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#[flops on the ground] this is what happens when i do not sleep
guiltyasdave · 1 month
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help me hold onto you
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pairing: Logan Howlett/Wolverine x mutant! f!reader
word count: ~3.5k
summary: Logan deals with feeling guilty after he's accidentally cut you with his claws in his sleep.
warnings/tags: explicit smut (-> 18+ only!), able-bodied reader, reader has hair that can be pulled, no use of y/n, Logan lifts reader up but he's superhumanly strong, so-, graphic description of an injury, graphic description of violence, angst, nightmares, Logan's pov, fighting as foreplay, unprotected p in v, rough sex, biting, praise kink, a lot of animalistic behavior due to their mutations, like they're just a little... primal, it's cute i swear, also reader looks like a human being it's just the mannerisms, fluff
a/n: guess i'm a multi fandom writer now? this literally came to me in a fever dream, very much like the logan brainrot itself lol. this is my first time writing for the man, after watching the movies - also for the first time - last week, so please be gentle with me <3 something very similar happens in the origins movie and i wanted them to explore that more, but alas, i had to do it myself.
massive thanks to @kiwisbell for assuring me that this idea isn't terrible and for freaking out about logan with me in general, to @catchallfangirl for coming up with the whole cat theme and for being so supportive, to @sizzlingcloudmentality for matching my freak and taking the cat theme to the next level, for helping me plot and for being an amazing beta reader, and to @javier-pena for listening to me rant about this idea and being so lovely and supportive <3
dividers by @saradika-graphics who is a queen <3
notifications blog -> @guiltyasdavenotifs & full masterlist -> here
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Most nights, Logan sleeps easier when you’re in bed with him. Your body pressed against his, your skin soft and warm against his bare chest. One of his thighs between your legs where you’ve wrapped yourself around him, your touch moving over his torso aimlessly, fingers curling into his chest hair, your hands kneading his flesh in your sleep. The soothing little purrs that emit from your chest when you’re sound asleep. None of it bothers him, no matter how many times it disturbs his own rest. 
It keeps him grounded, feeling you next to him. He’d rather spend the whole night somewhere in that haze between waking and sleeping, listening to your sounds, your breath fanning against his skin, than being pulled under into the depths of his subconsciousness. 
He’d rather open his eyes to see you disentangling your limbs from his, stretching your whole body, arching against him as you yawn. 
He’d rather greet you with a smiling “Good morning, kitten,” waiting for that adorable little crease to appear between your brows when you pout up at him. 
“Did I do it again?” 
He doesn’t hide his grin as he nods, growing wider when you flop back against the cushions with a groan. 
“What exactly?”
“All of it.” 
Your sorry comes out muffled as you hide your face behind your hands. 
“It’s okay,” he says, leaning over you to pull your hands away and kiss the pout off your lips. Caressing that spot under your chin with two fingers, watching you go all soft, baring your throat to him. “I like it.” 
He would much rather wake up like this. 
But it’s been a long week and he’s exhausted. Exhausted enough to get lulled into a deep sleep, encased in the safe cloud of your warm body against his and your touch on his skin. Exhausted enough to dream. And his dreams are not a safe place. 
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His eyes fly open with a shout, his whole body jolting upwards, every muscle pulled taut. He doesn’t even register the claws shooting out between his knuckles, all of his instincts screaming at him to fight. 
He’s only faintly aware of the sudden yelp of pain from beside him, the movement of something jerking away from him. 
“Logan,” your voice rings through the buzzing in his ears. Smaller hands landing on his shoulders, fighting to hold him steady. 
It takes a few disoriented blinks before he recognizes the familiar bedroom, a few more deep breaths to stop his body from shaking. To clear the fog in his head enough to understand what you’re saying.
“It’s me, Logan. You’re safe, everyone’s safe, it’s okay.” 
His eyes find yours in the semi-darkness. Wide with worry, but firmly trained on his face, repeating that everything’s okay. He finally registers the familiar weight of you straddling him, understands that it’s your fingers digging into his shoulders. 
He’s still panting, not daring to look away from your face again. The one tether that keeps him from getting lost in his mind again. 
“Are you with me?” you ask, your voice softer now. 
He manages a nod, tries to smile, to wipe the deep worry of your face, but he’s not sure if his mouth even twitches. 
As the feeling slowly returns to his body, he notices something else. A kind of wetness, warm and sticky where your right hand is connected to his skin. The unmistakable tang of iron in the air. He stretches to turn on a bedside lamp, jostling you along with his movement. A quiet whimper hits his ears, so low that he’s sure you tried to suppress it. 
With a new kind of panic surging through him, he grabs hold of your arm, bringing it to his eye level. 
Three scratches ooze in deep red, just beneath your wrist. It forces a gasp from him, eyes dancing frantically between the wounds on your arm and your face. How much blood did you lose already while you were busy helping him? As if he deserved it. 
“Fuck, I’m— I’m so sorry baby, we gotta—” He stumbles over his own words, grasping at you almost blindly, panicked tears blurring his vision. He did this. 
“Logan,” you say, still so inexplicably calm. “It’s fine. Look. It’s fine.” 
You gently pry his fingers off your arm and bring your wrist up to your mouth. Your tongue darts out, drawing long licks against your marred skin, collecting the blood and gliding over the cuts in your flesh. 
It pains him to watch, but it’s the least he can do. The least he owes you. He watches you clean the blood off, watches as the wounds start shrinking at the touch of your saliva, as the skin smoothes over before his very eyes until there’s only three thin marks left, a shade lighter than the rest of your skin. 
“Look,” you tell him again, extending your arm towards him. “I told you it’s okay.” 
He knows you can do this, of course he does. Has watched you multiple times, his fascination with your powers never wavering. How fluidly you move, how quick you attack, how skilled you are at surviving. You just never had to survive him. 
You lean down on top of him until your whole torso rests on his, your thighs still on either side of him, burrowing your head into his chest. “Which war did you dream about?” you ask quietly.
Most of the time, the dreams don’t grant him the mercy to zero in on one single memory. It’s a constant stream, one fight after the other, until all he knows is shouting, fighting, blood and death.
“All of them.” 
You sigh deeply, your breath cool against his sweat-dampened skin. Raising your head a little, you start placing kisses on his chest, pressing your lips into his skin where you can feel the faint beating of his heart.
“I wish I could kiss this better, too,” you mumble. 
He chuckles humorlessly, one hand reaching into your hair to scratch at your scalp. You shudder at the touch, an approving little purr traveling up your throat. 
“It’s okay now,” he mutters, leaning in to inhale the scent of your hair. “Just— I’m really sorry.”
“Don’t be.” 
It sounds so simple, falling from your lips like this. But it’s no match for the aching guilt that’s already eating at him, the questions of what if that start swirling through his mind. 
Your body is growing heavier on top of him as you relax, your breaths evening out and your eyelids fluttering shut. It soothes him, has his own breathing slowing down, but he can’t risk falling asleep again. Not like this, not with your body so close to his.
“What are you— Logan?” comes your instant protest when he moves you to your side of the mattress, your eyes flying back open, wide and mildly confused.
“I could’ve killed you,” he mutters. It could have happened so easily. Just a little deeper, just a slightly different spot. 
“No, you couldn’t,” you quip, arching an eyebrow at him. “Cats have nine lives, remember?” You sneak another quick kiss on his chest before finding his gaze again, a teasing smile on your lips. “Even kittens.” 
It’s an attempt to lighten the mood, to make him laugh. He knows that. You hate the pet name he’s given you. 
“And you’re not gonna waste one on me,” he grits out. 
Hurt flashes over your face, more pain in your eyes than when there was an actual wound on your arm. 
“It wouldn’t be—”
“Don’t you dare say it wouldn’t be a waste.” 
The words come out as a low growl, aggressive enough to send most anyone running. You don’t run. 
Your animal doesn’t like it when he growls at you. He can feel the tension rolling off of you, your hair probably standing on end. Gritting your teeth, you take a deep breath, release your fingers’ grip from digging into the sheets.
“Let’s talk about it in the morning,” you tell him, resignation in your voice. 
Your eyes fall shut again, your head for once resting on your own pillow instead of his chest. He misses the weight of it instantly. You doze off quickly, your hands still pawing weakly at his side, like your body can’t help it. He almost pulls you closer himself. 
While you sleep, Logan forces his own eyes to stay wide open, staring unseeingly into the darkness. 
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It’s a quiet day. You had tried talking to him, tried to convince him that it’s okay, that it’s fine. He can’t keep listening to you insisting that him almost killing you is no big deal. He should have known, should have been more aware of the risk instead of letting himself get lost in the blissful sensation of your body curled around his every night. You’ve trusted him so completely, only for him to let you down. 
Just like he always does, the voice in his head whispers.
No matter how many times you swear that you can take care of yourself, he should still be protecting you, not actively putting you in danger while you’re fucking asleep. It’s happened once now, so it can happen again, and he knows that he could never forgive himself. 
He knows that he’s hurting your feelings. Sees how your brows knit together when he barely kisses you back throughout the day. How you bite your lip when the way you’re butting your head against his doesn’t make him chuckle like it usually does. 
He should be angry at himself. He is. But you shouldn’t be the one to catch the brunt of it, and it makes him feel even worse. You always say that he should talk about his feelings more, that it would help to let them out. He suspects that you’re right. He just doesn’t know how.
By evening, you’ve grown uncharacteristically quiet, but he keeps catching your burning glares at him when you think he isn’t looking. Finally, after you’ve stared at him for what felt like an eternity and he’s pointedly ignored you, you seem to snap.
“Can you stop it?!” It leaves your mouth in a hiss, triggering his instincts before the words even register in his brain. 
“Stop what?” he growls back. 
Your fingers curl as a low snarl escapes you. Normally, neither of you lets your animalistic side take over like that. Normally, you’re good at soothing each other. 
But tonight, he can feel the energy crackle between you, the tension begging to be released. 
“You know what! This fucking— sulking or whatever it is you think you’re doing!” 
He rises to his feet, pulling up to his full height. One of your hands twitches. 
“I’m not—” 
You charge at him with an angry shout before another word can leave his mouth. You’re on him in a flash, grabbing onto his arm and letting your momentum carry you until you’re behind him, your nails digging into his shoulders until you’re perched on his backside. 
Whipping his head around, he bares his teeth at you, growls rumbling in his chest. You angrily hiss in his face and swing a hand at him in return, leaving angry red scratches down his cheek. They heal and fade as quickly as they came, but a triumphant grin flashes over your features regardless. 
“Come on, Logan,” you breathe into his ear. The edge in your voice sends fire straight through him. “Fight. You’re not gonna break me.” Your canines nip at his earlobe, somewhere between affectionate and challenging.
He tries shaking you off, but your grip on him only tightens. He collects a fist of your hair instead, pulling harshly to keep your teeth away from his throat. 
“Enough,” he grits, trying desperately to regain control, to become more human again, to smother the primal need to match your aggression. 
He finally grabs hold of one of your hands as well and manages to rip you off his back and in front of him, holding on tight to your upper arms to keep you in place. You’re snarling and twisting in his hold, but he doesn’t let up. 
“Enough,” he repeats, searching your wild eyes. Your movements slow down a fraction, giving him a moment of hope, before you surge forward and bury your teeth in his lower lip. It hurts like hell and he can taste blood on his tongue instantly. 
“Fight me,” you demand again, baring your teeth at him.
He pulls you back by your hair with a roar, gathers both your wrists in one large hand and holds you steady. You could still break free if you wanted to, he thinks. He might be stronger than you, but your movements turn almost liquid when you want to escape, he’s watched it more than once. 
The pain in his lip has already subsided, but his blood is still coating your mouth, a stark contrast against the white shimmer of your teeth. 
“Are you done?” His voice is harsh, his jaw clenched, carefully keeping the desire to strike back at bay. 
You deflate a little, some of the wildness draining from you before his eyes. 
“I just— I’m not fragile, I don’t want you to be scared of— of touching me.” Your voice grows small at the end and he’s horrified to see wetness glistening in your eyes. 
The fight mode leaves him as fast as it came, replaced with the overwhelming urge to care, to protect what’s his. His pack, in a way.  
He gathers you into his arms, curling himself around you. It feels good to hold you close again. Breathing you in deeply, he smells the adrenaline still oozing from you, hears the rapid beating of your heart. But mostly, it’s your unique scent, one that he thinks he could recognize anywhere. His tether to this world. 
“I’m sorry, kitten. I’m not scared of touching you,” he mumbles into your hair. 
You sniffle against his chest, but when you finally raise your head to look at him, new determination is glinting in your eyes. 
“Prove it,” you coo, tracing the shape of his lips with one fingertip. “Please.” 
That he can do. He nips at your finger playfully, your responding giggle the best sound he’s heard all day, before he shoves it out of the way to connect his lips with yours. It’s rough, a clashing of teeth and tongues, the tension that has been building and warping all day finally finding a release. 
You gasp into his mouth when his tongue moves against yours, your hands pulling at his hair, needing him closer and closer still, never close enough. His groan at the taste of you travels through you both as he’s grasping at your clothes. 
He longs for your warm skin under his palms, longs for how you lean into his touch so needy all the damn time. You pull away with a moan, helping him to pull your sweater over your head and stepping out of your jeans as he sheds his flannel. 
You bring both hands up to cup his face, to search his eyes. “Don’t be gentle,” you plead, “please, I need—” 
You don’t have to keep talking for him to understand what you need. I’m not scared of touching you. 
With a growl, his hands find your hips, holding you tight as he’s walking you backwards until your ass connects with the backside of the couch. He crowds you in, paws at every inch of bare skin he can reach, his cock already hard and aching at your soft warmth and the sweet mewls that tumble from your lips. 
Hitching one of your legs up to open you for him, he grinds himself against your barely covered center. A keening sound escapes you at the friction from his jeans against your sensitive flesh and he allows himself a grin. 
“Feels good, kitten?” 
You nod mindlessly, holding onto him and rocking your hips against his while you’re letting him move you however he sees fit. 
“Do you want more?”
“Please, Logan.”
You sound so sweet when you’re like this, when you put your body into his hands. I’m not scared of touching you.
Setting your leg back down, he watches with hunger as you hastily take off your underwear while he pulls the white tank top over his head and opens his belt buckle. He could swear that your pupils dilate a fraction at the sound of it, filling him with a possessive sense of pride. 
As soon as his jeans hit the floor, he’s all over you again, palming the weight of your breasts, tugging and pinching at your nipples as he swallows down your mewls. You’re soaking wet already, covering his cock in your slick as he nudges against your folds. He’s impatient to feel you all around him, to sink into you, to stake his claim again and again and again. 
He normally works you open longer, gives you more time to prepare, but your impatience is just as apparent as his own, with the way you whine and plead for him, your fingers digging into his flesh, trying to pull him nearer. 
He follows your pull, pressing your backside into the couch once more as he crowds your space. Leaning in, he kisses you deeply, licking into your mouth, one hand buried in your hair and holding you close. 
“I love you,” he breathes against your lips as he lets go of you. I’m not scared of touching you.
You smile softly, echoing the sentiment back at him. 
A surprised squeak escapes you when he turns you around suddenly, bending you over the back of the couch. He lines himself up at your dripping entrance, desperate to fill you up, to give you what you’re craving. 
“Not gentle?” he rasps once more, one hand curling around your neck from behind, both in reassurance and dominance. 
“Not gentle,” comes your breathy answer. It breaks off into a shriek of a moan when he slams into you with one long thrust, stretching your tight walls around his length. The sting of his sudden intrusion has to hurt at least a little, but you push back against him eagerly, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. 
Logan holds himself still for a moment, mesmerized by the sight of your squirming body and your needy little sounds, before he pulls out almost entirely, only to push back in forcefully. Your toes barely reach the floor with how far he’s bent you over, lifting you into the air with every harsh thrust, but he’s holding you steady with ease, both hands possessively spanning over your waist, positioning you exactly where he wants you. 
“Taking me so fucking well, like you were made for me,” he growls, gently scratching over your back with his nails. You arch up to chase his touch, tightening around him, almost purring with pleasure. Wetness pours out of you, coating his cock. I’m not scared of touching you. Not when it feels this good. 
“M–more, please,” you whine, blindly reaching backwards to him. 
He leans over you, cages you in, his arms on either side of you, his breath hot against your skin. His teeth sink into the back of your neck, not so deep as to draw blood, but enough that he knows the indents will stay there for quite some time. 
Your whole body goes limp at the sensation, a surprised mewl escaping you as you clench around him wildly. 
“Fuck,” he breathes, his own hips stuttering, “give it to me kitten, come on—” 
He reaches around your hip, fingers teasing through your slick folds and up to your clit, rubbing with slight pressure as he keeps pistoning into your heat. 
“Logan—” you gasp, getting almost impossibly tight, before you shatter around him. He keeps thrusting into you, keeps up his ministrations on your clit, until the pulsing of your cunt around him sends him over the edge as well. He spills his release deep inside of you, the thought of leaving a part of him with you always filling him with a primal satisfaction. 
Pulling you up instantly, he gathers you in his arms, your body soft and pliant against his chest. Walking around the couch and sinking into the cushions to lie down, he gently moves you until your weight is resting on top of him, his embrace wrapping around you.
You stir a little, needing a moment to take in your position. The look of uncertainty that you give him damn near breaks his heart. “Is this okay?” You sound uncertain, too.
God, he’s such an idiot. 
“Yeah, kitten. It’s— fuck, of course it’s okay.”
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thank you so so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed, and if you did, a comment or a reblog would absolutely make my day :)
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accioscarheadthings · 2 months
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Oooo Kenji Sato x a curvy girlfriend please? I wanna see how emi and kenji are upset and “arguing” who’s turn to cuddle the reader while she and professor Sato are eating snacks
heree youu go, hon. sorry abt the wait. enjoyy<33
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She's mine
kenji sato x curvy!fem!reader
this contains: fluff, cuddling, silly banters.
summary: kenji amd emi quarrel for your attention.
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masterlist !
"you think they'd stop this nonsense anytime soon?" professor sato asked you, pushing the box of donuts towards you.
you picked one with the strawberry filling, "highly unlikely," you bit into it, watching the drama unfold in front of you with professor sato.
kenji and emi arguing by the workplace, voices raised and hands moving around exaggeratedly.
kenji's finger was pointed directly at emi as she adamantly flailed her arms in response. her face was drawn down in distress, clearly feeling frustrated and unheeded by his stern demeanor.
"you had her last week!" kenji argued, "now, it's my turn,"
emi squealed in protest, flopping down on the ground with a cry.
"oh really? you think you can have her by throwing a fit?! not gonna happen, princess,"
you rolled your eyes at the scene, lips tugging upwards in amusement.
"no can do, missy!" kenji hollered at the kaiju baby, "she's mine. i got her first! you came around like what, a few weeks ago?" he pretended to think, "get in line, young woman!" he jabbed a thumb behind his back.
growling in frustration, emi sent a ray of sound waves his way. kenji barely dodged it at the nick of time, gaping up at emi. at the nerve to do so.
"this is so stupid," you face-palmed, sliding off the chair from professor sato's side and headed towards the children's quarrel.
"okay kids," you got in between them, speaking sternly, "mommy's here. behave yourself-" you yelped when you were pulled into kenji's arms, made to stand in front of him.
emi pouted, making grabby hands at you, cooing in need.
kenji pulled you into him in such a way your back was flush with his chest, "i don't even need to argue or explain myself to you whatsoever, emi," his palms splayed on your love handles, holding you possessively, "she's mine," he kissed your neck possessively, making your squirm in place, his fingers curling on your soft skin of your stomach.
emi's cheeks wobbled her and shoulders sagged in defeat, assuming you had picked him over her.
her cheeks wobbled and emi wailed loudly, kicking her legs on front of her.
he scoffed at her, "you think she's gonna coddle you- honey, don't coddle her," kenji uttered to you when you slipped out of his arms and headed towards emi.
you strode towards her, climbing the high-rise stool and sat cross-legged on it, "my poor baby, c'mere," you cooed at her, stretching your arms put in front of you, "s'okay, my love,"
"i thought i was your love," kenji mumbled lowly, ducking his head. but you heard it.
you shot him a stern glare that spoke 'not now, kenji,"
your boyfriend groaned loudly, stomping over to his father's side and sat on your seat. he grabbed a donut, stuffing his face to cope up with the annoyance that was bubbling in him.
"shh, shh, i'm right here," you hands spread on her cheeks when she leaned towards you. you pressed a loud smooch to her orange beak, making her sobs stop instantly.
kenji rolled his eyes, "cheap trick-ow!"
professor sato hit his son at the back of his son with his cane, "get it together!"
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you had cuddled emi to sleep, her arm slung over your lap. you brushed your palms on her round cheeks to ease her into sleep.
you carefully slipped out, heading towards the corner of the basement where kenji was making his daily coffee.
he heard you approach and looked at you over his shoulder, letting out a sigh of relief, "can i have you to myself now?"
you gave him a nose-scrunched smile, arms held wide for him.
kenji rushed into your awaiting arms, pulling you into him. his face burying into the crook of your neck, "finally, all mine,"
you slipped your hands into the hair at the back of his neck, "you need to grow up,"
you stilled when you felt him kiss your jaw, muttering desperately, "missed you so much, baby. you have no idea," he huffed into your chest like a needy child, clinging onto you.
he sat on the couch behind, pulling you on his lap. his hands were at the back of your thighs, making you straddle him.
his fingers squeezed your thighs, as though to make sure you were actually with him
"kenji...?" you rested your hands on his shoulders, your tone questioning.
"shush, sweetheart," kenji silenced you with a kiss to your lips. your chest against his, both hearts beating in sync, "you're not going anywhere. and m'not gonna lose you to a kaiju baby, for god sakes,"
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meownotgood · 1 year
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quiet dream. / dan heng x reader, 18+, smut, reader is fem bodied, grinding, thigh-fucking, fingering, creampie, soft dan heng, reader is super needy, dan heng offers to help when you can't sleep. word count: 4.7k
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You can't sleep. 
It's a realization you've slowly come to after waking up in the middle of the night several times in a row, but it really starts to hit you like a truck after the fourth. This time, you don't even bother to try and close your eyes again. You just sigh, twist onto your back, and stare begrudgingly at the shadows on the ceiling. 
You want to get some rest, you really do. You know you're going to need it. You can't let exhaustion affect your performance on such a difficult and important mission. But no matter how hard you try, it's damn near impossible to sleep when every time you start to drift off, you get interrupted by dark visions and terrible nightmares and loud voices you don't recognize echoing inside your head. 
It's been plaguing you ever since you first set foot in Belobog. You were almost starting to think you were losing it. Perhaps this hotel is cursed. Or maybe not, since none of your comrades seem to be suffering from the same fate. 
You stumbled out of your room and saw your teammates already waiting for you in the hall. March chuckles and tells you she had a nice dream about making snow angels with Pom Pom. Dan Heng doesn't look up from his phone as he answers, I didn't have any dreams. 
So it's just you. 
At this point, you've tried absolutely everything — you've made yourself comfortable in every position you can think of, you've got up and paced around hoping it'd relieve some of your energy, you've tossed and turned and yet still, nothing has helped. No, no, you can't take this, you have to do something. When your missions are only getting more and more difficult, you're going to need all the energy you can get. You can't go another night without sleeping. 
Your brain spins with ideas of possible solutions. You can't get any medicine, it's way past the time for any stores to be open. Can't get any food or something to drink either. You don't feel like bothering March 7th, she'll just babble on and on and keep you up even further. Sitting here alone in silence though, with nothing but the idle hum of the passing train cars to keep you company does nothing but make your insomnia worse. 
When it comes down to it, there's only one last idea you can think of. 
You fling the covers away from your face and sit up to plant both your feet on the ground. You open the door to your room as slowly as you can to keep it from creaking, and you carefully make your way down the hall, rounding the corner, to the first room on your left. Sucking in a nervous breath, you raise your knuckle and knock, but when there's no response after a few seconds, you twist the doorknob and invite yourself inside. 
The blankets shuffle and Dan Heng lifts his head immediately, hair messy and eyes squinted as they adjust to the sudden flood of light. He seems to relax, tense shoulders slumping once he realizes it's only you. 
"What happened?" His voice is rough and laced with tiredness, but he's sitting up further, and he's getting right to the point, "Are you okay?" 
"Nothing, I'm fine. Relax." You raise your hands defensively and gently close the door behind you with your heel. It clicks shut. "I can't sleep, so I figured I'd stay with you for a bit. If that's okay." 
Dan Heng eyes you up and down, considering, before he flops back onto the bed with a quiet sigh, the mattress bouncing from the sudden weight. 
"Sorry, I'll leave if you want me to." 
"No," He retorts sternly, shaking his head, his response catching you a little off guard. Is he really okay with this? 
Much to your surprise, he continues, "It's fine, I understand. Here." Then, he shifts, turning over and onto his side to make some space next to him. "You can sleep with me if you think it'll help." 
Quickly, without giving him a chance to change his mind, you make your way over, and Dan Heng lifts the covers so you can crawl in. You aren't used to seeing him like this; his hair all ruffled, his clothes casual, just a blank t-shirt and sweats. When you settle in and he leans his head onto the fluffy white pillow, you swear you catch him trying to stifle a yawn. 
Honestly, you really didn't expect him to let you in so easily, either. You haven't known him for very long, but you're somewhat familiar with each other, to the point you'd consider him your friend, but Dan Heng's a private sort of person. He's a bit stiff, a bit hard to talk with — You like him, you really do. You like those parts of him. You like the way he's serious and smart and strong, how he's much kinder than he appears. 
You like the way his nose scrunches when he's focused on something. You like how he cares for you awkwardly but earnestly, slipping his jacket off of his arms and draping it over your shoulders when you first arrived to Jarilo-VI and said you felt cold. He cleared his throat and glanced away, muttering something half-hearted like, Just thank me later. 
The thing is, despite all that, despite everything he's done for you, you can't seem to figure out the way he feels. Dan Heng is the most impossible person you think has ever existed. 
And right now, even though he's invited you to come lay next to him, you still can't decide, and your brain is a little too scrambled to really start thinking about it. 
He's already shut his eyes again, his face is close, wisps of dark hair messy. His chest rises and falls, up and down. 
"Did I wake you up?" 
He cracks his eyes back open when he hears you speak once more. 
"Yes." Dan Heng answers bluntly, and if you weren't feeling so shitty right now you might've just chuckled. 
"Sorry." 
"Don't worry about it." The smallest specs of golden light cast from the street lamps outside reflect in his gaze. "I wasn't upset. I'm more concerned about you. Why can't you sleep?"
"Mmm," You look away, shrugging your shoulders, "Bad dreams." 
"Nightmares, huh?" 
Yeah, he'd surely know a thing or two about that. Though, strangely, he hasn't had any bad dreams since arriving in Belobog. Maybe it's because the plush hotel beds are way comfier than his little setup on the Astral Express, he figures. 
The exhaustion in your tone doesn't lie: "They've been happening ever since we got here. And it's not a regular thing, it's the first time I've had so many dreams like this and… they're relentless." 
If the room was a little less dim, and if you were paying just a little more attention, you might have caught the way Dan Heng's expression starts to soften. 
"I'm sorry. I wonder if there's a reason for it. Something with the environment here." He says. You let your eyes close at the sound of his voice. "I'll check the data bank tomorrow. I researched Jarilo-VI thoroughly before we came here, and I don't remember anything like that in any of the submissions, but… I suppose I might've missed it." 
You snuggle into the pillow, your body feels warm and light; Dan Heng's presence alone provides you with comfort, and you're already starting to drift off. You silently hope to yourself that this will be the last time, and then you murmur in response, "Dunno. I'm tired, you can tell me about it later." 
"Right." Dan Heng answers. "I'll see you in the morning. Goodnight." 
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Dan Heng is losing his mind. 
When you first stumbled into his room, he didn't think anything of it. He knows how difficult nightmares can be, especially the ones that seem to be affecting you. Until now, he's never seen you so troubled. He doesn't have a problem keeping you company — you'd do the same for him, and he knows that.
The first time, you managed to drift off for an hour or so. He stayed awake for a while to watch over you, and when you ended up waking up from another bad dream, Dan Heng slung an arm around you, he rubbed your back with his palm and tried to mutter something into your ear to help you fall asleep: some boring story he learned from the archives.
But you were quick to wake again. And again, and again. Nothing worked, trying his best to help you has only served to make him just as restless as you are, and right now you, you're just —
"Dan Heng, please." 
You say his name in a voice so pleading, so sweet and sugary it takes nearly everything he has to struggle to resist. A warm blaze of heat rushes to every corner of his face, his breath is hot and thick, the slightest bit shaky when it fans over the expanse of your neck. In your tossing and turning, you've chosen to face away from him now, with your back pressed deft to his chest. Dan Heng wonders how strongly you can feel the thudding of his heart. 
The proximity alone is enough to get his heart pounding — you're so warm, so close, he can't take it — but each and every word you say makes it so much worse, and you keep shifting back, you keep pressing into him and you just have to know what you're doing. 
"You're still awake." 
Dan Heng breathes the words into your ear, his voice as still as he can get it. Matter-of-fact, just an observation. Not acknowledging anything but not ignoring you either. Exactly as you'd expect him to respond. 
Softly, barely audible, you grumble back a simple response: "Yeah." 
"Get some rest."
You back up into him a bit more, your ass rubs against his groin, right there; you both sigh in unison, yours of relief, his more like exasperation. 
Dan Heng grips you hard, fingers curled into your side. "Stop it." 
"I can't, I can't fall asleep like this. You're so stubborn." You huff, and you sound honest with that, you're seemingly breathless already. 
It's half his fault this is happening. He'll take some of the blame. Perhaps he shouldn't have held you so close earlier. When your breathing got faster, when you hugged him tighter, maybe it was wrong of him to let his lips ghost over your neck, or his palms drift over your thighs. 
He wasn't trying to take things this far, he's never had any bad intentions. He's the one in the wrong for getting carried away. You were just so close, and Dan Heng hasn't been able to stop his heart from pounding for hours now. 
It wouldn't be the first time he's thought more with his heart than his brain. Stupid. 
He swallows the lump in his throat. "I'm sorry." 
He's realizing he's weaker than he thought he was, he's more obvious about his feelings for you than he intended. He has to be stubborn, but he's already failed, because you've gone and found him out. Now, you know. 
You know, because you're gripping his arm with an urgency, you're twisting around and forcing him to meet your desperate eyes while your free hand finds and fiddles with the loose drawstrings of his sweatpants. 
Dan Heng, please fuck me. 
God, how can you say that without even hesitating? His head is spinning. He feels dizzy, he feels like this isn't really happening.
"You're- that's enough." He presses his hand to your shoulder and shoves, but clearly with no force behind it. You don't budge. 
"How many more times?" Your warm fingers are working their way under the hem of his pants now, teasing his bare skin ever-so slightly, "How many more times do I have to ask?" 
How much longer, because you know he's going to give in. 
"I-" Dan Heng looks away, anywhere but where you're staring at him. He breathes a long, heavy sigh out from his mouth. There's an ache in his chest he can't possibly shake, and an even harder throb between his legs. 
He shouldn't. He really, really shouldn't. You don't have protection. You're not even dating. 
One hand twists up to hold the back of his neck, and when the other brushes down to squeeze the bulge of his stiffening cock through his sweats, Dan Heng starts to forget about all the things he'd better not do. 
He sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, and with eyes half-open, he looks towards you again, finally. "You think it'll help you sleep?" 
You nod, "Mhmm." 
"And you're okay with that? This is really what you want?" 
"Yes, it is, I'm sure," You say, you're starting to tug his sweats from his hips and his breath is hitching and stuttering in his throat, "I can't wait any longer. I need you." 
Dan Heng gives himself just one more moment to attempt to compose himself. Your thumbs brush the space just underneath his hip bones, and he takes an unconvincing deep breath in. Then, he's placing his hand on your chest and gently pushing you back; the hotel bed creaks, the mattress shifts and the sheets rustle as he slowly climbs on top of you. 
"Need is a strong word," Fingers grasped around the hem, he makes quick work of shedding his t-shirt. The crisp night air is colder than he thought. The dim light casts most of his face in shadow. "What's got you like this?" 
"You want it with me just as badly, don't you?" 
You've dodged the question. But you aren't wrong. 
"Just this once." Dan Heng affirms, "We won't bring it up again." 
One time. That'll be enough. If he's lucky, you'll save him the embarrassment and remember this as just another dream. 
When it comes to you, he's just too weak. 
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"Dan Heng-"
There it is again, you're saying his name in a tone reserved just for him — Dan Heng gasps, he fucks up into you a little harder, he rams right into your sweet spot and you grasp his forearm to steady yourself, his muscles firm when you squeeze. The sound of skin against skin along with the rhythmic creak of the bed echo around the walls of the small hotel room. Arm wrapped around your stomach, you're on your side, and his body curls around yours, his head leant on your shoulder, hand tightly gripping the fat of your thigh. 
Sweat coats his skin, his head feels hazy, thoughts dreamy. By now, he's come to lose any semblance of lucidity he once had, any hope of not taking things any further. But when he's buried all the way inside you, he's hardly even come to realize.
His voice feels sore and tired, but he still manages to mumble into your ear, "Say it again." 
And you do, you say his name once more, twice more. Dan Heng fucks his cock right into that perfect spot for the hundredth time and you're cooing each syllable for him even louder. 
"S-Shit, you-" He interrupts himself with a gasp for breath, "You feel so amazing, I'm- I can't," He never sounds like this, so needy and awestruck. A soft moan uttered right into the nape of your neck, then, "I'm gonna cum again." 
Your fingers clench the sheets tighter, your breath comes out in short pants, "Wanna hear you say my name too, Dan Heng-"
His arms are shaking, and once he teeters over the edge he's practically biting down on your shoulder to keep himself from getting too loud; he focuses less on hitting the right spot and more on getting off, his thrusts into you become sloppy and clumsy and erratic. As he cums, chanting your name with each fragile breath, he just barely manages to find a moment of clarity, slipping out to fist his cock and empty all over the sheets. 
His heart thuds incessantly in his ears, drowning out everything else. He's gasping, wiping his hand off on the sheet, resting his forehead onto your shoulder and swallowing to keep his throat from drying up. 
"You alright?" Of course, your well-being is the first thing Dan Heng is concerned about. 
"I'm fine," You answer immediately. 
Dan Heng stays quiet for a few agonizingly long seconds. Slowly, he guides his half-hard cock to your thighs, he slides it in between them and feels it start to throb and pulse with need again once you squirm, adjusting to give him more room to work with. 
Warm, you're so warm, he closes his eyes and thrusts forwards and he's already thinking about how it's going to feel so much better when he puts it back inside you. 
"Sorry, what am I doing?" Dan Heng suddenly freezes, rubbing his temple with his fingers. He's absolutely losing his mind. "I'll stop. I'll stop if you want me to." 
"Don't," You reply, and he finds it difficult to object, "I want to keep going, come here." 
You're twisting around then, pulling away from him and shifting onto your back, splaying your arms above your head and blinking away whatever exhaustion is starting to form behind your eyelids. Dan Heng is quick to follow suit, settling into his familiar spot on top of you. 
He raises his hand, and he lets his knuckles brush tenderly over the side of your cheek. "You sure? You're still not tired?" 
Your response comes in the form of a hasty shake of your head and an eager grab of his arm. 
It's been like this for hours now. Dan Heng gives you what you want, you're satisfied for a bit until you beg and coax him into giving you more. The faintest hints of sunlight are starting to creep past the curtains now, and as much as Dan Heng is trying to hold on to his sanity as best as he can, he's really starting to think he's past the point of no return. 
How is he supposed to face you tomorrow? Hell, tomorrow is already practically here, and yet he still can't stop. 
He keeps telling himself the two of you need to calm down — but as you're gripping his hand, as you're pressing his fingertips over your swollen clit, dragging them down and getting them nice and wet on your arousal, his heart is once again caught in his throat and all he can do is listen. 
Dan Heng's whole body shivers. He gives you exactly what you want; he sinks his fingers into you knuckle-deep, he pumps them in and out to a slow and careful rhythm, slick sounds ringing in his ears. 
"Dan-" 
He quirks his fingers up and presses them right where they belong, and you can't manage to get out the other half of his name. 
"More?" Like he already knows what you're going to say, he pulls his fingers out before he even sees you nod, just like that. 
His palms find your waist, he holds you with shaking hands as if you're delicate. Shiny, wet precum is already budding at his slit, and he aligns his hips to press the needy tip of his dick to your entrance. His bottom lip finds its way between his teeth as he's sliding in, just barely, stretching you with just the fat tip of his cock; the rest of him aches, his eyelids flutter and he groans, he can't move. He can't, or he already won't last. 
Please, Dan Heng. Put it in all the way. 
You're greedy, so ridiculously insatiable. He doesn't blame you though. He can't. 
Here you are, always so kind to him, always asking so nicely. Always saying please, always loyal, always sticking by his side. Begging for him, all for him. He'd be stupid not to give you everything — everything you ask for, and every last second in the stretch of this infinite universe. 
Because you're special to him. You mean more to him than he'd ever be able to admit. And after being cooped up in the Astral Express for so long, after so much running and running and never finding his place, after never having time for anything like this and never realizing how badly he needed it, he knows he's even worse. 
It fits in so easy when he finally slides all the way in, like he was meant to be there. He stays still at first, taking deep breaths, getting used to the feeling. He's sensitive, way too sensitive. He tries his best to ignore it and focus on you. He rolls his shoulders backwards, waits for the moment you start to impatiently squirm. And then, he pulls back only to press all the way in; he starts up a gentle rhythm, taking things slow, fucking you nice and softly. 
Even just his shallow thrusts feel heavenly. Your nerves feel like they're on fire, you're warm all over from head to toe. You're a second away from choking out a plea for him to go harder, but Dan Heng seems to read your mind before you've spoken a single word. 
You're pretty when you're underneath him, pretty face and pretty wide eyes locked onto his. It's a pretty sight each time he buries the length of his cock all the way inside you, shaft slick and wet and glistening when he pulls it out. You make the prettiest noises when he shoves in deep only to pull out and slam himself back inside, you've got the prettiest expression as he grips your legs and folds them up to fuck his dick into you even harder than before. 
You've always been pretty in his eyes. But more than anything, he wants to see how pretty you'll look when he makes you fall apart. 
"You're getting loud," He mumbles, in that matter-of-fact way you've come to expect. He doesn't slow down though, doesn't give you a moment to breathe; he squeezes your thighs and rubs them with his palms. "If we keep going like this- they'll hear. You know that?" 
"Don't care," You can barely get out the words, your back takes on a tell-tale arch, "Let them. Just don't stop." 
Dan Heng isn't sure how thin these walls are. But in hindsight, it might be too late. The thought makes him feel dirty. He should have considered quieting down a long time ago. 
Forehead to forehead with you, his pace speeds up a little, a tight knot forms in the pit of your stomach. His hair is a thick, tangled mess, even messier when you reach up to run your fingers through; you grasp and tug, sending waves down his spine, and Dan Heng can't help but whimper. He bucks into you hard, desperately, and you can't do anything but claw at his back, leaving scrapes and marks of red. 
He's panting, his face is inches away from yours; he can't take it anymore. He starts with a single quiet please, and when you cup his cheek in your hand he's sighing and stammering without even thinking, "Please I- please kiss me, please please please-"
You pull him closer, he tilts his head and you shut him up as your lips connect for the first time tonight — Dan Heng kisses you softly, his lips plush, his heart flutters and flips. His first kiss with you, and it's so much more desperate than he expected, but he needs this too badly to take things slow. Your lips part and he's groaning, licking into your mouth, sucking on your tongue. 
He takes the opportunity to grab your thigh, tossing your leg over his shoulder to give himself a better angle. He pistons in and out at a steady pace until you're about to snap, until everything else is melting away and you're focused on nothing but him. Until he gets carried away, the tip of his cock shoves in too deep, and you're tossing your head back, crying so loudly you're certain someone would hear. He feels so good you can't bother to care. 
"M'close," You're mumbling once he gives you a moment to breathe, dragging away from your lips to plant wet kisses onto your cheek, your jaw, your neck. Your fingertips drag along his back, you feel out the shape of his mismatched scars — you're whining even louder, begging for him to make you cum, and Dan Heng is really, really done for. 
He's thought himself to be somewhat of a strong person. Someone with a good resolve. Tonight, you're making him rethink everything. 
He's close too, movements getting sloppy, it's growing harder and harder for him to hold back how you make him feel. He's never felt like this, never been so desperate. Dan Heng's fingers twitch, he moans and wraps an arm around your back securely. He rests his head in your nape and sighs, breath warm and heavy on your skin. 
"I-" He hesitates, because even now, even after all this, he's nervous to speak; his chest heaves, his whole body's trembling. "I want to cum with you."
"Don't pull out, please Dan Heng, it feels so good, you're making me feel so good-" 
He shouldn't listen to you. But he will. And he won't even think twice. 
"Gonna cum," His shoulders tense, his voice nearly breaks, "F-Fuck, you're so sweet, I'm-" A stuttery whine, "I'm cumming, I'm cumming…" 
A few more sloppy thrusts and you're both done for. Wet sounds fill your ears, Dan Heng reaches up with an unsteady hand and grips the headboard to keep himself steady. When you cum, clenching hard and throbbing around his cock, chanting his name just as he hoped you would, Dan Heng has little pent-up tears forming in the corners of his eyes, he hastily covers your mouth with his free hand, your noises muffled on his palm. He's riding his high out with you and fucking you through it all, biting hard on his bottom lip to stay quiet, shamelessly spilling every drop of his spend inside. 
It takes a while for him to finally slow down, for his vision to unblur. He nearly collapses on top of you, and it takes him even longer to work up the strength to pull out. 
The early-morning sun shines even brighter through the curtains. His fingers slip over your cheek, they fiddle idly with your ear. He kisses your lips once before finally settling, rolling over next to you with his eyes already closed. 
"Dan Heng." 
He was hoping you'd managed to fall asleep, finally. He gives himself a second to regain some energy, and then with a huff, he lifts his head and props himself up on his elbows, meeting your eyes. 
"I don't want this to end." 
Your words catch him by surprise. Your genuine expression does even more so. 
"It won't," He concludes, earnest as ever. Your hands are splayed out above your head, clenching and unclenching, and he grips one to give you something to hold onto. "I'm not going anywhere. And I won't forget about this, or about you. I'll be here when you get up, do you think you can try and get some rest now? It's late." 
It's early, more so. 
You offer him a shallow nod in response, and Dan Heng wastes no time fluffing your pillow, pulling the covers over you, and giving you some space to curl up. He doesn't bother to find your clothes, he just tucks the blankets in around you and hopes that'll suffice for now. 
"I…" He gets comfy next to you, resting his head on his arm. "I don't want this to end either. I don't. I didn't even think it was happening for a while. I think… I think we should focus on our mission. We can't afford to get distracted. But when we're back on the Astral Express- Once we've got more time on our hands, we can talk about this. How's that?" 
You don't answer. He takes a few moments to realize you've stilled, your chest calmly rising and falling. 
"Are you asleep?" 
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2K notes · View notes
wosoragebaiter69 · 9 months
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you don’t have to be perfect
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barça fem x teen!reader, lucy bronze x teen!reader
request: here
A/N: also i would just like to say, if anyone has any feedback for my writing it’s greatly appreciated cuz i’m not the best writer ik that but i want to improve.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
It was apart of the contract I first signed with Barcelona that I continue my studies and finish school. Not ideal, but I get by with around 80% and sitting on a B for most my classes. What I didn’t factor in was the amount of stress I would have on top of the League and UWCL games when exams and assignments from 6 different classes were coming up. That’s hard on a 17 year old.
I felt myself start to drift away from everyone in the 2 weeks before mayhem. First it was denying to go out with the younger girls like Salma and Vicky, both of whom understood. Vicky being the same age as me and Salma only 2 years older than us. Then as expectations rose, classes became longer and filled extra information. All the time I wasn't on the pitch, I was studying. Or sleeping. (we dont talk about how even thats being cut down to maximum 5 hours a night).
Living with Lucy meant that she was bound to catch on to what was happening. It was inevitable. She took me under her wing when I first arrived along with some of the older girls and since I don’t speak Spanish natively, I was told to go with Lucy who was told to keep an eye on me. It’s nice, when you don’t want her to worry about how you’re ignoring everyone and have bags under your eyes whenever she sees you. She really does try her hardest to get me to do anything that’s not over analysing and over-studying the numerous topics, but no matter how much it pains me. I always turn her down.
After another night of studying until 2am, there’s an early morning training session and I know I’ve only gotten 4 hours of sleep. If I told the medical staff I’m sure they’d pale.
I’m aware that I probably look like death walking, but it doesn’t bother me. If I pass with above average grades, I’m happy and I know my actual parents will be too. I ignore the concerned looks that Irene and Alexia give Lucy, and get changed ready for the training session.
It’s gruelling, the lack of sleep from the past 2 weeks has finally started to catch up. When I least needed it to. Maybe I am working too hard. It’s too late for that though. I know I’m being watched by the captains, acting for a little bit longer won’t do much harm. Can it?
When the third water break rolls around, I sit on the floor and flop onto my back, closing my eyes. Too tired in the moment to do anything other than breathe. The sunshine above me dulls as Lucy and Alexia stare down at me. When I open my eyes. My captain has a raised brow, while my roommate has her arms crossed.
“Y/N, get up please. Now.” It’s Lucy who speaks first. I don’t give in. What’s their problem?
“No. I am fine where I am thank you very much.” I bite back. Lucy looks like she’s trying to hold herself together and Alexia looks furious. Unconsciously, I sink into myself hoping the ground could swallow me up.
“Nena, we won’t ask again.” The spaniard says, her voice low as she sticks out her hand.
I reluctantly take it, pulling myself up and staring at the two in front of me.
“Come.” Alexia says blankly, leaving no room for argument before walking toward the main building. I sigh, doing as she says or I know I won’t hear the end of it. Lucy trails just behind me, her jaw set and making sure I don’t run away.
When inside I’m placed on a couch, wishing and praying to any extra-terrestrial being that I can leave this confrontation. What is it even about? Why am I here? I’ve done nothing wrong.
“So, we noticed you’ve been pushing people out. You also look dead.” Classic Alexia, straight to the point.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I look away.
“Really? Because when I go to bed, which is around midnight and sometimes 1 if I’m doing other work. Your light is always on. You better fess up now before we make you do extra laps, and clear all the equipment from training.” It’s Lucy this time, starring daggers into me. Still, I don’t let up.
“Maybe I left the light on.” I shrug. “And why do we have to do this right now? I have 2 exams tomorrow. So, if I may. Let’s finish training so I can get to study and do other things.”
“This is exactly what I’m talking about Y/N. You’re deflecting absolutely everything we say. You’re not taking the information in. I get you’re stressed but that doesn’t mean you isolate yourself.” She pauses, sighing deeply. “We are going home right now. You will not touch your school work, this has gone on for long enough. I know Alexia agrees with me.”
“Before you argue, just think. Is this really the best way I could’ve prepared? Yes nail in, do the study for good results. But also remember to utilise the support system you have, the team, the coaches, take a break.” By the end of the rant I feel tears well in my eyes. I feel someone hug me and I can tell who it is by the obscurely large hands.
“Nena, go home with Lucy. Get some rest, and not only will you feel better but it gives your brain a break. When the week is over we can talk more but for now go.” The Catalan smiles warmly. I nod my head saying thanks before walking with Lucy to the car.
“Do you feel alright? You do look very pale.” She places her hands against my face and frowns. “No temperature. I’ll get some food into you and we’ll have a rest day. Just us.” I nod slowly staring out of the window as my mind races.
When we get to the apartment, no conversation is made and I immediately go and take a shower. It’s there that I cry and let all my frustrations out, the stress finally taking its toll on my mind.
When I’m dressed and ready I walk out to the smell of pancakes and Lucy sitting on the couch with Narla next to her. She hears me and turns her head around, eyebrows furrowing at the state I’m in.
She pats the open spot next to her which isn’t taken by the Westie and hands me a plate, which I accept gratefully.
It’s a comfortable silence, but I know she’s waiting for me to say anything. And this time, I do.
“I’m sorry Luce.” My voice is quiet and more high pitched compared to what it normally sounds like.
She smiles lightly.
“Hey, these things happen. You’re smart, just as Alexia said give your mind a rest and you’ll do better. Myself, Keira, the rest of the team only want the best for you and your well-being. Let’s not talk about this now, take it step by step. You’ll be ok.” I nod wiping freshly formed tears as she pulls me into a big hug, giving the rest of her pancake to Narla who eats it happily.
- - - - -
And ok it would be. I end up playing Fifa with Lucy the rest of the day before eventually falling asleep against her. As for the exams, I pass by with good grades and after everything’s done the team takes me out to a restaurant to celebrate. As much as I deny it, this team is the most important thing to me. I love and adore them all so much.
474 notes · View notes
cheegu3 · 6 months
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Door Lock
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pairing; f.m reader x jungkook (ft. ryujin from itzy) genre; yandere, thriller, guessing game summary; ever since you had an encounter with a creepy man at your job, you started waking up feeling like things were off, after some time you start suspecting that you're not alone at night in your apartment, but the man from your job isn't the only one with questionable motives, can you guess who your stalker is? warnings; yandere themes, stalking, obsessive / unhealthy love, drugging, swearing, drinking, paranoia
wc; 6k note; based on the movie Door Lock (although not all events are exactly the same) - I wanted to try writing smth a little different than usual
'' Do you want me to walk you home? ''
'' Oh, come on! '' you sighed and rolled your eyes. '' I'm not a kid, my apartment's just around the corner. ''
Your friend, Ryujin, didn't look very happy with your answer. Her lips pursed, causing a dissatisfied look to form on her face. She crossed her arms and shook her head.
'' You're always so stubborn. ''
Ryujin only received a shrug in response as you had already started turning away from her, making up your mind a long time ago. She'd always say these things after the two of you had a late night out drinking.
And she'd always get turned down by her friend who thought she worried too much. Every time, you would arrive safely at your apartment, without anyone even following you or giving you a glance.
'' It went fine last week, Ryujin. Nothing will happen to me, it never does. ''
She scoffed dryly, '' I swear one day you're going to regret saying that, y/n. ''
'' Maybe, but not today! '' you cheerfully shouted to her when you had created some distance.
'' Text me when you get home at least! ''
You waved her off. The walk home was short because Ryujin always chose restaurants or bars near your apartment. It was around the corner and up the long stairs.
You always complained loudly about the stairs. Arriving home drenched in sweat and panting wasn't exactly ideal. But it was by far the least horrid thing about the route to your apartment.
The reason your friend was worried every time you walked home alone was mainly because the hill had no lights; it was pitch black, except for small splotches of light that came from the hill houses' outdoor lights.
It also had no CCTV so if anyone were to try something in the dark, no one would likely notice.
However, you had long accepted it. It was almost a given when the rent was so cheap, and you couldn't complain about the view. Since it was at the top of the hill, it faced downtown and often had beautiful sunsets.
On this night there wasn't a sunset in sight because it had long passed. The city was asleep, with only cicadas echoing up the hill.
About halfway up, you stopped to squint. Was that someone standing at the top? No - you must've imagined it.
You kept walking but occasionally glanced at the top from time to time. What you thought you saw had disappeared and when you finally reached the spot it was in, you were fully convinced your mind had played tricks on you.
The security guard greeted you when he saw you entering the building. You gave him a curt nod and hurried on, desperate to sleep in the comfort of your bed.
At your door, something felt off. Your eyebrows knit together as you crouched to look at the keypad. Had you really forgotten to close it this morning? You could've sworn you did.
You pressed the code and then wiped the screen with the sleeve of your shirt. It soon became forgotten when you stepped inside your apartment. The alcohol seemed to have clouded your mind on top of your senses.
With a yawn, you flopped down on the bed and fell fast asleep without changing, brushing your teeth, or getting under the covers.
You woke up with a terrible headache pounding your head. A groan slipped past your dry lips as you forced yourself to get up. Your whole world started spinning and you had to sit down to ground yourself.
Bile rose in your throat. You ran to the bathroom and managed to open the seat just in time for last night's pleasures to come out.
You felt confused again. Was it age that was starting to creep up on you? You didn't get hangovers very often, no matter how much you drank.
Resting against the tile wall behind, you let the cold cool your scorching skin. You knew you still had to go to work since you couldn't risk getting fired.
Slowly you peeled yourself off from the wall and started heading out after getting dressed. It was still relatively dark out, the winter sun rising on the horizon, but it was nowhere near as terrifying as when going home in the complete dark at night. That was a different type of darkness, a lonely one, which seemed to bring out the worst kinds of people lurking in the dark.
At work, your nice colleague greeted you with her usual cheery smile. She whispered that she had covered for you being late so no one had noticed.
With a grateful smile, you sat down in your spot and got ready to meet customers. Lately, you had noticed that your colleagues who were extra nice; smiling and almost touching the customers, would have more people go to their booths; so today, you were determined to put on your best fake polite smile and maybe you could get a permanent contract.
'' Number 29, please come to booth 4. ''
You saw a man stir in the crowd, hesitating, which made you internally sigh. You hadn't been very lucky with your booth number, that was yet another reason your performance always got criticized by your boss.
Sternly you leaned over the mic again, '' Number 29, please come forward. ''
The man finally gave up and walked over. When he sat down he looked both nervous and slightly uncomfortable. However, your warm smile made him loosen up.
'' Welcome. How can I help you today? ''
'' I would like to create an account. ''
You nodded and typed in the information. While working, you noticed his eyes on you, so you decided to strike up some small talk.
'' You live in Seongnam too? ''
The man's eyes widened, '' Yes...Do you live there? ''
'' I do, '' you chuckled, looking him right in the eyes now.
The intimate eye contact, coupled with your smile made him blush visibly. He looked away. Silence filled the space as you finished the last few things and showed him the screen. You gave him some necessary information, before handing him back his ID.
'' Maybe we can go out for coffee sometime? '' he mumbled after you were done talking and were ready to call the next customer.
He was handsome, there was no denying that, and he was definitely your type, with a bad boy appearance. He reminded you of your manager that you'd been crushing on and the cute new security guard at your apartment.
But it was unprofessional and you felt rather creeped out to be asked on a date at your job, especially in such an upfront way after you talked about where you lived.
'' Sorry, I can't do that. I'm working right now. ''
The man's smile faded, his eyes darkened and narrowed as he tilted his head, like he was unsure if he'd heard you correctly. '' I can take you out after. ''
Staring at him speechless, you wondered if the shy act he'd put on earlier was just that - an act. The man in front of you now didn't show any signs of being shy, quiet, nervous, or polite. He screamed of danger.
'' I- ''
'' You fucking whore! '' he cut you off screaming and catching the attention of everyone in the bank.
'' You flirted with me first, '' he started to his feet and began banging on the protective shield.
You jumped back, heart in your throat as you stammered. You couldn't get out a single word.
He tried reaching his arm in through the small gap and managed to pull you towards the shield. A scream ripped from your throat.
'' Security! '' you heard your manager shout.
You felt your arm be released just a few seconds later and you pulled away, breathing heavily. Even as he was being escorted away he kept screaming the same things, and creepily never taking his eyes off of you.
Red marks had formed where you were grabbed and you groaned when rubbing them. In the corner of your eye, you saw your manager approach so you quickly tried putting your arm under the table.
He saw it and grabbed it before you could do so. With a disappointed tick of his tongue, he inspected it and then freed you.
'' What a crazy asshole. ''
The shock had slowly started dissipating, '' Thank you. ''
'' No need to thank me, just call on me whenever you need. ''
You smiled awkwardly and bowed. Your manager left and the rest of the day went smooth sailing. Midday, you went for lunch with your coworker and Ryujin but you had a strange feeling in your stomach, like you were being watched.
It gnawed inside you, making it impossible to eat again. You put down your chopsticks and went back to work. Thankfully, after that, the thought was forced to the back of your mind due to how busy it was. You were pretty successful during the afternoon; making many customers satisfied as well as your boss, so you walked out at the end of the day with a small smile playing on your lips, despite the incident during the early hours.
'' Hey. ''
You froze in your steps. That voice, it sounded a lot like the man from before. You turned around very slowly, praying that you'd been mistaken.
The color drained off of your face when you faced him, it had been like you thought. The man from earlier was standing there, leaning back against the bus stop with a shit-eating grin on his face.
'' You have no idea how long I've waited for you. ''
Words got stuck in your dry throat. Your eyes started searching for help, but no one was around. Meanwhile, you could see how the man had started stalking towards you.
'' Why aren't you responding? You rude bit- ''
His hand caught your wrist in that painfully strong grip again and you yelped, flinging your arms around to escape him which had no effect at all; he just pulled you towards him, whipped you around, and hugged you from behind.
Suddenly, the grip loosened and you were pushed out of the way, almost knocking you over. You raised your head slowly.
The man was caught in a chokehold by your manager and couldn't get a word out, despite trying very hard to when he saw you move in the background.
You stared back at him, but after a few seconds, your eyes started flicking towards your manager's back instead. The man seemed to be losing consciousness and you started to feel anxious; this much violence wasn't necessary at all.
Without a word, you pulled your manager's hands away from the man who fell to the ground clutching his throat and coughing weakly.
'' I'm okay, '' you blurted out when he turned to you with a puzzled, almost angry look.
His frown disappeared and he seemingly accepted your answer. You let yourself be led towards his car and got in as you felt like your manager was someone you could trust. He had saved you twice now after all.
The whole ride, he talked about self-defense techniques; urging you to go to classes in the city and telling you about different weapons you could use. He also told you firmly that he'd file a police report for harassment and stalking since it was his job as a manager to keep his employees safe.
You only half-heartedly listened, feeling more zoned out the closer you got to the apartment building. The long day had made you incredibly tired, causing you to look forward to just going to sleep.
'' Take this, '' he concluded the rant right when the car pulled into the parking lot.
'' What is it? ''
'' It's a small pocket knife. ''
You frowned, '' That's illegal. ''
'' So? You'll be sorry if you get attacked and don't have it. ''
You hesitated for another moment. He grabbed your wrist and put it into your hand, closing it as if to say there'd be no further protest about the matter.
With a sigh, you gave up. Your manager parked the car and stepped out at the same time you did. He watched you as you went towards the entrance with one hand propped up on the roof of the car.
'' Do you need a ride tomorrow? ''
'' I'll be fine. Thank you, again, for- everything. ''
'' No problem, always glad to help. ''
And with that, he got back in the car and started it just as you opened the entrance door. You basked in the warmth that embraced you as soon as you entered the lobby.
The security guard who usually sat at the desk was nowhere to be seen. A smile shot to your lips. He was probably carrying up packages for the residents again, even though he wasn't allowed up there.
You glanced at his desk and something caught your attention. A very large package sat right on the edge of it, looking homemade with its messy taping and rough surface.
It intrigued you so you got closer. Your hand brushed along the material, eyes following it up all the way to the top where a small, white, paper square had been taped on.
' For: y/n '
You let out a small gasp. There was nothing else on the note, no other name or even address. Whoever sent it must've gone straight here instead of sending it through the mail.
With shaky hands, you used a cardboard knife cutter that was on the desk to cut the package open. Inside you saw a lone, small teddy bear. It was new, untouched, and had perfectly spot-free white fur.
You noticed it was holding a broken heart and it had a gloomy, melancholy expression on its face. While shoving your hand in to try and find if there was anything under the styrofoam, a sudden sound behind you made you jump.
'' Hey. ''
Recognizing the voice and placing it as belonging to the security guard, you visibly relaxed and turned around to face him.
'' You scared me. ''
'' Sorry about that. Ah, '' his eyes shifted to the package. '' you've opened it already. What was in it? ''
You waved the teddy bear in the air. '' Not much. Did you see who dropped it off? ''
'' It was just a regular delivery driver. He told me he'd been given it by some man the day before. ''
'' That's weird, '' you trailed off, mind already trying to come up with possible suspects.
For some reason, the dark staircase intruded your thoughts and in an instant, your focus shifted. Slowly your feet moved on their own until you were outside the building again.
The wind kissed your cheek and went past you, swirling down the steps. Your head turned with it. Just like the day before, it was dark, with only the scarce, dimly lit lamps illuminating spots here and there.
You weren't sure why you came out here. Had you expected to somehow spot the perpetrator in the dark, lurking while waiting for your reaction to opening the package?
One thing was for sure though, the gut feeling from before returned once again when you were at the staircase. That ominous, unexplainable feeling, of being watched.
The chill in the wind made you get back in as goosebumps littered your skin.
'' Did you see someone? ''
'' No, it's just...nothing. ''
You didn't feel like you were in the mood to explain and the security guard was thankfully exceptionally good at reading people, so he only smiled and bid goodnight.
In the dark of your own apartment, you lay for only a few minutes, aimlessly staring into the ceiling before it was interrupted by a rapt knock on your door. The sleepiness from before had disappeared since the new mystery had almost put you in a vigilant and paranoid state so you sprung up on your feet and opened it without any hesitation.
'' Sorry. You forgot this, '' it was your manager again, waving your wallet in the air.
'' Oh my god, I'm sorry. I feel like a burden now. ''
He laughed, '' It's fine. I noticed it almost right away. ''
You still felt bad even though he shook it off. Maybe you could invite him inside and offer tea or coffee for politeness; it was something you'd always seen your mom do when work on the house took a lot longer and the servicemen looked tired.
'' Would you like to come inside for a moment? I have coffee and tea. ''
'' I think I can spare a few minutes tea would be nice, '' he said, flashing a charming smile.
You returned it and then stepped aside so he could come in. He took a seat at your table next while you put the kettle on. An attempt at small talk was then made after silence briefly filled the space.
'' That guy will be banned from the bank, I'll see to it myself. You'll never have to worry about him again. ''
You sighed, '' Thank you, I don't know how I could ever pay you back, sir. ''
His eyes twinkled. Standing up he approached the door to the bathroom and pointed to it.
'' Can I use your bathroom? ''
'' Of course. ''
You went over to the kettle to see if it was almost ready. The sound of its hissing filled your ears. He took a long time in there and gave you room for your mind to wander off again.
He had found you quite quickly after you dropped your wallet and left the car. You stared at the door. Just as the door lock to the bathroom clicked, another thought struck you, this one much worse - How did he know where you lived?
Click
The door pushed open dramatically slow. Your manager stepped out and immediately locked eyes with you, he must've sensed something was wrong because he frowned.
His lips separated, but no words came out. He was left standing there, baffled, when you sprinted out of the apartment. You didn't stop until you reached the front desk.
'' Please call the police! ''
The security guard was startled by your entrance and jumped on his feet. '' What! Why? ''
'' My stalker is here, '' you waved your hands around, '' The one who gave me that package. ''
Things seemed to click in his head. He didn't question you further, instead calling the police and pulling you towards him protectively while you waited.
They arrived a lot quicker than you'd anticipated, which meant that only a few minutes had passed when your manager made his way downstairs after the shock had settled.
'' Why did you run? '' he questioned you.
You didn't answer and turned your head as if he was invisible. The security guard placed himself between you and your manager while the police led him out. He hadn't even been surprised they got called, it was like he was expecting them. You watched as they drove away with him in the back and sighed in relief.
'' Finally '' you mumbled to yourself, '' It's over. ''
The security guard smiled warmly at you which reminded you that you needed to thank him for his kindness.
'' I don't know how I could ever repay you for everything you've done for me. ''
He laughed, '' Don't worry about it. It's my job, and I'm just happy that you're safe. ''
'' Still, if it weren't for you I- '' you stopped, feeling yourself choking on tears as your mind imagined all possible endings.
He gave your shoulder a squeeze and looked at you sympathetically. Sensing that you needed some time to yourself, he then left to go talk to one of the remaining officers.
Long after they had all left and the commotion from the clamoring, nosey neighbors had settled, the feeling remained. It was hard going to sleep that night with your mind racing so much.
Despite that, you got ready and forced yourself to sleep, knowing that after some time you'd fall asleep naturally. You closed your eyes and daydreamed, occasionally taking a sip of the bottle of water next to your bed until falling into a deep slumber.
The next morning, you awoke with a pounding head yet again. Sitting up slowly you groaned and clutched it while your eyes looked around your apartment.
Something felt off.
You blamed the headache on stress and it causing you to not drink enough water, but you couldn't shake the feeling that the paranoia arose in you, the suspicion that someone had been inside your apartment.
'' That's nonsense, '' you sleepily mumbled to yourself.
One more yawn later and you managed to stand up, although with some difficulty. Inside the bathroom, you began to start your usual morning routine when your suspicions got closer to being confirmed.
On top of the toilet stood the roll of toilet paper. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary at first, it was in the same space it always was. However, on further inspection, the material was wet with a slight imprint of fingers.
You couldn't shake this off as a mere coincidence. All logical explanations were immediately ruled out - you hadn't showered before going to bed and the mark was so new, it wouldn't even have been left if you did go to the bathroom during the night. That was the thing, you didn't.
Freaked out of your mind, you did the first thing you could think of - leave the apartment.
With trembling hands, you managed to get your phone out while stumbling down the stairs. You called Ryujin who picked up almost immediately.
'' Y/n, you're late again! The boss is freaking out. ''
'' Sorry, I- '' you shook your pulsating head.
It was making you feel disoriented so words were formed a lot slower as your mind worked twice as slow.
'' Can you cover for me? I don't think I can come to work today actually. ''
'' What why? '' when she heard the uneasy tone in your voice, she paused. '' Did something happen? ''
'' I'll tell you later. ''
'' Okay, '' she worriedly agreed.
You had originally planned on going to work, but the events from the day before; as well as you convincing yourself that your stalker was waiting for you outside, made you reconsider.
On the short walk back to your apartment after you went to buy some food, you bumped into the security guard again.
'' Are you okay? ''
You turned around, quickly fixing your expression when you realized you must've looked erratic. '' Huh? ''
'' Did...something happen? ''
'' No. I'm okay. ''
You hurried to move on and get to your apartment. The silence inside when the door locked was deafening. A few seconds passed, then you turned all the lights on.
A kitchen knife was the weapon of choice as you navigated yourself through the apartment, checking every crook in it. You opened the door to your bedroom and bathroom with some hesitancy, only to find it completely empty, and just as you'd left them.
No one was hiding in your closet either, or under your couch, so you relaxed as you fell back on your bed again, exhausted from the stress and paranoia that was eating you up inside.
It must have been midday when you woke up again. It felt like it had been a long time since you left the building and actually went further than the corner shop.
Aimlessly you walked with a slight hurry to your steps, down the steep staircase, and into the center of the square where you hailed a cab.
Since the day before, you felt like you wanted to visit the police station. You needed to make sure the stalker had been caught and that it was just your mind playing tricks on you because you'd been so shaken up.
Thankfully it wasn't busy so you managed to get a hold of an officer at the desk right away.
'' Hey. How can I help you? ''
'' I'm wondering about someone you have in custody. I'm looking for someone and I want to see them. ''
'' Are you a family member? ''
'' No, is that okay? ''
'' State your relation to the person and who you want to see. ''
You filled in a form and then followed the lady at the reception as she led you through the maze that was the police station. The manager's eyes widened when he spotted you, and despite being warned by the guard not to, he started on his feet and grabbed the bars.
'' Y/n! Please tell them it was a misunderstanding. ''
Your lips thinned. '' I can't, because I'm not so sure it is. ''
He stared at you bewilderedly while incoherent words left his mouth until he finally turned his attention to the guard as an idea popped into his disoriented head.
'' Are you allowed to show her that I filed a report? ''
'' No sir. I can only confirm. ''
'' So you confirm that I filed a police report last night against the actual stalker and harasser of this lady? ''
'' I confirm you filed a report, '' the officer grumbled.
'' Why? ''
Your manager sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.
'' Because I'm not the man who has been stalking you! ''
'' How can I trust you? ''
For whatever reason, he hesitated which made alarm bells ring in your ears. You weren't sure you'd believe anything he'd say from then on, it all seemed very planned and rehearsed.
'' Look. I got your room number from the security guard, I asked him where you lived since I needed to give you the wallet back. ''
You shook your head and backed away from the bars. '' No, I don't believe you. Ever since I joined the company you've always been there, ready to protect me, coming out of nowhere to pretend to be my hero. But you're the one pulling the strings behind the scenes! You are my stalker. ''
You directed your attention to the officer again. '' Have you got enough evidence to keep him longer? ''
The ticking of the large clock right above your head made you aware of the fact that they'd have to release him out of custody unless they had compelling evidence.
'' No ma'am. The DNA test results will arrive in a week. ''
You released a shaky breath and raised both your hands as if trying to grasp something invisible to ground yourself.
'' Okay, okay, '' you mumbled under your breath.
'' The other possible suspect will be arrested tonight. If you'd like, we can escort you back home safely. ''
'' Yes please, I'd appreciate that. ''
If you stayed inside for a week, which was slightly inconvenient but manageable nonetheless, then maybe they'd have newer evidence as well as the DNA results from the gift box you gave them.
The kind officers escorted you home as promised and for the first time in a long time, you didn't feel paranoid and scared while waving goodbye to them. You went upstairs and checked every room again before falling asleep.
As you awoke the next day, the sun had risen a long time ago. Your work was the last thing on your mind. Instead of calling in sick again, despite the risk of being fired, you called your friend Ryujin.
There was a chance that your manager had been released so you didn't want to be alone.
She picked up after only a few rings, sounding out of breath and worried. '' Y/n? Where the fuck have you been? ''
You jumped back and winched at her loud voice. She was shouting so much that you could hear her perfectly fine even while holding the phone an arm's length away from your ear.
'' I was so worried! I thought something bad happened to you after that pervert at work caused a scene, and then you call me once to tell me to cover for you at work! ''
She did have a point. You didn't give her an explanation after basically going completely silent. No one at work must've had any clue what was going on in your private life and why you weren't there. But if anyone deserved to know it was Ryujin.
'' I'm sorry, '' you began, sighing heavily. '' I've been dealing with a lot of shit lately. ''
'' Like what? '' she spat back, although less angry and loud this time.
'' It's hard to explain. Ever since that day I've been feeling like someone's been watching me. ''
'' A stalker? ''
'' Yeah, something like that. ''
'' Why didn't you tell me sooner? ''
'' It was a lot I had to process and figure out on my own first. I think this...stalker has been breaking into my apartment. ''
'' What? ''
'' I don't have a lot of proof of it. Mostly, it's just a feeling. ''
She went quiet for a moment, then when she spoke again, her voice sounded thick with sympathy. '' I believe you. ''
'' Thank you, '' you smiled wholeheartedly even though she couldn't see you.
You didn't know how much you'd missed her until you heard her voice again.
'' Do you wanna come over? ''
'' Of course. I think you need someone right now, '' she half-joked. '' I have enough vacation days, so that won't be a problem. I'll be over in twenty! ''
'' Okay, bye see you! ''
'' Bye! ''
You spent the next twenty minutes pacing back and forth in your apartment, not daring to go check if the toilet roll had been used again. When the bell rang, you felt so relieved, you didn't even check who it was.
Thankfully, that time it was actually Ryujin and not someone else. You flung yourself into her arms and hugged her tightly.
'' Oh wow, someone's missed me. ''
'' Shut up, '' you gave her a grin despite your words, which she returned as she sat down.
'' So. Tell me everything. ''
*******
After hearing the whole story, your friend was more worried than ever. Her reaction was a lot stronger than the other people who knew about it and you felt relieved she shared your paranoia.
The two of you drove down to the station so you could see if they had released him yet. Luck seemed to finally be on your side as they told you they had extended the time and were questioning both of the suspects since the creep from your job had been brought in too.
The weight on your shoulders had lifted completely now. Unless they broke out or were freed not long after, you'd at least have a night of serene rest, finally worry-free.
'' We will contact you when we have more information, '' the kind lady at the desk told you while you were leaving again.
'' Maybe I can go back to work tomorrow. ''
Ryujin turned her head so fast she almost crashed the car.
'' Are you sure? Do you not feel scared anymore? ''
'' No, why would I? I think it'll be okay. Soon they will get the results and they can finally be charged and put away forever. ''
She hummed in response, deep in thought, but agreed in the end that it would be good for you to go back to routine. You would put the whole thing behind you.
'' Thank you for dropping me off, and for coming over today. ''
'' No need to thank me, I was going crazy thinking about all the things that could've happened to you. Promise me you'll never leave me in the dark like that again! '' she frowned.
You laughed loudly, '' Promise. ''
As she drove off you waved enthusiastically so she'd see you were fine, because she kept asking if you were sure you didn't want her to stay the night.
On the way up, you saw the security guard again. He noticed your bright smile and lit up when he saw you.
'' You seem to be in a good mood today. ''
'' Yes! I am. ''
He stepped into the elevator with you and raised a small package in his hand to show you he was doing a delivery.
'' Is there any reason in particular? ''
'' The whole thing has been solved...well, pretty much anyway. The two suspects were arrested so I will be sleeping well tonight. ''
'' That's great! ''
You nodded, '' What floor are you going to? ''
'' Same as you, the eight, '' he gestured to the buttons and you pressed it for him.
'' You're too nice, I keep saying it. Shouldn't people come get their own packages in the lobby? ''
'' They should, but they don't. I guess the positive thing is that it leads to better reviews, so higher prices, and then I get a higher salary, '' he winked.
'' Smart, playing the long game. ''
You stepped out of the elevator and started walking towards your apartment. Even from afar, you noticed something was wrong with the lock. It kept beeping and flashing an error message.
It was quite easily fixed so you tried to contain your irritation on the inside.
'' Are you okay over there? '' the security guard shouted from the other side of the hallway.
He had dropped off his package and came over, having heard the noises.
'' Damn it. That fucker must've been inside this morning. ''
'' I thought he was arrested. ''
You nodded and swallowed bitterly, a look of disdain struck across your features. '' He was, I guess he just had to do it one last time. ''
'' Will you be okay? '' his soft voice sounded even more gentle as it was laced with genuine concern, '' do you want me to check? ''
'' No. The danger's gone, he can't hurt me anymore. ''
You didn't know if it was him you were trying to convince or yourself.
'' You can sleep with me, '' he timidly added.
'' What? '' you whipped your head around, having been lost in your thoughts for a moment.
'' I meant sleep by me, '' he blushed, '' in the lobby, if you feel scared. ''
You knew he probably meant well, but it was hard to hide the expression your face changed into since you felt a little weirded out. To sleep near someone is to trust them completely.
'' Thank you. I'll remember that in case I change my mind. ''
It was said in a stern tone, finalizing the conversation. The security guard was observant and picked up on it, nodding curtly before leaving. You gave the lock one final irritated look, then closed the door behind you and hurried to turn the lights on.
One tour later where you found no one and you were yet again left to make the hours go by until it was time to fall asleep again. You were thankful for the water bottle that always stood on your nightstand then as you downed it thirstily.
It washed over you like a wave, the sleepiness, and like it was knocking you over, you found yourself falling back against the soft mattress and blinking hazily at the ceiling.
Mere minutes after, you couldn't fight against it any longer so you became engulfed in what had become a familiar darkness. The sun outside slowly started fading, there was no way to tell how long it had been since you laid down; its last golden-red beams illuminated against your window.
Your room which was now one with the darkness suddenly lit up briefly. The screen of a phone on the table lighting up as a message popped up.
It went unnoticed and so the room turned black again. But then more messages came in, just when it was about to go dark - another lit up the room.
00:13
Ryujin: y/n?
Ryujin: can you answer me? this is important
00:14
Ryujin: are you okay?
00:15
Missed call from Ryujin
00:15
Ryujin: if you don't pick up the phone I'm coming over, if you see this, make sure you lock your door and the windows, also make sure you check everywhere!
Ryujin: the DNA results came in
The sound of a door unlocking echoed in the apartment. A hooded man stalked towards your sleeping form and the bed dipped as he sat down on it to pet your head.
00:15
Ryujin: it's not them, it's someone else
You stirred in your sleep, blissfully unaware of the danger that lurked just above you.
'' Sorry about the drugs, sweetheart. It's the only way I could visit you at night. But now, we will be together forever, '' the man said, and as he carried you out, the reflection in the mirror showed your stalker - the security guard.
*******
(explanation; although I think most people will guess it right I'll explain why it was him. The reason all she did was sleep was because of the drugs, he put them in the water bottle and then snuck in after she fell asleep during his nightshift, he laid next to her & even used her things (such as the paper) because he played '' house '' or pretended he was her boyfriend; since he was the security guard he had the easiest access to her as they often have keys to every apartment & it's also why he said he didn't see anyone delivering the package to y/n, I guess your enemies are a lot closer than you'd think c: !! if u have any more questions feel free to send them <3
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the-offside-rule · 8 months
Text
Oscar Piastri (McLaren) - Drunken
Requested: yes
Prompt: "Can I get a oneshot where Oscar and the reader are roommates and Oscar confesses he's in love with her one night. You can end it however you want, I would just love some drama"
Warnings: drunk Oscar...bit of angst....and heartbreak
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Oscar tumbled into the bathroom, a goofy grin on his face and a distinct wobble in his step. Y/n sighed,as she watched him nearly bang his head of the toilet seat. "Careful, Oscar." She said, holding him up by his hoodie. "Oscar, you're a mess." She chuckled, trying to keep her tone light as she helped him. "You're an angel." He loudly announced. "Okay, buddy. Just right into the toilet. Come on, here we-"
"But I love you so much," Oscar slurred, his eyes filled with affection as he attempted to grab her hand. Y/n chuckled, gently taking it in hers and running her fingers through his hair. "I love you too, but you're going to regret this tomorrow." Oscar pouted. "No regrets, just love." Y/n sighed, still with a fake smile on her lips. "Okay, let's just focus on getting sick now. Come on." Oscar waved his arms around. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, Y/n. I don't know how I would have gotten here- wait no- I don't know. I just love you, okay?" She rolled her eyes. "Well, you're not the best thing that's happening to me right now. You're being a bit much"
"But I'm your bit much." He insisted with a goofy grin. "What does that even mean?" She asked. "It means you're stuck with me, baby! Whether you like it or not!" Y/n couldn't help but smile at his antics. "Yes, my 'bit much'. Do you need to get sick?" Oscar looked up. "I don't think I need to get sick." He slurred. "You don't need to throw up?" She asked, just making sure. "I don't need to throw up- I am a grown man!" Y/n giggled. "Alright. We'll head head bed." She smiled, helping her roommate up off the ground.
Oscar flopped onto the bed, looking up at her with puppy-dog eyes. "Stay with me?" Her heart felt like it jumped. "We live together? You'resure you want me to sleep in your bed again?" She asked, tucking him in. "Again? You've slept in my bed before?" Y/n nodded. "Nice one." Y/n burst out laughing. "You're such an idiot." Oscar looked up beaming. "Come here." He said, pulling her into bed with him and snuggling up to her. "You're everything." Y/n smiled and pecked his forehead. "For today, maybe." She mumbled, trying to stifle a laugh. "No, you'll always be everything to me." As Y/n settled in next to him, Oscar kept rambling on about how lucky he was to have her. Eventually, annoyance started to creep into Y/n's expression.
"Oscar, seriously, you need to sleep this off. We can talk about your undying love for me tomorrow when you're sober." He pouted again. "You don't want me to tell you how amazing you are?" Y/n rolled her eyes. "Look its great and all, but not when you never say this sober. We are roommates. Now, close your eyes and go to sleep." Oscar sighed dramatically, closing his eyes. "Fine, but only because you're so persuasive." As Y/n watched him drift off, she couldn't help but smile. Despite the annoyance, there was a sweetness to Oscar's drunken affection that she found endearing. She sighed, knowing that in the morning they wouldn't be this affectionate. She would still just be his roommate.
"Morning." Oscar groaned, stumbling into the kitchen as Y/n sat on the sofa watching TV. "Morning. How's the head?" She asked. "Not good. Very not good." She hid a laugh as she watched the TV. Shortly after, Oscar joined her with a pint of water and plopped down onto the couch. "I don't even wanna know what I did last night." Y/n looked over to him, slightly confused. "You were blackout drunk?" Oscar nodded. "The last thing I remember was the jägerbomb." Y/n turned back around to watch the TV. He didn't remember anything about what they said to eachother last night? Nothing at all? "Do you remember anything you did last night?" Y/n asked, slightly hopeful he did. Oscar pouted and shook his head. "Haven't a clue. I didn't do anything stupid did I?"
Y/n felt her heart strings being played. She smiled and shook her head helplessly. "Nothinf worth noting, no." Oscar chuckled lightly and lay back. "Good. Crisis averted." Y/n nodded and kept her attention on the TV, taking all the strength in her to keep her tears in. He always did this. He always became so loving when he was drunk and the when he was sober, he'd be the complete opposite. It made her feel horrible, like she was being used. It was horrible, this was horrible. "Yeah...crisis averted..."
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callsign-rogueone · 1 month
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resson (garrick's version)
Garrick Tavis x reader a Garrick and Angel chapter! I need to re-number these at some point, but this happens between 1 and 2 — some of the events at Resson, and them going back to Aretia. written in Garrick’s pov, since Angel isn’t exactly conscious at the moment... words: 2.9k 🏷️: fourth wing spoilers, major character death, canon injury, allusions to hypothermia, writing as Garrick is hard but I tried, poor boy isn’t sure she’s gonna survive this (we know she does, since I wrote this out of order, but still), he takes good care of his girl, Sweetheart makes an appearance along with Darling Spark and Love, somewhat proofread but not really. I’m sorry this took me so long, but here it is. better late than never?
There’s a red dragon lying on the ground, wounded. It’s either Cosa or Deigh, but I can’t tell from this far out. Deigh, I realize when I’m close enough to see his horns, and he isn’t moving. If he’s dead, then Liam only has a few minutes left.
I make the jump too quickly, scrambling to get my feet underneath me, but I’m too late. Liam’s gone. His girlfriend is sobbing into his shoulder, Bodhi attempting to soothe her through his own tears. He has one arm held to his chest, the other rubbing her back gently. 
But there’s a second body slumped against Deigh’s side, and my heart nearly stops when I realize who it is. 
“Angel,” I breathe, kneeling down beside her, brushing my hands over her cheeks. She’s cold to the touch even in the July heat, her head lolled down onto her chest and her body completely limp, but she’s still breathing, thank the gods. I couldn’t bear to lose both her and Liam on the same day. It would destroy me. 
A quick inspection and confirmation from Tab tell me that she’s not wounded — a few scratches here and there, and some tender points that will be bruised tomorrow, but nothing major.
“She tried,” Bodhi tells me quietly. “There was nothing she could do, but she tried anyway, and…” He doesn’t finish the sentence, knowing that I can see it as well as he can.
I’ve seen her drained before, completely exhausted after a long day mending in the infirmary, unsteady on her feet and ready to flop facedown onto my bed and sleep it off, but this is several steps past that. It’s clear that she’d used absolutely everything she had in trying to keep Liam and Deigh alive, and I don’t know how long it will take her to recover. 
If she does recover, I think for a single second before crumpling the thought up like a piece of parchment and shoving it deep, deep down. She’s going to live. She’s going to recover. She has to. There is no way that the two of us could ever be separated like that. 
I have to do something, but what? Is sleeping it off followed by a giant bowl of pasta going to be enough this time, or does she need to see a healer? Could the healers even fix this? Is there a cure for burnout other than rest?
“The Lieutenant Colonel would know. He’s a mender as well.” 
Brennan would know. Him or Colonel Colbersy would be the best bets — but the idea of taking her back to that hellhole school right now is enough to light my blood on fire. Graduation is in less than a week, and I know they aren’t going to give her any time to recover before they transfer her across the continent to gods-know-where and expect her to start working.
I hook an arm under her knees, another behind her back, lifting her up from the dirt and gathering her into my lap. She’s too drained to speak, to open her eyes, but I feel a little flare of recognition from her as she leans into my chest — she knows it’s me. She’s still in there. 
I tuck her head into my shoulder, stroking a hand over her disheveled braids, because that’s all I can do right now.
Our little sister has silently slotted herself between me and Bodhi. She leans her head against my shoulder, sniffling quietly. She looks unharmed, but there’s dried blood coating her nose and upper lip, and her cuticles are shredded; she’s been peeling them since we left the school, as a nervous habit. Something’s bothering her, but I haven’t had time to ask what — though I have a suspicion that it has something to do with that little joker in Violet’s squad.
And now this. Liam had become her best friend, the first person her age that she was truly comfortable with, and now… I put my other arm around her, squeezing gently. She’s trembling, crying as quietly as possible — even in a situation like this, she doesn’t want to make a sound.
“I’m so sorry, kid,” I say softly, as if that will make it hurt any less.
She leans into me a little further. “Is she going to be okay?”
“Yeah,” I promise her, “She’s gonna be fine in a day or two. She just needs rest — you know how it is.”
I pray to every higher power that exists that I’m right — that Angel will be fine, that our sister won’t lose yet another loved one. She’s finally coming out of her shell, starting to let people in, but I’m afraid that losing Liam might send her right back to square one: the girl I’d met six years ago, who was too scared to speak. I didn’t hear her voice for a week and a half — only timid nods or shakes of the head for yes or no questions.
My eyes widen as I see Xaden approach, a limp-looking Violet in his arms. She’s wheezing, black blood trickling from a wound in her side.
“It has to be poison,” Imogen reasons, sounding more torn up about this than I thought she’d ever be. “Look at it! We have to get her back to Basgiath. Nolon might be able to help.”
“That’s a twelve-hour flight.” Xaden’s voice rises. “And I’m pretty sure her arm is broken.”
Is she going to make it that long?
“There’s somewhere closer,” he says quietly.
“You can’t be serious,” Ciaran interrupts.
“You’ll put everything at risk,” I warn.
Tairn roars in dissent.
“I wouldn’t say that again,” Imogen mutters, “or he’ll probably eat you. And don’t forget, if she dies, there’s a damn good chance Xaden does, too.”
“I’m not saying he shouldn’t, just reminding him what the stakes are.”
“I don’t give a fuck what happens to me!” Xaden yells. “We’re going, and that’s an order.”
Bodhi agrees without protest. “No need for orders, man. We’ll save her.” 
“You’re sure about this?” Imogen asks.
“Stop fucking asking him that,” I snap without thinking. “He made his decision. Support him or get the fuck out, Imogen.”
“And it’s a bad one.”
Bodhi turns his head to glare at him. “When you have a hundred and seven scars on your back, then you get to make the fucking decisions, Ciaran.”
Rocks crunch under a pair of boots as another of our friends approaches. She looks utterly defeated — her face, neck, and hair are splattered with wyvern blood, and the makeup she’d so carefully applied for the Reunification Day party is running in dark trails down her cheeks, her eyes swollen and red from crying. She’s unusually quiet as she speaks. “X is right. We need to lie low for a few days — get our wounded help, and…”
And bury Liam. Her little brother. 
A wave of guilt floods through me. I had been too focused on Angel to fully process the fact that Liam, Xaden’s little brother, who may as well be mine too, is gone forever. We have to bury him tomorrow. I’ll never hear him laugh again, never receive another one of his little wood carvings… Oh, fuck. Sloane. She’d been counting down until her conscription day, when she could see him again, but now she never will. 
“It’s settled, then,” another soft voice says — Bodhi’s wife. “We’re going home.”
Nobody dares to disagree with her.
I give our sister one last gentle squeeze before I rise from the ground, Angel in my arms, and carry her the hundred yards to the rest of the riot, who have been keeping watch over us.
Tab lowers his head, mournful and dejected. He must regret not cutting her off, blocking her out from his magic before she overdid it. She’d never forgive him if he had interfered with her efforts to save Liam, but if he had, she might still be lucid. 
It’s absolutely terrifying seeing her like this. 
Chradh nods in understanding before I can ask, lowering himself flat to the ground so I can climb up while still holding her. I know it’s a major no-no for a dragon to bear anyone but their rider, but all of ours understand the gravity of the situation — a few of us aren’t in condition to fly, and will need to double up with someone who is.
She’s still freezing cold, and I know that the altitude and wind on our flight home won’t help. I sit her up in front of me, removing my flight jacket one sleeve at a time. 
It’s like dressing a doll — she’s completely pliant in my arms, and I have to keep moving her to get the jacket on, guiding her hands through the sleeves and buttoning it closed on top of her own. I pull her goggles up so the wind won’t hurt her eyes, and turn her head to tuck her face into my neck. 
Chradh wraps an invisible band of power around us to help keep her in place. 
“Just hang on for me, Angel,” I murmur, my lips brushing her hairline. “We’re taking you home.”
———————————————
Every step up the staircase sends a wave of pain up my left leg. I fucked up my knee in my running landing, too panicked to think straight once I realized that one of the dragons was wounded so severely.
I can worry about myself later. Right now I need to get her in bed, and prepare her for Brennan’s assessment.
My magic works to open the doors here, too, so I don’t have to worry about dropping her while I get us inside. I sit in my desk chair and prop her up in my lap, the wood creaking under our combined weight. 
I get her out of my flight jacket, then hers, and assess the state of her base layers. I decide to get her out of her leathers, at least — those are terrible to sleep in, and she’s always been picky about “outside clothes” on the bed. 
She was cold to the touch even with the extra layers, but without them I realize exactly how icy her skin is. I leave her with shorts and a tank top, but I pull back the bed covers with one hand and lay her down, piling her with blankets to make up for the loss. As soon as I drape them over her body, I’m rewarded with a small sign of life — she burrows deeper into the covers, seeking warmth.
Maybe warming her back up will be enough to get her lucid again, like this is some kind of hypothermia. But how did that happen? It’s July, the warmest part of the year across the whole continent.
I drag my desk chair over to the edge of the bed, taking a seat. It’ll be a while yet before Brennan can check on her — it’s going to take a small miracle for him to get the poison out of Violet’s system. 
She’s turned her head away from me, so I occupy myself with fixing her braids. They’re undone in places, big strands pulled out by the wind. I untie the leather band at the bottom, setting it on the nightstand and gently undoing the plaits. 
I’ve been practicing, but I’m not skilled enough to do the style she usually wears. I settle for detangling as best I can with just my fingers, and gathering it all into a low ponytail. It’s a small comfort to see her looking less disheveled. This way I can almost pretend that there’s nothing wrong, that she’s just taking a nap in my bed on a winter afternoon, piled up with blankets. 
“Can you ask Tab to keep an eye on her while I shower?”
“He won’t be taking his eye off of her anytime soon.”
If Tab can still feel her, that’s a good sign, I guess. I’ll take anything normal as a good sign right now. I cast one last long glance at her before I slip into the bathroom, keeping the door open just in case.
I look like shit after nearly two full days of flight and combat, but a shower and some real sleep should help. The water here is warmer than at Basgiath — though that’s a very low bar — and the pressure isn’t terrible. It’s almost nice. It would be a welcome reprieve, if I wasn’t so worried about her and Violet and all of our friends. I’m pretty sure Bodhi broke an arm back there, and our sister looked so shaken… she’d disappeared as soon as we got home. I need to check on her in the morning.
I haven’t heard anything from the bedroom, which is either a good sign or a bad one, but when I peek my head out, I can see the pile of blankets still rising and falling with her slow breaths. I dry off as quickly as I can and begin the search for clean clothes.
My old pajama pants are loose enough to accommodate the extra inches I’ve put on my thighs in three years as a dragon rider, but I can’t fit my arms through the sleeves of the first shirt I find. I make a quick modification with one of my smaller knives before tugging it over my head and settling back down beside her.
There’s a soft knock on the door.
Brennan looks absolutely exhausted, but he waves a hand at me in dismissal as I rise from the creaking desk chair and offer it to him. Stubborn fucking Sorrengails. 
He examines her for a minute, his eyebrows drawn together the way I’ve seen them when he’s looking over a battle map as he checks her pulse. Her breaths become even slower as he wraps his hand around her wrist, her body relaxing. 
“How long has she been like this?”
“Since we left Resson,” I answer. “She didn’t wake up on the flight.”
He blows out a breath. “I can fix the smaller stuff, but I don’t know what made her this way. I’ve seen burnout before, but this isn’t it.” He pauses, and his voice is strained as he continues. “It’s like she siphoned half her life away to try to save him.”
I can’t help but wince, knowing how his friend had done just that in the battle of Aretia five years ago — only Naolin had given up not just half his life, but the whole of it. And him being reminded of that on the day that he’d finally reunited with his little sister, who is currently residing on Malek’s doormat… 
I break the silence after a moment. “She’s not a siphoner, though. She’s a mender, like you.”
“That explains it, I guess. The loss of Deigh’s power is what ended Liam’s life, but we can’t mend magic. There’s nothing she could have done, but she kept trying anyway, and it was too much for her.”
Again, he sounds pained. 
I tread carefully with my next question. “Have you seen it happen before? A rider lose their dragon?”
“Yes. I tried as hard as I could to save her, but it was futile. I felt utterly useless.”
“How long did it take you to recover?”
He shakes his head. “I didn’t need to. I was fine, just a little shaken.”
I exhale. “She’s always had issues with her signet. It’s easy for her to overwork herself, but I’ve never seen it this bad.”
He lets go of her wrist, setting her arm down gently, and I hear a soft sound of discomfort leave her lips. Why is she in pain? He’d just mended all of her visible injuries away, and I didn’t see anything under her clothes when I’d gotten her into bed. Maybe it’s the sudden cold — being mended always feels warm, and she’s still freezing.
“I’ll keep an eye on her,” I say softly. “Thank you.”
He nods, looking ready to head up a flight to his own room and collapse.
The sun has set, the warm dusk we’d landed in now replaced with dark night, and I’m absolutely exhausted. I lift up a few of the half dozen blankets, slotting myself in next to her. My entire body relaxes as soon as I’m horizontal on a real mattress, the pressure taken off of my legs. 
She curls into me with a soft sigh, and it takes an effort not to flinch at how cold she still is even through the layers of blankets, but I wrap my arms around her, trying to warm her up. “Angel?” I ask softly.
No response — not even a hum. How long is she going to be like this?
“I love you,” I say quietly, even though it’s doubtful she can hear me. “Get some rest, okay? You need to recover. You have to recover. I need you. We all need you.”
Another sleepy sigh as she shifts over a little, resting her head over my heart like she always does. It’s probably just muscle memory from sleeping like this every night for years, but part of me wonders if it’s her telling me that she loves me too, and that she’ll be okay.
“Sleep,” Chradh encourages. “We’ll watch her.”
I don’t respond, my eyes already closing. Shitty circumstances aside, it’s nice to be home again, curled up with her in my — our — own bed, away from the demands of that infernal school. 
We can sleep as late as we want tomorrow morning.
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icarusdescending7 · 2 months
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Aquamarine - Chapter 3
Ao3 | First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
Your fiancé died seven years ago, and you joined the military in his wake to fill the void his death put on you. Now, you work with the 141 for an assignment, hunting associates of their enemies.
Their Lieutenant, however, given you an uneasy feeling. You have a vague sense of familiarity with him, but from where?
-☆-☆-☆-☆-☆-☆-
You sighed as you stared up at the ceiling, replaying the day's events over and over. What a… stressful first day. First, the other Lieutenant doesn’t like you, then the gift your fiancé gave you breaks, and you get the shards in your hand and have to have Soap help you pull them out. What a mess. You clenched your hand a little, sighing at the feeling of the wounds splitting open. These are the days you wish he were still- you need to stop thinking about him. He’s dead and gone. In the past. If only it were that simple. But it is that simple. It really isn’t. It is. It’s not.
You rolled over, glancing at the clock, and sighed— 1 am. You buried your face into the pillows and immediately relaxed. Your brow furrowed for only a moment before you fell asleep. The smell of citrus and cedar lulled you away to the best sleep you’d known in years.
~~
You were lying on the ground, a thick dust clouding up around you as you struggled to regain your senses, the sound of thundering boots approaching you, grabbing you by your vest, and attempting to pull you up. Keyword: attempting. You were quickly dropped as a red mist hit your cheek, the hulking man before you with a newfound hole in his head. He collapsed on top of you, and you were quick to shove his corpse off, the drop shaking you back to reality.
“Too close, Ghost.” You grumbled into your earpiece, wiping the blood off your face with the back of your hand. You recovered your rifle and shouldered it, moving to take cover.
“You’re getting sloppy. Did you eat when we told you to?” He asked, another gunshot coming over his mic. “I have a feeling you didn’t. I can see it, in the way you’re shaking.” He said, a hint of annoyance in his voice— which wasn’t lost on you.
“I meant that you almost got me too with that shot. Did you eat?” You asked, annoyed, “Why do you care? Christ, you sound like my fiancé. Always on my ass about eating…” You mumbled, turning to move forward, finally hitting the door you were trying to get to and shooting the lock off. You swapped to your sidearm, dropping low as you entered, waiting for Soap to catch up.
“What, we can’t be concerned for our teammate's health?” Soap’s voice came in over the comms, breathless like he’d been running. “We cannae do a ton with you operatin’ at fifty percent, can we?” He slipped in through the door, giving Ghost an indirect thumbs-up as he did.
“Right, because me being a little hungry is so much worse than you dodging bullets at every opportunity you get.” You rolled your eyes, looking at him. “Look at you, you’re covered in scrapes and gashes… Ghost, you got our six while we’re in here?” You asked, poking your head out and looking for the glint of his scope.
It takes him a minute to respond, then a raspy “Yeah, got an eye out.” rung in your ears.
~
“Soap! You done planting those C4 yet? We got to get the fuck outta here!” You shouted, ripping the hard drives and USB sticks from the computers you found, hoping something might be useful beyond what you were sent after. You quickly shoved it all in your pack, running down the hall and dipping into the room he sat in.
“Yeah, lass! Let’s go!” He said, grabbing your arm and dragging you along as fast as possible to get out. At some point, you ended up in a fireman carry over his shoulder, being shaken about as he ran like a bat out of hell. You let it happen, not trying to run when you could barely see straight.
He dropped you on the ground face down, a puff of dirt kicking up around you. You got up on your knees, shrugging your pack off your shoulders, and flopped onto your back, trying to cool your pulse. You were shaking like a leaf. No, you didn’t eat. Before you could fully recover, your pack was snatched off the ground by Soap and you were quickly picked up by Ghost, who carried you much more delicately if not a bit tight— bridal style. The three of you booked it, the sound of trucks rumbling on the dirt path, getting closer with each second.
After an hour of running, the three of you finally settled in a dense patch of woods, taking a moment to breathe. Before you could think, they both shoved energy bars in your face, their expressions mildly annoyed.
“Eat.” Ghost nearly demanded, opening the bar and shoving it in your mouth when you went to protest. “I’m done carryin’ your ass around.” He huffed, leaning back against a tree and closing his eyes.
Soap closed his eyes, also leaning against a tree. “Where are we, now? We must’ve missed evac by a mile by now.” He sighed, pulling a satellite GPS out of his bag. “Sorry, two miles.”
You finished eating the bar that Ghost gave you, swallowing the last bite. You took Soaps GPS, fiddling with it for a moment before locking it on a clearing about 4 miles north of you. “We could make our way there, send the coords to Watcher?” You offered, handing it over to him and plucking the other energy bar from his hand.
He showed Ghost the suggested route, shrugging. “Could work.” Ghost only nodded, sighing a bit.
~
The car ride was quiet except for the grumble of the vehicle and the occasional bump making stuff roll across the steel floors. Soap had fallen asleep at some point and was snoring loudly, and you were fighting to stay awake.
“You should sleep.” Ghost's voice broke through the silence, making you jump a little.
“Don’t want to.” You said, looking at what you could see of him. It was dark in the cabin, so all but that creepy mask of his was in shadows. “You’re creepy.”
“So I’ve heard. You gonna fight sleep the whole way or…?” He questioned, turning to look at you. “If you don’t sleep now you won't get any until we get back to base.”
“I’ll sleep when I want to. Are you gonna sleep, or do you have the whole ‘I don’t sleep mehmehmeh’ vibe going on?” You asked, your joke making him huff in amusement.
“I don’t sleep. Not when I’m in the field.” He said, “Just sleep. You’re clearly fighting it, there's no use.” His hand came up to make you lean back to rest. You could only grumble before succumbing to sleep, your head lolling from the back of the seat over to his shoulder, despite the awkward distance between you two.
~~
He watched you as you raked the leaves from your yard into a pile, your focus waning slightly as you hit the same spot for the third time now. Simon went out, taking the rake from your hands and making you take a break.
“Did you eat, sweetheart? You look dizzy.” He asked, making you look up at him. Your eyes were unconcentrated, making him frown. “That’s a no. Go inside, love. I’ll finish up.” He kissed your forehead, sending you on your way.
“Was gonna finish this then do that, but sure, okay.” You grumbled, gently touching the spot where he kissed you. “Are there leftovers from breakfast?”
“Yeah. Go eat those. I’ll be in after a bit.” He called over his shoulder.
You went in and heated up the breakfast you made, taking the plate to the couch and watching him from the window. He’s so kind that you find it hard to believe that he’s a soldier. But then again, it was easy to believe he was a soldier. The scars across his arms and neck and face told all kinds of stories. Not ones you knew, of course, he would never in a million years tell you his tales of war. You were too precious to him, and he feared that you’d fear him instead of love him if you knew the horrors he witnessed and contributed to. But you knew. Even if they were vague hints and words of the ghosts that haunt him. You’d had to ground him from PTSD flashbacks on more than one occasion, and they were never pretty. After each and every one, he’d apologize, hold you close, call you his “pretty girl” and “love of my life”. He’d worry about making you go through that with him, even though you never minded.
You broke out of your trance when he sat his hand on your shoulder, making you turn up to look at him. His cheeks were rosy from the chill of the autumn air, and his hair was messy from his stocking cap. You sat up on the couch, pulling him to eye level and examining his face. You ran your fingers over scars you’d memorized, then found a new one.
“You have a new scar. How’d you get this one?” You asked, knowing you wouldn’t get a straight answer. You ran your fingers over it, bringing him closer to kiss it.
“A battle. Like most of the other scars. Nothin’ you need to worry about” He answered quietly. He leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours. “You don’t have to fuss over every new scar, you know.”
“Maybe not, but is that going to stop me? No. I need you to know that I love you, even with all your battle wounds.” You hummed, closing your eyes.
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myymi · 11 months
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tail wags
Sonic’s ear flicked at the sound of grass rustling behind as he rolled up the two sleeping bags. He was trying to rush so they could get on the move again, having gotten up and moving pretty late today. It had been a lazy morning for the two of them. Instead of running and flying down the road, the two had cuddled up and spent the early sunlight talking about whatever came to mind. Neither of them were really up to being too active today, but the hedgehog knew better than to stay in one spot for too long.
So he forced them up, but let the kid sit out of packing up to stretch his tails before they moved out. It was strange how hard it was to get on his feet this morning, the weight of the kid on his chest more comforting than he ever thought it could be. He didn’t like touching other people. He tried not to let it show around the kid, but physical contact made him want to physically curl away and bolt. He didn’t really get why, but it just wasn’t for him. Or– he thought it wasn’t for him. But somehow that kid managed to blow his mind again. It was insane how often he did that, but he supposes that’s just a trait you have to have in order to keep up with the fastest thing alive. There was more rustling, so Sonic decided to turn around and look at what was the cause of it. His brow furrowed as a confused smile curved his muzzle as he found the cause of the gentle noise.
Tails had his tails pinned against the ground, face scrunched up in annoyance. He hadn’t noticed the tween was looking at him, his attention fully on the two fluffy appendages. His ear flicked a few times, showing he was trying to solve something. "Whatcha doin, bud?" He asked, snorting when the fox jumped. The kit’s ears swiveled before focusing in on Sonic, his head soon turning to look over at him. "My tails aren't listening." He said, lifting a hand to point at his namesakes which allowed one of them to slip free. It started wagging behind him, causing him to huff and reach around to try and catch it. "Whaddya mean they aren't listening?" Sonic asked as he stuffed the sleeping bags into the backpack. It was a tight fit with the two of them, but he learned how to work around it. When they first started traveling together Tails had insisted he slept on the ground, but the tween refused. He lent his to the kid for the first few weeks until he had saved enough money to buy another. Sometimes he would still find loose fox hair in it. "They keep moving when I think about you even though I’m not telling them to!" The fox complained, having successfully recaptured his rogue tail. He held it and the other to his chest, but they still twitched excitedly against him. "Awh, kid.” A fond laugh was pulled out of the older as he walked over to the kid. Tails’ ear flicked as he approached, “They're wagging. Just means you're happy" He explained, reaching down to affectionately muse the kid’s bangs. "But it's never happened before," Tails said, frowning at the appendages. “It’s weird.” “Nah, it’s happened.” Sonic shook his head. He imagined it hasn’t happened much in the kid’s life yet, but he’d definitely caught the twin tails thrashing giddily behind him. “I’ve seen ‘em do it.” That got him to look up, brow furrowed as he soaked up the new information. He was like a little sponge, though squeezing him wouldn’t get him to let go of all the things he’d learned. You’d probably have to pry it straight out of his brain. “What about you? Does your tail ever wag?” The kit asked, head tilting enough to cause his ears to flop over. Sonic shrugged, reaching out to tug at one of the ears despite the swats he received from the younger’s hands. “Sure it does,” He said, snorting when the kid shook his head to free his ear from the hedgehog’s hold which caused it to hit him in the face. “You just haven’t seen it cause it’s small.” “I’ve never seen my tails wag.” Tails pointed out, glancing back at the mentioned appendages. His lips pursed as he considered the new information before turning to look at the tween again and pulled a face. “Are you lying again like you did with the Easter Bunny?” Sonic laughed at that, having forgotten about the times he tried to tell the kid about the usual holiday characters. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t convince the kid things like the Tooth Fairy existed. The first time Tails lost one of his teeth Sonic had tried to swap it out for a few mobiums. It took quite a while to even convince the kid to put it under his pillow, but the promise of mint candy got him to comply. Sonic had done a good enough job at being quiet when sneaking around to his sleeping bag, but no amount of silence could get that tooth without waking the kit up. The second the tween had touched his pillow, Tails shot into a sitting position as if expecting it to have been a badnik. There was just no way to get that kid to believe in them. It didn’t help that he held pretty much all the logic in the world in his tiny, 5 year old brain. Every time Sonic tried to make up a lie for one of Tails’ questions he’d get debunked.
“Nah, this one’s true, keed.” He shook his head, reaching around to poke one of the tails. It twitched in response, “You’re too little to keep all your happiness in ya, which causes your tails to wag.” Sometimes it was odd to teach the kid things outside of breaking badniks. It shouldn’t be. He was 5. He was at the age when kids would go to school to start their journey in learning what they needed to know as they grew up. Tails hummed, searching the older’s face to try and find something that would indicate that he wasn’t telling the truth. “That seems.. weird.” He decided, face scrunching as he tried to work it out in his head. “I have a way to prove it to ya.” Sonic grinned, knowing that Tails would really not like this idea. But curiosity blinded him of the mischief brewing in the older, his head tipping to the side in a silent question. They usually didn’t ask or say things that were obvious in their body language. Neither of them saw the point in it. “Tickling.” His grin widened. He enjoyed messing with the kid, being purposefully dramatic to get any sort of laugh out of him. Really, he just enjoyed hearing it. He wasn’t really sure why, but it was a more calming sound than anything nature could provide. “No!” The fox’s reaction was instant. He was in the air in a second, out of the hedgehog’s reach. Sonic laughed up at him, rising to his feet while holding his hands up in a mock surrender. “Alright, alright, I won’t.” He promised, nodding at the kit to land back down. Tails’ eyes narrowed, but he did as he was told. His feet softly touched the ground a few steps away from the tween for good measure, but it didn’t really matter when you considered the older’s speed. But Sonic was a hedgehog of his word, so instead of poking at the kit he settled for a hair ruffle. His hand was still swatted away with a pout anyway, but the twin tails swayed happily behind the kid. “See?” He pointed at the appendages, smiling as the younger blinked at them. “You just don’t realize when it happens.” Tails considered them for a few moments more before frowning. “I really don’t think they used to do that.” He mumbled, watching as his tails wagged. Sonic frowned as well, how could a kid go so long without ever feeling happy enough for his tails to wag? They shared a silence for a few seconds until the kit suddenly beamed, grinning up at the hedgehog. “Maybe they were broken and you fixed them!” And oh, if that didn’t make his heart swell up in the most painful way. Nothing about this kid was broken. Being born a little different wasn’t a bad thing and he hated that this poor kid had been convinced it was. If anyone was bad or broken it was that stupid village. They were the ones who tormented a child because they didn’t like that he stood out a little. But he didn’t mention it. Tails never did like talking about Westside, so Sonic tried to avoid it whenever he could. “I’unno. Maybe they just now figured it out.” The kid shook his head at that, smile still bright as ever, “They couldn’t have, I didn’t even know they were broken in the first place. Well— I did, but not like that.” “Okay–“ It was Sonic’s turn to shake his head before crouching down to be at eye level with the fox. “They weren’t broken, kiddo. They just needed a second to catch up.” He said, voice firm as he placed a hand on the younger’s shoulder. Tails’ head tilted again as he thought those words over, “..Like me on our runs?” “Exactly!” Sonic grinned, he didn’t even think of making that connection. “Nothin’ wrong with it, they just needed time.” The fox pursed his lips and nodded, satisfied with that answer so the tween ruffled his bangs as he stood back up. With his hands on his hips, he glanced around at what remained of their little campsite.
He had packed up everything, but the light indents in the grass still outlined where everything was. “Speaking of our runs, I think it’s ‘bout time we blow this joint.” He said, turning to look back at the kit with a hand outstretched, “whaddya say, keed?” Tails beamed back, his smaller hand immediately grabbing the older’s with a large smile, “Let’s speed!"
happy wednesday
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mothfables · 1 year
Text
♡ Bunny Flops ♡
Legend flops when he’s happy.
Part one!
The first time it happens, they’re all gathered around the campfire, happy and content from a relaxed day of travel and a hearty meal. Conversation is soft; with no urgent matters vying for their immediate attention, chatter flows easily from one subject to another. Legend shifts from his place on a log to sit on the ground, resting his back against it. Bringing one leg up, he wraps his arms around it to rest his cheek on his knee.
He’s... content, he realizes. Here, with these heroes, talking and laughing about everything and nothing like close friends (like brothers)... A small smile lifts his lips as Wind lightly punches Warriors on the shoulder, only to shriek with laughter as the older boy grabs him in a headlock to ruffle his hair in retaliation. Yeah... content.
Without realizing it, he slowly tips over until he lands on his shoulder with a soft oomph! Hyrule, who’s next to him, lets out a squeak of surprise as Legend’s head lands on his thigh. The Vet gives a sigh, relaxing into the contact. His eyes flutter closed.
Hyrule, for his part, hovers his hands awkwardly, unsure what to do with the unexpectedly calm Veteran lying against his leg. He catches Sky’s eye across the fire and gestures helplessly. The Chosen Hero’s eyes widen before he lets out a soft coo, catching the attention of the others.
“Aawww, did he fall asleep?” Wind asks, his eyes bright. Warriors starts to grin, and Hyrule shoots him a glare. He doesn’t think Legend would appreciate being teased right now.
“...I don’t think I’ve ever seen ‘im so relaxed,” Twilight remarks. He shifts to better see the Veteran, who is indeed very relaxed. He doesn’t so much as stir when Hyrule finally lowers his hands, resting one on his head.
...Hold on. Gently, Hyrule threads his hand through Legend’s hair (marveling quietly at how soft it is). There’s no response.
Frowning now, because Legend always gets defensive when someone touches his hair, Hyrule removes his hand from his hair and shakes his shoulder. Legend doesn’t so much as twitch.
“Um, guys? I think-” Hyrule’s breath catches at the sudden swell of worry in his chest. “I think something might be wrong.”
The other heroes snap to attention at that, Warriors scrambling to his feet and hurrying over. He copies Hyrule, reaching out to shake their unconscious brother’s shoulder. The result is the same- that is to say, nothing. Wars’ brow creases in concern.
“Do you think it’s a curse?” Wind whispers loudly. There’s a bark of surprised laughter followed by a cough.
“I think we would’ve noticed if somebody got cursed, Sailor,” Warriors disagrees, checking Legend’s pulse worriedly. It’s steady and strong; whatever’s happening, it’s not affecting his heart, which rules out a number of other possible causes. If his heart was affected, it’s likely his organs and lungs and quite possibly his brain would be too, all of which would be bad. Luckily, that doesn’t seem to be the case.
“It can’t be poison, we all ate the same thing,” Four mutters, sounding deep in thought. “Legend isn’t the type to eat things he finds out in the woods, either, so I doubt it came from that.” Hyrule and Wild shift somewhat guiltily at that. It’s a hard-learned habit born of survival, but that doesn’t mean everything they put in their mouths is safe to eat. “Warriors, can you see if maybe there’s an injury we didn’t notice? I know he usually doesn’t hide things like that, but it’s possible he didn’t know either.”
The Captain nods and gently, with Hyrule’s help, shifts Legend to check his back and sides, then after a moment of thought, his legs. There’s nothing. He sits back on his heels and just... observes. For all appearances, Legend is simply fast asleep.
He relays as much to the rest of the Chain, whose expressions shift from worry to confusion and disbelief. Legend never sleeps deeply or well, even after several months of travel together. It’s something they’ve all become accustomed to, so seeing him so loose and unguarded is odd at best.
With nothing else to do, everyone slowly goes back to what they were doing before, leaving Hyrule, Warriors, and a still-sleeping Legend in a quiet huddle. After a moment Wars shifts so his back is against the log with Legend’s legs across his lap. Their brother sleeps on.
The odd peace lasts perhaps another half hour before Legend finally stirs. Violet eyes blink open to stare sleepily at the fire. Wind is the first to notice and his gasp alerts the rest of them, startling Legend out of his sleepy half-doze.
“He’s awake!!!” In one swift movement their youngest bounds across the fire towards them. He skids to a stop on his knees and Warriors winces. Wind doesn’t seem to notice or care about the surely-raw skin that resulted and stares at Legend with his signature wiggly frown. Legend, for his part, stares back with wide eyes that slowly shift to meet each of the Chain’s, who are staring back at him.
“...what?” he croaks.
Wars opens his mouth to answer when he’s cut off by a flood of concerned questions.
“Are you okay?”
“What happened? You just passed out and-”
“We couldn’t wake you but Wars said nothin’ was wrong-”
“You don’t look sick-!”
Legend’s shoulders begin to rise. Warriors chuckles, the sound a half-sigh as he drags his hand down his face, relieved. The Vet twitches at the sound and twists around to look at him, his face falling into a scowl.
“What?” Legend asks again. He’s starting to look distinctly annoyed now. Warriors only chuckles again.
And there’s our grumpy Veteran, he thinks fondly, giving his brother a smirk.
Legend puffs up like an angry cat and shoves himself to his feet. “Whatever,” he grumbles, stalking away to where they left their bags. The others’ voices follow him, high and worried. Legend snarks back a response, though his shoulders lose some of their tension. Warriors watches him go, his smirk falling into something softer as he exchanges a glance with Hyrule.
Yeah, he’s fine.
Next >>
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muniimyg · 6 months
Text
𐙚₊˚⊹ best friend!jimin ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹
series m.list // taglist request: closed
🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @pamzn @defzcl @maryy1300 @whoa-jo @taetaecatboy @jksusawife @un06 @firesighgirl @rrosiitas @butterymin @parkinglot-nights @musicjournalsjdb @kissyfacekoo @jkslvsnella @vampcharxter @bloopkook @kekerrreke @somehowukook @bbystarcandykoo
jimin has always found you pretty.
the day you announced to be best friends with him, he quickly accepted his fate and pushed the idea of being with you aside. it didn't matter to him back then. he was just happy to be yours.
but it's different now.
after a long internship abroad, you've finally returned home. he picked you up from the airport and if he could live through the moment where your eyes met in the crowd again—he would.
it was the way your eyes lit up when he found yours.
it was the way he pushed through the crowd to reach for you again.
it was the way you smiled as he pulled you in by your waist, resting your chin on the crook of his neck, murmuring; "god, i missed you."
during the drive back to your place, he asks about your flight. to his dismay, you talk about something else.
someone else.
there's an unsure feeling that forms in the pit of his stomach. it could be jealousy. it probably is jealousy.
you tell jimin about the boy you met during your internship. how he treated you well in the beginning and even considered sleeping with him. how natural it was for you and the other guy to bond. jimin feels sick with every word about him that escapes your mouth. was he replaced? was that why you barely called? was that who you were with and posting in a soft-launch style? oh, his blood boils.
when you arrive at your place, jimin helps you carry your suitcases to your room. but before that, he greets everyone in your family. they waited for you too. they missed you too.
in your bedroom, you immediately fall to your bed. you take a deep breath and stare at the ceiling as jimin sets your suitcases aside. you pat the space beside you and jimin mimics your fall to join you. now, in the silence, you two let your thoughts consume you.
he should say he missed you. he should say he missed you more than you missed him. he should... say something, right? confess or whatever? he isn't sure. all he knows is that he's happy you're back and doesn't think he could do this again.
he can't be without you again.
"___, can i—"
"i think i'm over love," you sigh, turning to your side and facing him. you reach for his hair and play with a few strands. "he was so nice in the beginning. i thought i was going to bring him home and introduce you to him... but it didn't last. why doesn't it ever last?"
jimin's throat goes dry.
"feels like i went to hell and back with him," you admit. "was i always bound to be with guys like him? i've had enough. from here on out, i'm going to commit to the cat lady thing."
he laughs. "really, now? the cat thing? you're allergic."
you huff. "i'll replace you with yoongi. he's a cat. same shit."
jimin pouts.
you laugh and apologize.
"not all guys are like him, ___. you know that." he attempts to comfort you. "i'm not like that."
you smile and nod in agreement. "i know... it's just... what ever happened to love letters? to fresh flowers and picnics by the lake?"
jimin squints at you. "you hate the lake. you say the ground is too mushy and the ducks are scary."
you shrug. "i want to go on a row boat ride. like allie and noah from the notebook or something... you know? i want romance."
"knowing you... you'd fall into the water."
"well, then that's his cue to save me."
"what if he doesn't know how to swim?"
"then he's not the one."
a beat.
"i'm a good swimmer."
you blink at him.
before you can reply, jimin continues. "you seem to be flip-flopping between wanting to love and wanting to be loved. which is it, really?"
you think.
"both," you answer. "how romantic would it be if it was both?"
jimin doesn't answer you.
instead, he looks at you in a way you've never noticed he has. it makes your heart beat faster. it makes you forget to breathe in. you hiccup, he laughs, and suddenly you two feel at ease again.
then, he reaches for your hand.
gently, he intertwines your fingers together. you gulp, unsure if you should say something or move... you figure not to. instead, you lay there and stare at your ceiling. jimin does the same.
in a split moment, you hold your breath. you didn't expect this. neither did he. but it happens. he says something that changes everything between you two forever. from friends to lovers; in between is romance.
this moment is your in-between.
this is romance.
"to love and to be loved," jimin breathes, "... is to be with you."
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vermilionsun · 3 months
Note
Hi hi! I’d like to ask for some hcs for Ais, Vere and Leander (separate, if 3 charas aren’t allowed then just Ais and Vere, please!) who’s s/o has a tiny dog (like a toy poodle size) and the doggo just adores the LIs? Thank you :]
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Toy Poodles are so cute 😭
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Ais
✩ Ais raises a brow as the little puppy comes up to him wagging its tail.
✩ He looks down at the puppy and chuckles before looking back at his s/o. “Yours?”
✩ Ais looks slightly confused but he squats down bends down and lets the puppy sniff his hand before picking it up from the ground and holding it in his arms, running his hand through its fluffy fur.
✩ The puppy barks and wiggles around in his arms, rolling over onto its back, panting happily as he pets it. “Hm, it's cute… What's its name?”
✩ From that day onward, Ais found himself enjoying the puppy's company, even though he wouldn't show it. He'd secretly feed it treats behind your back and even play with it when you weren't looking, still keeping up his nonchalant facade.
✩ He was over at your place a lot more now, the puppy had grown attached to him (and so had he).
✩ The puppy seemed to absolutely adore him, following him everywhere like a little shadow and always coming back to him for affection and cuddles.
✩ Ais even started referring to it as 'his' puppy when he didn't think you were around, but again, he'd never admit it to you directly.
✩ Ais found himself talking to the puppy, though he'd pretend he was just "mumbling to himself", asking it how it's day was and telling it secretly how cute he thought it was. Despite his rough exterior, he had a soft spot for the little ball of fur.
✩ Princess, despite her initial dislike of it, actually softened up a bit upon meeting the puppy. She'd watch from a distance as Ais interacted with the puppy, often joining in on the fun.
✩ Ais would occasionally let the puppy sleep beside him, pretending he didn't mind the extra company.
✩ He even started giving it little nicknames.
✩ If you ever caught him, he'd quickly turn away and pretend he wasn't doing anything.
✩ “I've only known it for a day and a half, but if anything happened to it, I would kill everyone in this room and then myself.”
Leander
🗡 Leander's eyes light up as he sees the puppy
🗡 “Well, aren't you just the cutest little furball. What's your name, little one?”
🗡 He crouches down to the puppy's level and gently sticks out his hand for the puppy to sniff. “You are just the cutest little thing, aren't you? Is it okay if I give you a pat?”
🗡 The puppy starts bouncing around his feet, its ears flopping around. “You're quite the playful one, huh?” Leander chuckles and pats the puppy gently on its head, careful not to be too rough, scratching the puppy behind its ears. “Oh, you like that, don't you? You're a little bundle of energy, aren't you?”
🗡 Ever since that day, Leander and the puppy became i n s e p a r a b l e.
🗡 The man fell completely in love. Absolutely smitten. He treats the puppy like royalty, like his own child.
🗡 The puppy would follow him everywhere and Leander would dote on it constantly, spoiling it with treats and toys, playing with it, taking it for walks, teaching it tricks. and even including it in his daily activities.
🗡 Leander's s/o would often find them curled up together, the puppy napping in his lap as he worked, or them playing tug-of-war with a favorite chew toy in the back alley of the Wick.
🗡  He loves showing off her skills to everyone, proudly calling it his little "accomplished companion."
🗡 Leander finds himself more lighthearted when he's around the puppy, his usual demeanor softening in its presence.
🗡 Leander even began weaving the puppy into his magical practices, using it as a source of inspiration and energy that allowed him to focus his power more effectively.
🗡 He would talk to the puppy as if it understood him, telling it about his day and his troubles, finding solace in having someone to talk to, even if that someone had four legs and a wagging tail.
🗡 “—nOT IN FRONT OF MY CHILD–” *covers its ears with his hands*
🗡 Now you have two entities begging for your attention with puppy eyes.
Vere
✦ Vere's attention is immediately stolen by the adorable ball of fluff.
✦ "Well, aren't you just the cutest little thing? Look at you, all tiny and precious!"
✦ He crouches down to get a closer look, his gaze studying the puppy with genuine affection. He reaches out his hand, making soft clicking noises to get the little puppy's attention.
✦ "Come here, you adorable little fluff ball. Let me see those big, beautiful eyes."
✦ The puppy, sensing Vere's energy, begins to wag its little tail and bounce around excitedly. It looks up at Vere with glossy eyes, its tiny tongue sticking out as it lets out a melodic yip.
✦ A soft chuckle escapes Vere's lips, heart melting at the sight of the little canine. "Oh, you're just so full of life, aren't you? Just a little bundle of joy and cuteness." He extends his hand further, gently patting the puppy's head and stroking its soft fur.
✦ Vere becomes enamored with the little puppy. He takes every opportunity to shower the tiny canine with affection.
✦ The puppy, in turn, becomes incredibly fond of Vere. It becomes his constant companion, eagerly bouncing by his side whenever he's around, jumping on his lap whenever he sits down, curling up against his chest for cuddles and naps, licking his face.
✦ “See darling? It’s obvious it loves me more!”
✦ Vere spends countless hours playing with the puppy, rolling around on the floor, tossing small toys for it to fetch, engaging in lighthearted wrestling matches and even trying to teach it a few tricks.
✦ During quiet moments, Vere would sit with the puppy in his lap, gently petting and scratching behind its ears. The pup would bask in the attention, nuzzling against him and licking his fingers affectionately.
✦ As time passed, Vere's usual aloofness and reserved demeanor melted away whenever the puppy was around. He would find himself laughing more often, his icy demeanor replaced by a softer, more carefree attitude
✦  He seemed to forget his own troubles in the presence of the puppy's innocent exuberance. Late-night strolls become a regular occurrence, with the puppy trotting alongside him, its paws pattering against the pavement.
✦ One day, Vere finds himself sitting on the floor, surrounded by a chaotic mess of toys and snacks. The puppy is sitting right in front of him, nibbling on a chewy toy and playfully tugging at one of his shoelaces. As Vere watches the puppy's antics, a sense of contentment washes over him. He realizes that he never had something so pure and real in his life before. The puppy doesn't care about his past mistakes or hidden truths. It simply loves him.
✦ “Ah, yes, this is my partner in crime. Don’t you dare touch it or not even Kuras will be able to heal you.”
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desiderio-dixon · 6 months
Text
Darkest Before the Dawn
Chapter 7 : I'd Rather Go Blind
Pairing : Daryl Dixon x f!reader (endgame), (unrequited) Glenn Rhee x f!reader
Series summary : When Glenn Rhee comes into your life, you become convinced he's a guardian angel sent by your late best friend. You think he's your soulmate. But then he falls for the farmer's daughter, and you find that your own angel may be a little more blatant than expected; wings and all.
Chapter summary : Leaving the CDC in the rearview mirror, the group faces further obstacles: A misunderstanding arises between the reader and Daryl, Sophia goes missing, tensions build between reader and Shane, Carl gets shot, and Glenn begins the heartbreak saga.
Chapter warnings : uhhh jealousy, heartbreak, misunderstandings, illusions to sex, shane being a creep, sophia goes missing, grief, lmk if I missed anything! <33
Word count : 2.8k
A/N : OKAY SO THIS ONE TOOK FOREVERRR I'm so sorry!! To be fair though, something super serious happened to a family member of mine so my life has just been absolute chaos the last couple weeks. BUT TRUST ME THAT I DIDNT ABANDON THIS FIC!!! Love u guys! (also there may or may not be a Dean spicy fic on the way to all those who voted yes to that poll I made hehe)
❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀
The next morning, you woke to a knock on your door. Groggy and hungover, you wrapped your naked body in blankets and stumbled to the door. You opened it to find Glenn, his head hung low and eyes sunken. He was equally, perhaps more, hungover. He made no effort to greet you, just groaned at you and pushed past into your room. He flopped himself down on your bed, face in the pillows. You sighed, leaving the door open and moving to sit on the bed, still only in a puddle of blankets.
"My head is gonna explode." Glenn cries out. You hum tiredly. Outside of the room you can hear everyone waking, wandering out of their rooms. Part of you wants to kick Glenn out and fall back into sleep. But you don't. You two sit quietly for a few minutes, you're certain Glenn has fallen asleep.
And then, there's a crinkle in your doorway. You look over, surprised to see Daryl. He stands, fully dressed and ready for the day, with a waterbottle clutched in his hand. He'd brought it for you, you knew that somehow. But you watched his gaze rake over your bare shoulders, and the onto the figure laid in your bed. He doesn't say anything, and neither do you. For some reason you feel like you've been caught doing something you shouldn't. He crouches down, setting the waterbottle in your doorway. And then he's turning, leaving.
The CDC is a blur after that. A blur of confusion, panic, anger. Screams and explosions. And an overwhelming loss. Jacqui died, Jenner and the sanctuary you thought you'd found went with her.
You'd never seen something explode like that. What was once there, simply wasn't anymore. No longer an impressive and futuristic building, but a mess of fire and ash. It shook everything. The ground, the air, even your insides felt like they were vibrating within you.
You weren't even sure whose car you'd piled into, simply just eager for cover, but you'd realized too late that it was Daryl's truck, and this was going to be an awkward ride. Though, neither of you said a word. Not about the drunken conversation you'd shared, or him seemingly finding you and Glenn in bed together. There's an air of shock that only silence seems appropriate for. Still, when the caravan stops due to the RV hose again, you break it. Digging into your back pocket, you produce the crumpled pack of cigarettes. "Here, I, uh, found them. Figured you'd like them." Daryl grunts, slapping his hand over yours to grab the pack. Nothing else is said, so you both climb out.
The traffic build up seems to go on forever, cars for as long as you can see. Everyone drifts off into groups to scavenge through the cars. You end up by yourself, sorting through a mini van. The sight of the empty toddler car seat brings a sense of dread washing over your body. You try to shake it off. Surely there's a chance the baby lived, just moved on to another place.
You find a box on the floor, overflowing with clothes. Winter will come quicker than you think, so you begin to rifle through, looking for anything thick and comfortable. Instead, you find a pretty dress. A sundress, with wildflowers printed all over and a dipped neckline. You're not sure that it's something you'd have worn before, but something calls you to it. It's exactly your size. Something tells you to take it, even if it's not exactly practical. So you shove it into your bag.
Then you hear Glenn's laugh, an excited and relieved laugh. You decide you need a little joy in your life, so you seek him out. There, you find him and Shane, drenching themselves with water off a truck. "You guys not gonna share?" You tease. Glenn ushers you forward to stand under a spout, then he releases the cap. You squeal at the sensation, water soaking through your clothes. Your eyes are closed, enjoying the cooling sensation when a hand wraps around your wrist, yanking you to the floor.
You smell them first, the horde of dead stumbling through the traffic jam. You roll under the truck with Glenn and Shane, making panicked eye contact with each of them back and forth. Then you hear them, groaning and shuffling. And finally, you see their feet as they move past. Most of their shoes are muddied and falling apart, ankle skin falling off the bone like good barbecue. When it's finally passed, your heart shatters.
Where you expected silence, you found the cries of a distressed mother. Carol, screaming after Sophia. You crawl out just in time to watch Rick run after her, Lori holding a sobbing Carol.
You want to pull her into a hug, hold her sorrow in your hands to take it off her shoulders. But you're soaking wet, and you're sure she doesn't need a cold on top of everything. You settle instead for a hand on her shoulder, telling her a gentle, "Rick will bring her back." You're not sure you believe it. You have faith in Rick, though you're not sure about Sophia. She's a smart girl, sweet like sugar, and you adore her. It's just that a scared adult is unpredictable, let alone a scared child. Still, you want to hope.
It's only a few minutes, maybe ten. Rick emerges from the forest and you wait with bated breath for Sophia to trail after him--but she doesn't. Carol's sob sends a lightning bolt right through your heart.
Rick gathers a few people up to go look for her: Glenn, Shane and Daryl. While they gather up their things, you stand with Glenn. You feel eyes on you, heavy in their gaze. Turning, you find who'd been staring at you. Shane. He meets your eyes, and something about it turns your stomach. His eyes are dark, and he doesn't look away. You break the eye contact yourself, looking to your shoes.
"You okay?" Glenn asks. You hum, nodding your head. But truthfully, you can't shake the feeling of unease that has washed over you.
Then, just as everyone is geared up to leave, Daryl trots up to you. He tosses something at you. You catch it, unfolding it to reveal a flannel shirt. "Cover up a bit, huh?" He says, looking at you before his eyes flick to Shane. For a moment, you're confused. Then, you look down to your shirt--your soaked, white shirt that has now turned see-through. Your ears burn with a sudden rush of blood, and you hurry to throw on the flannel he gave you. It has the sleeves cut off, because of course it does. It looks ridiculous on you, you're sure, but it works well enough.
You stand, dumbfounded for a bit while the group pushes forward. Another one of Carol's sobs throws you out of your daze.
She stands, hands covering her mouth as sobs pour openly out of it, leaning against Lori. Lori has tears of her own streaming her cheeks, but she stares coldly ahead at the treeline her husband disappeared into. Although the sight of them squeezes your chest, it's the sight behind them that hammers the final nail into your heart.
Carl, a few feet behind his mother, looking sorrowful with tears of his own silently falling, but a determination in his eyes unlike any you'd seen. You walk to him, grazing your hand over Carol's arm gently as you pass. When you reach Carl, you pull him into a hug. His arms wrap weakly around you as you crouch, and he lets out a sob into your chest. "They'll find her. And if they don't--me and you will." You whisper to him, squeezing him tight.
It's not long before Shane and Glenn return. Glenn looks solemn, which quickly gives away that their leads aren't solid. Shane barks orders immediately upon return to search and move cars. You rifle through more cars, coming up mostly empty time after time. After an hour, you produced three items. A leather jacket, thick; good for winter and to stop bites. A box of granola bars, unfortunately your least favorite flavor. And an unopened limited edition Barbie.
The Barbie came from a car with no sign of children, and given how old it is, you assume it's someone's antique. You feel better taking it, given you don't think you're stealing from a dead child. It'll be nice for Sophia, you think. It's the exact thing you'd have loved as a girl. Big, poofy white dress with black polka dots and heaps of frill. A classic red lip and a pair of cute little heels. She's absolutely fabulous. You tuck her carefully into your bag, making sure to not dent the box.
As you weave through the cars to find your next hidden treasure, you spy Lori and Shane. The tension is thick in the air as they whisper-yell back and forth to each other. It's not hard to piece together the contents, despite you not being able to hear them. Surely it's about what once was between them, and what never can be now with Rick's return. Still, the sight sends bolts of unease through your spine. Especially with the way Shane slams his fist against a cars hood, fire burning behind his dark eyes.
You enter some beat down sedan, crawling into the drivers seat and letting your head drop down to the steering wheel. 'Please let Rick and Daryl come back safe with Sophia.' You think to yourself. You're beyond anxious, chest feeling as though a pile of rocks sit in your lungs. Moving on from this stupid highway with your group intact would be the greatest gift.
❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀
It's almost dark now, though the humidity still weighs down the air, thick and heavy. A thin sheen of sweat collects over your skin as you sit and wait. "Oh, God. They're back." Glenn says. Your heart leaps to your throat. Rick comes first, then Daryl, then... Nothing. No Sophia. Just as quick as your heart rose, it sank to your feet like an anvil.
"You didn't find her?" Carol squeaks, sounding small like a scared child.
Rick shakes his head, guilt written in the way his lips draw tight and his eyes drop to the floor. "Her trail went cold. We'll pick it up again at first light." You knew they didn't find her, but even so, the confirmation feels like a hammer bashing into your heart.
"You can't leave my daughter out there on her own to spend the night alone in the woods." Carol cries desperately.
Daryl glances to you, then the floor. Shaking his head, he responds. "Out in the dark's no good. We'd just be trippin' over ourselves. More people get lost." You know he's right. He's smart with these things, a natural. But you also know hearing this hurts Carol. Truthfully, it hurts you too. A part of you wants to stray from the group right now, tear the forrest apart until your hands are bloodied to find Sophia and bring her home to her mother.
But Daryl's right--so you stay.
The next morning is early, sun barely up. Dew slides over the morning grass, tickling your ankles as you all trudge through the forest. The air is damp and crickets chirp around you. It reminds you of early wakings during your school days as a child. Up before the sun so you could drown your stomach with sugary cereal before the bus called your name. It's nostalgic in such a bitter way. Sophia will never get that again, whether you find her or not.
The only two that hadn't come on the search were Dale and T-dog. Dale, to fix up the RV, and T-dog to rest. He'd landed himself a nasty gash on his arm during the herds passing. You're thankful Daryl was there.
Everyone else in the group, even including little Carl were gathered around you. Daryl, Shane, and Rick mainly led the charge-- but everyone was equal in effort of looking for signs. You'd lost count already how many times you'd crouched to inspect the dirt, trying your hardest to search for small shoeprints.
The search had been null, up until you found a campsite. Carol had called out, and you all held your breath in anticipation. When nothing came, Daryl investigated. Nothing but a man who'd been dead for a long while.
Now, you stare at Daryl. He's disappointed, maybe even frustrated. You guess he must feel pressure, feel that it's on him to do the tracking and finding. Your feet seem to move on their own, stalking towards him on shaky feet. He doesn't notice you coming, doesn't look up from his boots. But still, you reach a hand out, just mere moments away from touching his bare bicep--until the bells ring.
You freeze, catching Daryl's eyes immediately as he shoots up. And then, as if reality had snapped back into motion, you all run.
The church is a grim scene, the pews loaded with rotting corpses, staring lifelessly at the cross. When you swing the doors, they groan, turning and shuffling loudly across the wooden floors. The smell is overpowering. The air is thick with rot, moist and sickening.
It's fitting. Fitting to the soulless feeling of tearing through walker after walker, only to at the end be met with nothing but a pile of corpses; no Sophia in sight. Carol prays in front of the statue of Jesus, and you can't judge her for turning to faith in a time like this, but something about it turns your stomach.
How could a God allow a mother to be without her child? Suddenly, the air in the church feels like it's no longer air at all. You feel suffocated. You rush out, hand covering your mouth as a nauseous feeling rises. Falling to your knees in the grass, you huff breath after breath of fresh air. When will the constant loss end?
❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀
It's only a couple hours later when you're trudging through the forest, chatting with Glenn absentmindedly as Daryl leads your group back to the highway. And then, like a flash of lightning, a woman appears. The heavy thudding of her horse's hooves matches the rapid beating of your heart, and then she's yelling. Yelling that Carl has been shot. Then, you feel as if your heart stops at the same time the horse skids to a halt. He's stable, she says, but it's still a weight you're not sure you can handle.
You want to cry, to collapse, to give up. You want to curl into someone and share in your sorrow. When you turn to Glenn, your stomach swirls in sickness at his expression. Well, perhaps not the expression alone, but that the expression isn't being sent to you.
There, frozen in place, he stands. Awestruck eyes gazing up at the woman on the horse, jaw open. Your eyes fly between the two of them, time moving in slow motion. You can't even blame him. She's beautiful. Big, green eyes wide in urgency, tan skin slick with sweat, shining in the sunlight.
You can't blame him--but it hurts so bad.
❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀
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@celtic-crossbow @scudslut @itwasntaphasema @ryoujoking @i-wear-wet-socks313 @daryldixmedown @duffmckagansbandana @secretsicanthideanymore
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sunny44 · 1 year
Text
I’m home
Pairing: Mason Mount x mom!reader
Warnings: none, just cute stuff
Summary: Mason comes home for his girls after being away for a while.
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I had been away for a month now, I had a few games in a row and a lot of training.
And now I was coming home missing my wife and my daughter.
Sophie Isabel Mount was the sweetest little girl of all, she was daddy's little girl for sure.
Y/n and I have been dating for four years, after two years of relationship we found out that she was pregnant.
At first it was terrifying, we were certainly not prepared for it.
It was something that we wanted eventually but not at the time it happened.
The first few days it was strange, Y/n did the pharmacy test and it was the only result we had at the time, so until we actually went and saw the ultrasound it was like it wasn't real.
Y/n by the time she saw the ultrasound immediately started to cry, I was still ecstatic and it didn't really hit me until that same day, but was in the middle of the night.
I was rolling around in bed unable to sleep, I spent most of the night imagining myself being a father, how my sister always told me that I would be a great father, especially if it was a girl.
The good thing about my sister having Summer was that I could practice changing diapers and get more or less a sense of what it would be like.
And that's where I burst in tears, Y/n woke up scared by the fact that I was crying at three in the morning and that's where I told her it was because we were having a baby.
As soon as I opened the door to the house, I took off my sneakers and changing to my flip-flops and putting my training things on the floor.
“I'm home” I said out loud and then I heard fast footsteps running through the house.
“Daddy” she screams and I bent down to her height taking her in my arms “I missed you”.
“ I missed you too sweetheart”.
“You took a long time to come back”.
“I know baby, sorry for that” she hugs me tight.
“I don’t want you away never again.” She says.
“I know baby and I’m sorry for that, your going everywhere with me now. I’m putting you in my suitcase.” She starts laughing.
“And what about mommy?”
“We can bring mommy with us.”
“Ok then.” She says and kiss my nose with her nose “Can we go to the park with Malcolm?”
That is the name of the golden retriever we gave her when she was a baby, they are best friends.
“Yes we can, where's mommy?”
“She is outside, we are bathing the flowers.
Sophie and Y/n had a garden in the back of the house where they took care of the flowers, there were many flowers and even some vegetables.
It was one of the activities my girlfriend does with our daughter, she made a whole schedule of activities for the week to develop her creativity, and also because it is one of the few things that keeps her mind off from thinking too much about me since when I am away she cries a lot because she misses me.
“Let's go see mommy then" I took her in my lap and we went to the back.
And there she was, barefoot on the grass, wearing a loose flowered dress and some waves in her brown hair.
“Hi love” she dropped the hose on the ground and came to me “I missed you so much”.
“I missed you too” I kissed her.
“Ew” I laughed with my lips still close to hers.
“Ew what, young lady” I said, patting her belly “Let's finish helping mommy to bath the plants and then we can go to the park and walk with Malcolm.
“And then pizzaaaaaa”. We shouted in celebration and went to bath the plant.
And I was more than happy to be home.
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Bonus scene!
Masonmount instagram post
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Liked by @Debbiemount, @Y/nmount, @Reecejames and others 817208
Tagged: Y/nmount
Masonmount there’s nothing better than coming back home and seeing my girls bathing their flowers 🌸
@Y/nmount you should bath the flowers with us next time
@Masonmount I need a baby boy to play football with me, what do you say?
@Y/nmount maybe yes, maybe not
@Debbiemount oh I love those cute faces
@Y/nmount we love you too granny debs
@reecejames you have to bring her to training
@masonmount I won’t because she forgets about daddy when she sees her football uncles
@lovelymase we love baby mount so much, they both look very cute
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rxmqnova · 1 year
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Hi, could you write something with Wanda and reader, both of them being werewolf. Yn doesn't trust the avengers too much but Wanda does, so they joined them.
Wanda is the same person when she transformed but Yn doesn't. Yn is quieter but wanted to play a lot and trust them when they transformed and very protective, always around Nat and Wanda, Thor, Yelena and Kate. They liked when she is a werewolf because she doesn't care too much about anything. She bites a bit, but always playfully and gives them something to play.
Playful
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Y/N: 22 years old Wanda: 22 years old ——————————————————
NO ONE'S POV "Wands, I don't know" Y/N sighs, flopping down on the couch next to her girlfriend.
Wanda and Y/N have known each other since childhood. The two have been through everything together… Y/N's parents death, Wanda's parents death, then Pietro's death and even their first ever transformation into wolves.
Yes, Wanda and Y/N are werewolves. The girls were scared at first and had no idea what to do. After all, they were only 16 when it happened for the first time.
They learned how to control it over the years though and now their favorite thing to do is running around the forest in the middle of the night.
"I know it's scary. We've always had only each other and I really enjoy being only with you… But having some friends can't harm us. And we can help to save other people" Wanda says, holding her girlfriend's hands and hoping Y/N would agree. "We can always leave if we won't like it"
"… Fine" Y/N sighs, giving in. "But if we don't like it, promise me we'll just leave and live together in a little house in the forest like we've always wanted" Y/N says, looking Wanda in the eyes.
"I promise" Wanda smiles and leans in to peck her girlfriend's lips with a kiss. "Thank you"
———————————
And that's how the two ended up joining the Avengers. Y/N still isn't exactly happy about it, but Wanda is. And when Wanda's happy, Y/N feels happy too.
Y/N found her small group in the Avengers where she feels comfortable. Of course Wanda takes number one place, she's her loving girlfriend and Y/N loves her more than anything.
Then there are Yelena and Kate. Both absolutely love playing around with Y/N when she's in her wolf form. Plus the three are really good friends and somehow always get in some kind of trouble which drives Wanda and Natasha crazy.
That brings us to Natasha who would be another person Y/N feels comfortable with. The redhead still has nightmares from the Red Room and Y/N helps her with it just by being with her. The Black Widow seems tough, but there's nothing she loves more than when Y/N's in her wolf form, resting her head on the assassin's lap while she's running her fingers through the wolf's soft fur.
This group wouldn't be complete without Thor. He never resists the cute puppy eyes Y/N gives him and always shares some of his food with the wolf underneath the table. Wanda's always quite annoyed by it, but she knows damn well that she can't resists Y/N's cute puppy eyes either.
"Wandaaa, I'm booored. Come play with meee" Y/N whines, pulling her girlfriend out of their bed. She's been feeling super playful today, but Wanda's in the exact opposite mood.
"Y/N, I'm tired. You kept me up until like 4 am. I want to sleep" Wanda sighs. The girls spent the night in the forest again and went to bed really late.
Y/N groans, leaving the room and transforming into her wolf form. She feels more comfortable like that whenever she's upset.
The upset wolf makes her way over to Natasha who's currently filling up some mission reports in the living room.
Y/N walks over to the couch Natasha's sitting on, putting her head on the redhead's lap.
"Hi there, Y/N/N" Natasha smiles, running her fingers through Y/N fluffy fur. "What got you so upset?" She pouts, looking at how quiet her wolf friend currently is.
Y/N runs for the ball that she spotted in the living room before running back and placing it on the ground, nudging Natasha's leg with her head.
"Oh. You want to play" Natasha chuckles, Y/N waving her tail in response. Natasha picks up her phone, leaving Yelena a quick text. Natasha loves playing around with Y/N, but she really has a lot of mission reports to fill up. Knowing her sister, Yelena doesn't care about some papers, so she'll definitely have time to take Y/N on the garden.
"Y/N/N, come here! I heard someone wants to play!" Yelena calls from the door frame, squishing Y/N's favorite toy on which Y/N immediately runs up to the blonde, happy that someone will play with her.
Yelena takes Y/N out on the garden and runs around with her, throwing her branches they found on the garden and just playing. The pair is soon joined by Kate who saw them from the window and decided to join her two friends.
About two hours later, the three girls are laying on the grass, Y/N back in her human form and they just laugh about some silly things that come into their minds.
"I don't know how about you, but I'm pretty hungry and something's telling me Thor's just making himself some snack, so I'll go to check that up" Y/N says, standing up, Kate and Yelena following.
They walk back to the kitchen and as Y/N thought, Thor's sitting at a table, eating his big snack. She sneaks behind him, stealing one of his pop tarts and running away, ignoring Thor's calls. She knows he'd end up giving her some anyway as they're really good friends.
"Oh. Wow. Slow down" Wanda chuckles, spotting her girlfriend running towards her.
"Oh. Hi, Wands. Did you have a nice nap?" Y/N asks with a smile, hiding her pop tart behind her back.
"Yeah. What do you have there?" Wanda asks with a raised eyebrow, trying to look behind her girlfriend's back.
"Nothing" Y/N responds, moving around, so Wanda couldn't see anything.
"If it's nothing then why don't you just show me? Are you afraid you'd have to share food with me?" Wanda asks teasingly, raising her eyebrow again.
"Hm. No?"
"Yeah. Sure" Wanda smirks, slowly walking behind Y/N which makes the girl think she's free of this conversation.
Y/N isn't the only one in a playful mood now though. Wanda sneaks behind, ripping the pop tart out of Y/N's hand and running away. "Thanks, babe!"
"Hey! Get back here! That was mine!"
----------------------
I wasn't exactly sure about how to write the werewolf stuff, but hopefully it's not that bad...
I hope you enjoyed reading it!!
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crazylittlejester · 6 months
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Mask is tired or has a bad day, so he wanders over and rests his head in Warriors' lap. Warriors just starts petting him and doesn't miss a beat.
Tune sees this and decides he wants to nap with Warriors too. Warriors still doesn't miss a beat in what he's doing.
Eventually, he is under a hero pile and doesn't understand how it happened.
I dunno if this was for the mini fic thing or if you’re just sharing this idea but I love it and I wrote a little somethin’ for it :)
Here you go! (364 words):
Mask flopped around, trying to get comfortable on his cot, letting out small grumbles as he did. He was exhausted and he couldn’t sleep, and today had sucked in every sense of the word. He was just glad they’d had half a red potion to spare, his arm was wrapped up as it was, giving it a little extra support in case the break hadn’t fully healed.
The captain sat on the floor of their tent with his back against his desk, hunched over his journal and furiously writing out plans, his brow furrowed in concentration. Mask hated being treated like a child, and he knew Link would probably make a comment about it if he went over and sat by him, but he was so tired and stressed out he didn’t care anymore. He pushed himself off his cot with a small groan and walked over to his brother, sitting down a few feet away from him awkwardly.
Link didn’t even notice, he just kept writing, so Mask decided to take a risk and lay down, resting his head on his brother’s thigh. Almost as if it were an instinct, a gentle hand rested on top of Mask’s head, and thin fingers began carding through his short hair. He felt the tension seep out of him immediately and he shifted around on the ground to get more comfortable. Mask’s eyes started drifting closed until a quiet thud sounded nearby.
He raised his head a little to find Tune had flopped down as well, leaning against Link and resting his cheek on the captain’s shoulder. Mask let his head fall back down in his brother’s lap, and it was that motion that startled Link out of his thoughts.
“Uh… W- What are you guys doing?” The captain asked.
“Sleeping, so shut up,” Mask yawned, smiling a little when Link’s hand dropped back into his hair.
“Shhhh, let it happen,” Tune mumbled. “Ye be needin’ yer rest too.
Link sighed, using his free hand to close his journal. “I feel like it would be more comfortable to get off the floor, no?”
He waited patiently for his answer, but Mask and Tune were already asleep.
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