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aetherarf · 3 years

Note

Can I request Diluc x reader where Diluc is extremely sad and crying really hard for some reason but it becomes super fluffy with the reader running a bath for him, comforting him, cuddling him and brushing his hair? Maybe he gets an upset stomach from crying and the reader rubs his stomach? Poor Diluc is hurt a lot I want him to have some TLC ;^;

Basically this entire story is just Diluc given a chance to be babied and to be weak, and thats okay.

Also I got this request just before I posted something SUPER angsty stuff so. yeah. Let's give this boy some TLC because my goodness he NEEDS it

[[ WARNING: MILD SELF HARM ]]

[[ Summary: Woken up by the distant sound of crying... even Diluc needs to be weak, sometimes. You'll make sure that he feels safe, and loved, when he is weak.

Word Count: 1'742 ]]

Diluc is gone many nights--Acting as an anonymous, vigilant protector of Mondstadt, or just busy with paperwork or duties he was behind on relating to the Winery and the Wine Guild ( funny, how the main provider of Mondstadt's wine still had to adhere to such a foolish organization ), but it only caught your attention since you had gone to bed beside him... Looking over at the window, it was still quite dark, so it had probably been a few hours, but not enough to bring dawn.

Silently, you stare at the ceiling, listening for him. At first, you hear nothing, but the sound of rain pitter-pattering against the roof... You look over at the door, seeing how it's cracked open, looking at it idly...

Well, he doesn't take long in the restroom, so you figure he's doing something. You don't really want to sleep without him. Getting up from the bed, you sleepily shuffled your way out of the room--it was dark, but you knew your way through well enough.

You woke up completely as soon as you heard him--Sometimes, he'd mutter to himself, trying to remember what to do, or just going through a process...

But this was not that--this was something you seldom heard before: He was crying, muffled like he had a cloth between his teeth or his face pressed to a pillow, but that could not hide his wails of distress.

You fumbled through the darkness as fast as you could, not thinking to light up your way, instead you just wanted to find him, if he was in pain, all else could wait.

Eventually, you found him sitting alone--on the floor, no less, curled up around a pillow as he rocked back and forth, his face buried in said pillow as he sobbed into it.

You hesitated... but you stepped--somewhat like a stomp, just to get his attention... and it didn't work. You tried one last time, and stepped harder--and that time, it was enough to draw his attention...

The way he jerked his head up, flinching at the sound, such fear in his eyes--to think that he looked at you in fear was a kind of pain you couldn't understand.

"Diluc," you said, softly, "It's just me. I promise."

However, his breathing was still ragged, panicked. Without stepping hard, you walked closer, and in the room, lit only by a dim moonlight, you sat down beside him on the floor, gently cupping his jaw with one hand,

"Diluc," you said, again, "What's wrong?"

He didn't answer, just hiding again into the pillow, holding it close to him so you didn't have to see his face--one that you didn't need to see to know his cheeks were slightly puffy, his eyes read and covered in tears, paled from pure stress and exhaustion.

"Please," you begged, softly, "Talk to me."

He shook his head into the pillow, and you shifted around, hugging him partially from the back, and from the side, resting your head on his shoulder as he sobbed, just trying to comfort him.

After a bit, it felt like hours, but was likely only a few more long, painful minutes, he wasn't crying... but it was only from exhaustion, having wailed out his lungs already. The faint sound of gagging, and finally... he spoke.

"I feel... so sick..." He said, weakly. You knew, when you cried like that, you wanted to vomit, so...

With one hand, you shifted it to his stomach, rubbing it gently, not wanting to talk and ruin the silence, or to dare make him think you were trying to get over his fit. After a bit, he sighed, softly, and he leaned back into you, still gasping for air, sobbing weakly even if he could not cry any longer. His head resting back on your shoulder, you pressed a kiss to his temple,

"Diluc," you finally said, "Are you okay?"

He did not reply, but his sobs... his broken, hoarse voice lessened, only to exhausting rasping.

Then, slowly, he shook his head, a few more tears finding their way to trickle down his cheeks with a sob. His hair stuck to his face--how long, and how intensely had he been crying, from tears and sweat... how sore he must be. True crying, like this, where your soul was weeping with your body...

You pressed another kiss onto his cheek, desperate to try and offer any small comfort you could.

"Diluc," you said, softly, "Can you talk?"

Weakly, he nodded, "Don't... want."

He didn't want to talk. "That's okay," you reassured, "... You must feel awful... do you want me to run a bath for you? I can brush your hair how you like." You offered, and with a shudder and a shaky exhale... He nodded.

But he didn't move.

A few minutes, you thought, still rubbing his stomach gently, before you tapped it lightly, once, twice, "You need to get up to get to the bath, love."

He groaned, less pained, more just tired. You didn't know if that was heartwrenching or reassuring, but as he stood, he stumbled, barely catching himself, and you grabbed him, pulling him towards you. Silently, he held onto you, clinging with a degree of desperation.

It was a slow walk, but you got there eventually, you ensuring it was bright enough that you could, finally, assess his situation. You got him to sit down, and he flopped over like a doll that was tossed to the wall, left to be forgotten to time, but you held out your hand, lifting his head up by his chin... and he rested his head onto your hand, his cheek upon your palm, a heavy weight... oh, how tired he must be, but you wanted to get a good look at him.

He was covered in scratch marks made by blunt nails--The skin was red, inflamed and irritated, but there was no blood. As far as you could tell, it wasn't severe, but there was a notable amount on his chest, his stomach, and his forearms.

He looked sickly, too, perhaps that was just exhaustion.

"Why did you..." You rested your hand on his inflamed skin, and he made a low, pained whine, prompting you to flinch, to stop touching him.

"... I don't know," he admitted, "Didn't feel like it was... me."

How slowly he spoke, his words feeling forced and rough.

You pressed a kiss to his forehead. You could ask later.

Instead, you decided to get the water running, grabbing some epsom salts, maybe a few drops of essential oils in the warm, but not hot, water.

The entire time, you could tell he was watching you, when you looked back at him, he looked tired as he sat, his back to the wall, but his gaze didn't leave you for a moment. You decided not to question it, just looking back at him to check on him.

Eventually it was full, and you moved your hand through the water--warm. Not too warm, just how Diluc liked it. You walked over, helping him to his feet, helping him shimmy out of his trousers and step into the bath, sitting down with his head down as he curled up into a ball. Running your fingers through his hair, you could tell it was snarled... such a fluffy mess. Oh well, nothing you couldn't get out with a brush and some patience.

Slowly, you began working at the bottom of his hair, little by little, as he sat there silently. You wondered, idly, if you should talk... Not so much for him to reply, but just to give him something to listen to.

Opting to talk about your day, about something lighthearted about a cute kitty that fell asleep on your foot, only for that owner of the Cat's Tail, Margaret? Whomever it was, to scoop up... And you just brushed slowly, when the brush could go through the area you brushed smoothly, you only went a tiny bit higher, never wanting to tug on his hair to cause anymore pain than he likely was already in.

After awhile, you were able to get from root to tip, running your fingers through it, and he sighed, shuddering a little... you ran your nails along his back, lightly scratching it how you knew he liked.

"Do you want to talk about it?" You finally asked, after you had finished talking, running out of things to say.

Diluc, slowly, shook his head.

"How about we wash your hair then go to bed... does that sound good?" You asked, still lightly scratching his back...

And this time, he nodded.

You did it mostly for him, getting the soap, tilting his head back so his hair could be submerged, scratching his scalp to just try and clean it thoroughly, and you helped him out, wrapping a towel around his waist and having him sit, rubbing his hair furiously with another towel so it didn't end up soaking the bed...

Ah. It was still damper than you'd like, but that was fine. With the way he always tried to rest his head on your hand when it was near, you could tell he was ready to knock out... It was so cute, like a puppy, resting its head and just wanting affection.

With one hand, you held his chin, and the other lovingly petted the top of his head, only for him to exhale... a relaxed sigh.

"Come on," You moved your hand slowly so he didn't collapse right then and there, grabbing his hands and tugging a little, "Bed."

A soft noise, a soft whine, and he stood up, once again, you half dragged, half walked him to the bedroom, until he flopped onto the bed, on his back, as he stared up at the ceiling...

You lied down next to him, of course, not before admiring how relaxed he seemed, but as soon as you were on your back, he practically crawled right on top of you, burying his face in your shoulder. He was heavy--but it wasn't an unwelcome feeling. You just fought with the blankets to cover him with them, then wrapped your arms around him.

"Do you want to talk about this tomorrow?" You asked, barely a whisper.

"Don't... know."

"Well... you can decide tomorrow. Just go to sleep for me, my good boy."

He was out, becoming an even heavier weight upon you, before you could even finish saying boy.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #diluc x reader #diluc #genshin diluc x reader #fluff #fluffy bark #anonymous #request #bark writes

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forever-rogue · 3 years

Text

Honeyed Whiskey

A/N: This was not called for at all, but I was so inspired by THIS dress from yesterday. It’s just a little soft, gentle fluff. Enjoy! xx

Pairing: Jack Daniels x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: references to sex, but nothing graphic

Pedro Character Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

By the time he's lulled from sleep, far later than he normally would have preferred, the first thing he notices is the golden sunlight streaming in through sheer curtains and open windows. Instantaneously, a smile is tugging on his features and he shifts onto his back, stretching limbs made stiff by sleep. He's content and comfortable, already enjoying his days off, knowing they'd be spent with you.

As soon as the thought of you crosses his mind, honeyed brown eyes slowly open again and he's blinking away the bleariness while reaching over to your side of the bed. But you're gone already, he notes with a light huff, finding nothing but cool emptiness where you normally laid.

Before he can get too lost in his own thoughts, he hears you. Its faint - soft and barely audible over the steady stream of the shower, but it's there. Crystal clear and beautiful, at least to his ears, he hears you singing softly under your breath along to whatever you had playing on the speakers. Rubbing away the remaining sleep from his eyes, he pulls back the soft, warm blankets and slides out from underneath.

He's still naked from the evening before, but he doesn't even bother to dress or reach for even a stitch of clothing. He already knows you'll just strip off in seconds anyway. A beaming grin crosses his features at that; you certainly knew what you wanted and when you wanted it.

Almost as if you could sense him, you stopped singing for a moment and he hears the tell-tale rustle of the shower curtain, "Jack? Honey, is that you?"

"Hi Sugar," he poked his head and found you staring back with excited eyes and a head full of shampoo lather, "you're up early...need a hand?"

"Its the Farmers Market today," you reminded him with a crook of your finger as he stepped into the warm bathroom, "I don't want to miss it, besides you're taking me to brunch and everything!"

"And just who decided this?" his tone was teasing as he stepped into the shower and pulled the curtain closed. You grinned up at him, pressing a kiss to his plush lips and batting your lashes innocently. He huffed in jest before reaching up and tenderly cupping your face, "I suppose I did, huh?"

"I'm sure that's what you were saying last night," you couldn't help but beam at him, "when I was on top - somewhere in between telling me how good I was and how much you love me."

"Well now, I definitely can't say no to you, Sugar," his hands slowly went from the side of your face and into your scalp as delicately massaged it to help wash the shampoo out.

"Jack, you don't have to wash my hair," you insisted but you definitely wouldn't have minded if he did. Showering with Jack was always an experience; something so intimate and sacred, especially when you took the time to wash and explore each other's bodies. You took the opportunity to shower together whenever you could, especially on lazy weekend days.

"I know I don't have to, baby," he insisted softly as he started to tender wash the lather, "but I want to. Let me take care of you, Sugar. You always take such good care of me, its my turn to love you."

"Well, who am I to turn down an offer like that?" a contented sigh left your lips as you keened into his gentle touch, "I am no fool. I love you, Jack."

"And I love you, honey."

»»————-　♡　————-««

You spent a long time in the shower, and by the time the two of you got you were both pruned. Jack's towel was slung low on his hips as he went to his side of the closet to grab some clothes for the day.

A sly little smile found its way onto your face as you dashed down the stairs and to the laundry room. You'd gone shopping yesterday and found something you'd planned on wearing today. As soon as you had seen it, you knew you had to have it, and you were positive that Jack would love it too.

"What happened?" Jack called down the stairs as you quickly slipped on your undergarments and the item of clothing.

"Nothing!" you promised as you bounded back up stairs to surprise him. Jack was standing in front of the full length mirror, buttoning up his shirt. The simple sight was still enough to take your breath away as you watched him for a few moments. His dark mop of hair was still damp and unruly, and you couldn't wait to run your hands through it.

You leaned against the door frame and cleared your throat in order to garner his attention. Jack slowly turned around, and when he was fully facing you, his jaw almost dropped. He slowly walked over to you, that look of adoration and devotion in his eyes that you were so fond of.

"You look beautiful, Sugar," he drawled as you slowly twirled to give him a look good at the beautiful yellow sundress you were wearing. It was breathtaking, and you had known from the moment you spied it that it was the one. Stopping just at your knees it was a beautiful, golden yellow with flowers all over it, with simple thin straps. The bodice hugged you just right and the little flare was perfect. You had a feeling Jack would like it too, "what a gorgeous dress on the most gorgeous woman in the world."

"Now you're just flattering me," you laughed lightly and put a hand on his broad, pushing him back ever so lightly, "do you like though? Really? I-I saw it and fell in love and couldn't help myself."

"Its not flattery if it's true," he insisted as he grabbed your hand and pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles, "I love it - not nearly as much as you, of course, but it's beautiful. And you make it even more so."

"You really do know just what to say, don't you, my love?" you couldn't help but steal a quick kiss as you flounced past him to finish getting ready, "still up for brunch?"

"And then the farmer's market," he reminded you with a soft smile, "I couldn't think of a better way to spend my day."

»»————-　♡　————-««

Brunch was a slow, fun affair as the two of you ate and drank your way through probably too much food. You'd insisted that Jack could pick the place since you were technically forcing him to brunch. He'd agreed, but that quickly turned into him driving to your favorite spot regardless. A silly old fool you had lovingly deemed him.

By the time you'd reached the farmer's market, it was warm and everything was bathed in brilliant sunlight. Jack had quickly reached for your hand and laced your fingers together, as you walked around and looked at all the various little stalls. It was busy and bustling, and everyone seemed to be in a good mood today; funny what the first nice day in the spring could do.

Jack was the type of man that loved to show you off, but there was also a part of him that was fiercely protective, never possessive, over you. It comes from years as an agent; a tried and practiced thing.

Whenever someone would stop the two of you, he'd always make sure you were front and center, getting all the attention you deserved. Today, in your new yellow sundress, that was no exception. There was something about today, how radiant and happy you looked, how kind and gentle you were, that set something off in him. Suddenly, as he watched you pick out some fresh oranges and apples from one of the stalls, he knew he had the answer to the question that had been on his mind.

“Honey?” you turned back to him, finding him watching you with a dopey little grin on his face. You held out your hand to him, and Jack wasted no time in coming over and taking, effortlessly entwining your fingers, “what’s wrong, Jack?”

“Nothing’s wrong at all, Sugar,” he pressed a kiss to the side of your head before taking the large tote filled with fresh fruits from you, ever the gentleman. You used to try and fight him on little things like that, insisting that you were more than capable of doing things on your own, but it was always useless. Eventually you learned not to argue with your cowboy.

“You’re just awfully quiet today is all,” you squeezed his hand in a sign of reassurance to let him know that everything was okay, “you can tell me anything, right?”

“Of course,” he stopped suddenly so he was facing you, a half smile on his handsome features. After studying your features in his aviators for a moment, you gently pushed them to the top of his head before leaving in to give him a gentle, saccharine kiss. When you pulled back, you found a light tinge of pink creeping into his cheeks, “whatever was that for?”

‘Just because,” you shrugged lightly before taking his hand again and tugging on it for him to follow, “I love you, Jack.”

“I love you too,” he shook his head at your playfulness but both knew the words were true. You’d both been jaded in different ways throughout your lives, but this was the one thing you were sure about. You really did love him more than anything - and he you.

»»————-　♡　————-««

You clutched onto your drink, or rather what was left of the smooth, honeyed whiskey, before turning to Jack and setting the glass down. You found Jack staring into the roaring fire across from you, his expression suggesting that a lot was going through his mind.

You were across the small fire pit from him, the one he had lovingly built in the background for cool nights just like this and let out a small sigh. His drink wasn’t even touched and he’d hardly said more than a word or two the whole evening, leaving you to do most of the talking yourself.

“Alright, Jack, this is enough,” you stood up and flounced over to him, and sat down next to him, “what’s going on, Jack? Ever since this afternoon at the market, you’ve gone practically silent. It’s not like you, honey. I-is it something I did? Are you upset with me?”

“No, no, no it’s nothing like that at all, sugar,” he promised as he turned to you, a worried expression on his own face, “I am far from upset, or anything else for that matter. I’ve just had a lot on my mind today - lately.”

“What’s going on? I can help…” you watched with worried eyes as he stood up and moved in front of you, a thoughtful expression on his face as his hands dove into his pockets, “Jack?”

“We’ve been together for a long time now,” he started as you swallowed the lump in your throat, “honestly, it seems like there wasn’t any time in which I didn’t know you. It feels like we’ve always been together…”

“Oh my God,” you looked at him with pouted lips and a worried expression in your eyes, “you’re breaking up with me, aren’t you?”

“What on earth...how...no, Sugar, I am absolutely not breaking up with you or anything of the sort,” he quickly insisted and you relaxed at his reassurance. Then why was he so...off today?

“Then what’s…”

“I love you more than anything,” he reminded you, and your heart fluttered in your chest as you nodded slowly, “and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and only you. I don’t know a lot, but that is one thing I do know.”

“I want that too,” the corners of your mouth turned up into that brilliant smile that still made Jack weak in the knees. Radiant and golden as ever as nervous butterflies fluttered about his stomach; he was sure you would be able to hear the nervous beating of his heart, “you’re my one, Jack.”

“And you are mine, Sugar,” he slowly kneeled, almost eye level with you as he got down on one knee and reached back into his pocket. Suddenly you knew - all the quiet moments, the little secret he seemed to be hiding, all the extra declarations of love, it all made sense now. Your lip trembled with effort as you tried not to cry then and there. He reached for your left hand and gently held it in his, “I have never been more sure of anyone or anything, but I want to spend the rest of my life with you, I want to build and grow our family together, all of it - I want it with you.”

“Oh honey…” you looked into those soft brown eyes and found that they were glossy with tears as well, “I...love you so much. I want everything with you too. Only you.”

“Well then I just have one very important question to ask you,” he slipped his free hand into his pocket and pulled out a black velvet box. He made quick work of displaying the beautiful ring inside. You looked between the ring and him, hardly able to believe this was happening, “Sugar, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife and allowing me to be your husband?”

“Yes - yes,” you nodded as he slipped the ring onto your finger. He studied your face for a moment before delicately wiping away your tears, after which you put your hands on the sides of his face and pulled him in for a gentle kiss, “of course I’ll marry you, Jack. Yes, yes, yes, a million times yes.”

“And just like that, you continue to make me the happiest man in the world,” he scooped you up in his arms and spun you around as he held onto you tightly, “I love you so much, Sugar.”

“I love you too, Jack,” you whispered against his lips, “tell me what finally made you ask? Was it the dress? I always knew yellow was your favorite!”

“Of course not, darlin’,” he laughed lightly, “it was all you - the dress was just an added bonus. How lucky I must be to have the privilege of getting to gaze upon such beauty everyday.”

“And what about me?” you asked in response, “I must be pretty lucky as well. I get you all to myself, the best man, and soon I get to call you my husband.”

“I suppose that makes us a pair of lucky fools,” he mused as you beamed at him, “what do you say we do inside and grab some champagne to celebrate? Just the two of us for now, before we tell the world.”

“I love the sound of that,” you agreed, “this is perfect.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#jack daniels x reader #jack daniels #agent whiskey #agent Whiskey x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #fem!reader

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sonianvmd · 3 years

Text

washing mondo owada’s hair 😃

warnings: swearing, suggestivity if you squint really really hard

a/n: sorry i died school was piling up

i’ve been thinking of this exact scenario since like february 🧍🏾

no spoilers below the cut!!

★ 彡 ★ ミ ★ 彡 ★ ミ ★

“hey, mondo?”

“oi.”

“can i wash ur hair 😃”

he’s not necessarily against the idea but he’s hesitant

his pompadour is his trademark and the only other style you’ve seen him in is a manbun for when he sleeps or it’s early in the morning before he gets ready

so basically, you’ve never seen him with his hair down in it’s natural form

“uhhh, i dunno, doll.”

he caves after like two minutes

what? he luvs u

anyways

you drag him over into the bathroom and have him get his hair all wet n stuff

and you bring out the shampoo

he completely relaxes under your touch

you can hear him sigh contently and smile as you continue to lather all of his hair

it’s all so nice and domestic to him and he can’t believe he didn’t let you do this sooner

when you massage his scalp he physically relaxes every muscle in his body and pushes his head closer to you

you are

very good at this

you make sure the shampoo is evenly all throughout his hair before rinsing it off and grabbing the conditioner a few feet away

once again, squeezing the bottle into your hand and rubbing them together before placing your hands back on his head

you start by coating the top of his head before trying to rake it through the rest

you can’t quite reach around so you move to stand behind him in the bath and he leans back into you

he gets ur shirt a lil wet but it’s alright

once you finish raking it through his hair, you let it sit for about two minutes before rinsing and wringing his hair out

(and u add a lil conditioner at the end as a leave in since his hair is curly)

you get him a towel and return to the bathroom where he’s still sitting on the edge of the bathtub, playing with a loose strand of his own hair

before handing him the towel, you kneel down and cup his face

“you’re so pretty.”

he just looks at you lovingly before going “tch.” and turning his head away

ok damn bitch be like that then 😕😕

———

A BONUS FOR ALL MY NEGROS OUT THERE ‼️‼️

wash day together!! :)

you had been encouraging mondo for a little while to wash your hair together

you really wanted to rake your fingers through his hair while it’s wet and down and you had nothing against letting him help you with your routine either

when he’s finally convinced, you pull him to the bathroom and start running the water, having him put his head under it

he hesitantly does and you get to work, making sure all of his hair gets wet

you tell him he can stand and give him a moment to stretch his back before asking him if he has any preferred products or anything like that

let you find out he’s been using some 2-in-1 shit

here you come pulling out a whole damn beauty shop from the cabinet

you choose some of your stuff that seem like they’d be compatible with his hair

(and that you also don’t really use because as much as you may love him, products are expensive and we ain’t wasting shit here)

but he sits on the edge of the bathtub and just watches you as you deck up the products you’ll use on him

just admiring you

but he snaps out of it when you turn to him with the bottle in hand

you squeeze some shampoo onto your hand and tell him to rest his head back, putting your knee between his legs and leaning forward to apply it to his hair

ur chest was like

right in his face

damn ma

anyways

you lather his hair and massage it into his scalp

he almost falls asleep on the spot

ur head scratches are unmatched

“mondo.”

“mooooondo.”

“hm?”

“you can rinse it out now.”

HELP HE’S SO EMBARRASSED LMFAOO

he just kinda

nods abruptly and puts his head under the running water

just muttering to himself as he’s turned away from you 😭

he sits under the water for much longer than he needs to before sitting up again

and you put the shampoo back under the cabinet, grabbing your conditioner

you need to get access to his entire head of hair so you move to like straddle sit in his lap and he just holds onto your thighs

he keeps averting eye contact

i think u might make him a lil nervous

you coat the conditioner on the surface of his hair before raking your fingers through and sighing contently with a lil giggle

this was nice

once all his hair was finger detangled, you reached back for your comb/brush

(personally i use a brush bc its easier but i know a lot of black ppl prefer combs)

you began to detangle his hair with the tool, your fingers following behind it

he winced every now and then but you quietly apologized and kissed his temple/forehead everytime

after the first few times, he started wincing on purpose lol

anyways

you started to get off him bc you were gonna let the conditioner sit for a few moments but he pulled you back down

he just kinda wraps his arms around your waist and hopes you get the message

n so you rest ur head on his shoulder and just quietly talk to each other

he thanks you for making him do this but like begrudgingly lol

you enjoy being in each other’s presence before you finally take a deep breath and get off him

you help him rinse it out and keep abruptly moving his head to stay under the water and you brush through it

you guys are laughing like some mfs LMFAOO

it’s so wholesome

but you finish combing through his hair and get two cotton t-shirts

bc you wanted to do a deep condition treatment with him as well

so you wet your own hair and put the product in, helping him as well

you manage to convince him to do a face mask with you too

you guys take those corny ass white peepo mirror pics together but u guys are both hot so i mean

you lounge around for about half an hour before washing your hair out

(and rinsing the mask off too)

and you wrap the t-shirt around your own head and mondo just watches you do it like “. w hat”

you have to help him put it on but it’s cute

ok this is getting unnecessarily long lemme finish this up

you let ur hair dry for a while before taking the tees off and putting in your actual final finishing products

he kinda smells like u now and he’s lowkey here for it lol

n you play with his hair for the literal rest of the day before falling asleep together and appreciating the domesticity <3

(bonus bonus bc i thought of this and didn’t wanna scrap it)

if you wanted to braid it then he’d be like “yeah sure ok” but immediately regret it LMFAOO

he’s not even tenderheaded but dAMN MA YOU GOT THE GRIP OF A POLAR BEAR 😕

he winces and flinches a lot

“quit movin yo damn head.”

yeah LMFAOAOAO

WAIT SOMEONE MAKE AN EDIT OF MONDO WITH A DURAG

PLEAES

#danganronpa x reader #trigger happy havoc x reader #mondo owada x reader #mondo x reader #mondo owada #x reader #x black reader #danganronpa #trigger happy havoc #dr1 x reader #dr1 #mondo owada x black reader #mondo x black reader #danganronpa x black reader #danganronpa x poc!reader #poc!reader #x poc!reader

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poodlejoonas · 3 years

Text

Olli - Honey Tea

For @bcfanweek Day 5: Olli Matela

Words: 1,350

Description: You come down with a summer cold and Olli comes to your rescue.

Notes: Olli Matela/Reader (gender unspecified)

Whatever that feeling was, it was uncomfortable as hell. You were bracing yourself for a long day at home because right now, you could barely be bothered to get out of bed. You felt feverish and achy, and the back of your throat felt like sandpaper. You felt this sensation creeping up on you over the last few days, but you brushed it off as nothing more than your body responding to stress.

Now you were paying for it in full force. It didn’t feel like COVID, and you were vaccinated recently, but it was unpleasant. You needed to do so many things that could make you feel better - make some tea, grab some tissues, take some medicine. But nothing you could do would give you the energy to get up long enough to do any of that.

Half asleep and achy, you rolled over to your phone and scrolled through your contacts until you found “Olli 💌”. If anyone could help put you back together, it was your boyfriend Olli Matela. You’ve been together for almost a year now but you have yet to make the jump towards moving in with him. He’s been so busy lately that the thought of a stressful life transition was too much to deal with. But you understood loud and clear - his career was on its way up, and you couldn’t have been prouder of him.

But now, all you could hope for was that he’d pick up your call. The phone rang for a few seconds until his raspy voice broke through on the other end. “Kulta?” he started, sounding half-asleep himself.

You wanted to say something, but a cough pushed its way out first. “Olli, are you busy today?” You were taken aback at how rough your voice sounded.

“No, why? What’s wrong?”

“I think I’m sick and I can barely get myself out of bed.” A sentence that long had hurt to get out. “Can you come over? I’ll pay you back later.”

You could hear the sheets on his other end rubbing together as he sat himself up. “You don’t have to do that, I’d take care of you for free. Give me half an hour, I’ll be there.”

You smiled. “Thank you, my love. See you soon.” As soon as you ended the call, you began a coughing fit that put a cramp in your side. You couldn’t wait for Olli to arrive so you didn’t feel like you were suffering alone.

Olli already had a key to your house, which he used to get in today. He called out your name, but there was no response. He journeyed further into your room to find that you had already fallen back asleep, the exhaustion from barely being able to rest the night before putting you out again. Olli’s heart hurt at the sight of you looking so miserable, your face pale and covered in red patches from the pain in your sinuses, but you looked like you found some peace in your sleep.

He walked over to your bed, sitting down on the edge and rubbing your hair out of your face. It was clinging to your forehead with sweat, and he took a quick guess of your temperature. “Hey,” he whispered, leaning down to wake you up gently. “Do you have a thermometer?”

You opened your eyes slowly and smiled when you saw his angelic face hovering above you. “Yeah,” you answered. “It’s in the kitchen, top drawer by the sink.”

“Okay,” he answered with a smile, giving you a soft forehead kiss. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Olli?” you asked before he left the room. He stopped to turn around and greet you. “Can you make me some tea while you’re in there?” You then gave him instructions on how to make what you called your “sick tea”: steeped chamomile, warmed orange juice, honey, and cinnamon on top. He nodded with understanding and left the room.

You put your head back down to rest more as you could hear the sounds of him rambling around in the kitchen. It was a relief to know that he could come over on such a short notice to help you feel better. Olli was the perfect boyfriend, and dare you even say that he would make a great husband? But that thought was far off, and you would revisit the idea again in a couple years.

Olli returned a few minutes later, mug in one hand and thermometer in the other. He placed them down on the nightstand and helped you pull yourself up. “Temperature first, then you can have your tea,” he guided, pulling off the cap and bringing it to your mouth. He held your cheek as the numbers on the thermometer continued to climb and then finally come to a stop at 37.6 degrees Celsius. “Wait right here,” he requested as he walked towards your bathroom.

The water ran for a few seconds and then he returned, wet wash rag in his hand with water dripping down his arm. He sat back down beside you, holding the mug so you could take a sip before he dabbed away some of the sweat on your forehead with the rag. It was cool, but on your skin it felt like ice. You hissed with the change in temperature and Olli pulled back quickly.

“Too much?” he asked sympathetically.

You shook your head. “It’s fine, keep going.”

He continued to dab the cloth on your skin, looking lovingly into your eyes while he did it. A small smile crossed his lips, just enough to show his teeth and the gap that you adore. He pulled back once more so you could have a sip of tea before it got too cold. “Want more?” he asked, holding up the cloth again.

You shook your head no. “Later… tea?” He obliged to your request and held up the mug for as long as you wanted to sip. Olli was a patient man, but seeing him here now, doing everything he could to make you more comfortable, reminded you of why you fell for him in the first place. You wanted to cry, but it was also because your eyes felt like they were on fire.

“Lay back down,” he begged, helping you slide into a more comfortable position. “You look tired.”

You nodded. “Exhausted. I couldn’t breathe without being in pain last night and I only slept three hours. I was awake for no good reason.”

Olli slid onto the bed beside you, fingers still running through your hair. The motion and feeling on your scalp almost put you back to sleep on the spot. “I’m sorry, kulta,” he muttered quietly. “Do you have anything to help you sleep?”

You nodded. “Some NyQuil. But for now, can I have more tea?” The tea was almost cold, but you finished the last of it soon. It tasted better than if you had made it yourself, but maybe it was because Olli made it with love.

He put the mug away and slid up to you, wrapping his arms around you and holding you tightly. The nerves under your skin made your entire body ache, but being in Olli’s arms brought the pain to a temporary halt.

“Do you want to fall asleep soon?” he asked, his breath flowing through your hair.

“But I don’t want you to be bored when I made you come all the way over here.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I brought my laptop with me. Besides, you’ll need me when you’re not asleep, but you need to rest.”

Reluctantly, like an irritated toddler, you finally closed your eyes and laid your head beside his chest. His heartbeat was firm, calm, and music to your ears. Soon, you drifted into a comfortable sleep, all but your mind finally finding rest. You felt Olli leave your side but you were too tired to protest.

He leaned down once more and gave you a kiss on your cheek. “I’ll be in the living room, call me if you need me.”

Endnotes:

Literally based on a true story from last month.

I learned the “sick tea” recipe from when I was working in a coffee shop, so feel free to steal it next time you get sick because it works wonders. (If you don’t like chamomile or have any on hand, spicy chai works just as well.)

#bcfanweek #blind channel #olli matela #blurbs #everyone needs a gentle olli matela to nurse them back to health

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goofgoofdildo · 4 years

Text

I asked @goldandlights Ages ago if I could write a ficlet based on their post about Jaskier and Geralt both thinking the other doesn’t like touching them, and then I was suddenly busy doing volunteering work and hurting my knee so I only coughed up this now. I wrote it in a daze so not sure of the quality, but I wanted to keep my word that I would write something. read the tags also ig.

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Geralt watches Jaskier’s sparkly eyes scan the crowd. They catch on a man in his twenties, with strong arms visible inside his rolled-up sleeves. He’s tall and lean, weight rested on the support beam as he stands by and smiles along. Jaskier winks at him, and Geralt looks into his soup, which has grown cold, showing Geralt’s sour expression reflected back at him from between circles of solidifying fat.

Jaskier has told him, voice so gentle. He had sidled up to him, close enough to feel the heat but not touch, and said, ‘You know, when I perform, I sell everything. It’s a performance, and. I flirt with people a lot, but it doesn’t mean anything, you know? It’s just to get them to pay more, so we have coin?’ And Geralt thought he should say something, but he didn’t. ‘Anyway,’ Jaskier sighed and pressed on, ‘you can tell me to stop, I won’t mind at all, this just makes it better for us, but I can stop, if you say so.’ Jaskier touched his hand on the bed back then, the skin of his palm feeling like a blessing, and Geralt would have given him anything.

He almost told him he wouldn’t mind if Jaskier took a lover, really, it was okay, Geralt didn’t have a problem with it. It wasn’t as if Geralt had ever been in a relationship that exclusive. It was stupid, he knew, because that wasn’t what Jaskier was asking. He was just asking for permission to do his job, to do it well. Jaskier felt so devoted to the relationship, that he even considered asking Geralt for permission for something so futile. And Geralt never minded, really. It was easy to say yes, he wasn’t some horrible brute that would insist on controlling every Jaskier’s move and conversation. After all, a wink or two equalled to nothing, especially not when it was him who Jaskier fell into bed with in the night. And even if he were a man inclined towards such possessiveness, there was no reason for him to worry, not when Jaskier had only been with him ever since this started. As his eyes remain locked on his sweaty, glowing lover, he thinks back to the night in Vizima.

They’d pushed on to make it into the city, even though a storm and the accompanying darkness had been chasing them. When they made it into an inn, they were all thoroughly soaked. It reduced Geralt to short grunts, Jaskier into a mess of chattering teeth, and Roach huffed indignantly every time Geralt tried to spur her faster on.

In an inn packed with wet travellers, getting a horrible, drafty and creaky nook of a room was a clear win, they both knew this, but it didn’t stop Jaskier from shivering violently. Watching him stuff his fingers tinged blue with cyanosis into his armpits in a vain attempt to warm up, water dripping from his face onto the dusty floor, Geralt felt, not for the first time, a guilt wash over him. This was his doing. He selfishly let Jaskier come along with him, and when he did, Geralt failed to take proper care of him.

He told Jaskier to undress. All of his clothes were wet, as he insisted on keeping them up top in the pack so as to avoid wrinkleage. Geralt told him to dry his hair with the shirt of his that survived the rain. It was the one he slept in, pushed to the bottom of the bag. It took Jaskier dropping the shirt thrice for Geralt to help him very gently dry his hair.

Jaskier ended up in Geralt’s last clean shirt, wrapped in their spare blanket on top of the flimsy quilt found on the bed. Geralt hoped that once warm, Jaskier would fall asleep fast, at least, to end his shivery suffering. But watching him writhe on the bed, curled in on himself, as Geralt kneaded his rolled-up bedroll in his hands, it became very clear that Jaskier was not getting very warm. Geralt cleared his throat. Jaskier barely ever touched him. Sure, he washed his hair, he stitched his wounds. Jaskier saw that Geralt needed a massage and he provided it, his hot hands on Geralt’s back a revelation. But Geralt had made it clear that he needed no-one. So all of those things, Jaskier’s services, well. They couldn’t have been anything but insurance that Geralt would keep him. For some reason, Jaskier wanted to follow him, and Geralt wasn’t strong enough to let him know he had never had to earn his place. How he desperately wanted Jaskier to stay. He was constantly worried about scaring him off, too, about crossing a boundary beyond repair. And maybe that line would prove to be a hand on his cheek, or maybe a look at his blackened eyes. Geralt constantly felt like he was teetering on the edge of eternal doom of not being able to ever see Jaskier again.

But then, Jaskier was hidden in a pile of blankets and that pile was still shaking violently.

‘Jaskier?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Do you,’ he bit his tongue, ‘I shou—just. What if I held you?’

‘What?’

Fuck. ‘To keep you warm.’

Jaskier’s head peeked out of the blankets and a hand held them open until Geralt dropped the bedroll he’d been wringing with his hands. Once Geralt sat on the bed, he waited for Jaskier to position himself however he wanted. He seemed so scared, so hesitant, and Geralt was about to get out, take it back, but then his bard braced his thighs with his legs, knees by Geralt’s hips.

‘This okay?’ he said in a tiny voice. Geralt nodded earnestly. And then Jaskier plopped into his lap, as if it was nothing. He drew the blankets over them and wrapped his hands around Geralt’s torso. Jaskier’s dead-cold feet tucked themselves in the hollows behind Geralt’s knees as his legs lay stretched on the bed. It stretched around him, enveloping and consuming, the weight of the other body. It pinned him in place. He breathed hard as his arms slowly made their way around Jaskier’s torso. Jaskier wriggled closer, arms tightening around him, and then a thumb dipping under his shirt, touching skin. It sent a shock through Geralt’s body that he had trouble not showing. The thumb stroked that tiny bit of skin. ‘Can I put my hands here?’ Jaskier whispered, his head pressed sideways into the space between Geralt’s arm and chest. He nodded. Jaskier’s horribly icy hands pressed into Geralt’s back, the touch warming him nonetheless. Jaskier lifted on his knees to press even closer, and when he sat back down, Geralt first felt his nose press into his chest, Jaskier’s ear now so close to his heart that Geralt got worried he might hear the way it was slowly picking up speed, when he felt the second thing, that being Jaskier’s unclothed cock press against his own through his breeches as the bard sought to steal as much heat from him as possible. It made it so much obvious how vulnerable Jaskier was making himself. Oh, how precious the cargo in his lap was. How close, yet not enough.

When Geralt tightened his arms around Jaskier and sunk his back a bit lower to settle in for the night, Jaskier’s hands started making patterns on his lower back. Jaskier’s belly dragged along Geralt’s as he shifted to reach Geralt’s ear. ‘Thank you, Geralt,’ he whispered, his nose pressed behind Geralt’s ear. It made him shiver, that sweet breath on his skin, the tingling feeling left by a nose dragged along the curve of his neck until Jaskier’s cheek rested on his shoulder. Geralt moved a hand into Jaskier’s hair in response, carding through the strands reverently. It was soft even now, wet and tangled. Geralt thought of how much he liked it when Jaskier washed his hair, tried pressing the tips of his fingers into Jaskier’s scalp. Massaging it gently. ‘mm, Geralt,’ Jaskier grunted, but before Geralt could worry he was doing it wrong, Jaskier was pressing closer still, nosing at his neck once more. Geralt kept up the pressure, his other hand rubbing at Jaskier’s back to help him relax. The hands on his back picked up the pace, now warmer. A set of clipped fingernails ghosted along Geralt’s spine, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Geralt’s head tipped back, air leaving his lips in the shape of ‘Jaskier’. ‘Mhmm?’ was Jaskier’s response muttered against Geralt’s neck. Geralt’s fingers in his hair tightened their grip, and then a pair of dry lips pressed gently into his collarbone. Geralt inhaled sharply.

‘Geralt?’ Jaskier shifted to look at him.

‘Yeah?’

Jaskier pressed another dry kiss into the corner of Geralt’s mouth, ‘Geralt,’ and he stayed close, his breath on Geralt’s cheek.

Geralt chased that mouth, ’Jaskier.’ And then he kissed Jaskier, gently at first, but then Jaskier whined in the back of his throat and pressed closer, his cock hardening against Geralt’s stomach and that knowledge, that Geralt was making Jaskier aroused, was intoxicating. Geralt licked into his mouth, pulling him in by his hair. Jaskier’s hand was now holding his jaw, drawing in him hungrily, sucking on his lower lip. His nails were making patterns into his back and Jaskier kept making all those sounds, like he was having the time of his life. Geralt’s world changed in that moment, with the knowledge that he could be touched like that.

At the time, when Jaskier first touched his cock, when he took his fingers and pressed them inside himself until Geralt got the hint, Geralt gave little thought to what it would mean for them. He lay Jaskier down, because Jaskier wanted him to, needed him to, and he fucked him. He touched Jaskier, relishing in every contact of skin on skin. It was a gift, to him, that he could do it, and something in the earth shifted every time Jaskier’s tongue licked into his mouth, every time he thrust back onto his cock. The world shifted on its axis. They fell asleep together, Jaskier wrapped around the Witcher’s back, stroking his bicep. Gently. Lovingly.

He wasn’t there in the morning. Jaskier turned away from him, curled in on himself on the tiny bed, even though it was still so cold. He must have been cold. Geralt didn’t dare touch him.

They didn’t talk about it. Geralt was on a hunt while Jaskier entertained the guests in the tavern, and when he came back, there already was a bath arranged for him. Jaskier helped him bathe, rubbed a salve on his bruised side, put him to bed, and left to perform the rest of what he glamorously called a set.

Geralt couldn’t fall asleep that night, his mood soured. He’d thought he’d learned his lesson of not getting his hopes up. But secretly, in private, he could admit he was a foolish man. A romantic, Jaskier would say.

He remembers his mood only picking up the next day after the skies had cleared. The day turned out to be pleasantly warm and by the time they laid out their campsite, they’d made good time on the road, and managed to carry a normal conversation. They didn’t touch the whole time. Had dinner on opposite sites of the camp, even though they smiled at each other warmly. But now that Geralt knew what it felt like to touch Jaskier, he desperately longed for it. He excused himself and went to refill their water skins that they’d emptied after dinner. The sun was slowly setting as he was coming back. It caught on Jaskier by the fire, made his hair shine.

When Geralt got closer, he saw Jaskier had laid out their bedrolls next to each other, like always, not shying away, and it brought him some peace. They both started settling in, Geralt checking around the campsite for anything Jaskier could have forgotten to do, just out of habit. When he finally turned to the bedrolls to settle in, he saw Jaskier put away his lute and look at him, a warm smile on his lips, his eyes piercing. Geralt’s throat went dry.

Jaskier was on the bedrolls only in his shirt, clothes folded neatly on the side. He was sitting on his heels, hairy thighs spread wide, off-white shirt pooling at his crotch where the hand holding an instrument just seconds ago now disappeared to rest idly. Geralt had no idea what was happening. He wanted to tell Jaskier to touch himself, for christ’s sake. He wanted to ask if he’d been bewitched, even though he hadn’t let him out of sight the whole time. He wanted those lips on his.

And he got that, but not before Jaskier let him fuck his throat. And then after the kissing, they tumbled onto their bedrolls, bodies plastered together, and Jaskier fucked himself on Geralt’s cock until he came on it, like he didn’t turn away from him in the night, like there was nothing odd about this. He didn’t let him pull out, either, his forehead pressed into Geralt’s chest, sitting on his softening cock, Jaskier repeated ‘Thank you. Thank you,’ until his breathing calmed down.

Geralt didn’t know what he was thanking him for, but as he held Jaskier in his arms that night, grazing his bare shoulder with his lips, legs intertwined, he thought, I can live like this. If he could only hold Jaskier in the night, when the lust rode over the part of Jaskier’s brain that was repulsed by affection from a white-haired Witcher, then Geralt could live through the cold light of day.

He knew he looked like all the things Jaskier had been told to fear, but as the man himself had said, they also made him interesting. But it was clearly a different thing to write a song about his wondrous yellow eyes, and to look into them as the Witcher touched him.

Geralt is very old. He has the white hair of an old man. Maybe Jaskier despises the way the strands slide over Geralt’s pale skin in the harsh light of day, making him look gaunt like the dead. Or maybe the touch of a hand scarred with the taking of lives of creatures is too much for him. Geralt eats raw meat, sometimes. It’s easier. But maybe it disgusts Jaskier. Maybe it scares him. Geralt had never even considered that his breath might smell bad because of this, before they started fucking. He had never thought to rub oil into his skin for fear that Jaskier might find the scarred skin of his back much too rough for comfort, too easily reminded of the way Geralt got the scars, in the first place.

Or maybe it’s just his face. His nose has been broken many times, after all. It sits a bit wonkily on his face. And his scar disturbs the skin, reminiscent in shape of his pupils. Out of all the things Jaskier grew up around, only cats and snakes have yellow eyes like that.

Geralt, watching himself in a bowl of soup, feels every bit the wretched creation of a misguided experimenter that he is. If he can only have Jaskier in the night, then that’s a blessing, and a miracle. If Jaskier can’t bear to be with him like that outside of bed, that’s okay. Geralt can’t compare in any regard to the blacksmith with shiny tight curls of chestnut hair on his head, can’t beat the sweet smile of a flirtatious barmaid. He wonders if, when Jaskier asked if they were to take other lovers, if he really meant to suggest that Geralt find someone else alongside Jaskier, so the burden of comforting Geralt wouldn’t only rest on him. But Jaskier said he would not take anyone else, maybe out of misguided loyalty, and Geralt felt it was polite to promise the same. And then, it almost made it feel like they truly belonged to each other, like this was a real thing Geralt could have.

So when Jaskier finishes his set and makes his way over to Geralt, sitting beside him, but hesitating to touch his hand even as he reaches out, at first, Geralt tells himself he’s thankful for this. He wants this, this is good. He’s a Witcher and having Jaskier like this would prove dangerous for both of them. He pulls away from Jaskier and settles further into the corner of their bench.

Jaskier, now hunched over his own steaming bowl of broth, watches Geralt move out of the corner of his eye. His hands tremble with grief for touch he can’t have right now. He wonders what that smells like to Geralt. Maybe like security, like understanding. And Jaskier does understand that Geralt has boundaries, and he respects them, it pleases him to know that Geralt likes him enough to show him how far he can go, and lets him make it right up to the line. He holds him in the night, after they fuck. Sometimes, he feels Geralt’s lips on his shoulder when he shakes from a post-orgasm forty winks. Jaskier tucks those touches into the bottom of his heart, where nobody will ever see how much he wants them. How he wants so much more, yet would never ask.

He knows Geralt lets some people touch him in everyday, non-utilitarian ways. He has seen him and his brothers, clutching arms and punching chests, holding hands, even. Geralt says they sometimes fall asleep in a heap by the fire in winter. But clearly, that requires an amount of trust that he hasn’t reached yet. It’s okay.

Jaskier watches Geralt in that corner. His hair is mussed quite badly, his cheekbones highlighted by the way dust has settles in the hollow of his cheeks, and Jaskier absentmindedly raises his hand to call over the barkeep so he can request a bath for their room. They haven’t looked for contracts, yet, it’s way too late for that, so they might even fuck tonight. Here’s to hoping the bed isn’t ridden with lice, he thinks.

The barkeep saunters over, giving him a cheeky grin. She’s beautiful, with round cheeks and a sharp nose. There are laugh lines around her eyes, a roughness to her hands, and a sparkle in her eye. She has been calling the owner her husband the whole time, but flirted with Jaskier nonetheless, clearly enjoying the attention, although he suspects it’s all just talk. He likes her. She places a hand on the table in front of him, leaning on it, and he slips a hand on her waist. He laughs when her eyes sparkle and fully expects the little swat of the washcloth across his knuckles that she delivers with a playful stomp of her foot.

‘Careful now, bard, or I might become utterly besotted with you, and whatever will my husband do, when he finds you in my chambers?’

Jaskier laughs, his head thrown back, ‘Well, dear lady, we might just have to find out!’

Geralt drops his spoon into the earthen bowl with a surprisingly loud clatter. His jaw is tightly set, even though he looks up with an apology in his eyes and resumes his eating.

The barmaid’s smile dwindles, but then comes back to her, this time in the form of a soft curl of her lip. ‘Well, it’s all just talk anyway, bard. I’m too old for you, and you’re too inexperienced for me!’ she exclaims, and then lets Jaskier tell her his order. She pats his shoulder as she goes.

Geralt’s eyes are closed now, as he rests his head back in the corner of the wall. He’s all tensed up. Jaskier reaches out a tentative finger to trace along Geralt’s pointer finger where his hand rests on the bench. Geralt’s breath hitches. ‘Forgive me,’ he says, and draws his hand back. Jaskier swallows his hurt. He wants to touch so badly, but instead, he draws into himself. ‘There’s nothing to forgive, Geralt,’ he pushes out and stuffs his face with the broth.

The bathwater is cold, as was to be expected, Jaskier supposes, but there is a hearth next to it, and the room looks very nice, actually. Candles are burning in arrangements of two and three in their holders, illuminating the room very well. Perhaps this is the lovely barkeep’s way of apologising to Geralt for what he saw as infringing on his territory. Jaskier reminds himself to be less generous with his affections, next time. With another lover, he could hold them, touch them in a show of affection to ward of the sting of jealousy, but he supposes it is different with Geralt.

Jaskier looks into the water as Geralt undresses, making ripples on it with his little finger. He’s already added the little scented oil they had left. Geralt can smell it in the air, and it calms him a little, but he still moves with a weight holding him down, guilt dripping off of his limbs in invisible thick streaks. He wishes he could just tell Jaskier to go find the barmaid again. He wants to tell him he doesn’t need to keep doing him the service of bathing him, doesn’t need to watch him rub his skin back into gaunt paleness in this bright candlelight. But then, Jaskier smiles at him tentatively, like this might be the last thing holding him here, and Geralt once again remembers that, at the core, he is a weak man. So he goes and dips into the water, watching Jaskier turn once he’s in. As if it’s somehow better to see only his chest and face clearly.

Jaskier lathers a washcloth up with soap while Geralt dutifully scrubs at his face. He lets the cloth hover just above Geralt’s shoulder, asks, ‘May I?’ And Geralt nods courtly, displeased already that he can’t just tell Jaskier to fuck off if he doesn’t want to do this. He wants it so much, though, that he’s willing to cling to this.

He lets Jaskier wash him, run the cloth across his chest, his back. Jaskier massages his scalp with practiced fingers as he washes his hair. Geralt allows himself to stop thinking about them, about the man that is presently seeing to his aching back, and just focus on the sensation of being touched, gently. Being taken care of, even if out of perceived necessity. Jaskier hums a little melody under his breath, washing the back of Geralt’s neck, and Geralt wants to make home inside this moment, but only until he feels bare skin gently press against his shoulder.

Jaskier’s hand moves up and down a couple of times. ‘Okay?’ he asks, as if Geralt would ever ask for more. He nods nonetheless, and Jaskier’s hands start mapping his shoulders, massaging gently where he feels a tense muscle. Geralt’s hands ball into fists under the surface of the water as he tries to hold back content groans. He doesn’t want to sound like a fucking animal, not when all they’re doing is bathing and touching lightly.

Jaskier stops humming when his hands breach the surface of the water to rub at Geralt’s tummy. He throws his head back and finds himself almost cheek to cheek with Jaskier, who’s smiling lightly and breathing more easily than he has the entire time they’ve been in town. It unsettles Geralt greatly.

‘The bed seems nice,’ Jaskier whispers into his hair. It makes goosebumps appear along Geralt’s arms, and the low growl underneath Jaskier’s usual tone makes his gut clench. He thinks Jaskier might even be able to feel it. He makes himself nod, yes, he want to satisfy Jaskier. That’s what this is about, after all, although he suspects the pleasure really is his, and not Jaskier’s, especially with those fingers tracing circles into his skin at the hip. He nods a couple more times, just to make sure Jaskier has caught the answer, and the touch finally disappears.

‘Alright then, I’ll leave you,’ Jaskier sighs as he stands up, and leaves for the bed in the other room. The water seems to turn colder the minute Jaskier withdraws his touch. Geralt tells himself to cheer up. He can earn it, tonight. He can hold Jaskier until the morning, clutch onto his body like a drowning man, and he’ll be okay in the morning.

When Geralt makes it into their room, there are candles lit in every corner, and the bed has got a blanket and a heavier quilt on it, too, which are both certainly luxuries, for Jaskier and his standards. Jaskier isn’t there, he’s probably taking a leak outside or making sure the bath is drained and taken care of, so Geralt sits on the bed and waits. He opts to keep his shirt on, but he doesn’t keep his breeches, studying a scar from a week ago that is now healed on his thigh. Jaskier tended to that, it healed so nicely. But there are some uglier ones, turning skin into a sort of thick shell. The one on his face feels like that, too.

There is a polished piece of silver by one of the candlesticks, reflecting light back into the room and away from the wall. Geralt thinks back to the barmaid. She must be behind this, how good the rooms look. He regrets letting himself snap like that.

The mirror keeps looking at him, so he rises from the bed, checking the door with a glance, and takes it. He sits back, the mirror on his thighs, and looks. He’s always been like this, or so it feels like. But ever since that first night with Jaskier, or maybe the morning, something has changed. He tries to see himself the way Jaskier sees him. He studies the reflection, baring his teeth. They’re a bit yellowish, he will admit. And sharp. He knows how to kiss and suck with them, but he knows Jaskier can feel them. And there’s fuzz peeking out of his shirt, which Jaskier seems to like, except in the light, one can see how terribly pale it is. It clashes with his bright eyes, his knotty hair. He must look and feel like an oversized stray cat.

He’s still looking when Jaskier comes in. His strong back comes into view clad in a black shirt, white hair splayed over his shoulder blades. Jaskier thinks he looks lovely like this, half-undressed and soft from the bath. Geralt doesn’t even register him coming in, he’s so engrossed in whatever he’s studying on his thighs. Maybe he’s looking at his scars, as he’s recently started doing more frequently. It worries Jaskier, but he doesn’t know how to ask.

Jaskier undressed on his way to Geralt, already delighted at the amount of light in the room. They’ve been fucking for months now and he hasn’t had the chance yet to really look at Geralt in this much light. Fucking glorious.

He climbs onto the bed behind his witcher, hands hovering, keen to touch. But he’s not preoccupied with studying his own thighs for scarring. There’s a mirror on his thighs, reflecting the stoic face of the White Wolf back at them.

‘Jaskier.’ He says, grip going white-knuckled on the mirror. Geralt is rarely startled.

Jaskier points his chin at the now slightly raised mirror and Geralt’s gaze follows. They are both now in the reflection, one hair of white hair, long, the other short and brown and messy. One gaze warm, the other fresh. They go amazingly together. Jaskier smiles a little smile while Geralt stares.

‘What are you thinking about?’ Jaskier says, dropping his gaze. It feels too heavy to hold it on their shared reflection right next to Geralt’s unyielding eyes.

There is silence for a long while, and Jaskier studies Geralt’s thighs for him, since he’s busy looking in the mirror. There are a couple gashes on there that he was there for. He starts looking over them, the ones he knows by heart, when Geralt takes a breath. ‘You,’ he says. It takes a bit for Jaskier to realise. He’s thinking about Jaskier.

Okay. Right. That’s…a thing.

Jaskier wants to ask, he does. So many questions. What about me? Are you thinking about me in the mirror, the man so close to your reflection?

‘What are you thinking?’ Geralt beats him to it.

Jaskier’s eyes are still fixed on one of the bigger scar on his thigh. He places a tentative hand on top of it and looks up at Geralt. His knee brushes Geralt’s lower back, but Geralt doesn’t flinch away.

‘This scar,’ he tells the truth, really, when you think about it. Geralt looks him in the eye, then at the place where his hand covers the white tissue.

‘Remember how you got it?’ Geralt hums. ‘We went with Eskel,’ Jaskier drags his palm further up Geralt’s thigh, ‘I think about the two of you…how. How Eskel leaned into your side by the fire, while you rested. He touched your hair as I bandaged you up.’

Geralt hums again, and Jaskier knows that he’s pushing it, and he shouldn’t, but the words are out before he can stop them, before he can truly reconsider. He says, ‘I wonder why it is that you let him touch you like that, but not—not…me.’

Geralt goes completely still, gaze locked on his thigh. Jaskier withdraws his hand, clasps it over his mouth. He shouldn’t have said that. He goes to say, ‘Sorry, Geralt, I didn’t me—,’ but Geralt’s mouth moves first.

‘You’re…repulsed?’

Jaskier’s world shatters. ‘I’m what?’

Geralt is still not moving, but he sighs, ‘You touch me in the night. You kiss me, and let me hold you. I know you do it for me, Jaskier. You never touch me in the daylight, never when you can—can see, uh. See me,’ his knuckles are white in his fists now, ‘And that’s okay. I know I don’t quite reach your standards, but. But I won’t inconvenience you,’ The last part is choked out, Geralt’s jaw set tight.

‘Geralt,’ Jaskier whispers, ‘I didn’t know. I thought…Well, I thought.’

He decides, then. He pushes and pulls on Geralt until he settles against the headboard, and Jaskier climbs into his lap. Geralt looks at him, and his eyes are glazed over.

‘Geralt, love. I see you. I’ve always seen you, in every dark corner, in every thick forest, I always see you. I know what you look like. Know your hair, know your scars, know your teeth. I want them. Please, Geralt?’ And Geralt’s tears are beginning to spill, but he’s not moving and Jaskier is getting desperate, ‘Can I have that? Please? Can I hold you?’

Geralt nods frantically. Jaskier cups his jaw and swipes at his tears. ‘Can you show me how you want to be touched, love?’ he whispers.

Geralt reaches towards his cheek and takes Jaskier’s hand. He intertwines their fingers.

‘In public?’ Jaskier asks.

Geralt nods, says, ‘Please.’ And then he places a soft palm against Jaskier’s cheek, presses a kiss to his temple. He leans forward and hugs Jaskier. He repeats his plea a couple times, until he settles with his lips over Jaskier’s.

‘Say it,’ he says, ‘Can I have you?’

Jaskier presses kisses to his jaw, ‘You have me, you have me, you have me.’

Geralt receives the kisses, the praise that night, and as he settles, Jaskier on his chest, he allows himself tentative hope that they’ll wake like that in the morning. He kisses Jaskier’s forehead and settles, eye catching that mirror, and thinks vaguely as he drifts off, we looked good together.

#I really don't know if this is good or not but am happy I actually wrote it hah #sex ment #self image issues #of the massive variety #self worth issues #geraskier #goldandlights

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imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul · 4 years

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Seven Times in the Shower

Merry Christmas! This is not even remotely Christmas related, but this is apparently the only thing I can get out right now. Love you all! If you like this, stay tuned for my upcoming Poe fic that should be posted.... soon?

**Edit** -- fic is posted here!

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader Word Count: 1,765 Synopsis: A few of the memorable times Poe and the reader have had in the shower.

Warnings: Nothing blatant, but it’s fairly smutty

The first time you shower together it’s rough and sloppy.

Another successful mission found you and Poe celebrating in the way you knew best, wrapped in each other’s arms, passionately telling each other how grateful you were to be together still. This time, you found your way to the tiny shower in his quarters. Pressed up against the faucet, he held you close to his chest as he fucked you. He stared into your eyes and showed you, multiple times, just how glad he was to be there with you.

Even wet, his hair still fit perfectly in your fingers. Even as you slipped, your legs still wrapped around his waist easily, like they were made to fit. Even as the water turned cold, and you reached your end, you couldn’t stop the heat that crept over your neck and face.

At the end, you tripped on your way out of the cramped space, making Poe laugh infectiously, beautifully.

You got better from there on out. No more slips. No more uncomfortable bruises from the faucet digging into your back. Just you and Poe. Naked, hot, and very wet.

Months from then, after a particularly long night of waiting for a supplier that never came, you walked back hand in hand with Poe, once again to his quarters. You liked fucking in the shower, but found the bed a much better choice for the night.

His sheets were soft around you as you gripped his pillow, his body thrusting into yours repeatedly. You fall down on the bed together, both of your heads of hair spiraling out around you. He snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you in close. You want to curl into his arms, nuzzle your face into the spot of his neck you liked to kiss most, maybe even rest up enough for another round, but it’s late. You know if you stay any longer you’ll end up falling asleep.

You go to get out of bed but he wraps a firm hand over your wrist.

“Stay,” he says, his voice thick with sleep.

Your first night staying over at his place, his hand never really leaves you. It just changes. It starts in your hair, playing with the ends until it moves up to your scalp, massaging your head lightly as fall asleep. One strong arm wraps over your stomach as you sleep, your back to his chest.

When you wake up, it’s early. You both have to scramble to get ready, having slept too late to get ready on time at your own place. You run to the bathroom and he throws you a towel, giving you first access to the shower.

He watches you as you bathe, the water dripping over your curves in a way that makes him want to forget all other responsibilities and cram into the shower with you. He finds it hard to focus on shaving his face as you quietly sing a song to yourself, the tune of which Poe can’t quite pick up just yet.

When you come out, Poe tries to play off just how distracting you were. You wrap yourself in the towel, and as you walk past, slap his ass. He laughs as you walk out of the bathroom and he watches you for too long, the sink water running in front of him having washed away his shaved hair from the sink long ago.

You kiss him when you leave. You shrugged into the clothes you wore last night and rushed out the door, almost not stopping to say goodbye. He calls out to you and you come rushing back, cradling his face in your hands as you kiss him quickly.

“Bye,” you say with a smile that is beginning to drive him crazy.

“Bye, babe,” he says, giving your ass a slap as you run out. He hears your laugh even through his closed door.

The water was hot on his skin when he remembered. Six months. It had been six months since your first date. He had taken you off-planet, somewhere that didn’t smell of death and anxiety and frustration, somewhere that didn’t smell like the Resistance.

You had worn your hair similarly to the way you wore it now as you got ready in the mirror in front of him. You tossed the plait over your shoulder and turned to the shower.

“Hey, I gotta go,” you said. He opened the glass door and smiled at you, leaning in for a kiss. “See you later.”

“Have a good day.”

“You too,” you said, halfway out the bathroom door, “Love you.”

The water was cold by the time he got out. Six months since your first date. Twenty minutes since you first told him you loved him.

“Damn, it shines even in here,” you said, giving your left hand a twirl. Poe laughed and took your hand in his, the water falling over his hair in ravishing curls.

“My mother’s ring looks good on you,” he said, rubbing small circles on your hand. You leaned in and kissed him.

“You look good.”

“You always look good,” he says, pulling you flush against him.

“Is that why you proposed?” you asked, tilting your head playfully.

“It had something to do with it,” he said, his calloused hands trailing down your slick body. “But I’m also looking forward to being able to do this more often.” It’s a tight squeeze, but he manages to drop down to his knees. You breathe in sharply.

“Well, it’s a good thing I said yes, then.”

After long days, which every day seemed to be becoming a long day with the Resistance, Poe looked forward to nothing more than a hot shower to relieve some of his tension. He was massaging the shampoo into his hair when the door slammed open.

“What the fuck, Poe?” you asked instantly. He sighs his annoyance.

“What?”

“I thought we were supposed to be going to my parents this weekend.”

“I can’t,” he said, lifting his head up so the water can rain over his face.

“You can’t, or you won’t?”

“Leia needs me,” he says simply.

“Yeah, well it seems like Leia always needs you. This will be the fourth time we’ve put off visiting them.” He runs his fingers over his face, groaning. “What?”

“Do you think I like doing this every day? Fighting all day, with no end in sight? The Resistance is bad enough, I didn’t expect to have to come home every night and have to fight with you, too.” You groan and throw open the door.

“God, you can be so difficult sometimes!” you yell, slamming it shut after you.

He waits for the water to bring him back to some peace, to understanding. He dries off and wraps the towel around his waist, coming out of the bathroom to find you sitting on your bed.

“Y/N,” he says softly after standing there, dripping, for a few moments without you looking up.

“What?” you ask, still not.

“I’m sorry.” He comes to sit next to you, the heat from his shower spreading to you, too. You look up at him his hair sticking to his forehead in silly shapes. You push it back. “Going to see your parents is important. I can talk to Leia, reschedule a few things-”

“No, don’t,” you say, shaking your head. “Obviously, this fight is more important than some stupid weekend with my parents. I was overreacting.”

“You weren’t,” he says, putting an arm around your hip. You lean in to kiss his wet forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Stop it, you’re beautiful,” he says, smiling as you roll your eyes.

“I don’t feel very beautiful,” you say, pulling away from his loving hand.

“Baby, this is how you’re supposed to look,” he says, putting a hand on your growing stomach.

“Well, I’m sick of it. I feel uncomfortable all the time, I can’t do anything by myself, and if someone else asks me if we’re having twins, I am going to lose my mind.”

“Hey, you’re gorgeous,” he says, bringing your eyes to his. You smile at him and lean in to kiss him. “It’s not twins, though, right?” You roll your eyes and climb out of bed as quickly as possible for a pregnant woman, which is easier said than done. “Y/N, I’m kidding!” he yells as you hobble to the bathroom. He hears the faucet start and rushes in after you.

“What?” you ask, your top already on the floor as you start to shrug out of your pants.

“Nothing, you’re just beautiful,” he says again.

“Shut up with that,” you say, stepping into the shower. Before he even knows what he’s doing, he strips off his clothes and climbs in with you. It’s a much tighter squeeze with your growing belly, but he makes it work, looking at you with loving eyes.

“You’re beautiful,” he says.

“What did I just-”

“I love your nose,” he says, touching it softly, “And your eyes, and your eyelashes.” He reaches for the shampoo bottle and begins to lather it in his hands before working it into your hair lovingly. “And your hair, and your shoulders, and your stomach, baby and all. I love your toes and your fingers and, and, and . . .”

It’s three years later. He now knows every song you sing in the shower, picking up the tune before you even start singing sometimes. The shower you have now is much bigger, but it can still be a tight squeeze. Your house is filled with more people, including a little one who never seems to mind her own business. You still find time for quick romantic getaways, usually in your shower.

“Hurry up,” Poe says, pushing you in.

“Jeez, don’t push,” you complain.

“We have to hurry before she wakes up,” he says, giving your waist a squeeze as you reach for the faucet and turn on the water. It comes out cold first, and the two of you cling together for warmth, only fueling the fire burning inside of each of you.

“I love you, Y/N,” he says sweetly, wrapping his arms around you tightly.

“I love you.”

A sound comes from outside. You both stiffen and wait for the telltale sign of a cry that means your getaway is over. When it doesn’t come you look back at each other.

“A quickie?” he asks.

“Yes,” you said, cupping his cheeks in your hands as you pull him in.

#poe dameron #poe dameron imagine #tros #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron oneshot #poe dameron fanfic #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameorn x you #star wars #star wars imagine #star wars oneshot #the rise of skywalker #star wars fanfic #star wars fanfiction #sw #sw imagine #sw oneshot #sw fanfic #sw fanfiction

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itscalledbisexualcrisis · 3 years

Text

Scrap Metal - Chapter 4

Summary: Hiro broke off her engagement to Kuvira three years ago and left Zaofu. All she wants is to live her quiet life in Republic City, away from her haunting past. Kuvira's catching up to her, but is she going to find what she's looking for? Or is she only going to reveal the secrets Hiro kept hidden from her all these years?

Chapter Summary: Hiro is called to Zaofu to help the city in preparation for Kuvira's attack. Meanwhile Kuvira is only growing in her strength.

Read on AO3 Here

The bath water sloshed around as Hiro got in, sighing into the steaming water. Kuvira smiled while taking off her robe. She got in alongside her lover, so that they were facing each other. It was a small tub but neither minded their close proximity. Their legs tangled together under the water and bubbles. Kuvira reached out to stroke one of Hiro’s calves. Hiro sighed again, opening her eyes to look at beautiful green eyes. Kuvira felt the water easing her sore muscles and she gave Hiro a lopsided grin.

Hiro’s hair was up in a top knot while Kuvira’s was in its usual braid. Hiro reached out and stroked the other girl’s incredibly long hair, taking it out of the braid slowly. Kuvira exhaled, relaxing into the hot water. It had been a long week for her and she was still recovering from the battle with the Red Lotus from weeks ago. From getting blasted by a combustion bender and a flying airbender to saving the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe, exhaustion was an understatement.

“You need a haircut,” Hiro observed.

“Yeah yeah yeah I’ll get to it.” She hadn’t even noticed these past few months just how long her hair was now. It reached her mid back at least. Her hands were busy massaging Hiro’s arms, covering them in soapy bubbles.

“Why don’t you just let me do it?”

Kuvira raised an eyebrow and she held back a smile.

“Darling, you’re very good with your hands.” She intertwined their hands together and brought them up to her lips to kiss each of Hiro’s knuckles. “But I don’t trust you to cut my hair. Besides, I thought you liked my long hair.”

“I do. But you’re always saying how hard it is to maintain and to keep out of the way when you’re training” Hiro’s hands travelled to Kuvira’s now wavy hair. It fanned out and around Kuvira before dipping into the water. Her hand scratched the back of Kuvira’s scalp, making her moan. Kuvira leaned into Hiro’s touch as she washed her hair, making sure to carefully get each strand. “What about a bob?”

Kuvira opened her eyes and glared at Hiro who wore a cheeky smirk. She splashed the girl playfully making Hiro yelp before pulling Kuvira by the waist. Their torsos were almost touching now. Hiro’s knees bent awkwardly spread out on either side of Kuvira’s body.

“You’re quite annoying,” she stated bluntly. Hiro hummed and pressed a quick kiss on Kuvira’s nose, making it scrunch.

“You love it though.” Hiro’s hands traced along Kuvira’s body, taking care around her bruises and scrapes. Years of being on the force have marked her up with various scars. Hiro traced a long scar running on the outside of Kuvira’s thigh. “And I love you. Every inch of you.”

Kuvira lovingly cupped Hiro’s cheek, stroking the smooth skin before leaning in and pressing a firm kiss on her lips.

---

“I need your help. Rumors are spreading that Kuvira is on her way to Zaofu. We need to fortify the city,” Suyin explained to Hiro over the phone. “You’re the one person that can help us. You know our technology better than anyone else and my husband needs help. Please.”

Hiro gnawed her lower lip. It had been a week since the coronation. Republic City was buzzing with anxiety over the news about the Earth Empire. Hiro kept her head down and tried her best to not think about it. Kuvira’s offer - well more like order - has been swimming in her head. She felt anxious that one of Kuvira’s men would show up at her door or at work one day. But no, they wouldn’t try to kidnap her right? Even Kuvira’s not crazy enough to do anything like that...right?

“I’m more than glad to help, but I haven’t worked on an actual defense system in years,” Hiro admitted. The last thing she worked on were the updates for Republic City. Even though it was recent, they were basic updates that were very outdated. Nothing like Zaofu. “I’m more involved with paperwork and Sato Mobiles nowadays.”

“Please. I’m running out of options. The United Republic can’t get troops out here in time to defend Zaofu. The only choice I have left is to protect my people. Asami has told me how you upgraded Republic City. She said your work was impeccable. I need you.”

Hiro sighed, looking out the window. There was already traffic building up and she groaned internally. She was already late to work this morning and needed to get going.

“I’ll think about it.” “Hurry, Hiro. We won’t have much time left.”

Hiro put the phone down, but couldn’t move from her spot in the living room. She wasn’t expecting a call from Suyin only a week after the failed coronation.

Kuvira’s army heading to Zaofu was unexpected. Sure she had threatened that she was reuniting the whole empire, but Zaofu was safe and secure. They weren’t like the other provinces of the Earth Empire starving or running rampant with bandits. Suyin had created a stable government and a well organized agricultural system to keep the people fed and taken care of, and they had long separated from the monarchy. It seemed like Kuvira was getting more power hungry by the day, and she wasn’t wasting any time in taking power.

But Hiro can tell from her short interactions with her, not to underestimate Kuvira. She was already considered a threat to the Republic Nation. More rumors were coming everyday in the papers about her war tactics and reeducation camps for the provinces and towns she does conquer. It made Hiro feel nauseous at the thought of Kuvira torturing people into submission. She knew Kuvira was harsh, but cruel? Suddenly Hiro wasn’t so sure about Kuvira trying to kidnap her.

She also still felt guilty about leaving Zaofu to help Kuvira all those years ago. Along with helping Kuvira, she left Zaofu defenseless. Kuvira had taken most of the troops from Zaofu, thus making it vulnerable to attack.

Another phone call interrupted her thoughts and she picked it up.

“Hey where are you? We have a test this morning for the next model,” Asami’s voice rang through the receiver. Hiro groaned.

“Sorry, sorry. I’ll be right there,” she croaked out. Her throat felt dry.

“You don’t sound okay, are you sick?”

“No, just got some news this morning,” Hiro reassured. She ran a hand through her short hair, pausing before continuing her train of thought. “Hey, I’ll explain more when I get there, but I need to take some time off.”

“Oh. I mean that’s fine, but is everything okay?” Asami asked, sounding worried.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll explain more when I get there, but I’m gonna be out of the city for a bit.”

It wouldn’t make the past disappear, but it’d be a step in the right direction to help the city she left behind.

Maybe it was finally time to go back home.

---

Kuvira stared out the window as the tops of the metal domes of Zaofu began to come into view. She thinks back to when she first approached the city when she was a child when her parents dropped her off with Suyin because of her destructive behavior. In reality, she was still only a child. She remembers how much she resented Suyin and her family when she first came to Zaofu, the feeling of being unwanted and outcast gnawing away at her. Eventually, she grew accustomed to the Metal Clan and even considered it her home in a way. But there was always a part of her that didn’t feel like she belonged. At the end of the day, she wasn’t a Beifong. Even though she was a Metal Clan citizen, she wasn’t actually from there. She was Kuvira, a girl left on her own in a big world to fend for herself.

She hears footsteps come up to her, but her gaze doesn’t leave the domes.

“Kuvira, we’re approaching Zaofu. We should be there within the next day or two,” Baatar reported.

“Thank you Baatar.” She feels his arms wrap around her midsection. She leans back on him, letting him take her weight. She didn’t let Baatar show too much affection in public, it wasn’t a good image to project on the new empire. But they were alone in this train car, so she let them have a brief moment of intimacy.

“We’re finally going home,” he sighs. He looks out over her head at the metal domes he also grew up surrounded by. She doesn’t point out how it was a different feeling of home they felt. “It feels like yesterday we just left.”

“Indeed,” Kuvira answers, still partially lost in her memories. All of those fights with the other Beifong siblings slowly crept up in her mind. She smirked at the thought of seeing their shocked faces when she showed up at their front door. “We’ve done a lot of work. I’m proud of where we’ve come.” Baatar takes her by the shoulders and turns her around so she’s facing him. His hands gently rub her shoulders, trying to ease the tension around the muscle. Nowadays, she was never relaxed. She told herself she’ll relax once the entire kingdom is reunited under her rule. His face is broken out into a large grin.

“I know you said we shouldn’t be celebrating so soon, but I can’t help it.” He leans down and kisses her forehead, lingering there. “Our dreams are coming true.”

She smiled slightly before turning back around to look out the windows. She knew how eager her fiance could be. But she knew better than to celebrate early. There could still be many things that could go wrong and she knew Zaofu wouldn’t be easy to conquer. She had an obligation to her people to reunite all of the Earth Kingdom. She had an obligation to herself to return to Zaofu as a winner. She couldn’t let Suyin win because in her mind, if she let Suyin and Zaofu go, Kuvira would never live down that shame. There would always be a part of her that itched for it, the need to have full control. And Suyin would never be a complacent leader, even if Kuvira left Zaofu alone. It would always be a thorn in her side, until she knew she had it.

While she was stressed, she knew Baatar was eager to return for other reasons. Every night he discussed another aspect of their upcoming wedding with fervor. Kuvira had more things to focus on, so she let Baatar do most of the planning which he didn’t put up a fight about. It didn’t surprise her anymore that Baatar was always eager to please her. It was something she found endearing to watch.

In the reflection of the window, her eyes met Baatar’s as the domes grew larger in the distance. Below them, they could see the dark green tanks and soldiers rolling up towards the massive metal structure.

“Welcome home, Kuvira.”

---

Hiro kept her head downcast towards her lap the entire train ride to Zaofu. Getting off the newly remodeled train, she stepped off the bronze train and on to the sleek metal platform. The air was different than Republic City; clear and crisp on the open air platform as a few passengers got off. Hiro walked to the transport station that would take her straight to the center of Zaofu and at the gates of the Beifong estate.

After over three years, she couldn’t believe she was returning. The city seemed to have only gotten shinier and larger since her departure. Although things had noticeably changed, she felt at ease in her surroundings. Zaofu was just built differently than the rest of the world; there was a constant buzz of electricity in the air that made Hiro feel at peace. The city was also surrounded by looming mountains, creating its own pocket in the world. While someone else might feel claustrophobic or overwhelmed, it made Hiro feel right at home.

But she couldn’t swallow the anxious bubble building in her stomach as she got closer to the Beifong estate. She let herself observe Zaofu and old memories pop up. From her seat at the window, she saw figures already standing there waiting on the platform for her stop. It was getting darker out now and the domes have already closed for the night. Hiro was lucky to get on one of the last transport stations and she was the last one in her car. Upon closer inspection she realized it was Baatar Sr. waiting there.

Her face broke up in a wide grin. She worked with Baatar Sr on many projects. Suyin was her mentor, guiding her in life and shaping her up to be the best version of herself that she could be. But Baatar Sr was her boss and she learned a lot of trade skills from the architect. Sometimes his inventions overlapped her department in security and they’d brainstorm together, testing his latest creations. Baatar Sr was one of the most intelligent men that Hiro’s ever met and someone she had the utmost respect for.

“Hiro.” Immediately Baatar Sr wrapped Hiro in a big hug. After a moment of initial shock, she hugged him back. Besides his salt and pepper hair, he hadn’t changed one bit. “It’s so good to see you again.”

“You too, Baatar. I’ve missed you, and Zaofu,” Hiro admitted. It was the first time she ever admitted out loud that she missed home. And saying those words made her realize just how nostalgic she had been. “Where’s Suyin?”

“She’s inside waiting. It seems that we’ve received a message from Kuvira.” Hiro was surprised.

“I thought Kuvira wasn’t coming for another few days?” Hiro asked. Baatar Sr frowned and shook his head.

“I’m afraid we underestimated her. Her army has marched here and are outside the gates right now,” he murmured. “We’re going to hear her out in the morning, but I’ve been working this whole day in preparation.”

Her heart dropped to her stomach. No. She was too late. For a split second Hiro thought about running back on the transport and going back to Republic City. Even though she told Asami about what was happening and got on the quickest train to Zaofu, it wasn’t enough. Kuvira was here and with an army. There was no use. No one else was coming and Zaofu was going to be taken just like the rest of the Earth Kingdom.

But then Hiro looked around her. The tall sleek metal buildings jutted out around her and the metal dome encased them in a bubble of protection. The memories from earlier came back and she realized how quiet everything was. These people didn’t deserve to be conquered. They were safe and living their lives here. It was their home; It was her home. She was tired of running, of avoiding responsibility. She may never forgive herself for leaving Suyin, but she wasn’t going to let anyone down this time. This newfound confidence drove down her fears and anxiety about herself. She couldn’t wallow anymore. She had three years to let the guilt eat her up, but now she was going to act. She was going to protect Zaofu, at any cost.

“Well that means I need to get to work,” Hiro said. Upon Baatar Sr’s surprised expression, she continued. “If I’m going to help, I’ll need you to catch me up.” Baatar gave a short nod and a smile, leading her inside.

---

“I’m not giving up Zaofu. I don’t care if you’ve brought your entire army!”

“Su I didn’t bring my army to threaten you. I wanted to show all what your son and I have accomplished.” Kuvira genuinely didn’t want to come into this meeting with ill intentions. She wanted to attempt to reconnect with Su and get her to join peacefully. Of course she knew Su was going to be difficult. Bringing Baatar Jr. and Bolin were her ways of trying to relate with the Beifongs. If she had any chance of getting Zaofu peacefully, this was the only way.

But as she looked around the room, it didn’t seem like that was going to be the case.

“You must realize what you’re doing is going against everything your father and I tried to teach you.”

“Son you belong here.”

Kuvira didn’t react, but inside she was seething. Even now, after all that she’s done they still didn’t take her seriously. They didn’t respect her or what she was doing. She should’ve known that all Su would care about is Baatar Jr’s wellbeing. They had no idea how difficult these past few years had been. She was the one who had to bring Zaofu soldiers together to go to Ba Sing Se, and she had to lead them around the Earth Kingdom these three years.

And everything she did, Baatar was behind her every step of the way. He was just to blame for everything as Kuvira was, in her mind. “Why? So that I can go on living in your shadow?”

“Don’t say that. Can’t you see she’s brainwashed you?”

“Ha!” she couldn’t help herself. “I didn’t brainwash him. I set him free. And now he’s accomplished more with me than he ever could’ve with you.” She did a lot of things, but she didn’t brainwash her people. And it wasn’t wrong, Baatar never would’ve accomplished anything substantial within Zaofu. Just like the rest of Zaofu; all this cultivated talent is wasted here for the Beifongs. The world needed to experience a fraction of what Zaofu had, and it wasn’t fair for Su to keep it all hidden away in this pocket world.

Kuvira zoned out as Bolin tried to ‘sell’ the Beifongs on the Earth Empire. It was his turn now, seeing as Baatar was only antagonizing his family further. Being in this room brought back a lot of old memories for her. And standing around people she grew up with who were supposed to be her family left a bitter taste in her mouth. All those years growing up around rich children in the same house, but realizing she would never be accepted by them. Especially Opal. They had the rockiest relationship growing up together. They would constantly get into fights when they were little over the most trivial things. Suyin always reassured her that Opal would come around to having a sister. It never happened though and as they got older, they ended up walking the same hallways as strangers. It didn’t bother Kuvira. At least she wouldn’t admit it did. She was supposed to be my sister, instead I was her burden. I was a burden for all of them. “Hiro? You’re here too?” Bolin asked, bewildered. Kuvira whirled around and sure enough Hiro was there standing in the middle of the hallway, dumbfounded. She was on her way back to the lab, when her curiosity grew upon hearing shouting coming from Suyin’s office. “Well...this is kind of awkward.” “Sorry for interrupting,” Hiro stuttered out, backing away from the door.

“No Hiro, stay,” Su commanded. “You were smart enough to leave them, please tell Baatar what he’s doing is wrong.”

“Mother how many times do I have to tell you, there is nothing wrong with me!” Baatar argued. Kuvira put a hand on his shoulder before handing him a stack of papers. They were the terms for Zaofu to join the Earth Empire.

“We’ll give you all some family time to talk things through. You have twenty-four hours to join the Empire, or we take the city by force,” Kuvira said matter of factly. She turned to Baatar. “Meet me at the transport station when you’re ready. And please,” she takes one last look around the room, “take all the time you need. Come, Bolin.”

And with that she walked out of Suyin’s office, closing the office doors behind her. Bolin trailed after her, a worried look on his face, but he kept quiet. Now it was only the three of them in the hallway and the silence was deafening.

“I’m surprised to see you here,” Kuvira admitted. Hiro glared at her, not budging in her stance.

“Same here. I didn’t think you’d ever want to come back to Zaofu.”

The tension between them was high and Bolin began to shift uncomfortably from behind Kuvira.

“I’m gonna...head back on my own, if that’s okay!” he quickly added on to the end. Kuvira gave him a curt nod and he was bolting down the hallway towards the exit. It was followed by another short pause and both women watched each other very carefully.

Kuvira had gotten a good look at Hiro back in Republic City, but now dressed in casual slacks and a short sleeve shirt, she couldn’t help noticing how well they fit Hiro. She was never the type for business casual attire, more so preferring her overalls and work boots. And Kuvira could also tell that she seemed tired. The bags were clear under her eyes as well as how her face seemed riddled with fatigue. Her short hair was held back by a bandana she tied around, but it was coming undone.

“Well...it seems that Suyin has accepted you back,” Kuvira said carefully. “You must be right at home.” “I’m only here to do work,” Hiro answered. “I’m protecting everyone from you .”

Kuvira smiled and crossed her arms.

“Me? What, because I brought reinforcements as a back up plan? It wouldn’t be wise of me to come unarmed to an armored nation like Zaofu, would it?” she teased. It only made Hiro clench her fists in irritation and Kuvira noticed. Maybe she could have some fun with the young woman. “Plus, if I knew you were here, I would’ve worn my nicer uniform.”

Hiro choked on her breath. Was that flirting she sensed? And sure enough Kuvira had a shit eating smirk on her lips, amused at Hiro’s flustered state.

“Quit playing your games. They won’t work on me.”

“I’m not playing any games. You all make me out to be the villain, but I’m just trying to help everyone,” Kuvira shrugged. She takes a step closer to Hiro, backing her into the wall. She could see the wavering in Hiro’s eyes and she submitted under Kuvira’s green piercing eyes. “I meant what I said. You will join me, one way or another.” If Hiro lost focus, she could swear she could feel Kuvira’s hot breath fan her face.

“If I didn’t know any better, I would think the Great Uniter was obsessed with me,” Hiro shot back. “Trouble with Baatar? Or are you just bored of using him?”

“Baatar is a grown adult. He can make his own decisions. He doesn’t need me or his mother to tell him what to think,” Kuvira defends.

“I’m sure you persuaded him in your own manipulative way,” Hiro spat. Kuvira sighed, taking a deep breath to control her anger. She didn’t want to have an all out brawl in the middle of Su’s house. Especially since it looked like they would be getting nowhere the peaceful route.

“It was three years ago,” Kuvira affirmed.

“Yeah well, I never forgot.” Hiro closed her mouth immediately, clearly not meaning for those words to slip out. It was too late though, the truth was out. I never forgot about us. It made Kuvira pause. Hiro’s shoulders sagged and for a moment let her guard fall. “You might’ve forgotten, or maybe you don’t care, but just because it was years ago, it doesn’t change how you hurt me.”

Kuvira could only stare blankly at Hiro and take a step back, clearly not expecting that kind of reaction from Hiro. She’s seen Hiro at her highest and lowest points. How when she got very excited or passionate about something, she would bounce on her heels in child-like wonder. Or how when she was sad she would curl into herself and get even more impossibly quiet than usual. But this was a different type of low. She said her words with defeat laced through it and broke her gaze from Kuvira, as if ashamed.

“I didn’t forget.” And it was true. How could Kuvira forget about Hiro? How could she forget about her first love, who looked so small in front of her now. “I meant what I said. We grew apart, we wanted different things. There was a lot going on and I’m not proud of some of the things I’ve done. I never wanted to hurt you.” I thought it was going to end up with you.

The thought crossed Kuvira’s mind so fast that it startled her and she needed to take another step away from Hiro. She hadn’t had thoughts like that in a long time. They came often when Hiro first left, but she thought they had all gone away. That all the past feelings towards the other woman had faded and been replaced with her love for her country and Baatar. And Kuvira quickly forced herself to push down the doubt that crept up. She couldn’t have thoughts like that. She was with Baatar, and they were so close. She couldn’t ruin it all now with stupid old feelings.

Hiro hesitantly glanced up at Kuvira before brushing past her to walk down the rest of the hallway. Her eyes trailed after her and as Hiro retreated further down the hallway, Kuvira’s racing thoughts also subsided.

---

That night Hiro kept busy at the workstation, trying to find any holes she might’ve missed in Baatar’s schematics. Documents littered around the tables in a unusual mess. She wasn’t messy, but now with the time ticking she could only feel flustered. She slides out a keyboard from one of the machines and starts typing new codes and programs into it, double checking work she knows she’s already looked at. She can’t help it. Suyin and the twins had left, and she was anxiously waiting for them to return. It had been a few hours, and she reassured she would be back by the morning. But Hiro definitely couldn’t sleep, so instead she worked.

A bead of sweat dripped down as she realized she needed to go to one of the domes and check the mechanics herself. As soon as Baatar brought her to the estate, she got right to work. She worked nearly all of last night and all day after the meeting with Kuvira. She brushed away any time Baatar asked if she wanted a break. She needed to correct her mistakes, and there was no time left. She needed to focus on making sure Zaofu would be protected and use every second she had to save it.

Hiro made her way outside and towards the edge where the dome was. The construction was a marvel to her, and to make it more safe seemed impossible. Baatar’s design was nearly flawless.

Then she remembered who the enemy was and she started climbing up the ladder, tool belt strapped around her waist. She was so focused she didn’t notice Korra walking up and climbing alongside her.

“Hey, need a hand?” Hiro was shocked, but recovered, gripping her tools tightly. Down below near the house, Baatar was seated on the steps lost in thought. He paused working when Su left, too overcome with anxiety to even try to work. Jinora and Opal were arguing not far away about what to do. Hiro felt bad for Opal. She was close with her mom, so it only made sense she wanted to help. But from what Hiro knows about airbenders, it was highly inappropriate to incite violence.

“I’m okay, thank you though,” Hiro responded. Korra nodded, but stayed on the platform as Hiro opened a panel of wires. She began working on them diligently.

“So...I wanted to ask you. What should I be worried about with Kuvira?”

Hiro was so surprised she almost electrocuted herself on two wires.

“W-What?” Hiro stuttered.

“I mean, Su told me about you two,” Korra started. Hiro paused momentarily in her work, but her eyes trained on the wires before her. “You seem to know her pretty well. Is there anything you can tell me about her?”

“Why do you want to know? Aren’t you trying to take her down?” The lump settled in Hiro’s abdomen at her own words.

“I talked to her today. And I’m having doubts. Kuvira seems like she really cares about doing the right thing,” Korra reasoned. Hiro snorted, shaking her head and going back to her wires.

“Well that’s your first mistake,” Hiro spat. It caught Korra out of her thoughts. “Don’t underestimate Kuvira. She’s a master manipulator. She knows how to act sympathetic to get what she wants, but the second she doesn’t get what she wants,” two of the wires sparked wildly in her hands and Korra flinched, “she destroys it.”

Korra kept quiet, letting Hiro’s thoughts settle in. Hiro didn’t stop working until she was done and putting the panel back in its place.

“If you really want my advice, I’d say to get it over with,” Hiro confessed, the harsh reality settling into her shoulders. At this point she hardly noticed Korra there. After these past few weeks, she hated admitting it. She knew Su confidently wanted Kuvira destroyed, but Hiro held out hope that Kuvira was redeemable. “Believe me, Avatar Korra, it isn’t something that’s easy for me to admit. And you also have to believe me when I say, Kuvira had good intentions at first. Part of me truly believes that there’s still some good in her. I mean fuck, I was engaged to her. But maybe Suyin was right, maybe this is the only option.”

Before Korra can answer the crackling of the loudspeaker rang out around them.

“Attention citizens of Zaofu. Your leader, Su Beifong, attempted to attack me tonight while I slept, ignoring the terms of our truce. Luckily, I now have her and her assault team in custody.” It was Kuvira’s voice echoing throughout the night. Hiro’s eyes widened and she turned to Korra, who was also shocked at the news. “Rest assured that I will not take revenge on the peaceful citizens of Zaofu, unless your remaining representatives meet me outside the city at dawn to offer the full and unconditional surrender of your city. That is all.”

The loudspeaker cut out and they heard Opal calling for Korra’s name on the ground. Both of them clamored down the ladder to the other three at the steps.

“Korra! Korra, you can't let Kuvira get away with this! We have to go break out Mom and my brothers!” Opal pleaded.

“I agree. There’s no telling what Kuvira will do to them,” Hiro chimed.

“What you need is sleep ,” Baatar commanded from next to her. His voice made Hiro jump. He had been so quiet ever since Su and the twins left that it surprised her.

“But-”

“No,” he firmly said, gripping both of her shoulders. “You’ve worked nonstop ever since you got here last night. You need to rest. That’s an order.”

Hiro sighed, but knew better than to argue. And now that he had mentioned it, Hiro could feel her body calling out for a bed.

“I’ll wake you up tomorrow once everyone is home safe,” Baatar reassured. Hiro bit the inside of her cheek anxiously. Korra put a hand on her shoulder and she turned to face the Avatar.

“Jinora, Opal, and I will go talk to Kuvira at dawn, and, maybe, we can work something out. I promise, I'll do everything I can to keep the peace,” Korra comforted. Hiro nodded hesitantly before heading into the house, walking past Huan, Meelo and Ikki as she did.

She didn’t even have time to process her anxiety because as soon as she hit her bed, she knocked out right away.

---

Kuvira was enjoying herself more than she thought she would. She’s been planning on the Avatar’s return, but didn’t expect her to be so weak. Granted, Korra looked like shit in Kuvira’s opinion, with the peasant Earth Kingdom attire and frizzy hair. This definitely wasn’t the same Avatar she saved all those years ago in Zaofu from the Red Lotus. No, the girl in front of her now was sloppy and tried to fight with guttural strength than actual tact or thought.

Kuvira was always a gifted fighter. It’s how she moved up ranks with Suyin’s guards so quickly. She was one of the youngest guards ever to be promoted Captain in Zaofu and was wildly talented from a young age. Some even considered her one of the best metal benders of her time. She dedicated a lot of her youth to training and improving her gifted skillset. Although she trained under Suyin, who studied a more progressive and newer form of bending, Kuvira spent a lot of time studying old techniques as well. She kept herself grounded and alert, while also making sure to have complete awareness and control of her surroundings.

Not one foot out of line. Not one rock out of place. It was all about control.

For her, she expected more from Korra. Even with all four elements at her disposal, she could still barely land a decent hit on the Great Uniter. It was sad to watch really, but for Kuvira, it just drove her ego up. Here she was sparring with the Avatar, master of all four elements, and she barely broke a sweat.

Dare she say it, she was having fun.

“Come on, Avatar, get up! Show me what you've got!” she challenged smugly.

“No! Stay back!” Korra groaned, directing her attention to Opal standing behind Kuvira. “I can handle this.”

It made her even more confident knowing Opal was behind her, unable to help the Avatar. Who’s powerless now?

Kuvira got back in her fighting stance, eager for more. This is what got her blood pumping. This was what she was always good at. And she finally had an opponent worthy enough for her full strength as a metalbender.

Korra sent a fire punch right at Kuvira’s head, who dodged and countered the attack. Her body moved fluidly as she bent the ground at Korra’s feet, turning her around and putting her off balance. Korra counters and tries bending a chunk of earth back at Kuvira, but is met with a metal plate around her ankle. Kuvira throws her like a rag doll midair and to the ground a few yards away. She can hear her soldiers cheering after her.

“You have to go into the Avatar State! Do it !” Suyin commands from her platinum prison.

Kuvira is already lunging towards Korra, when she sees her eyes glow white and is propelled back by a gust of wind. The blast knocks the breath out of her and she groans, skidding across the earth and trying to regain her footing. Korra who’s now in the Avatar state is much quicker now and leaps towards Kuvira, landing right in front of her before sending another gust to push her back even further.

Kuvira is thrown back across the ground, her body groaning in pain from the sudden force. She feels her hair come out from its neat bun. It takes her a moment to make out her blurry vision, but when it clears, she looks up and sees Korra risen from the ground in an air spout. A giant boulder above her is about to crush her and Kuvira braces for the impact. Everything is moving too fast and the boulder is too big even for her to counter.

This was it. This was going to be her end

Suddenly, Korra fell out of the Avatar state, the boulder falling hopelessly next to her as Kuvira got on her feet. Korra had just tried to kill her under Suyin’s command. There was no turning back from that. It was now or never.

“I knew you were weak.” Kuvira shoots out two more metal bands and suspends Korra in the air by her wrists as she is getting ready for another attack. She smiles wickedly and sends Korra straight to the ground and trapping all but her head in a mound of earth. Kuvira stalks up to her, still trying to regain her breath as she releases six metal cuffs from her uniform. She bends them each to have a razor’s edge. This was it. This will show everyone that she should be taken seriously. That it wasn’t the monarchy or some stupid prince who saved the Earth Kingdom. It was all her. And she was going to make an example of Korra to begin the new era of her rule of the Earth Empire. I will prove to them that I will not be pushed around.

As she gets ready to end it, a squall of air sends her flying back towards her army. She grunts as she lands harshly on her back and two of her soldiers help her to her feet. Her eyes land on the airbenders and she scowls.

“You broke our agreement! Attack!”

---

Hours passed, but Hiro didn’t even feel like she slept an hour. When she woke up the sun was up and shining through the window of the guest room. Dawn. It was way past dawn now.

She flung herself out of bed, realizing that Baatar never came to get her. Which only meant that Su and the twins never returned. Her heart was racing as she sprinted down the empty hallways, trying to find someone. Zaofu was unusually quiet this morning, which only made her nausea grow.

Hiro burst through the main doors and saw Ikki and Meelo flying on to Pepper, the flying bison. Baatar Sr and Huan were also there, opening the dome for them to fly out of.

“Wait! Let me go with you!” Hiro shouted. Everyone was surprised. She had only been asleep for a few hours and no one was planning on waking her for a while.

“Uh no can do m’am. We’re going over enemy lines,” Meelo huffed. Ikki had the reins in her hands and was ready to take off. The motion drove Hiro to a panic.

“Please, I can help!” Hiro tried to push her way towards them, but Baatar held her back.

“You can’t leave Hiro, it’s too dangerous,” Baatar Sr said worriedly. “You need to stay here in Zaofu with us, you can’t risk getting captured. We can still save Zaofu.”

“No! We can’t.” His eyes widened at Hiro’s confession. Zaofu was a lost cause. They were going to be sitting here waiting to be taken by Kuvira. There was nothing left here for Hiro to do. She wet her lips and looked him dead in the eye. “Listen, I think...I think I can talk to her.”

“What?”

“Call me crazy, but I think I can get through to Kuvira.” “What do you mean?” Ikki inquired, her attention piquing at Hiro’s confession. “I don’t know exactly. But yesterday, she said something to me. I can save everyone if I can just sit down and talk to her.” She left out the part about Kuvira’s fixation on Hiro joining the Empire. She knew she could use herself as leverage if it came down to it.

But there was also something else on her mind ever since her conversation with Korra last night. Kuvira was power hungry and letting the control get to her. However their interaction yesterday showed a bit of humanity from Kuvira and Hiro couldn’t put a finger on the anxious feeling she had until now.

There was hope. Suyin was wrong. There was something still redeemable in Kuvira. It was small and Hiro could barely make it out, but when she looked into Kuvira’s eyes yesterday, she swore she could see it. Fear . And fear meant that Kuvira was holding something back: a weakness. If Hiro could find Kuvira’s weakness, then maybe, maybe , she could save the Earth Kingdom. And possibly even save Kuvira from herself.

Ikki and Meelo exchanged concerned looks before Ikki turned to her.

“Hurry, hop on.” Hiro did as she was instructed and climbed on to Pepper. She looked down at Baatar and Huan with sadness in her eyes. She could see how grief stricken Baatar was. Huan was all that was left of their children. That look he gave her of utter defeat, made her solidify her decision. She may not have been able to save Zaofu, but she was going to save everyone. Even if that meant throwing herself in front of her dictator ex-fiance to do it.

---

Chaos ensued. Opal and Jinora tried to keep a steady tornado to push the army back. They were able to throw back the front lines and keep them from advancing. Kuvira struggles against the wind, but manages to gain her footing enough to shoot two metal plates out at Opal, successfully handcuffing her wrists together. Opal falls to the ground in surprise at her new restraints.

“Opal!” Jinora only has time to react before she’s also restrained by Kuvira’s metal bands. The army behind her is still struggling to get back in formation when Kuvira walks up to the three of them. Her hair is an utter mess now, but she couldn’t care less. She leers down at the airbenders with distaste.

“I have to say, you both are strong to keep my army back, but not strong enough,” she taunts.

“Dive Pepper, dive!” Kuvira turns her attention above to the flying bison coming down. On it she sees two airbenders and… “Hiro?”

It comes out in a whisper and she shakes her head, focusing on the three captured before her. She releases more sharp metal from her uniform, directing them on Jinora, Opal and Korra. Her attention is drawn to Korra, who seems to be coming from her earth prison.

“Any closer and I take them out, right now,” Kuvira threatened. Ikki gripped the reins tighter on Pepper, causing them to stop midair. Below them the army was almost all put together again, getting ready to storm Zaofu and the three prisoners. “Hold, we don’t want to aggravate the air nation,” she turns her attention to the people on the bison, “These two interfered during a peace treaty, therefore considered terrorists to the Earth Empire. They will be taken and punished accordingly.”

Hiro looked on in horror between Meelo and Ikki. They were two kids, and even though they knew how to kick ass, this was beyond them. She could see them struggling with what to do. On one hand if they tried saving Jinora, Opal and Korra, Kuvira could kill them in an instant. But they couldn’t just fly back from their mission without Korra and their sister. It was a choice that needed to be made and Hiro only had a second to think before reacting herself.

“Kuvira!”

---

“Kuvira! Please stop this!” Hiro begged. Kuvira barely glanced at her, ready to turn around and leave the Avatar and airbenders for her soldiers to take care of. She needed to head into Zaofu herself if she wanted to claim a true victory. “If you let them go, I’ll go with you willingly!”

That made Kuvira hesitate. Hiro now had her full attention and Hiro noticed. The army around them were antsy, the tension in the air was bursting at the seams. Kuvira knew Hiro could only get a few words in before everything fell apart.

“Now why would I want that?” Kuvira teased.

“You know I created the best security systems for Zaofu and for you back in Ba Sing Se. I know how the security systems work and how to make them better, better than Baatar or Varrick. I could take the Earth Empire to newer heights than you could’ve ever imagined.” The words spilled out of Hiro so fast she had to gasp at the end to catch her breath as she heaved. All four airbenders looked on at her in shock and Korra had just regained consciousness at Hiro’s speech. She didn’t take her eyes off of Kuvira for a second though.

Kuvira was impressed. Sure she could easily take Hiro forcibly right now and take that sky bison and Airbenders with them for interfering with international affairs. But Kuvira also needed to think of the bigger picture. If she was going to continue ruling the Earth Empire, she had to show at least some compassion as a leader. Already people were saying she was too harsh and cruel of a ruler to the Earth citizens. She used her military strength as a weapon often to get what she wanted. It was easy to make people obey when they were put in tight positions.

But she already wasn’t popular with the United Republic. It didn’t let Kuvira go by that she had air benders in her clutches. It wouldn’t be good to have a second large enemy like the Air Nation, especially after seeing their strength with only two of them. No, Kuvira was going to be smart about this and as diplomatic as she could be.

“Hiro, no!” Suyin cried, but she was ignored. Hiro motioned for Ikki to land Pepper, who did so hesitantly. Kuvira didn’t react at first, but simply watched as Hiro climbed down from the bison and held both arms up in surrender.

“You’ve got a deal. The Avatar and airbenders are free to go.” Kuvira returns all her metal razors back to her uniform and unbends the earth from Korra who fell to the ground immediately. Jinora and Opal rushed to her side, trying to get her on Pepper as quickly as possible.

Hiro’s eyes widened.

“What about Suyin, Wing and Wei?” Her eyes traveled nervously to the trio in their platinum boxes. They had been stunned by her appearance into silence, unable to even think of words to react to what was happening.

“It’d be foolish of me to let go the previous leader of Zaofu who has been trying to overthrow my empire, go. And her assault team who tried to attack me in the middle of the night while I was asleep. They stay, and that’s final.” Kuvira motioned for her soldiers to advance on to Hiro. Two of them flanked her as she walked towards Kuvira. “I have no issues with the Air Nation or the Avatar. She wanted to fight me, so we did, and the airbenders attacked me during a truce. I think I’m being more than fair here.”

“Cut the bullshit. You knew what you were doing.” Kuvira’s lip quirked upwards before turning back to the sky bison and the individuals on it, looking on in horror.

“You might want to get going,” she instructed. “Make sure to tell Master Tenzin and President Raiko, that this was a gift from me. Don’t take it for granted.” She gave an extra devious smile to Opal who could only glare down back at her as the bison took off into the air. She turned to her army still anxiously waiting for their next orders. Kuvira thrusts her arm in the air in victory a wide smile embellished on her lips.

“Zaofu is ours!” The army cheers alongside as the dust clears from the airbender’s tornado. She turns to Hiro who has been led to stand directly in front of her now. She’s still on her high as she looks at the other metalbender triumphantly. “Oh Hiro. It’s good to be home.”

---

“I think Su should do something about this.” Kuvira had her head upside down and was drying her hair vigorously with a towel. “What do you mean?” she asked groggily, sleepy from their bath. She lay cuddled on her side of the bed, waiting for Kuvira. “The Earth Kingdom is in ruins. Master Tenzin and President Raiko are coming tomorrow and I’m assuming it’s to ask Suyin for help.” Hiro nodded, listening carefully. Kuvira had been keeping up with the news closely from around the Earth Kingdom. The only province that wasn’t thrown in chaos was Zaofu and technically they were a separate entity from the rest of the nation. It seemed like everyday they were getting more distress messages from neighboring villages and towns asking for food and resources. They tried their best, but could only do so much given the circumstances. Bandits had sprung up and were invading smaller towns and the kingdom seemed to have fallen overnight. It seemed like no matter how many messages or pleas they got, Suyin stayed neutral much to Kuvira’s annoyance.

“Things are rough out there. We’re lucky we’re safe here, in Zaofu.” Kuvira snorted at Hiro’s quite ignorant response. She flipped her head back and let her hair cascaded down her back. It was still quite damp, but she couldn’t be bothered. It was always such a bitch to dry. Maybe Hiro was right...she did need a haircut. “But does that bother you? We’re lucky but what about everyone else?” Kuvira threw the towel in a laundry bin before climbing into bed next to Hiro. She lay facing the other girl, who was looking at her curiously.

“Why is this on your mind so much?” Hiro inquired.

“I don’t know. Maybe I don’t like seeing people hurting when I know we could be doing something...that I could be helping them.”

“It doesn’t always have to be about you darling,” Hiro sighed. She reached over and squeezed Kuvira’s shoulder. She was careful though, knowing it was still sore. Her thick eyebrows knit in confusion.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean that you don’t need to always be at the front of the fight. You already do so much for us, for the Metal Clan. Isn’t that enough?” “But there’s a whole country of people out there starving and dying!” Hiro was surprised when Kuvira raised her voice. “All Suyin and the Metal Clan do is protect their own.” Hiro caught the tone of bitterness in her voice.

“Why are you getting mad at me for this?” she asked carefully. “I’m not!” Kuvira tugged away, making Hiro’s hand drop between them. She lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling. “Well it seems like you are!” Hiro huffed. She leaned up on an elbow, trying to make Kuvira look at her, but her eyes were glued to the ceiling. She was trying to search it for the answers. There just had to be something more to life than just sitting in Zaofu. It seemed like this was something calling for her to do.

“You should be upset. This isn’t about you or me or Zaofu. It’s...it’s about everyone.” The realization was clear in her voice as she struggled to pull her thoughts together. It had been weighing on her mind now, this feeling of dissatisfaction and guilt building inside her. Who was she to be living comfy when the rest of the world was suffering? “And from what it seems, the Avatar is out of commission for who knows how long.”

Everyone knew that Avatar Korra needed time to recover after the final battle with the Red Lotus. Kuvira had been on the front lines for that fight. She saw the beating that Korra took from Zaheer and his team. Rumors are that she’s gone back home to the Southern Water Tribe to recover, probably with the help of Katara. Who knows when she’d be well enough to return to her Avatar duties? Or if she even realizes how the rest of the world is falling apart without her? Kuvira didn’t blame her, but without the Avatar or any real leadership, someone needed to step up.

“So that’s what you think? You’re trying to be the Avatar and take on the responsibility of the world now?” Hiro asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“Is that wrong? I don’t see you doing anything to help.”

“Because it’s not my job. My life is here with you in Zaofu and the technology I work with everyday. Being with you is enough for me,” Hiro sighed. Clearly annoyed, she turned on her side with her back facing Kuvira. But her ears perked up to Hiro’s words and now she was the one sat up and staring at her partner’s back.

“What does that mean?” The familiarity of the conversation shifted and Kuvira clenched her jaw, knowing what was coming next. “I’m not doing this again.”

“No you already started, so say it,” she urged.

Hiro exhaled, already regretting opening this can of problems once again. She sat up and turned on the bedside lamp. She stayed seated on the edge of the bed with her back to Kuvira.

“You just can’t sit still Kuvira.” Hiro’s voice was laced with disappointment, which made Kuvira’s heart sink. The last thing she wanted was Hiro to be disappointed in her, her biggest advocate. “I love how passionate you are, about your people and your job, but it’s hard to keep up with. I’m not you. I don’t move as fast or make quick spur of the moment decisions. It’s not easy for me. Sometimes it just feels like our life isn’t enough for you that you have to make up for it by doing reckless things.”

“Sorry it’s such a problem for you,” she bit back. She let the sadness creep into her voice and she could feel the anger bubbling down to her hands from her heart. “If I’m such a burden then why are you with me then?”

Hiro turned to look at her, face as hard as stone. She was wide awake now and pissed. Their gentle loving bath from earlier was completely erased from both of their minds.

“See! This is what I don’t want to do! You take something I say and take it to the extreme!” Hiro fell back on the bed and ran a hand over her face.

“You’ve said enough.” Kuvira pushed the covers off of her and headed towards the door.

“Where are you going?”

She didn’t respond, she just left their bedroom. Maybe she’d go to the gym and hit something or find a sizable rock to launch in the courtyard. Wherever she decided to go, it was better than being insulted by her own fiance.

#kuvira #kuvira fic #kuvira x oc #originally on ao3 #tlok #lok fanfic #legend of korra fic #kuvira x reader

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quirklove · 4 years

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I beg of you- some soft Tomura, Compress, and Setsuno headcanons, please. I’m on my simp shit rn

aw, you don’t have to beg!! I’m constantly on simp mode for these babes

soft soft soft soft!!!!

ATSUHIRO

Is always humming something or other when he’s around his S/O. It might be an old nursery rhyme that’s stuck in his head, it might be some catchy pop tune that he keeps hearing on the radio, it might even be their favorite song. He’s nearly always an outgoing personality, but his S/O makes him so happy it puts that extra little spring in his step.

He’s a man of culture, (Name)! Somewhere he has a small stash of money from his past that he can draw on, so every once in a while, he likes to treat his friends and his S/O. (Most of the time, that cash goes to making sure they all actually have enough to eat or emergency supplies, and it’s obviously not too much money, so he doesn’t do this horribly often.) If anyone else will join him in disguise, he might be inclined to go with his S/O to a play or musical… perhaps even a ballet if the tickets are affordable enough. If no one else comes, ah, that’s alright; he’ll go with (Name) anyway, then bring back a slightly nicer dinner than normal for everyone else so that they aren’t left out. Maybe once or twice a year he does this, so everyone better enjoy it!

Noooo, he doesn’t wear the balaclava when he goes to bed, nor is it the first thing he puts on in the morning. He loves those times ― lying down to sleep and waking up. He gets to feel so vulnerable and exposed with his S/O, having them stare at him with his entire face uncovered, feeling their hands run through his hair like only ever allows in private. Plus, the fact that their gorgeous face is the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes in the morning? God. He’s gone soft. At least that softness is only for them, otherwise he might have a problem.

He likes to play cards with his friends and S/O if they’re not busy. No missions means he’s at the bar playing poker with Kurogiri, or war with Dabi, or… well, all Tomura ever plays is let me turn the cards to dust because fuck your games, Compress. What a brat!! One can practically see his face light up behind whatever mask he has on when (Name) asks him to teach them a game.

No matter what, he makes the extremely conscious effort to always give his S/O some gesture of affection before he goes off on a mission. Whether it’s tipping his mask to lovingly kiss their cheek, giving their fingers a passionate squeeze, or pulling them close for a gentle hug, he won’t leave without doing it. It’s a subtle way of saying goodbye, just in case things might go sideways. He acknowledges that the League’s affairs are incredibly dangerous and illegal; they could all die on any mission. He wants his beloved’s potential last memory of him to be something good. If he ends up dead, he doesn’t want them left with any doubt as to the fact that whatever else is true, he adores them very, very much and wants them to be happy.

TOMURA

Nightmares are a frequent thing with him, unfortunately. Sometimes it takes the form of memories, remembering the night his Quirk activated, leaving him with the image of crying in the middle of a circle made of his family’s corpses. Sometimes it’s a horrifying scenario in which Decay works on him, where he wraps his arms around himself and feels himself disintegrate piece by piece. Sometimes it’s his literal worst nightmare, a scene where he touches his friends or his S/O and they turn to dust in his fingers. Sometimes he wakes up screaming, his hands balled into fists so hard his nails are digging crescents into his palms and drawing blood, just so he can’t hurt anyone he cares about. Having his S/O take him in their arms and hold him close, kissing his face, whispering that he’s safe, reminding him that they’re here for him… he might not get back to sleep, but he finds comfort enough to stop crying within an hour.

There is one lone, solitary, singular way (Name) can get him to wear lip balm. That would be… to apply a surplus of it to their own lips, and proceed to give him as many kisses as he’ll allow them to in one go. Sure, the chapped lips aren’t unattractive ― but they’ve gotta hurt like hell. Just let your loving S/O lessen your pain a little, Tomura, you gigantic baby!! Also, they should pick a novelty flavor when they do this. It increases the number of kisses he’ll accept when their lips taste like vanilla frosting or Dr. Pepper.

Is like… the worst at any kind of self-care. He forgets to wash/comb his hair, he definitely doesn’t shower quite enough, he’s had at least one infection from not taking care of the wounds on his neck. The only reason he isn’t dead is Kurogiri, and later gains another reason; his S/O, obviously. Whenever he’s not working on his and All For One’s plans, he’s playing video games, and trying to get him away from that is like pulling teeth. However, his S/O has turned out to be very good at doing that. They can easily entice him with a warm shower together, and he’s pretty sure he’s never felt something as amazing as their fingers massaging his scalp as they wash his hair. Even though the ointment they want to put on his neck smells like medicine, he tolerates it simply because it feels nice when they rub it on. They’re always so gentle with him, and it just about breaks the poor man.

When encouraged and left in a non-stressful environment, Tomura is actually not terrible with children. He’s awkward, sure, he’s grumpy, sure, he doesn’t suffer brats, sure, but all things being equal, he does alright. Most of the time he’s not too scary around kids, or at least doesn’t act scary. (His appearance freaking some of them out, ah… that’s another story.) Though he’d have to do a lot of preparation, he might actually put an incredible amount of effort into learning if he found out he was going to be a father. How the man can’t manage to muster up the motivation needed to wash his clothes before wearing them a second time, yet can summon the will to read a ton of different parenting books, the world will never know. The point stands ― having a child combined with his love for his S/O would be a huge catalyst for his realizing that he doesn’t hate everything and everyone, and the world isn’t all bad.

Whenever he wants to touch his S/O in a sweet, intimate way but doesn’t feel comfortable or safe using most of his hand, he’ll use one finger. He might curl his fingers in to run his thumb gingerly over their cheek, or trace his knuckle down the side of their arm, or use the tip of his index finger to draw down their spine so he can see them arch their back. Tomura has never, ever had this before. Despite knowing he has to be careful, that he wants to be careful with them, there’s something endlessly fascinating to him about seeing how they react pleasantly to his touch when all his touch has ever done before is destroy. This also works in reverse; he wants to experience every possible touch of theirs that they’re willing to afford him.

TOYA

When he sleeps with his S/O, he really, really loves to be the little spoon. (He’s pretty well convinced that anyone who says they don’t, at least from time to time, is a liar!) It makes him feel safe and secure, like everything’s okay, like his S/O cares about him and wants to protect him. If he’s not being the little spoon, and sometimes when he’s the little spoon but facing them, he tends to cling in his sleep. His arms wrap tightly around their waist, his head buried in their chest or their neck or their back. It’s a product of his depressingly possessive nature; he loves them so much, they’re the best thing in his life, and he just… doesn’t want to lose them. Even while he’s asleep, he never wants to let go.

There are times Toya thinks about letting his hair grow out a little longer, to his shoulders maybe. The biggest thing that stops him is that he doesn’t know how he’d look with long hair. He isn’t sure he’d look that great or that he has the face for it! He’s a little afraid that with his more delicate features, having hair longer than it is now would lead to him being mistaken for a woman. If he mentions it to (Name), he might be a little startled by their enthusiastic, “Oh, that would look so charming on you!” coupled with a reassurance that they love his appearance no matter what he decides to do with his look. As far as they’re concerned, even if he ends up not doing it, they’re still going to think he’s the most handsome man ever. Knowing they’d support it, though, makes him think about actually doing it.

He rambles a lot, particularly when he’s feeling anxious. He rambles a lot. That goes along with his hands fidgeting and sometimes his leg bouncing a bit if he’s sitting down. For some reason he finds it hard to sit still or be quiet. He feels the need to fill the silence with something. So he talks, about anything and everything and occasionally about nothing at all. Most of the time only his S/O (or sometimes a friend) placing a hand over his, threading their fingers together, can calm him slightly. Often a gentle kiss when he’s doing the motormouth thing will get his mind to slow down and focus… at least to the point where he kisses back, and happily drowns in them for a while.

While not ‘on the job’, Toya… is usually kind of unsure what to do with his time. He reads, he watches TV a lot, he… sleeps. God, he sleeps. He seems to spend his life in a weird state of either being asleep or seeming wired as hell. There’s not really an in-between for him, at least not for a long time. He has trouble finding balance, especially since he’s so depressed. It seems to other people that he’s got too much energy and doesn’t fit the profile of what many people think a depressed person looks like. In truth, this is probably more accurate than people would like to think ― he hides the fact that he feels numb or sad by masking it with upbeat, happy, sometimes crazed behavior. Thankfully, he can sometimes find real happiness with his S/O, and it’s because of them that he might seek any kind of treatment so that he can feel better more often. Good thing, too, because not only will he be chasing a healthy life… his smile, genuine, painless, unaltered by any kind of forced joy? His true smile is the most beautiful thing.

Okay, but the man… has a serious sweet tooth. Most of the Hassaikai have their own room, and they can fill it however they choose. Toya’s cabinets are filled with nothing but sugary snacks. Even though he does eat regular meals, or at least tries to, he has to have something with sugar nearby to eat between. Chocolate is his favorite; he’ll eat almost any kind of candy, pastry, or even fruit snacks. If his S/O is very lucky, he will share! Pro tip: playing the pocky game with him is guaranteed to end in a cute, maybe steamy makeout session. And kissing any leftover chocolate that gets stuck to his lips? Oh, he’ll blush so hard.

#depression tw #My Hero Academia #Boku no Hero Academia #Atsuhiro #Tomura #Toya #headcanons #romantic #platonic #fluff #angst #hurt/comfort #domestic #drama #fuck I love these boys so much #SO MUCH LIKE HECK #I hope I know that I would die for them

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milkkygirls · 4 years

Text

in all her beauty. (sam winchester.)

!lowercase intended!

summary: after a tough hunt and y/n getting pretty beat up from it, sam convinces his special girl that she’s still beautiful. even with all her cuts, bruises, and scars.

warnings: soft!smut (thigh riding, oral, penetration.) fem!reader, reader self-doubting herself, nudity, language, unprotected sex, some violence, angst, my dyslexic ass writing. (this isn’t set in any particular season— but its season one sam look since i’m a whore for it 😔)

wc: 2,638.

author’s note: i love sammy so much and him in soft smut is just my fave i had to write one! this is also mostly from sam’s pov!!! (i’d also like to bring up that english isn’t my first language! so if there’s any mistakes, i apologize.)

He always reminded her that her battle scars were beautiful. That they gave her the tough personality she only exuded when she fought the supernatural. She was shy, calm, collected, and most importantly, compassionate. Sam admired her strength through the tough times they went through on the road, and even before she met them. He could always have an intelligent conversation with her, talk to her about his feelings and just how he was in general. She was a good listener like that, she also gave great advice when he needed it.

At the same time she could also be a free spirit. She had told him once that she wished she was a bird, a bird that could just fly away when things got too hard and almost broke her, but he reassured her he would be the hands that held her like delicate porcelain. In the three years they’d spent together, he loved her more than she could ever imagine, there simply weren’t enough words in any sort of dictionary that he could accurately string together to tell her his love for her.

So when this recent fight got down and dirty he was worried, watching the love of his life, his soulmate, be thrown around the room like she was nothing by talking he wretched demon. But when the demon grabbed her by her neck and nearly squeezed the life out of her was enough to make him feel feral. He wanted to rip the demon’s vessel apart with his bare hands and vanquish the impurity. When he said what she called his “magic words” and all-too-familiar black smoke fled. He ran to her side, clutching her tightly as she coughed, violently almost.

He picked her up, protectively against his chest. Her feet dangled and her arms wrapped around him securely as he jogged as fast as he could to the impala, sitting with her in the backseat, calling for his brother. The eldest Winchester hurried and drove off, his prized car’s tires screeching against the asphalt at Sam’s impatience to get back to the Motel.

The motel was crappy, run down, but Y/N still managed to find something charming about the water stained ceiling and probably century old bedding. She was hurt, but had made Sam promise not to take her to a hospital. She may have hunted ghouls and demons for a living, things that only people had bad dreams about, but hospitals gave her the heebie jeebies. Something about them being so pristine in a place filled with death, a place where the reaper lurked, was unsettling to say the least.

Sam carried her into the motel, placing her down on the bed closest to the door. She smiled despite her busted lip, throbbing pain shooting through her face at the curling of her lips, “I can still walk Sammy.” She said softly, pulling her hair out of her ponytail and slowly (yet painfully) peeling her jacket off and tossing it to the ground. “I-I know, I just wanted to help you.” was all Sam said in response.

They both knew Dean would be gone awhile, going to the local bar to drown his problems in whiskey while talking nonsense to the poor bartender. “I’m gonna take a bath..would you mind helping me wash my hair?” She asked, standing up and looking up at Sam.

He towered over her, her gentle giant as she called him lovingly. He nodded in agreement and kissed the top of her head, watching as she took off her boots by the bed and walked into the bathroom. He followed when he heard the faucet turn on, opening the discolored white bathroom door to see her taking her pants off, kicking them to the side and next her shirt, tossing them into a pile before climbing into the tub.

The tub was cold, gave her goosebumps as the hot water helped her adjust to the difference in surface temperatures. She sighed in a relaxed tone and waded her fingers through the water, turning up to look at a flustered Sam. “What? Never seen a naked lady?” She teased and he shook his head with a chuckle, laying the jacket he had already taken off onto the counter before kneeling down.

He was at eye level with her now, his hazel eyes staring into her e/c ones. He noticed the bruise that formed around her left eye, and the dark purple one that ran around her neck. He leaned forward to give her the most delicate of kisses on her lip, to which she winced softly at the throbbing from it being busted. He chuckled again and looked down at his shoes, “Sorry, I forgot its fresh.”

“The pain doesn’t matter as long as I get to still be here with you.” She gave him a warm smile, handing him a cup that had been on the sides of the tub. He filled it to the brim with water from the tub, pouring it over her scalp. The quiet moan of pleasure that escaped her lips at the feeling of hot water washing away the dirt, blood, and grime from her skin was something Sam would have been ashamed to admit made him hard. She giggled,despite her physical health circumstances, and wiped the water away from her eyes, “You’re tense Sam.”

He knew exactly what she was talking about. She had known (and slept with) the youngest Winchester long enough to know when his blood was running south. He gulped and massaged her scalp, a little favor he did in return for all the times he’d lay his head in her lap on a tough night and have her fingers brush his worries away. She hummed in delight at this, enjoying the way the now warm water felt along the grooves of her back.

After her hair was good and washed, she stood up, baring all her shamless naked glory infront of Sam. She winked at him and reached for the towel, wrapping it around her body. But her teasing had made her forget about the pain that coursed through her sore muscles, but it returned when she tried to step over the tub edge, wincing until Sam hoisted her up and over, her soaked feet hitting the stained and cracked tiles and even leaving some patches of damp on his shirt.

Y/N followed Sam back to the main room of their motel room, rummaging through her bag to pull out a pair of underwear and her favorite shirt of Sam’s: the purple dog shirt. It always fit him snuggly, hugged his muscles in all the right places. But her? It swallowed her whole, drapped off her frame like a loose dress. She crawled into the creaky bed, her head planting itself firmly in the pillow as she watched Sam get undressed.

He was gorgeous. She always thought of him as a sculpture that was carved with the delicate accuracy that ancient Greek’s had. He was chiseled. A God in her eyes. “If I didn’t know better i’d you were watching me.” He said, a smirk curled on his lips as he plopped into the bed, pulling her as close and fast as he possibly could without hurting her. A rosey tint dusted onto her cheeks and she buried her face into the crook of his neck as a response. He chuckled, rubbing circles onto her back, feeling the bumpiness of the scars that resided there. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” He mumbled. She lifted her head, a quirked eyebrow. “Only everyday Sammy.” She responded. She pressed a kiss to his jawline, nipping at the skin and making him shudder.

His hand instinctively grabbed a hold of her waist, pulling her flush against him. The lack of barrier between her breasts and his chest was criminal. He wanted to eat her up right there, give her the best night of her life, but he didn’t wanna hurt her in the slightest. She didn’t want to be treated like a piece of glass though, she just wanted him to handle her without breaking her. She noticed his distraction with her chest and took the moment to kiss him. She ignored the pain in her lip, feeling as his lips molded perfectly against her own, relishing in the feeling of his fingers brushing through her hair.

Like an instinct, Sam pulled her on top of him, so she was straddling him, most importantly, straddling his thigh. She broke the kiss and gave him a confused look, resting her hands on his chest. “What’re you doing?” She wondered, staring into those hazel eyes with curiosity. He sighed and sat up more, grabbing her hands from his chest and interwining his fingers with her own. “You’re hurt and I don’t wanna hurt you more. So I wanna try something new.” He stated and her eyebrow quirked once more.

“Sam Winchester, are you asking me to ride your thigh?”

“Uh..yeah. Like your life depends on it.”

She was surprised to say the least, the blush creeping back onto her cheeks. He noticed this and his eyes widened slightly, “Only if you want to, that is.” He stated once again and she closed her eyes, letting out a deep exhale.

“You have no idea how long i’ve been wanting to do this.” Her looking directly into his eyes after this made him realize the amount of swelling that was around the affected eye, it wasn’t too bad though, nothing a bag of ice couldn’t fix.

“Go for it.” He encouraged, holding her hips, fingers digging into the meat there. She bit the good side of her lip and positioned herself properly, the feeling of his muscular thigh pressing against her core made her stomach do flips. She found the right spot, holding onto his shoulders as she began to rock back and forth against him, a quiet moan escaping her lips as she did so.

The friction she was beginning to create had her throwing her head back, feeling pure euphoria as Sam watched her facial expressions twist and turn with pleasure. That sight alone would make him cream his boxers but he kept himself cool and calm, wanting nothing more than to turn her on her back and fuck her till she couldn’t see straight. But patience is a virtue she always told him, and good things comes to those who wait.

“You’re doing so good... so beautiful.” He praised, his hands moving down to her thighs to help with the friction. His muscles moved so deliciously against her clothed core and she couldn’t bare it. She stared at him, a sweaty, panting mess. But he thought she looked stunning, glowing infact. Her motions became slower, more lazy as she reached her climax. Sam helped her move, wanting her to release the tension that had built up. A borderline pornographic moan left her mouth as she came to a high, falling forward into him, her hips still rocking against him as her face buried into his neck and her fingers ran through his hair. The sight of her riding his thigh made him hard, but the feeling of her rocking softly on his crotch made him groan.

In one fluid motion he had her on her back, careful enough not to hurt her. Y/N’s head sunk into the worn pillows, she was still coming down from her previous orgasm, but as soon as it ended it started again when Sam’s fingers looped around the elastic of her small shorts and pulled them down her legs, tossing them to the floor. She was embarrassed at how soaked her underwear were, but the heat that had caused her to become flustered hid her the embarrassment on her cheeks. “Lay back and relax beautiful... this is all about you.” Sam had a tendency to do that, to put her pleasure before his own, to make her cum a few times before he fucked her. It was sexy to her, especially erotic when his fingers interwined with hers as he ate her out, his eyes never leaving her own.

He looked at her before tugging at her panties in a way of asking for her full consent. she nodded and squeezed her thighs shut when she felt the lacey fabric slide off her legs. His calloused hands rubbing against her thighs and spreading them open. Already, she had her head thrown back in anticipation. She ignored the stinging of her bottom lip as she bit down on it, the bitter taste of metallic blood creeping its way into her mouth. The second his lips and tongue made contact with her slick folds had her arching her back, one hand covering her mouth from the moans while the other gripped tightly onto his thick locks, making him groan in return.

The vibration from the back of his throat went straight to her clit as she writhed beneath him, whimpering as his muscular arms wrapped around her lower half to keep her still. His skilled tongue moved gently along her folds, kissing her inner thighs and even letting her come on his tongue before he crawled back up to meet her lips. The taste of herself overpowered the faint metallic taste as their kiss grew deeper. Sam wrapped her legs around him. He hoovered over her smaller frame, he was panting almost as much as she was.

So when he fumbled with his sweatpants, he struggled to keep his own balance, feeling her small fingers dig softly into the flesh of his chest, kneading like a cat does when it wants attention. He kicked his bunched up sweatpants to the floor, same with his boxers, letting his erection free to lay on her stomach.

“I need you.” she whined, moving to kiss his jawline, “I know baby.” Sam replied, loving the feeling of her teeth grazing against his throat. Her tongue ghosting passed his adam’s apple made him hum in pleasure. Sam looked at Y/N once again, the hazel in his eyes nearly blown away by the lust that dialated his pupils, once again silently for asking her consent. Her yes was to lock her ankles tightly around him, nodding.

Sam grabbed his hard member, sliding it along her the wetness of her pussy, feeling her fingernails dig into his back bone. He lined up with her entrance before using the juices to slide into her, fitting perfectly. She had to take a few seconds to adjust, her head sinking back into the pillows and her near breathless panting was something for the ages to Sam.

“Move..” She muttered beneath her breath, pulling him closer to her as he began to move in and out of her slowly. The heat in the room was now being thrown off of them, their moans and groans filling the air and the ears of passerby’s who walked passed the motel door. Her moved fluidly, and Y/N could feel herself pulsating from how he felt inside of her: warm, strong.

Sam grabbed onto her hips tightly, mumbling a slew of curses from his lips as he pushed into her, each clench around him brought him closer until his thrusts were lazy and slow, “Fuck...I love you.” He said into her ear, his teeth nipping at the shell of it. “I’m close.” She whimpered in response, letting herself unwind again around him. This is what cause him to go into his climax, spewing his heat inside of her and nearly falling completely ontop of her, a sweaty mess.

He rolled himself over, pulling her into his chest and kissing her forehead gingerly. “I love you, too, Sammy.” She whispered, closing her eyes as her old friend exhaustion caught up and tapped her shoulder.

As she dozed off, small snores emitting from her nose and mouth, he couldn’t help but admire the little constellation of freckles that speckled her nose and cheeks, or the way her eyebrows twitched as she dreamt, or the faint scar that adorned the top right area of her forehead from a djinn fight years ago. She was peaceful, she was beautiful, and Sam wanted to enjoy it just a little longer.

so, i hope you enjoyed my first published one-shot smut. i know its a little rough and my english is off— but i’ve been very excited to post on here and get everything as perfect as can be for you all! i’ll have a prompt list soon, but feel free to send requests 😊

#supernatural #spn #sam winchester #sam winchester smut #sam winchester fanfic #spn fanfic #sam girl #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you

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