and save you; but you had a funny feeling that wouldn’t end up well for anyone. You weighed your options for a moment longer before you decided you didn’t want to push him. You didn’t say another word before you brushed past him and towards that piece of shit truck he loved. 

Bo wasn’t far behind and he followed your lead in not speaking. As he started up the vehicle, you got a glimpse of bright orange lights in rearview. The bus had arrived. Of course it did. Frustration bubbled up in your chest at being so close but not close enough. But you kept any sign of it to yourself and settled on focusing on the dark road in front of you.

The car was suffocating. Both of you clearly wanted to say something but it seemed you were waiting for the other to speak first. You began to sneak peeks at him. He had his elbow propped up on the door as the back of his thumb traced his bottom lip, clearly his head somewhere else. His eyelids still heavy and dark from the alcohol. He’s probably driven worse. You honestly would have rathered him rattling of whatever came to his mind; Bo being quiet and angry would always be worse than him being loud and pissed. Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“I… I wasn’t gonna tell anyone… If that’s what you were worried about. I was just going to get on that bus and try to get back to my home.” You explained. You hoped you sounded reasonable. That maybe he would calm down a little if you explained that you weren’t interested in seeing him go to jail. But even you knew that a good explanation wasn’t always enough for Bo.

“You wanna know what I was worried about?” He gave you a sharp side-eye before deciding he wasn’t going to wait for you to answer and hit the breaks and pulled to the side of the dirt road.

“You.” He practically seethed. “I was worried about you.” He raised his finger to point at you to emphasize his point before he shook his head and looked away. Now, that made you scoff. 

“I don’t get it. I don’t get you, Bo. First, you tell me that our relationship doesn’t mean anything and the next you chase me down just to bring me back.” You exasperated. “And for what? Just so we can start this cycle all over again? Why don’t you just let me go?”

“I can’t do that.” It came out just above a whisper. It was strange and uncharacteristic for the brunette to not be anything but loud, proud, and unapologetic. 

“Can’t or won’t?” You felt yourself grow more frustrated with his vagueness and moved your body so you were completely facing him to the best of your ability within the cab of the truck.

“Won’t.”

“Why not?”

“You don’t think I wish I could?!” His sudden outburst jumped you, which he didn’t miss. It reminded you of the first few months you were with him. How you used to flinch and jump and every one of his movements. You saw the disappointment flicker in his eyes just like it had all those months ago. 

 “Trust me, sweetheart, I was perfectly fine before I met you. I didn’t need nobody but myself but now…”

Bo wouldn’t meet your gaze, instead, he settled on staring out the windshield and sighed. He was shutting you off again - just like he always does. Sometimes you would get to see glimpses of the man underneath that rough exterior but he always would reign that side of him back under lock and key before you could get a good look.

“But what, Bo? You can’t just start saying something like that and not finish it.” You wanted to grab his face and make him look you in eyes. For once, you just wanted him to be completely honest with you - even if it hurt.

“I care about you.”

Well, that wasn’t what you were expecting.

“I know that’s probably not exactly you’re lookin’ to hear and I know it’s no ‘I love you’.” He rubbed a hand over his mouth - which you learned he often did when he was thinking or was trying to find the right words.

“Y/N, I’m not sure I really know how to love someone. Love them right, I mean. Hell, I’m not even sure I know what that word even means. But you’re the closest thing I have felt to it.” Your eyes stung with the threat of tears but you willed them back. God damn him. He shows the tiniest bit care and you’re about to be a blubbering mess. 

“That’s why I acted the way I did tonight. Because I’m scared shitless of what I feel when I look at you. I’ve been tryin’ to convince myself that if I push you hard enough you’ll leave… and you did.” Guilt plagued his voice and features and it pulled right on your heartstrings. Still, you tried to stay as stoic as possible. You knew it was futile. He could read you like a book - always could.

“But when I saw the look on your face after what I said to you and then the way I felt after I got that call from fuckin’ Lester… I realized somethin’.” For the first time since you had met each other, Bo actually seemed to take his time with his words. Of course he picks the one time when you want him to get the point the most. 

“That even though I’m scared of whatever this is, I’m even more terrified of the thought of you not being around.” He slowly picked up your hand with both of his and caressed the scarring that covered your wrist like a bracelet. 

“This does mean somethin’. I may not understand how this whole soulmate thing works but I do know how I feel about you. And… I’m sorry for what I said… Y’know, earlier.”

Were you hearing him right? Did Bo Sinclair just apologize and admit that he cares about you? 

You knew it took a lot for Bo to admit something was bothering him, let alone scaring him. He even apologized. He laid everything out in the open for you and you could see from the look in his eyes he was ready for the worst. You wanted to tell him he was full of shit, that this was another one of his manipulative tactics. That you were just a possession he wasn’t ready to give up yet. To be strong and not let him sucker you in.

 But whether it be because your resolve was weak or because of the strange, invisible, ties you have together - you couldn’t.

“I believe you.” You moved your other hand to grasp his. Squeezing it tightly, you felt tears fall down your face that you had tried so hard to keep at bay. He pushed out a breath of relief and blinked rapidly. Bo’s lips curved up and he gave you a genuine smile, one that you couldn’t help but return.

“But we’re gonna be laying some rules down.” You spoke up and he chuckled.

“Like what?”

“Like no more of this keeping things to yourself stuff. Something’s bothering you, you tell me. You’re not alone anymore so don’t act like it, you hear me?” You let go of his hand and wiped the tears from your cheeks as you tried to set and authoritative tone.

“Loud and clear, boss.” He took the opportunity of you being too busy with wiping your eyes and nose to grab the back of your head and press a kiss to your forehead. You felt yourself lean forward, trying to keep as close to him as long as possible.

“Now, let’s go home before I change my mind.” You joked while trying to calm yourself down.

“Like I would let you go.” He rolled his eyes and brought his hands back to the wheel. You only shook your head at him. You knew the both of you still had a lot to work on but tonight was a start. You’d two would figure it out, you always did.