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a-reader-and-a-writer · 2 years

Text

From the One Who Loves You

Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Robert "Bob" Floyd, f!reader

Word Count: 3118

TW: Fluff, Angst, Separated During Wartime, Character Death, Longing Notes: Thank you to @loverhymeswith for reading this over for me 🥰

This is a WWII AU containing a selection of letters sent back and forth between Lieutenant Robert Floyd and his fiance.

Written/inspired by @writer-wednesday

July 1942:

My dearest Bobby,

I was walking to work this morning and a small plane passed by overhead. I pretended it was you breaking orders and flying across the ocean to catch a glimpse of me even for just a moment. What I wouldn’t give to see you even for a few fleeting seconds. It has only been a few months since you shipped off to war, and yet it seems like a lifetime. Every day I miss you more than the previous day, to the point that I can’t imagine being capable of feeling a greater ache of longing in my chest. However, I wake up the next day to find that I was wrong. Please come home soon so this emptiness does not swallow me whole.

The only time I seem to feel any form of happiness anymore is when I receive your letters and photographs. It is wonderful to see the whole squad together and I am so relieved you all are able to make time for some form of fun amongst all of the horrors you must be facing. I placed the photo of you, Miles, Jake, and Bradley at the beach in the frame in the hall so I see it every time I walk by. It always brings a smile to my lips and I am glad you are surrounded by such good friends.

The places you are visiting look so beautiful! Maybe someday once all of this is over and there is peace again, you can take me to all of the places in your photos. Of course, I would be terrified seeing as I have never even left the state before. But as long as I was with you, I think I could be brave enough, though never as brave as you are. I know I have told you this countless times, but you truly are my hero, Robert Floyd. Stay safe and write when you can.

Signed, The woman who loves you

My love,

I would steal a plane this moment and fly to you if I thought there was even the slightest chance of getting a glimpse of your gentle face. I miss you more than words can ever say. Some days, it all seems too much for me and the thought of seeing you again is the only thing that keeps me going. The pictures you include with your letters are a Godsend and I stare at them every night before I go to sleep so my dreams are filled with only thoughts of you. Yet, they make me long for you even more. Seeing your face in black and white on a piece of paper is not enough. I need the smell of your skin, the brush of your fingers across my cheek, the taste of your lips….. Just the thought of it is nearly unbearable.

For our honeymoon, I can show you the world. Anywhere you want to go, just say the word and I’ll get us first-class tickets. Or we can lock ourselves in our apartment and not leave the bedroom for a week. As long as I can hold you in my arms, I won’t care where we are. Once the war is over and I come home to you, I will never leave your side again.

And my dear, please never doubt how brave you are. You have a strength and a courage unlike anyone else I have ever met. It is only because of your faith in me and your resilience during this difficult time that I have the courage to be over here fighting. Your constant support and love is what gives me the drive to face whatever happens and I can never repay you for that. But I swear to you that I will spend the rest of our lives trying to anyway.

Signed, The man who loves you

October 1942:

Sweetheart,

Today…. Today was not a good day. In fact, it was the worst I have experienced since leaving your side. We lost Miles. I tried covering him the best that I could but in the end, it wasn’t enough. I’ve never lost a wingman before and Miles was so much more than that. He has been like a brother to me since I joined the Academy. Watching him get shot down in front of me, unable to help him…. It is something I do not know if I will ever get over.

They have already assigned me a new wingman, a female pilot named Natasha Trace. I haven’t met her yet, but Ruben and Mickey know her from a previous assignment. They have nothing but fantastic things to say about her. While no one could ever replace Miles, I do hope the two of us can form at least some sort of level of trust or hopefully even a friendship. Though, the thought of going back into the sky without Miles at my side makes me sick to my stomach.

I need you so badly right now. I feel like I’m falling apart inside and I need you to help hold me together. Everyone else here understands – even Jake didn’t say anything when he walked in on me crying – but it’s not the same. I need you to wrap me in your arms, run your fingers through my hair, and whisper that it’s all going to be okay just like you always do when I’m upset. I need you, all of you. Words and pictures are not enough anymore. But it is still months before I will have the possibility of visiting home. I don’t know how I will survive without you until then.

Signed, The man who loves you

My dear, sweet Bobby,

I was so heartbroken to hear about Miles. He was such a kind, generous soul and I cannot fathom what you are feeling right now. That photo in the hall that once brought me such joy now brings me nearly to tears every time I see it, yet I can’t bear to take it down. How you deal with seeing reminders of him all around you all the time I do not know.

I wish with all of my heart that I could be with you for this, to help you deal with it, and it pains me to know how much you are hurting when I cannot be there for you. But I have included more photos and one of my scarves sprayed with my perfume. I don’t know if the fragrance will still linger on it when it reaches you but I pray that it does. Whenever you are missing me, hold it close and know that I am with you.

Hopefully, this Natasha is as skilled as you say. I need to know that your partner in the sky will be able to watch out for you until you can once again reach the ground. Knowing the danger you face has me constantly worried for you, but it wasn’t until I heard about Miles that I think it really hit home the reality of the situation. Understanding it is possible is one thing. Witnessing it happening to someone you care for is another. Please, Bobby, I beg of you, be careful and come home to me. Come home and make me your bride as you promised.

Signed, The woman who loves you

My love,

I have slept with your scarf wrapped around my hand every night since it arrived. It shouldn’t be possible, but I swear I can still smell your perfume deep within the fibers. Maybe it is just wishful thinking, but regardless, it has brought me much comfort in these miserable times.

Every day when we take off, fewer of us come back and I thank God when my feet touch the ground once more. My squad has been very lucky so far and we haven’t lost anyone since Miles, though there have been many close calls. Only yesterday, Javy nearly crashed nose-first into the ground but he was able to right his plane at the last second and narrowly escaped a fiery death. Last week, Bradley and Captain Mitchell were cornered by an enemy plane but Jake managed to swoop in and save them just in time.

While Miles will never stop being my wingman in my heart, Natasha has proven time and time again that she has my back and she is everything they said she was and more. We became close friends almost instantly. You would love her. She is just as snarky and sarcastic as Jake while also being as level-headed and strategic as Bradley. She fit right in with the rest of the squad and despite everything that is going on over here, I feel safe knowing she has my back. Just as I know you have my back…. and my front… and my heart…. and all of me.

Signed, The man who loves you

December 1942:

Merry Christmas Bobby!

I hope this makes it to you before Christmas Day. I made sure to send it early just to make sure. It has been snowing here the past few days so it seemed like a sign I should go ahead and send it now. I have also included a tin of my famous chocolate chip cookies and I tried to make enough for the whole squad (but only if you feel like sharing). Everything is beginning to be rationed again and I almost didn’t have enough eggs, but I was able to borrow two from Mrs. Benjamin down the hall. I just hope they are still edible by the time they reach you.

Christmas was always my favorite time of year, but I am almost dreading it this year. How can I be cheerful and merry without you here with me? Your family invited me to spend the day with them, but I think that would only make me miss you more. There would be a Bobby-sized hole present at all times and I cannot face that. Better for me to sit only at the apartment where I can miss you without having to put on a brave face for anyone else. Maybe we can have a belated Christmas when you return, just the two of us. I’ll make sure and save some mistletoe for the occasion.

Signed, The woman who loves you

My Christmas Angel,

Merry Christmas! You cannot believe my surprise and delight in receiving not only your letter but also your cookies. Even a little stale, they still taste like Heaven on Earth. Truthfully, I considered hoarding them all for myself, but in the end, I couldn’t deny the squad the pleasure of your baking. That was a mistake. They devoured them in moments. Luckily, I had already stored a few away fearing this possibility. Ruben and Mickey almost came to blows over the last one, and I think it is the first time I have ever seen those two so much as disagree. But that is the power of your cookies.

I gently nibbled on mine for a few days trying to make them last as long as possible. Tasting them, I almost felt like I was back in the kitchen and if I just turned around, you would be standing at the oven with a fresh batch in your hands. I don’t think I have felt that close to you since I left. Please send more of your baking when time and rations allow. I want to feel that closeness once more.

We have only had the lightest of snows the other day, but it was just enough for Bradley to nail Jake in the head with a snowball. It took Javi, Nat, and myself to hold Jake back from lunging at him, but he calmed down once the ice in his jacket melted. Of course, that didn’t stop him from dumping a container of ice water on Bradley when he was getting out of the shower. The chase and tackle that followed was something to behold (though a scene not suited for your eyes).

I am trying to find these moments of joy and laughter to cling to, but I am dreading Christmas just as much as you. This will be the first time we are not together on that day since I first asked you to dinner all of those years ago. But the thought of a belated Christmas together is just the thing I need to help me make it through into the new year…. The year I get to be with you once more. But until then, know that my heart and my head will be with you on Christmas day, just as they are every other day. Please celebrate for the both of us, my sweet.

Signed, The man who loves you

April 1942:

Bobby,

I ran into your mother and sister in town today (they miss you almost as much as I do). They were asking me once again if I had made any more decisions about the wedding. I know I need to – your leave will be here before we know it – but I can’t force myself to make plans. We were supposed to do this together. What if I pick out the wrong thing? What if you don’t like the location or the color of the flowers or the dresses? What if I ruin our day because I make it all about what I want? I so want this to be a day both of us will remember fondly for the rest of our lives, but how do I do that without you here with me to help?

Sometimes I think we should wait until after the war to get married. After you come home for good and we can plan all of this out together. But that thought never lingers in my mind for long. I cannot wait to become your wife and another few months already feels like an eternity as it is. While I pray that this war will be over soon, it realistically may last for many more years and I refuse to wait that long to be married to you. So, one way or another, I will become Mrs. Robert Floyd the next time we meet. Even if that means the ceremony isn’t one either one of us will be happy with. I have to keep telling myself it’s just a day after all, then we have the rest of our lives to be happy together. And I know we will be happy together.

Signed, The woman who loves you

Sweetheart,

We could get married in the middle of the undecorated apartment wearing nothing at all and it would still be the greatest day of my life (and it would also save me the trouble of undressing you later). I love that you want to wait for me and if I had my way, I would hold your hand as we made each and every decision together. But that’s not possible at the moment.

So, how about this… I would like to wear my dress blues if possible, and maybe the flowers could match? I don’t care what kind. For the location, I just want it to be somewhere that will hold all of our family and friends. Beyond that, it doesn’t matter to me. And if you don’t let my sister talk you into allowing her to wear something inappropriate for the occasion as she did for our engagement party, I don’t mind what everyone wears. And even if I was there, I wouldn’t want to see your dress until the day of. It’s bad luck for the groom to see it beforehand, or so my mother says.

But as you mentioned, it is just a day in the end. Whether everything is perfect or a complete disaster, as long as it ends with you as my wife nothing else matters. So, do what you have to do and I will support your decisions completely. My only non-negotiable request is that we set the date as close to my return as possible. I plan on spending the entire time I am home celebrating with you. You won’t leave my sight for a single moment.

Signed, The man who loves you

November 1943:

My dearest husband,

I can’t believe it is only two weeks since you left me again. It already feels like an eternity. But at least this time, I have a ring on my finger and your last name to keep me company. I still can’t believe it’s real. We are actually married and it was all more perfect than I could have dreamed. Now our lives together can really start.

Someone at work mentioned that house over on Maple that you love so much might be going on the market soon. Is it crazy I want to inquire about the price? It would be such a lovely place to raise children and grow our family. There is even a backyard for that dog we have always talked about. But it would also feel so empty just living there by myself, so you need to hurry home to keep me company.

For a few days shortly after you left, I thought we might have started our family earlier than expected, but it turned out not to be the case. Though I wouldn’t have been surprised if it was true considering what we did those nights after the wedding. It was more of a disappointment than I realized it would be when I found out I was wrong. But I had let my mind run away from me and I began to dream of our future before I should have. However, just the thought of you as a father makes my heart soar. I guess we will have to try again as soon as you get home. Please let that be soon. But until that time, remember that you carry my heart with you always.

Signed, The woman who loves you

Mrs. Floyd,

With the deepest condolences, we regret to inform you that your husband, Lt. Robert Floyd, was killed in action on November 11, 1942, in the performance of his duties and in service to his country. His body was recovered soon afterward and further instructions on its return to you will be forthcoming.

He was shot down protecting the other members of his squad from enemy fire and he died a hero. His effects will be shipped back to you including those found on his person: his glasses, a wedding ring, a scarf, and a stack of photos.

Please accept my heartfelt apologies. Bob was a good man.

Captain Pete Mitchell

Taglist: @loverhymeswith, @babblydrabbly, @mayhem24-7forever, @11thstreetvigilante, @merlehs, @green-socks, @sunshineflowerchild789, @shanimallina87, @topguncortez, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @hederasgarden, @callsign-phoenix, @wildbornsiren, @lt-natrace, @the-untamed-soul, @inglourious-imagines, @airhogger, @piscesvancouverite, @straightforwardly, @bonnieelizabethparker, @srry-itshockeyszn, @flyinlove, @fandomhopped, @sweetheartlizzie07, @yjwnoot, @wanderdreamer, @callsign-fox, @imjess-themess, @joalsglasses, @curlyolly, @nobody7102, @footprintsinthesxnd, @thesewordsxlibrary, @double-j, @phoenix1389, @some-lovely-day

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a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all · 2 years

Text

From the One Who Loves You

Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Robert "Bob" Floyd, f!reader

Word Count: 3118

TW: Fluff, Angst, Separated During Wartime, Character Death, Longing, Hurt/ Comfort

Notes: Thank you to @loverhymeswith for reading this over for me 🥰

This is a WWII AU containing a selection of letters sent back and forth between Lieutenant Robert Floyd and his fiance.

Written/inspired by @writer-wednesday

July 1942:

My dearest Bobby,

Signed, The woman who loves you

My love,

Signed, The man who loves you

October 1942:

Sweetheart,

Signed, The man who loves you

My dear, sweet Bobby,

Signed, The woman who loves you

My love,

Signed, The man who loves you

December 1942:

Merry Christmas Bobby!

Signed, The woman who loves you

My Christmas Angel,

Signed, The man who loves you

April 1942:

Bobby,

Signed, The woman who loves you

Sweetheart,

Signed, The man who loves you

November 1943:

My dearest husband,

Signed, The woman who loves you

Mrs. Floyd,

Please accept my heartfelt apologies. Bob was a good man.

Captain Pete Mitchell

Taglist:@nik2blog, @dumb-fawkin-bitch, @shirley2996, @luckyladycreator2, @valoraxxx-blog, @m3laniehearts, @autumnleaves1991-blog, @rule107, @vintageleather, @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak, @slutforadambanks, @americaarse, @reneki, @ynbutbetter , @sugarcoated-lame, @imagineadream, @sadpetalsstuff, @salty-thembo, @rachelizabethgraham, @duckandrobin, @queenbbarnes, @grincheveryday, @uselesslyromantic, @choochoo284, @littlebadariell, @blue-aconite, @thescarletknight2014, @jamesbuckyburns, @a-sweet-little-fangirl, @happyblogstuff, @randomlifeunit, @boringusername3, @lclove2012-blog, @3tabbiesandalab

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upsidedownwithsteve · 2 years

Note

hey emmy! i’m currently procrastinating like a total dumbass but after seeing the idiotic messages people are sending you again i just felt the need to write you a little something something.

for one, i will never in a million years understand why people are just generally disrespectful towards you because your fantastic work is getting the appreciation it deserves. do they just enjoy being bitter or something? do they find pride in being “quirky” and “not like other girls” for hating on your rightfully popular works? or maybe they just can’t seem to conceal their jealousy and decide to be asshats through anon messages? like, seriously, if you’re gonna say some bullshit like that, say it with your whole chest and don’t be a coward!

but anyways, moving away from the negativity; emmy, you have raw writing talent and i’d be pissed if you DIDN’T share your works with us on this website. you’ve somehow managed to incorporate simplicity alongside such incredible detail in your fics and blurbs and it just makes reading your works that much more of an amazing experience.

i often find myself unable to read certain texts because of the techniques and layouts some authors use, but the way you incorporate imagery and repetition (alongside many more that i can’t seem to remember the names of atm) honestly makes reading what you create so fun.

i love reading your stuff and how you portray steve and eddie is such a breath of fresh air (and might i say scarily accurate? i think that you, along with @hellfirewhores and @1986harrington are some of, if not the best people on here who write them.). you put so much time and effort into what you do and the hours you spend researching and planning are seriously paying off.

i, myself, am a writer (on wattpad, unfortunately) and you’ve inspired me so much and have helped me without even knowing it. recently i’ve been receiving a lot of support and love from my readers and close friends on my works, saying how i’ve significant improved over the past few weeks and it’s all thanks to you. and i know you’ll probably say something to keep yourself humble and that i don’t owe you any credit for my success, but i honestly do.

even outside of writing and just in life in general, i felt stuck for a while and lost all motivation for quite some time, but stumbling across your page helped me find my spark that i was sure wouldn’t come back.

hell, you’ve even got me considering posting on this awfully frightening site, which is, oddly enough, an almost impossible task since ive been avoiding it for years. (but then again, maybe turning 18 has me going all topsy-turvy.. who knows! adulthood, amirite?)

all in all, you are such an important part of this fandom and i truly hope you know that! i seriously could not imagine what the hell i would be doing in my spare time if i didn’t find you when i did, and you’ve made some of my days just that little bit better.

fuck all of those jerks who think you’re undeserving of the praise and attention you receive because to put it plainly, you just do.

have a great rest of your day! much love! <3

from anon ali :)

Ali!

You absolute sweetheart, I was smiling the entire time reading this, you’re so lovely, thank you so much! I don’t even wanna touch on the salty anons because you’ve made me so happy by being so cute.

Thank you thank you thank you’re being so complimentary, seriously you’re far too kind! But thank you (again) for reading never mind writing out something like this! 🥹

I’m incredibly honoured to even be considered someone that’s helped you with your own writing, honestly, it’s so sweet of you to say that and I hope you’re writing is going well! (You should definitely start posting on tumblr I’d love to read it).

And once again, because I can’t say it too much, thank you! You’re so lovely and so kind and you’ve made my day. I hope you have a lovely day or night 🧡🧡🧡

#tears #wow #ask

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taleasnewastime · 3 years

Text

Give me love

Summary: You’ve never said the words to him before, but you’ve never felt them as deeply as you do now, lying in your bed and watching him scold you for leaving the front door unlocked. The words slip out as you look at him, unable to hold them back, and Jin proceeds to show you just how much he returns the feelings.

Pairing: Seokjin x reader

Genre: pwp; smut; fluff; 18+ rating.

Word count: 6.1k

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, nipple play, oral (m & f receiving), unprotected sex (it’s assumed/implied these two are in a serious relationship and have already had this discussion), fingering, teasing, slight talkback.

Authors Note: Happy Monday, here’s something to help try and get us all through this coming week. You’ve got this. This is loosely inspired by the song Kiss Me by Ed Sheeran (but named after the song give me love). It is pwp, but it’s soft as hell, I always seem to write Jin soft, but who can blame me? Anyway, enjoy!

I'm downstairs.

The message appears at the top of your screen as you lie on top of your covers. You click it before it can disappear off your screen and type out your reply.

Come up, the door’s unlocked.

A simple eye roll emoji is the only reply you get as you click back on Instagram and continue your scrolling. He is going to tell you off, you know, but it is easier to just leave the door unlocked rather having to get up from your bed just to open the door for him. Plus, nothing bad has happened from you leaving it unlocked yet. You only did it when you knew Jin was coming over anyway. Jin liked to remind you that that wasn’t the point, just because nothing bad had happened yet didn’t mean nothing would happen. Much like the emoji he sent you, you rolled your eyes at him.

It only takes a few minutes for the unmistakable noise of the front door opening, closing and then the lock clicking into place. You roll your eyes even as a smile comes to your lips at the sound. Your eyes stay focused on your phone overhead as you hear Jins near silent steps heading to your room. They stop when he presumably reaches your door, but you still don’t look at him.

“I could literally be anyone.”

You close your eyes, biting the inside of your mouth to try and stop the smile coming to your lips. He is being deadly serious, you know, and laughing at him in this moment would not help the situation – you'd done it once before, and you got a lecture so long you considered recording it and submitting it to your local uni to see if it would be useful for them.

“How was your day Jin?” You say, opening your eyes to look back up your phone, finger scrolling down the page but brain not taking in any of it.

“I’m being serious Y/N, you shouldn’t leave the door -”

“I know,” you cut him off, arm falling onto your bed, your view now of the ceiling. “I promise I’ll lock it next time.”

“That’s what you said last time,” he sounds exasperated, and you twist your head so that you can finally look at him stood in your doorway.

He looks particularly soft today. His broad shoulders showing even through the big, baggy jumper. His waist almost unnaturally thin in comparison, the belt around his blue skinny jeans doing everything to accentuate the fact. He looks like one of your favourite Jin’s today, hair un-styled, and though he has never been particularly vain, when you started to date him, he seemed to open up, show more sides of him and staring at him now, you can see one of these hidden sides. A side that it felt like was for your eyes only.

You jut your lips out into a pout, widening your eyes ever so slightly. His face remains hard as he looks at you and you realise this wasn’t going to be a battle so easily won.

“This time I mean it,” you try.

He steps fully into the room, taking the two strides so that he can loom over you still lay in your bed. You look up at him, lip still jutted out into a mock pout. And he looks down at you with the same hard face, though you can see it’s softening the longer he looks at you, cracks forming in his performance.

“You better,” he says.

“Or what?” You challenge.

“Or,” he pauses to think. “I’ll have to pay someone to come and make sure it’s locked all the time for me. That would get very expensive.”

You hum, lips curling at the edges. “Very threatening of you.”

His face finally breaks, an unmistakable smile forming on his mouth. “I’m a very threatening guy.”

He isn’t. He is literally the most unthreatening guy you have ever known. The embodiment of a puppy.

You and Jin were friends before you started dating, and have only been dating for four months. But in that time you felt like you have learnt so much more about him. Learnt that though he was a bit of a crack head around people, always seeming to be the centre of whatever joke was happening, he could also be sad and soppy when it was just the two of you. Though he was confident and seemingly self-assured around people, he had insecurities and could get into depressive moods when alone and in his own head. He could be loud and boisterous, but also calm and collected.

There were so many sides to him, and the more you’ve got to know him and those sides, the more you’ve realised how much you really truly like him.

But right now, he was being a bit of a pain in the ass. He was fiercely protective, which was sweet, but you lived in a secure apartment block, where anyone who got to your door would have had to get through the locked door to the street. Sure, maybe you should lock your door all the time, but you only left it unlocked when you knew he was coming, because it was easier for everyone.

“What you doing anyway?” He must see that the battle is lost, or at least over until the next time he comes round and finds the door unlocked.

“Just waiting for you to get here.”

“In a t-shirt and near non-existent shorts?” His eyes flick to your exposed legs as if to double check the fact. “Are you not cold?”

“Is this you asking if you can warm me up?”

The comment has the desired effect, his ears turn crimson almost immediately. For a man who goes round spouting about how handsome he is, he sure is easy to fluster.

“I can get you a jumper if you want it,” he says coolly. “And maybe some jogging bottoms?”

You roll your eyes and then stick out your arms out into the open air above you, an invitation. He doesn’t move, so you realise you’re going to have to be more obvious and state what you want.

“I just want a cuddle,” you say. “Lie down with me? You can warm me up.”

It doesn’t seem like he needs much convincing. He basically falls on top of you, his arms catching himself before he can crush you. Giggles escape your mouth as he moves around so that his body encompasses yours, his legs straddling you, his shoulders covering yours, his head resting so that his lips press against your neck and his heart rest against where yours is.

This is why this is your favourite Jin. Soft enough and calm enough to lie with you, to encompass you and keep you warm.

He lets out a huff of hair, the air tickling your neck and causing a few stray hairs to whirl.

“How was your day?” He mumbles against your skin, the vibrations from the words going through him straight into you.

“Good,” you reply.

“Is that all I get?” He continues to say the words into your skin. “Just good? Where’s all the sordid detail?”

You let out a laugh. “It was good. What’s wrong with good? Would fine be better? How about ok? Or maybe you’d prefer adequate? Or should I say -”

Jin lifts himself up enough so that his face is now looking down at yours, his head only an inch away from yours.

“Have I ever told you how much I hate you?” He cuts you off, a broad, toothy smile on his lips, fondness thick in his voice.

“My day was great thanks Jin. Long and boring and tyring, but just like every other day really. It was good,” you smile back at him.

“That’s better,” he replies.

“And how was your day?”

He hums, falling back down so his body is pressed to yours again, his mouth returning to the spot on your neck.

“It was fine.”

You slap his side, as he lets out a squeaky laugh into your neck, his whole body vibrating on top of you.

It’s at times like this that you feel it. You feel like you’re drowning in it. But you don’t know if you’ve ever felt it quite as strongly as you feel it now. As Jin continues to laugh, his body encompassing yours, you feeling like you’re drowning, your heart pounding, your head feeling light.

When the squeaking finally ends, and Jin settles back into some form of calm, assuming his previous position, you find yourself saying the words you’ve never said before, at least not to Jin, and never with this much assurance.

“I love you.”

Jin goes rigid and you automatically follow suit, suddenly not as sure about the words, or at least not as sure about saying them out loud. Slowly, so very slowly, Jin pushes himself back so that he is hovering over you. His eyes search yours, and as you look at him in the silence, the seconds seem to stretch into hours and you suddenly feel trapped under Jin and not safe.

“You ruined it,” your heart stops at the words. “I was meant to say that first,” and just like that your heart whizzes back into action, the effect making you feel like you might be having some sort of heart attack.

“You’re an idiot,” you whisper out.

“I love you too,” he finally says and then leans down to capture your lips in his.

You’ve kissed him so many times before now, but somehow this feels so different, as if the words have changed everything. His lips grasp your bottom lip, encompassing it the way his body is currently embracing you. He tugs it and then his tongue comes out to swipe the spot. As his tongue continues to move, trying to work its way into your mouth you pull away.

He looks down at you, a worried crease forming between his eyes, unsure as to why you broke the kiss.

“You’re such a twat,” you laugh. “I can’t believe the first think you said after I told you I loved you was that I ruined it.”

“At least it was memorable,” he joins in your laugh.

“Sure was, I am not going to forget that in a while. I also can’t wait to hold this over your head for a lifetime.”

“Hey, I said it back.”

“Eventually.”

“You can’t seriously be annoyed with me right now.”

“I’m not,” you crane your neck so you can press your lips lightly against his. “I just want to know what your plan was?”

“My plan?”

“You ruined it. I was supposed to say it first,” you do a bad mock impression of his voice. “Ring any bells?”

“You did ruin it,” he says and presses his lips back against yours. “I was supposed to say it in two days time when we go out for that meal I booked us.”

“You planned to say I love you to me like some sort of proposal?” You try to hide the smile in case he’s think you’re mocking him. You fail.

“It was going to be cute,” he whines.

“It would have been cute,” you reply.

“And you ruined it,” he continues in his whiney voice.

“Aw, I’m sorry baby.”

“I might be able to forgive you.”

“I love how this has somehow turned into my mistake, and not you saying I ruined it after I told you I loved you,” you reply flatly.

Jin leans down to press his lips back on yours again, a few short sharp pecks before he draws away to look at you.

“But you love me,” he says, the words coming through a wide beaming smile.

“I love you,” you confirm.

The beaming smile is still on his face as he falls into you, his lips move against yours and this time you don’t stop him as he moves to put his tongue in your mouth. You feel like you’re drowning all over again.

Jin moves his legs so that his knee is pushing your legs open, one of his legs taking the empty spot he creates in between your legs. The atmosphere seems to flip like a switch. He uses his weight and the leverage he has from being above you to grind down into you. Your core instantly heats, and you squirm slightly from the impact.

His lips curl into a cocky, knowing smile as you arch up into him, your mouth popping open. His lips move from your lips to your cheek, to your jaw and continue a path down your neck. He takes a pit stop by your ear just so he can whisper those three words you don’t think you’ll ever tire of hearing, especially if they’re said in his voice, and then he sucks a spot on the sensitive skin just below your ear. His teeth give the bruised skin an affectionate nip, before his lips continue downwards.

He eventually meets your top and he stops all movement, the leg causing pressure to build in your core stops. Before you can speak out Jin is talking.

“I think we should remove this, don’t you?”

He doesn’t wait for your confirmation. Fingers come to the bottom of your top and work their way under, lightly grazing the skin on your stomach. You show your willingness by lifting you weight off the bed to help him rid you of the material.

“Are you feeling warmer?” His voice is thick as he looks down at your naked chest.

“I could be warmer,” you reply and watch as his eyes flick between your chest and your eyes.

“Ok,” he says before dipping down, his lips enclose your nipple working it the same way he worked you lips.

You arch again, a small moan escaping your throat, which only seems to encourage Jin as his teeth nip your nipple and then his tongue swipes the spot to soften the spot. One of his hands move to your waist, keeping you pinned and still to the bed as you continue to whirl beneath him. He starts to move his hips down into you again, and you finally feel the bulge that’s growing in his pants.

His mouth swaps to your almost forgotten nipple, giving it the same treatment so that you know it’s not forgotten. The moans leaving your mouth are getting almost out of control, especially given the fact that all he’s essentially done is grind into you and kissed you a bit. You feel like an over excited teenager, but you don’t really care.

You use the purchase you can get on the bed to grind up into Jin, setting your feet flat on the bed so that you can get as much friction as possible. You’re too busy being focused on your own pleasure, the wetness pooling in your pants, Jins lips on your nipples, that you forget about everything else, become selfish in your own desire.

That is until Jin lets out a low, guttural moan. With his mouth on you and so much of his skin pressed to you, the vibrations go right through you.

You slump down onto the bed, pushing your hands up onto Jins broad shoulders.

“Stop, stop, stop,” the words come out as a breath as you continue to try and get Jins weight off you.

Either you pushing on him, or more likely your panicked voice, makes Jin lift himself enough to look down at you. Eyes wide, lips red.

“I – I need a second,” you stumble over your words.

“Ok,” he says lightly, easily.

He pushes himself so that his face is back level with your face. He pushes down enough to lightly press his lips on yours before retreating above you again. Body still there, but not in the same way as seconds ago, giving you the space you asked for.

“I think I might have gone a bit too hard on that one,” his eyes are focused on your neck and when his finger lightly presses the spot he’s looking at, a small blunt pain erupts in its place. “Sorry.”

“It’s ok,” you smile up at him.

“Because you love me?” The cocky smile returns.

“I’ve been questioning it every second since I said it,” you say as bluntly as you can though a smile still appears on your face.

“But you love me,” he says it in the same tone, not really a question but a cocky statement.

“Yes, you idiot. Unfortunately, I love you.”

You use the hands that are still resting on Jins shoulders and push so that you can flip him. He lets you do it, you wouldn’t be able to move him an inch if he didn’t help you. You both flip, clumsily, so that as Jin rolls onto his back you follow and flop onto of him. He lets out a huff of air on your impact, and then you both chuckle.

“What’s your plan now?” He asks from below you.

You shift to try and get some of your weight on the bed and not so it’s all on Jin. His hands hold your hips so that he can help move you. Finally, when your legs are either side of his hips, your hands either side of his head, you look down at him, a shit eating grin still on his face. Fondness, you think in his eyes as he looks into yours.

“Firstly, you’re wearing too many clothes,” your eyes flick down to the baggy jumper he’s still wearing.

“Go on then,” he challenges you, his hands still holding your hips.

He could make it incredibly hard for you if he wanted. He could make it so that you stood no chance of removing the garment. But it must show how much he wants it as he lifts his weight a fraction off the bed to help you. Neither of you comment on the fact as you drag the material up his body, the t-shirt he wears underneath coming up along with it.

Jin’s body always leaves you breathless. You remember the first time you saw the smooth planes of his chest, remember the way that although you hadn’t even done any foreplay yet, the wetness still pooled in your pants. The look of his bare chest now seems to have pretty much the same effect.

You don’t allow him to look at your wide-eyed awe for too long, you know it goes straight to his head and he gets almost insufferable with cockiness. He was on the verge of it now, and you know it won’t take much for him to be pushed over the edge.

You chuck his jumper off the bed without much thought and then dive down onto his chest much the same way he did to you moments ago. You suck and then bite his nipple before letting it go. Your tongue comes out and swipes a line all the way down his abs. Noting the hard ridges as you go down, pretty much unable to not notice them.

How did you ever manage to bag a man like this? How did you ever manage to trick this man into somehow believing he loves you? It all feels too much like a dream, too much like a fantasy, something you’re going to wake up in the morning to and find out was all fake. You don’t really care, it’s real now, and that’s all that matters.

You tongue reaches the edge of trousers and stops. Your head is still level with his crotch when you look up to meet his eyes. The cockiness has completely gone as you finding him staring back at you, in its place is pitch black desire.

“Next, these need to come off,” you say.

In much the same way his top came off, his trousers come off. Jin doesn’t move much, just enough to assist you in pulling the material down his legs. It’s jolty and definitely not sexy, but it’s done as quickly as you can. You attempt to pull his boxers off too, but they get twisted and tangled and Jin has to silently sit up so that he can help you take them off. Rather than lie back down, he shuffles backwards until his back hits the headboard. Under hooded eyes he looks at you expectantly.

It was going to be your next move anyway, but the expectation in his eyes makes you want to tease him just a little, makes you want to make him wait.

You crawl up the bed from the spot he left you. Lips attaching to the inside of his ankle, creating a trail upwards, much the same way you created a trail downwards earlier. You keep flicking your eyes upwards to watch Jin’s reaction as you wind your way up his leg at a devastatingly slow pace. To his credit, Jin just stares at you, the same fucked out look on his face, but he patiently waits for you. You would not have the same reaction.

It almost makes you stops, almost makes you give in and let him have what he wants, as if a treat for good behaviour. But you’re not that kind, and you’re in a teasing mood.

You move from the inside of his leg to the outside as you get higher, so when you get to that all so important spot, you miss it. You continue kissing your way up his chest, and finally Jin lets out a groan of frustration. You only smile against his skin as you continue.

“Babe,” he whines.

You ignore him. Kisses now reaching his neck. You debate giving him a matching bruise to yours, but decide to just keep going.

“Babe,” he says a bit firmer, hands coming to your waist as you shuffle into a more comfortable position now your faces are level.

“What?” You say as innocently as you can, acting as if you have no idea what his problem is. “I just want to kiss you.”

You lean forward and do just that but it turns out to be more of a peck; you too amused, Jin too frustrated to deepen it.

“Is this your idea of payback?” He pouts his lips at you and you lean in again to peck the spot again, unable to resist that face. “Because if it is, I am sorry, and I do love you.”

You hum, running your hands along his broad shoulders, continuing to dip down and place your lips on his in short sharp bursts.

“Say it again,” your whisper.

There’s a pause, as if he has to think hard about what it is you want him to say. “I love you.”

You hum again, deep and satisfied and Jins face transforms at the sound. The pout disappears and the deep desire and lust returns.

“I love you,” he whispers, leaning forward, his lips coming to your ear. “I love you,” he repeats, this time taking your ear in his teeth.

It’s funny how you and Jin have had such incredibly hot sex over the time you’ve been together. Have done it up against the wall in the shower, have done it half asleep after waking up, you’ve tied his hands to the bed post and ridden him, and he’s put you onto all fours and pounded you deeply into the bed. And yet you have never felt such euphoria as you feel now. He’s not even in you, is barely touching you, and yet him saying those three words might be enough to send you over the edge on their own.

As he continues to utter the words in your ear, you move one of your hands from his shoulder. You have to sit back an inch as you reach down, and the pre-cum leaking out of him is enough to not need any more lubricant. As soon as your hand wraps around him, Jins whole body stiffens, but you don’t give him any time to recover as you start to move your hand.

He’s obviously been as affected by this whole situation as you are as he goes silent, something that rarely happens. You lean back so that you can see his face, see for yourself how much you’re affecting him. It’s one of your favourite things about having sex with Jin, sure the feeling of him in you is insane, and the orgasms are incomparable, but this is unlike anything. Watching him in pure bliss because of you, watching him unable to function because of you, watching him relax and contort and spasm, all because of you. You often doubt why Jin is with you, he’s such a god of a man and it sometimes feels impossible that it’s all real. So in moments like these, you love to take it all in, love to remind yourself that this is a two-way thing, that all the feelings that almost pour out of you for him are all returned by him.

He also just looks incredibly hot like this. Eyes closes, head leant slightly back, Adam's apple bobbing, lips popped opened enough that you could poke a finger in there if you wanted to, sweat beading and running down his long neck. Yep, he looks so fucking hot.

You shift again, not content to just keep jerking him off. But as your hand keeps running up and down him, your body starts to move backwards enough to let you bend at the hip. It takes him half a beat to catch on to your plan, and then his hands are coming out to encompass your hips once again, stopping your retreat.

“No, no, no,” he struggles through the words, his voice raspy. “No, baby, I can’t take anymore, I’ll come if you keep going.”

“Isn’t that the whole idea?” You smirk at him.

“Well, yeah. But I was kind of hoping I’d be in you at that point.”

“Ok,” you say.

When you try to move back into his chest though, his hands on your hips hold strong. Just as you’re about to question it, he flips you both over. You’re mostly impressed that he doesn’t knock your head or his against the headboard as you’re both so close to it. But all thoughts are soon forgotten as Jin goes down to your pants.

Unlike you, Jin doesn’t need much help to get them off your legs. And unlike you, Jin doesn’t do much teasing. His hands move up the inside of your legs, pushing them open as his eyes focus solely on your core. You push your weight onto your elbows so that you can watch Jin, but you don’t last long as his fingers come into contact with your clit.

He draws figure of eights on the spot, and from all the teasing and lack of anything, the heat shoots all the way through your body. Head on the pillow below you, eyes now looking up at the ceiling, your mind becomes a buzz of nothingness, every part of you focused on Jin’s fingers and the patterns he draws in the bundle of nerves.

And because you can’t see him anymore, you don’t realise how his head is drawing in on you. Your body becomes tight with surprise as his tongue licks a strip through your folds, and then you instantly relax at the feeling.

His fingers continue their movements as his tongue toys with your entrance, and as has become the pattern tonight, he doesn’t tease the area for long. You instantly arch up into him as his tongue dips into you and he has to use his spare hand to keep you down.

“Fuck,” you curse into the air at the sudden onslaught of feelings, all centred around where Jin’s tongue plunges into you.

Your hand comes to Jins head, keeping him there doing what he’s doing as if scared he’s going to stop, though he’s given no indication that’s the case.

“Keep going,” you say.

Jin hums into you, keeping his mouth on you, keeping his tongue working in and out of you, keeping his fingers pinching and rubbing your clit. The vibrations of his hum drive through you, adding impossibly to the experience. And then his tongue moves and hits one of your walls and you feel the band within in you contracts and you know you don’t have long until you fall apart completely.

“Yes,” you encourage. “Just like that. Gonna come. Please. Please keep going.”

The words come out of you breathy and in non-sensical bursts. All you know is that you’re close and Jin has to keep going to get you there.

His tongue hits that same spot just as his finger pinches your clit and it’s enough. You moan out and spasm as you come. You’re vaguely aware of Jins lips smiling against your core as he retracts his tongue. He licks through your folds a few times, kisses your clit as his fingers fall away, stays down there until you are fully through your orgasm.

When you come back to yourself, you realise your hand is still resting on his hair and you give the strands a light tug to get him to come up to you.

He pushes his way up your body until his beaming smile is looking down at you. You lift your arms up to wrap around his neck and pull him down to kiss you. He tastes like you as his tongue slips into your mouth. He presses his body down into you so that you can feel his weight all over you, his length pressed up against your leg.

“Fuck, Jin,” you whisper when his lips pull away.

“Is that a statement or a question?” He chuckles, his breath mixing with yours from his proximity.

“Both,” you say before stretching your neck to press your lips to his.

He hums again. His hands work their ways down your sides, and even though you’ve just come your core starts to heat with anticipation. He’s slower this time, in no rush to get to you like he seemed to be when he ate you out, but you don’t say anything as his fingers drag down you.

His breath puffs into your face as he finally reaches his cock, he looks into your eyes as he works his hand up and down his length a couple of times, before he shifts himself so he’s situated at your core. He breaks eye contact long enough to look down between your bodies, watches as he pushes the head of his cock through your folds twice and then settles at your entrance.

He doesn’t push in, but looks back up at you. His eyes are still dark with desire, but somehow look softer as he seems to stare into your soul. Your heart stutters, and you realise that you do, truly, love this man.

He doesn’t say anything as he slowly pushes into you, doesn’t need to say anything as he bottoms out. He gives you a few beats to get used to him, his eyes flicking between yours the whole time, and then he’s moving.

It’s not fast, but it’s hard. A slow drag out of you, nearly so that he is fully out, only the tip left in, only to push hard back to the hilt. The movement comes purely from his hips, the top of his body still, his face still level with yours as he holds eye contact. It’s the most intense sex you’ve ever had. The best sex you’ve ever had, and it’s only just started.

He still doesn’t say anything as one of his hands grab the inside of your knees and drag it upwards. You get the hint, wrapping both legs around his waist as he continues to grind down into you. The new angle makes everything feel deeper, means that he hits completely different spots, and though it means he can’t drag himself out as far as before, it feels so much more intense.

You can’t keep his eye contact any more, your eyes fluttering shut on their own accord. The room is silent apart from the noise of your bodies meeting, the huffs of air leaving your mouths.

Jin increases the speed of his hips. His body moving heavier on top of you as he brings his head down next to yours, his lips take up the position from earlier, breath now hitting the side of your neck.

Moans start and die in your throat as Jin thrusts deep into you. His movements are short, his hips unable to move much as he essentially lies on top of you, but he’s hitting so deep you don’t care.

You realise he’s near his release as his movements start to speed up. His hips piston into you and he suddenly finds his voice.

“Come with me,” he says into your skin. “Come on. Come with me.”

You can only make non-sensical noises in return. While Jin always seems to find his voice when near his release, you lose yours. Your mind stops working, unable to find any word to speak back at him, only animalistic noises able to escape your throat.

“I love you,” it hits you differently in this moment. While earlier felt special, now the words sound euphoric, Jin must realise the effect they have on you as he starts to chant them like a mantra, his hips pumping to the fast beat he forms with the words. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

White bursts across your vision. Your body pulses and spasms and contorts as euphoria spreads from your core. You’re vaguely aware of noises filling the room, moans and unintelligible words that you aren’t sure are coming from you or Jin. You can feel Jin moving slower in you as he also reaches his high, feel his come spirting into you, feel his movements slowing, helping to work you through your orgasm.

He eventually stills after what feels like a lifetime. His body collapses on top of yours, his arms and legs taking the majority of his weight, but his skin covers every inch of you as his breath fans on the side of your neck.

“You’re crushing me,” you say eventually when he doesn’t move.

“Fuck, why didn’t we do that sooner?” He ignores you.

“What? You crush me?” You joke.

He gets the picture, lifting off you before pulling out of you. He looks between your bodies as he does, giving an appreciative moan as he watches his come spill out of you, and then he flops down next to you. He leaves an arm lying across your stomach though, as if he can’t quite give up the contact of your skin just yet. You both lie on your backs, panting, sweaty, staring at the ceiling in complete bliss.

“I should have said that from day one,” he finally says. “If I knew the sex was that good, I would have.”

You twist on to your side so you can look at him.

“Is that it? Are you just using me for sex?” You tease, smile on your face.

He twists on to his side so that he can look at you, arm still draped over your side, beaming smile on his lips.

“Yep,” he pops the p.

You lightly punch his chest, hard and smooth, the hit doing literally nothing even there was no heat behind it. His spare hand grabs your wrist while the hand over your side grabs your waist and he tugs you into him. You let out a surprised yelp as he twists on to his back, pulling you with him so that when you both stop moving, you’re on his chest with his arms are around you.

“I love you,” he says, all teasing gone.

You crane your neck to look up at him, your heart stuttering its rhythm even though this feels like the hundredth time you’ve heard the words this night.

“Say it again,” you whisper.

“I love you,” he says, meeting your eyes, hands squeezing your sides.

Yep, you definitely will never tire of hearing those words.

424 notes · View notes

lollypopsx · 3 years

Text

Flatmate!Harry: I'll Make It Up To You - Part 2

Please like if it’s not too shabby, reblog for anyone who may enjoy this and follow if you want to see more! Any suggestions are happily taken for future writing! I love you all! be safe and be kind x

Warnings: Hints of depression and anxiety

Part 1 - Part 3

—————————

Days had passed since the audition, and while you were sat on your laptop every hour searching for new jobs, new projects, more auditions and pure hope of some miracle, you couldn't help but starting to feel like you were failing slightly.

You liked to write happy songs and create stories using your music, but you were finding it harder to find the inspiration. Usually you and Harry would sit and talk ideas for hours, but since he made you miss your audition, you were distant from him, it was only the last day or two that you had been getting slowly back to normal.

Every day since the incident when Harry came home after working at the studio, he would open the curtains to make sure you had fresh air and daylight after cooping yourself up on the sofa all day, in the dimly lit living room. Not only that, he would check the cupboards, fridge and the sink to check that you were eating enough. He had seen you stressed and upset before. He had been there through some difficult moments in your life, and had always been your rock throughout the years, especially when your mental health was struggling during these times. But this time was worse. He couldn't help being concerned for someone he loved and cared for.

"Hey pumpkin..." He whispers softly, settling himself down beside you after completing his daily routine "Have you done much today?" he gently combs his fingers through your hair before dropping his arm round your shoulders.

You just sigh softly, looking ahead blankly at the quiet TV, simply shaking your head. If only he could see what was going on in that pretty mind of yours then maybe he could make everything better.

"I see you used the piano and the guitar today though..." he states, although it came out more like a question.

Minutes of silence filled the room until out of the blue, some words left your lips. "...Adam came to get the ring today" you whisper, feeling the tears brim your eyes once again, for what felt like the millionth time today.

"Oh darling" He frowns, pulling you into his chest tightly, just like he did the night you found out your (now ex-) boyfriend, Adam, was cheating on you. Unfortunately, you happened to find out minutes before he proposed to you, in front of all of your friends, including Harry. You didn't know what to do, so you took the ring, said you'd think about it and you left him standing alone. This all happened months ago, and you really thought that you was totally over it.

"Everything that's happened this week...I-I just...I feel like such a failure Haz. It just feels like I...I-I'm falling...falling apart and nothings going right! Why isn’t anything going right! I can’t even write one stupid song that makes sense" you let out hard sobs as your hands fisted his clean white t-shirt.

"No...no, no, no don't say that...please don't ever say that." He frowns, pulling away from you, but still staying close. His warm hands press against your cheeks as he lifts your face gently "hey, hey look at me" he whispers, begging you to look at him.

Your sad wide eyes flickered up into his, gentle tears falling down your face. "I know...I know it's hard at the moment. But everything happens for a reason. And everything will get better...I know it will. Do you trust me?" He whispers, his eyes gazing deep into yours, almost like if he looked hard enough, he could read your mind.

You give a hesitant nod as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead before wiping the tears dampening your cheeks. Being affectionate together wasn't anything unusual for the two of you, you really were the best of friends.

"I'll go make some dinner okay? Pasta sound good?" You just nod your head gently at him as he leaves your side. You let out a deep sigh and head over to the living room window, watching the sunrise beginning to set over the busy London town. "So...how's the studio going?" You ask him curiously, your gaze still at the window.

"I erm..." He clutters around in the kitchen. His job was a topic he had been avoiding for the last few days. He didn't want to rub it in that he was busy writing an album for millions of fans, who would be screaming his lyrics back to him all over the world in years to come. "It's...good. I mean, its tiring but I...yeah. It's good" He nods.

"H, you don't have to avoid it. I forgive you for what happened. I know you would never have done it out of spite...and you deserve your life style, you work hard!" You say as you head into the kitchen, re-filling the water in the vase on the table, your vibrant roses and lilies still looking as beautiful as the first day Harry bought them for you.

"You work hard too!" He frowns softly "Harry I don't think moping around on the sofa, drowning in my sorrows, is the definition of working hard" You let out a gentle chuckle.

"So...how's it really going?" You hop up onto the stool beside the kitchen counter.

"Well, we have 4 songs so far...and they are...different to the last album. I mean they reckon three of them will be on the pop charts...maybe even a number one slot there" He sighs softly.

"Oh wow, that does sound different to before...and you...don't want that?" You ask curiously, judging by the lack of excitement. "Well...it's not that. I just...it's hard to write another album when the last one did well, and you have to make sure it's better than the last one." He sighs softly as he cooks. "They want me to write some slower, more emotional songs. I just can't...well the words don't fit right. I'm just not feeling emotional about anything, so I don't know where to get the emotion from"

"Well you can't put a price on emotion Haz, you can't just go and buy it in Gucci. You have to really feel it. Even if you aren't thinking about something specific or direct to you. I used to find that sometimes when I was trying to write, I'd create these characters in my head, and I'd give them all these different stories and personalities. And I...I used that to really help me write music. It's not easy." You explain while getting two of the plates from the cupboard and pouring two drinks for the table.

"You used to? You mean you don't use that method anymore?" He asks curiously, while giving the pasta one final stir.

"I...I think I've decided that I'm not going to write music anymore" You shrug softly, your eyes unable to life to his. "I need a proper job. And things aren't going well with auditions lately and I make a total fool out of myself every time I go into a meeting. It's time I looked for a proper job. Besides, the price of bills in this house keeps going up and up."

"What?! Y/N you're so good at writing songs and music! You can't throw it all away now! That is your proper job. And I love hearing what you write, it inspires my own stuff!" He frowns, his brow furrowing, trying to understand you. "Think of all the songs no one will get to hear"

"No one hears them anyway...It's different now. The entertainment industry is changing more and more by the day. Maybe the stuff I write just isn't as trendy anymore." It was difficult for you to admit, but you knew you had to accept it.

"There's a fine line between us Styles, because the difference is, you're already there. You have the whole world in your hands Haz, you can go anywhere and do anything. You could sing a song to a fish and the whole world would be adored by you still! If I did something like that...I'd be laughed out of every interview, audition and meeting for the rest of my life. But we’ll be alright" You smile and shrug, your mood had certainly been hit and miss the last few days, but you knew you had to carry on with your life.

—————————

“Hey Y/N come here!” Harry calls from the living room. You were currently in your room, scrolling through your Instagram, while in a pasta coma after dinner. You rush over to the living room “What’s up?” You ask, seeing him sat at the gleaming white piano, which as always was sat under the window.

“What do you think?” He starts to play a few notes on the piano, looking between the scruffy paper notes cluttering the top of the piano and his hands.

“Can’t put a price on emotion...it’s something that you just can’t buy...you...you’ve got my devotion...but....but” He sighs softly, playing around with the notes and the wording on his notes.

You smile softly as you recognise his acknowledgment of your earlier conversation “...but man, I can hate you sometimes” you sing gently, testing to see how it could fit.

“Hey that’s mean! Why would you say that!” He fakes a pout up at you “I thought we- hey actually...you’re right! That really fits!” He chuckles, pulling you onto the stool beside him. “Can you try a G chord, B chord and....lets try a C...” You nod and smile as your fingers gloss over the keys effortlessly, while Harry fits the verse together and tries to find the right tempo.

“Wait...it doesn’t sound right. Maybe lets try a D instead of C?” You suggest as you re-try, playing those three chords over and over again.

“You...are...a genius!” He grins and wraps his arms around your waist. ”Keep going!” He smirks, pushing more lyrics in front of you. Sometimes having a fresh pair of eyes really helped...or perhaps he just wanted to prove that you had talent.

You peer down at the pages upon pages of words flooding your view. “...I don’t want to fight with you....and I...and I don’t like to sleep in the dark...we’ll get the drinks in...I...I can’t stop thinking of her...”

Harrys fingers join yours at the piano “We’ll be a fine line....We’ll be a fine line...”He smiles softly as he taps on a few random keys.

You pull your fingers away gently “It...your song sounds...really good H. It’s beautiful actually.”

“You mean our song...” He whispers.

“Harry no, it’s your song, all the pieces, I just put your jigsaw together” You smile. “I know how it is writing songs and the first draft is never the same as the final version. You might decide to change it all completely” You whisper.

“Not with your lyrical genius ability and words of wisdom...your name will be all over this track” You felt a shock of electricity ripple through your veins as you felt his eyes burning into yours. His lips pressed gently against your forehead, lingering against your skin longer than usual. That sort of affection was normal from your best friend...so why did it just feel like something completely different? And what did he mean about my name being all over the track?

—————————

Tag List: @harryhoney-bee - @sunandherflores - @sad-capuccino

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #one shot #hslot #flatmate!harry #roommate!harry #fine line #lollypopsx #fanfic #imagine #request #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #Harry styles fluff

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bokettochild · 3 years

Note

Request: Fairy Hyrule, Minish Four and Bunny Legend cuddlefic? Mostly because I love the idea of hugging a bunny ten times your size. THINK OF THE (literal) FLUFF AND SOFTNESS

So... I got a bit caught up in the WHY of them all being Small, and... this happened.

It all got deleted halfway through and I had to rewrite it from memory, but it turned out okay (although I don't like the flow as much this time through), bt it's... a bit long. This baby was ten pages, and it took forever to get to the cuddling bit- sorry about that.

Anyways, Anon, here is your (long overdue) Tiny fic (it ain't tiny).

The others are laughing and it’s making him mad. Usually, he’s just smack them over the head (a much good as it would do, curse his weak arms) but usually he can reach that high.

Right now, he can’t.

Because right now, he’s a freaking rabbit

He’s a little pink rabbit sitting in the middle of a circle of heroes who are all laughing at him, and more than anything he wants to hop his freaking furry tail over to Warrior’s horrid choice of footwear and bite the shit out of the captain’s ankles; he deserves it (the rancher does to).

“How did this happen?” Hyrule wheezes out, and even though he wants to be, Legend finds that he can’t be mad at the healer, not when the kid’s face is flushed with laughter, his smile bright and carefree, golden gaze watery under the force of his bell-like laughter as it pricks at Legend’s sensitive ears.

“I don’t know!” Twilight wheezes from where he’s leaning against Time, hearty chuckles exploring from him unabashedly as he looks down at Legend. “We were scouting around the camp and when I turned around,” He gestures weakly to the veteran, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. “Rabbit!”

Legend scowls. He doesn’t even know what happened. One minute he was walking and the next he was tumbling head over paws on the pathway. He’d refused to let Twilight carry him back to camp (if only to try and maintain whatever dignity he had left) and had waited hopefully for Twilight to retrieve the Master Sword for him, only for Warriors to stumble upon him with the darkest expression he’s ever seen on the captain’s face.

Warriors’ expression at seeing a rabbit might very well haunt Legend’s dreams for ages to come, and had prompted a squeak of fear from him that had sent Sky darting up from his seat. “Legend!” The Chosen Hero had shouted, concern in his sky-blue eyes as he had skidded to his knees at Legend’s side, cautious hands scooping him up and inspecting him for injuries in the brief moment where he was too shocked to protest. Of course, he wouldn’t stand it for long, and after pawing at Sky’s fingers with angry huffs and squeaks that he was going to hope the others would forget about, he had been released back onto the ground.

Which landed them where they were now, surrounded by cackling heroes as they stared down at the fluffy pink ball of fur that was their salty veteran.

“Wow vet, I’d’ve never guessed, a rabbit?” Warriors wheezes, eyes full of mirth. “No wonder we don’t get along!”

He rolls his eyes and growls as best as he can as a rabbit (not like he can growl anyway, but he tries none-the-less). “Just hand over the Master Sword so we can get this shit over with.” He squeaks, ignoring how his growls sound more like honks and chitters than anything threatening.

Sky looks at him oddly, as do several of the others, none of them (save Twi and Sky) apparently expecting him to be able to speak in this form, but the Chosen Hero obliges regardless, reaching back for the Master Sword and carefully settling it within Legend’s reach.

The cool cross-guard is comfortable under his paws, even if it is too big, and he sighs in relief as the power of the blade flows over him. In a moment, his form will disappear into the light and reappear, whole and Hylian, and fully capable of kicking some rancher ass.

Just a moment....

A second more...

He blinks his eyes open, violet flitting across the blade in mounting concern as he takes in the fluffy pink paws that are where his hands should be. Why isn’t it working? Why is he still a helpless rabbit?

“That’s weird.” Twilight and Sky both murmur, exchanging a worried glance as the Skyloftian retrieves the blade. He lunges after it though, not giving Sky a chance to inspect the blade and instead startling him with the weight of a rabbit in his lap as pink paws reach up to grasp the sword hilt again.

“Fi, explain.”

The sword spirit’s voice rings clear and cool in his head as Sky lowers the blade further, better into his reach. He hardly processes the motion, so focused on the words, which is perhaps why he doesn't question the stabilizing hand that lowers onto his back.

“Young Master,” Fi chimes softly in his mind. “The forces which have transformed you are not dark in nature. There is a 76% chance that they are in fact, of nature themselves. As such, my blade is unable to undo the curse. You will likely have to wait until this curse runs its course.”

“How long.” He grates out, nose shivering in irritation as his ears flick back, brushing gently against the Skyloftian's fingers and making Sky gasp softly.

“Processing....There is a 49% percent chance that this curse will fade and return you to your Hylian form in approximately three days' time, and there is a 27% percent chance that it will take a week for said change to occur. Additionally, there is a 15% percent chance that the curse will not fade, and a 9% chance that this curse will make you explode.”

A strangled screech escapes him and he doesn’t even realize his paws have released the sacred blade until they are grasping at his ears, tugging with all of the pent-up emotion inside of his body as he processes the words. Never mind the exploding bit, he might not turn back? There’s only a fifty-fifty chance that he’ll turn back in the next few days?

Sky’s long fingers drag through his fur gently, rubbing soothing circles over his back. “What did she say?”

“Three days!” He tugs his ears again. “Three days of being utterly useless and helpless, and it’s not even certain that I’ll turn back! I could be stuck like this forever! I could explode!”

“Exploding doesn’t seem likely-” Twilight attempts to calm him, but it only makes him tug his ears harder.

“Fi said it might happen!” He shouts back, high pitched and squeaky, and hating every second of it. He buries his face in the fabric beneath him, his rabbit heart pounding with panic and cold dread washing over him as the words continue to spew from his mouth. “And if Fi said it could happen than it might! And we were about to go into battle too! What’ll happen if someone gets hurt? I can’t help anyone and there's absolutely nothing that stupid bunny could do and-”

Someone’s scratching his ears.

Long fingers rubbing just right between them and Legend is helpless to tell them to stop because he’s too busy melting into a puddle in Sky’s lap at the sensation. All thoughts flee as he lets Sky’s hands drive away all worries. Should he be worried that he’s rendered speechless and vulnerable by something so simple? Probably, but Sky seems to know just how to place his hands and Legend can only hum in appreciation at the feeling, a squeaky purr escaping him as he leans into the sensation as Sky hums something soft and soothing under his breath. The vibrations carry down his fingers and tingle down Legend’s spine, calming him further.

“Cute.” Twilight's voice breaks him from his thoughts, and he’s pulling back from Sky’s hands and glaring up at the rancher with all the fury he can fit in his now tiny body.

“He’s not wrong, Kit.” Time chuckles soft and low, and Legend whips his head around to stare at the man.

“Oh no, you are not giving me a nickname!”

“Yeah Time,” Sky’s voice is low and mirthful as he speaks, hand once more settling on Legend’s back as he lifts an arm to block the vet from launching himself at their leader. “He’s my descendant, if anyone should be giving him a nickname it’s me.”

“How about Nibbles?” The sailor grins, leering into Legend’s space with enough mischief in his gaze to kill a Lynel. “I mean, the vet is always chewing us out.”

He forgets for a moment that his growls sound more like chirps in this form, baring his teeth at the sailor as he attempts to frighten him off. It doesn’t work, rabbits aren’t made to scare off bigger animals “So help me sailor I-”

Large hands scoop him off the ground and suddenly he’s being cradled in Sky’s arms. Like a baby. The indignity! “Calm down, Bun, he’s just kidding.” Sky’s crystal eyes glimmer with genuine concern as he looks down at Legend. “And we’ll find a way to change you back, I promise. The goddesses wouldn’t have let you change like this if it was for the worse. You’ll see,” Sky bops his nose with a smile entirely too pure. “It’ll be fine.”

Legend would like to argue that point, the goddesses have never shown any particular interest in what’s best for him before, and most of them seem to find humor in ruining his life time and again (except the Golden Trio, they’re alright he guesses, especially Din), but Sky looks so certain and Legend’s honestly too tired to start a big fight about Hylia again. (Heaven knows the last time he made Sky mad he nearly shat himself at how terrifyingly defensive Sky could get about those he loved). It doesn’t matter anyway, he supposes, as Sky’s already standing and making is way back to their main camp, gait just smooth enough not to jostle his reluctant passenger as Legend slumps in place.

He might as well let this happen, at least until he can figure out how to fix it.

It’s official.

Legend hates being a bunny.

They’ve settled down for dinner and as if to mock him and all that he loves, Wild has been struck with the inspiration to make his absolutely heavenly radish stew. The one that Legend would literally sell some of his rings for because it is that good.

And he can’t eat it.

He tried, and that attempt resulted in both himself and Sky covered in broth, the thick liquid clinging to his fur now as he sits on the ground with some raw fruits and vegetables instead. He doesn’t know that he’ll ever be able to eat it again without being forced to remember nearly drowning in the stuff.

He feels like a baby and he hates it.

He’s soaked himself and his ancestor and food and Warriors still isn’t done tittering about it.

He really hates being a bunny.

The others have nearly stepped on him numerous times, simply because they aren’t used to having to watch underfoot, so every time someone walks over to Wild to get seconds (why did the Champion sit next to him and Sky in the first place?) he has to back-peddle onto his haunches to avoid being crushed under heavy boots and even heavier feet.

Add to that that Wild and Wind both subconsciously reach out to pet his bedraggled fur every few minutes and he’s absolutely fed up with this shit!

At least the Champion was willing to lend him something to dry his fur off with, and even if he hates it, the spare brush Warriors has on hand does a decent job of detangling his fluffy hide. If he melts a little in Twilight’s lap as the rancher goes over him with the brush than no one says anything (although both Sky and Time have infuriating matching smiles on their faces).

But then it’s bedtime and Time is sorting through his things to try and make sure that no one person will have to carry all his stuff, and he’s reminded once again how utterly useless he is in this form. It only makes things worse that he knows that the others will be burdened with his bags, and considering his top speed at the moment can only be held for short sprints, he’s pretty sure the Old Man is going to have someone carry him too.

The very idea makes him puff out his fur in irritation.

At the very least though, he doesn’t have to worry much about how he’s going to handle the cold nights, Sky’s already taken his beloved sailcloth and bundled it into a little nest, and the minute Twilight is done with his fur the Chosen Hero is scooping him up and laying him in it (absently, he wonders if Sky might have a stronger paternal instinct than Time and if his own small form is triggering that). The fabric is warm though, and it’s nice. If Sky curls up around him in the middle of the night though, well, he supposes there’s not really much he can do about that.

Sky does curl around him and he’s trapped.

The Skyloftian may look soft and cuddly, but he’s got an iron grip when he’s asleep, and it’s only by the pure squishability of his current form that he’s able to escape (Sky will be disappointed when he wakes up, he knows, but even so, Legend doesn’t intend on staying a rabbit, not for a whole week, especially when there’s monsters out there.

Perhaps the thought of said monsters should dissuade him, but it doesn’t. He knows now what triggered this change, and he’s determined to hunt it down and trick it into changing him back, he just needs to escape his babysitters for a hot tic in order to do so.

It’s a lucky thing that Four and Warriors are both so drowsy that the feather light step of a rabbit doesn’t catch their attention as the two sit on watch, and Legend’s able to creep over to his bag (positioned with Twilight’s things) and dig through it until he finds what he needs.

You can’t go making deals with the fae unless you have something of value, or those tricksters will rob you blind and steal your first born. Not that Legend ever intends on having kids, but on the off chance that he ever did he’d rather they didn’t have a shitty life because he made an error in dealing with a forest sprite.

Come to think of it, how powerful are the forest people of this time?

Warriors looks seconds away from walking up to Sky’s sleeping form and throwing Legend as far as he can into the distance, and it’s making Four nervous.

Rationally, they know that Warriors wouldn’t consciously do such a thing, but they also know how much Warriors hates rabbits in general, and that the captain’s initial instinct at seeing them is to toss them away from himself as far as possible (never mind how rare a real rabbit is, Warriors’ time is apparently full of them and Warriors hates them). They’ve heard the story, how the captain was made to hunt rabbits down across his world and return them to their homes, the fact that he did so by throwing them is a bit concerning considering the delicate bone structure of the animals, but it’s not Wars’ fault that he doesn’t know that.

All the same, Four would feel a bit more secure if they knew that Wars wouldn’t be doing such a thing. (Rationally, they know he won’t, but rationality is only so much of the equation).

“I’m gonna check on the vet.” They murmur softly to their companion. Somethings not right and they hope it’s just Warriors’ previous retellings of his own rabbit-escapades eating at them and not something else. “Sky’s got a grip like a vice when he sleeps and I don’t want him getting crushed.”

Never mind that being small sucks when it’s this cold out. Four desperately hopes that it won’t rain tonight (although the air tastes right for it).

“Rabbits are tough little things,” The captain chuckles. “I’m sure he’s okay.”

Vio wrenches control from the others, gaze flat as he stares out at Wars. “You do know most rabbits can’t survive being thrown, right? They’re not like cats, if they land wrong their done for.”

The captain pales slightly but doesn’t say anything, and they take that as their cue to stand and make their way over to where Sky and the vet had bedded down for the night. Sure enough, Sky is curled up around the sailcloth nest he made for Legend like a child curled around their favorite stuffed animal (or Red with any of the rest of them), but at the very least it doesn’t look as if Legend would have been smashed, just caged. They wince, the vet doesn’t sleep well on a good night, but waking up to being trapped? That is...not good. There’s a reason they never force him to join everyone else when Red takes over and calls for a cuddle pile; everyone knows that the most Legend will stand is letting Hyrule hold his hand while he sleeps, and even then, the vet will still pull away when he finally does fall asleep.

Sky shifts (he’s a heavy sleeper, but all the same he moves a lot), arms wrapping tighter around the bundle in his arms. Tight enough that the sailcloth gives way. Sky’s face screws up in his sleep, wrapping even tighter around the bundle as if seeking out some form of resistance.

Four panics. Bunnies are delicate creatures and Sky is strong, did he just crush Legend?

Only, looking closer, Vio points out that there isn’t even a hint of pink amidst the fabric, and when Four dares reach out to test the bundle himself, they find that there is nothing within its folds.

“Four?” Warriors’ voice is tinged with concern as Four stand back up from his crouch, brows pinched together as he scans over the camp. “Is something wrong?”

“Legend’s missing.”

The captain’s brows shoot up, but thankfully he doesn’t bother with questioning them, instead hoisting himself to his feet and making his way around the camp, an ever-growing frown marring his features as he looks around. “Did he choose to sleep with Hyrule instead?” It’s a soft murmur, likely only spoken aloud because Wars is too tired to stop it before it reaches his mouth, but Four’s eyes flick over to where the Traveler sleeps regardless.

“I don’t think so.”

“Look,” Warriors groans softly, not loud enough to wake the others, stopping at Twilight’s bedroll and motioning to the bags stacked near the rancher's pillow. “His bag is open.”

“You don’t think he climbed inside of it, do you? We’d never find him!”

The captain gives him a look, blinking once before shaking his head. “No! But he was clearly trying to get at something.” Royal blue eyes turn to stare out at the forest. “What are the chances he went back out there, alone?”

Four hesitates, fingers drumming on his thigh as the colors swarm in his mind. “I don’t know, but I should probably check.”

“We need to watch camp.” The older hero frowns.

“You watch camp, I’ll go out there.”

“You can’t go alone, Four, it’s not safe.” Wars reminds him, concern glinting in his gaze as he turns back to the smithy.

“Fine.” Blue’s the only reason they roll their eyes, they swear. “I’ll take Hyrule. If the vet’s fallen down a hole or something then we can take care of it immediately.”

A smile breaks out across Warriors’ face, even if it is slightly strained. “Funny how that’s even a risk now.”

“Don’t I know it.” Besides, at least Hyrule seems to have a second sense for these sorts of things. Like Sky and Twilight, he has a knack for tracking down the others, especially if he needs to find Time for whatever reason. Four’s seen it themselves, it’s uncanny, but incredibly useful, so they’ve never really questioned it (Vio has, Vio has questioned it enough to give them a head-ache).

It’s the work of a minute to shake the traveler awake, as he’s one of the lightest sleepers of them all, and it takes even less time for them to be off, the simple words “Legend’s gone” being enough to send the traveler springing up and following closely after Four, one hand on his sword as the two of them make their way back into the depths of the forest.

Legend should know better than to try and make a deal with the fae.

Hyrule can recognize the look of a fairy about to claim her prize in an instant, and it appears Legend is about as clueless as a bunny can be about the loophole that he must have left open in whatever twisted deal the two have concocted. Anger burns in his blood as a whisper-hisses through his teeth, a few words all it takes before he’s zipping between the two of them, wings beating furiously as all six of his eyes stare into those of the other with nothing short of pure fury.

“Mine!” He hisses, darting forwards in a fake charge at the other, wings whirring angrily as his eyes stare at them “Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine!” His voice contorts and buzzes, his aura flickering brighter and sharper as he zooms down to hover over Legend’s ears. “MINE.”

“What is your claim?” The other chimes smugly. “What promise or service marks him as yours? Where is the Mark that makes a mortal the charge of a fae, hmm? Show it to me and I will release him to your care.” Glistening teeth glimmer as multiple eyes glisten with malice, jealousy over a potential catch making the fairy’s gaze spark dangerously. “Else ways, leave us be, our deal is near set and you have no business to interrupt it.”

“His true form,” He hisses. “There is my Mark on his hand. The Triangle, my symbol.” He hisses through bared teeth, every eye slitted and glimmering with fury. He can’t lie, not even if he tried, but he’s fae and they’re more skilled than anyone at finding tricks to get around things. The triforce is his symbol, something he’s recognizable by in his world, but it’s not only on his hand, the others bear the same mark and even if it isn’t Fae in origin, it's from the Scared Realm and none can deny that it sets them apart. Anyways, the Fae know mortals by their markings, this should be enough of a claim to make her renounce her dealings with Legend.

No fae dares mess with the Charge of another.

“What is your proof? Can you show me?” She taunts.

“My power isn’t that strong.” He hisses. “You do it and then you’ll see!”

“And give him what he asks without receiving my due? Oh no little Half-Blood.” She glares at him. “Give me Good Reason or leave alone.”

“He is goddess born.” He hisses out finally, grasping at straws. Mother only taught him so much of Fae law, but surely there’s something against touching those blessed by the heavens, right? “Hylia’s child descended. To touch him or any other of Mine is to plead wrath from the Scared Realm.” A sly smile slides over pointed teeth. “Would you wish that on Yours?”

She pales. “Mark your own in all forms, Halfling. This would not happen if you did.” It’s all she cares to say though, zipping away without another word.

“Do I want to know what I just avoided?” Legend’s voice croaks up at him, faint and pitchy all the same as he looks up to the fairy above him.

“I don’t know. But never, and I mean NEVER, make deals with fae again. Not even me! You can’t break promises or be too careful, you never know what they’ll do.” Two of his eyes glance over his shoulder to ensure that the other Fae is gone for good.

“I was trying to be careful.” Legend huffs, his breath sending Hyrule higher over his head for a moment before the fairy regains his balance. “They’re clever little-” He cuts off, violet eyes narrowing and bunny nose shivering as he looks up at Hyrule again. “You’re a fairy.”

His aura dims slightly, wings drooping ever so slightly as he looks down at his mentor. “Yes.”

Legend stares, violet piercing and sharp. Hyrule has never noticed the hint of gold that bands his irises, nor the flecks of blue that glisten under the effects of a fairy’s glow, and it only makes the Veteran’s stare all the more intense.

“Huh.” The bunny huffs softly. “That’s pretty neat, ‘Rulie.” There's no anger, no accusation in his tone, and when Hyrule brings his gaze up to meet that of his mentor again, all he sees is fondness and intrigue. “Is this new? An item? Were you- no,” Legend’s ears prick forwards, his interest obvious as he leans forward. (Hyrule wonders if the vet realizes that he's smelling him.) “You speak like They do. This isn’t new.”

It’s not a question.

“I’m, uh, half fairy.”

Legend nods slowly. “And you didn’t think to tell anyone?” At the dimming of Hyrule’s glow the vet pulls away, eyes flashing with panic for a moment. “I don’t mean that as a bad thing, ‘Rule, just-” He cocks his head long ears flopping to one side sloppily. “It’s not something I’d think you’d want to hide. Seems pretty useful to me.”

And by useful, Hyrule knows Legend means cool.

“I told Four.” He nods to the Hylian standing over them. The smithy’s eyes flicker various colors, his lips pulling aside into a slight smile as he crouches to be closer to their height.

“Now I’m taller than both of you.” Four chuckles softly, crimson tinged gaze sweeping over the two of them.

“Don’t get smart.” Legend huffs. “This is a curse, not my true form, you’d be tiny too if you were cursed into an animal form. Probably smaller than me!”

There’s a knowing look in the smithy’s gaze, but he holds his silence, smile still present as he carefully looks over the both of them. “Well, if neither of you were harmed in that little exchange, we should get back to camp. Wars will be in a huff if we don’t back with you soon.”

Legend huffs his own huff, but doesn’t object, gathering up the glimmering item he had brought as a toll (Hyrule thinks it might be a precious stone of some sort) and slowly hopping after the Smithy as he turns back towards camp.

They’d have made it to camp rather quickly too, if the sky hadn’t chosen that moment to weep out it’s sorrow with the world and the evils within. Great sheets of rain, the likes of which they usually only expect from the Champion’s Hyrule, flood down over them, and Hyrule thanks all things Holy that Legend is there to break his fall as the water soaks his wings and sends him careening towards the earth. Four yelps in surprise, hands fumbling for his hood as he tried to fend off some of the wet (it does little good, they’ll be soaked in seconds in this downpour.

“In here!” Legend squeaks, the rabbit hero already darting into the nearest hollow he can see that isn’t clearly inhabited. It’s a tight squeeze, and Hyrule nearly knocks his head on the bark of the opening, but Legend gets the both of them under, and despite the mushrooms that seem to fill the space with a soft light, it’s a comfortable fit for the two of them. The ground beneath is laid with moss, purposefully it would seem, and Hyrule lets himself side down into it with an appreciative hum.

“What about Four?” He murmurs softly, looking out of the crevice through which they entered. It’s still pouring buckets, and unlike them, the smithy has no dry place to hide (heavens knows the camp will be soaked. He feels terrible for the others).

“What about me?”

Violet and gold turn upwards as twin gasps escape the two. Four, in all of his minish glory, waves back at them from where he’s perched on top of one of the mushrooms. “Minish portal.” He smiles cheerily (but Hyrule can Taste the nervousness rolling off of him).

“Wait, both of you get small?” Legend’s ears stand up straight, brushing the roof of their shelter. “Smaller?” He corrects himself.

Four rolls his eyes. “It was get soaked or get small. I don’t fancy catching a cold, so I chose small.” He wrinkles his nose (it will never stop being cute), hopping down from the mushroom and free falling into the dampened fur of his rabbit-companion. “Now shut up and let me warm up, you’re bigger than I am and since you left me out there to soak I think I can get away with using you to warm up.”

Hyrule’s laughter rings soft and sweet through the hollow, Legend’s vaguely offended expression only adding fuel to the fire as he flits closer. “The vet doesn’t really mind cuddles, do you Ledge? Besides,” He lets his wings fall still, embracing the warmth of Legend’s soft fur as he lands in it lightly. “We just saved his ass.”

Legend turns his head to stare at the two of them, but even in rabbit form his lips twitch with amusement as he shoves him nose into Four’s personal space, making the minish-hero tumble down into the moss with a faint yelp. “You’re soaking.”

The smith grins back, plunging right back into the warm pink fur. “That wasn’t a refusal.”

“One time.” Legend huffs, ears flicking briefly. “One time only, smithy. Enjoy it while you can.”

“Trust me,” Four sighs, plonking down against the vet and leaning into the plush fur around him. “I will.”

It takes mere seconds before Four has drifted off, and Hyrule is reminded that the smith was keeping watch for most of the night before they had gone out looking for Legend. Guilt, sickly-sweet, yet bitter, taints his tongue as Legend stares down at the tiny form curled against him. Hyrule sighs. “I guess he was more tired than I thought.”

Legend only huffs, ears flicking back and nose shivering as he noses the smithy’s sleeping from. Four’s dropped off like a stone, completely dead to the world as Legend curls around him (not dissimilar to how Sky had curled around him earlier that night), easing the gentle shivers of the smith, who noses deeper into Legend’s pelt. Tiny paws coming up to catch hold of pink fur as Four curls up, feather-like tail brushing against the top of his tiny nose, moved only by tiny snores that make Legend’s ears twitch and Hyrule giggle softly.

“The rains still pouring down.” Legend hums, gruff as he can be in his current state, but Hyrule knows it’s all an act. “You might as well get some sleep too, ‘Rulie.”.

And while any other time Hyrule may have argued, Legend lifts his head to offer the space next to Four, and if Legend is offering cuddles, especially with his silky soft fur as a barrier against the cold, Hyrule knows he can’t resist it.

Four’s paw catches hold of him the instant he settles next to the smithy, and before he knows it the two of them are both bundled up in each other while Legend curls himself around them, breath soft and soothing as his heart pit-patters away inside of him.

That’s how they wake the next morning.

Wolfie’s nose shoved against the crack in the bark is what pulls them back from the land of dreams, and the soft snuffling bark followed by Time’s voice is what gets them up on their feet. It’s an awkward thing, emerging into the light again to find five heroes and a wolf staring down at them in a mixture of confusion and concern, but nobody seems to be able to bring themselves to scold when Four sneezes.

“We got caught in the storm.” Legend huffs when he sees the soft expression on Time’s face.

Wolfie huffs, and, much to the surprise of the currently shrunken heroes, they can hear the laugh in it. “Of course you did.”

Hyrule’s mouth drops open, all six eyes bugging out in shock as he turns to Four. The fairy’s whisper is high and shocked, but too sharp a noise for Hylian ears, although Legend, Wolfie and Four can all hear him quite clearly. “Wolfie is Twilight!”

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #fluffics #lu legend #lu twilight #lu hyrule #lu sky #lu four #lu warriors #fairy hyrule #bunny legend #minish four #minish four has friends!#fairies can taste emotions hc #Fairy Hyrule has six eyes #shut up and let me have eldritch hyrule!#wolfie linked universe #wolfie

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waitimcomingtoo · 4 years

Text

In Case You Don’t Live Forever

~chapter three rewritten~

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!Reader

Synopsis: you are Peter’s greatest love and Spiderman’s greatest enemy

Series Masterlist

Peter arrived at the Avengers tower with a little pep in his step. His new neighbor was on his mind and he couldn’t get her off. He knew it was a long shot, after all you’d only had one conversation, but he felt like there was a connection between you. You were awkward, he was awkward. What more does a relationship need?

Tony was quick to notice the change in Peters mood. A dreamy smile crept across his face every now and then while Tony was trying to explain something about his nanotechnology.

“Alright Underoos, whats on your mind? A girl? Boy? That gorgeous Aunt of yours? Oh wait no, that’s what’s on my mind.” Tony smirked, making a blush paint Peters cheeks.

“Nothing sir. Sorry, I’ll pay attention.” Peter answered quickly. Tony scanned Peter up and down skeptically.

“So its a girl. Alright. Who is she?” Tony asked, motioning for Peter to sit down with him.

“This girl moved in across the hall from me about a week ago. I’d see her on the stairs sometimes, or in the lobby. She’s beautiful, Mr. Stark. I mean, really beautiful. And I know girls are a lot more than their appearance, trust me, but I can never look away. It’s like God made a perfect batch of cookie dough, and then made a perfect cookie cutter, and then hand made her just for me. There’s just, there’s something about her. I feel like I’ve always known her, and I don’t even know her yet. She knocked on my door this morning and I nearly had a heart attack when I saw her through the peephole. I played dumb and acted like I didn’t know she lived across the hall.” Peter started to explain. A twinge of embarrassment struck him at the memory of what he said to you.

“Oh God. You said something stupid, didn’t you?” Tony inquired, noticing the look of embarrassment on Peters face as he recalled their conversation. Tony leaned on his hands like a child, this stuff exciting him more than anything.

“I insulted her dead father and called him smelly.” Peter admitted, and Tony laughed.

“But she found it funny and agreed with me.” Peter quickly followed up.

“Wow. Normally I’d say there’s no coming back from that, but she seems like a keeper. So, are you gonna throw on your Spidey suit and take her for a ride around the city? Works with all the ladies.” Tony wiggled eyebrows, but Peter shook his head.

“No. Spider-Man isn’t a party trick or some tactic to pick up girls. Plus, I want her to like me for me. That’s why I invited her over for dinner tonight.” Peter answered. Tony looked down at his hands, not wanting Peter to see how proud he was. He couldn’t let Peter get too cocky.

“That was a test and you passed.” To y quipped. “Alright, spider child, you have my blessing. But no funny business tonight. If I find out I’m gonna have to design nanotech baby clothes, I’m gonna be pissed.”

Peter blushed at the mere thought of what Tony was implying and spent the rest of his time at the tower going over missions to get you off his mind.

You arrived at Peters at 6:07. You were done getting ready at 5:45, and sat in the living room on your phone until you were slightly late. You didn’t want to be early, like some loser. Or even worse, on time. You had to be fashionably, but not rudely, late.

You knocked on Peters door at 6:07 and waited. The door swung open instantly, as if he’d be waiting right behind.

“I know what you’re thinking.” He stated. “I’ll let you decide if I was waiting at the door for you or if I’m just really fast. “

He had successfully broken the ice, and you gave kudos to him for trying.

You, on the other hand, were drawing a blank. You had no idea what to say and you were a reporter for crying out loud. You didn’t get tripped up on my words, but something about Peter Parker and that damn collared shirt rendered you unable to formulate a thought. All you could do was stand there and smile at him. You felt like you were standing weirdly and all the sudden had no idea where to put your hands. Do you leave them at your sides? That felt too stiff and soldier-like. But where else would they go? You were pretty sure every brain cell had left your body at that point, leaving you defenseless.

“You look nice.” Peter blurted, interrupting the awkward silence that had settled between you. Even he seemed surprised by his statement. You looked down and shrugged. You looked as nice as a lazy person who didn’t fully unpack their clothes could look. You had on a casual grey dress that was made of some sort of t-shirt material, and your hair was in a loose bun with a few curls framing your face. Peter took in your appearance with what looked like approval. Then you noticed Peters gaze falling to your feet.

“Converse with a dress.” He noted. “Bold move.”

You felt your personality re-enter your body, finally, and nodded.

“Oh yeah. You know me. Quirky and cool and not like other girls.” You joked as you clicked your heels together. “You look nice too. Very…Freddie Benson.”

Freddie Benson? Who the hell makes an ICarly reference to compliment someone? This night was going downhill fast and you regretted ever knocking on his door.

“Dude. You’re tanking.” Venom said in your ear, you had to agree. This couldn’t be going worse.

But lo and behold, Peters beautiful laugh filled your ears once again.

“That’s what I was going for!” He cheered. “My friend Ned always teases me for wearing sweaters and button downs but he just doesn’t have the vision.”

“Come in.” He suddenly stepped aside and gestured inward. “Dinners almost ready.”

Peters apartment looked just like yours, but much more homey. You saw his baby pictures on the wall, coupled with pictures of him and his parents through the years. You noticed a framed picture of a different couple on the coffee table. They resembled Peter but you didn’t see them in any photos with him past the age of around 7. There was a candle next to the frame, as well as a ceramic cross. You quickly looked away, not wanting to overstep.

“You must be Y/N. It’s very nice to meet you.” You heard a woman’s voice from behind you. You turned around and saw a woman in high pants and a yellow tank top, recognized her from the pictures with Peter.

“I am. It’s very nice to meet you too, Mrs. Parker.” You said politely and shook her hand.

“Please.” She shook your hand. “Call me May.”

“May.” You repeated with a smile.

You turned around and saw Peter pulling out a chair for you, so you sat down while May finished preparing dinner. You offered to help, being the polite ass bitch that you were, but May insisted that you were the guest. A plate of “meatloaf” was soon placed in front of you and Peter. The term “meatloaf” is used very loosely. It looked more like an old shriveled brain. Peter made eye contact with you and winked.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.” He whispered. He glanced at May, who was busy pouring the drinks, before leaning in closer and whispering, “it’s way worse.”

You playfully kicked Peter under the table and he giggled, quickly masking the sound with a drink of water.

“So, Y/N, where do you go to school?” May started the conversation. You took a bite of meatloaf, nearly died, and swallowed before answering.

“I’m actually taking a gap year before I start my junior year at Berkeley.” You told her. “And I work part time as a reporter.”

“That’s a very good school.” She complimented. “And I thought you looked familiar. I’ve seen your show on YouTube.”

“I haven’t.” Peter realized. “What’s it called?”

“The L/n Report.” You answered. “I started it my freshman year and it just kinda took off.”

“Oh. I’ve read some of yoru articles, but I haven’t seen the show.” Peter realized. “I can’t believe you do that. That’s really cool. You’re really cool.”

“Thank you.” You winked at him, not used to being praised for your work.

“Peter told me about your father.” May changed the subject. “I’m so sorry to hear that he passed. He left the apartment to you?”

“He did.” You nodded. “And it’s all right. We were estranged anyway.”

“It must be so different living alone in a city.” May sighed. “Did you dorm while at Berkeley?”

“No, I lived with my boyfriend.” You shook your head. Peter began choking on his water at the mention of a boyfriend and May shot him a look.

“Peter. Manners.” She said sternly.

“Boyfriend?” Was all he managed to say between coughs and sputters.

Oh great. Time for this conversation.

“Ex-boyfriend.” You corrected. “I got him demoted to traffic duty for two weeks and he wasn’t too happy about it.”

“He broke up with you over that?” Peter raised an eyebrow. “That’s gotta be the dumbest reason for a breakup I’ve ever heard.”

“May I ask how you got him demoted?” May wondered.

“Well, I’m an investigative reporter, and my ex, Andy, is a cop.” You began. “I looked at some classified files on his computer and used them against someone.”

“Carlton Drake, right?” She realized the story sounded familiar. “I read about that. Your exposé about him was everywhere.”

“Didn’t he die in his own rocket?” Peter asked you, fully invested in the story.

“Yea. I was there. Me and…my friend.” You caught yourself before almost mentioning Venom.

“Gosh I read that story forever ago.” May recalled. “It was all over the news here. I remember Peter ranting to me that this girl was straight out of high school and already taking down shady guys in San Francisco. You were obsessed with the article, remember Peter? I’m pretty sure you hung it up.”

Peter, you guessed it, turned bright red.

“I just thought you were cool. You know, taking down bad guys and all at such a young age. It really inspired me.” Peter explained. He suddenly looked panicked, like he said too much, and you wondered what it inspired him to do.

“Thank you Peter.” You smiled fondly. “How old are you anyway?”

“19. I’ll be 20 on August 10th.” He said proudly. “What about you?”

“He’s legal.” Venom whispered in your ear. You couldn’t even be mad at her, you were thinking the same thing.

“I’m 20.” You told him, and smile crept across his face.

“And this boyfriend, where is he now?” May asked. May wasn’t blind to what was happening between her nephew and this new neighbor and knew that’s what Peter was dying to ask.

“I would very much also like to know that.” Peter said, almost robotically. He leaned in closer and stared at you while he awaited the answer.

“He’s engaged, actually.” You said between sips of water, making Peter sigh in relief. “To a friend of mine. They’re getting married this summer.”

It was the first time you said those words out loud. You didn’t feel sad, like you thought you would. You didn’t really know how you felt. The smile that broke out on Peters face gave a clear indication on how he felt, though.

“That’s great. I mean, not great great. Great for him, I mean. It’s always good to move on. Wether it be with an old friend or a brand new one. Maybe it’s with someone you just met. You never know. Things just happen between the most random of people. Could be a stranger. Or, or, hear me out, it could be less of a stranger. Like a barista, or a mailman or a…a neighbor.” Peter stumbled over his words, the last part coming out very quietly. “I’m sorry that things didn’t work out though. Between you and him, I mean. ”

“Thanks.” You shrugged. “It was tough at first but, I’m okay now. He wasn’t the one.”

“When you do find the one, you’ll know. I knew almost immediately that Ben was the one. I saw him and my heart said “that’s the one you’ve been looking for” and I believed it.” May sighed wistfully. You could see her eyes glistening behind her glasses and did something rather bold. You put your hand on top of hers and squeezed. She gave off this loving motherly vibe that you had only seen in movies but never felt for yourself. May gave you the warmest smile and squeezed your hand back.

“That’s lovely May. Although, I always thought when you met the one, your heart wouldn’t say that it’s been looking for that person. I always thought it would say ‘welcome home’, or something like that. You know? Like, you’ve always known them. I don’t know though. Maybe I’ve just seen The Princess Bride one too many times.” You shrugged.

“Ah. That’s a classic in this household.” May recalled. “Peter would refuse to go to bed without watching it.”

“Because it’s a cinematic masterpiece.” Peter sassed. “You’re trying to embarrass me by pointing out that even as a child I had impeccable taste? Oh please.”

You laughed at his remark, making May noticed the smile that broke out on Peters face when he succeeded in making their new neighbor laugh.

May looked at you for a while with a content smile on her face before saying, “Yeah. I suppose you do have good taste.”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #iron man #peter parker imagine #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #peter parker x venom!reader #venom!reader

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turtle-go-brrrr · 3 years

Text

4 times Leonardo was a dork and the time he wasn’t

Heya! I adore the "strong stoic character does something embarrassing or dumb" trope, and Leo has been left behing from that one. Also, my fervent Leo Simp Friend said these were all good ideas and I trust his judgment completely, so it's also for him. Enjoy, you Dork-ass Looser (affectionate) @weird-flex-but-ok

I have one of these "4 times ______ and 1 time ______" stories for each of them, I just got really inspired by him all of a sudden. But they're coming!

There might be a few typos here and there, but I really don't wanna wait any longer to post it :3

Requested: No

Pairing: None, platonic

Word count: 2500 +

Triggers: cursing, injuries, blood, intrusion

Summary: You were always sort of intimidated by the leader in blue, but a series of events shows you he might not be as serious as he wants you to think.

__________________________________________

First time

It took you a while to get along with all of them.

Not because you didn't trust them, or because they made it difficult, and certainly not because they're mutants. You're just not that good with new people, and you tend to shy away. Especially when you have New York's heroes in front of you.

So yeah. It took a while. But soon enough, you warmed up to your new friends, and you had a great time. Mikey was the first who made you feel welcomed, always asking questions about you and insisting you came to the lair in the first place. Donnie followed soon, after you started asking about what he was working on. It took a bit more work to get closer to Raph, but it turns out sarcasm was the way to go.

If only their leader was as approachable.

He never made you feel unsafe or unwelcomed, don’t get me wrong, he just kept a professional distance with you, which started to become quite painful as time went on. You tried not to take it personally, thinking he maybe was as shy as you were.

You had time anyway.

It was early in the evening when you made your way to the lair. For the first time since you met the turtles, you went there alone. You were a little nervous, thinking you might get lost in the maze of tunnels under the city, but figured you could just call someone if anything happened. Lucky for you, you found your way to your friend’s place, but not without hustle.

As you entered, you realized it was uncharacteristically quiet. The only sounds you could here were the faint music and the not so faint curses from Donatello’s lab. The smart decision seemed to be leave him alone, which is exactly what you did.

You haven’t been here long enough to know where to find the others, and as you didn’t exactly felt like staying alone in the living space, you tried finding your way to the dojo, as it was one of the other places you knew well.

Of course, now you got lost. Venturing into the sewers was fine, but walking into your friend's home wasn't, apparently.

You found something else, however. This particular tunnel led to a room you could identify as someone's room. You could see the large bed in the middle of the room, a small table with a bottle of water, a book, and a makeshift alarm. A set of twin swords were hanging on the right wall, just above a small bookshelf.

On your left was another table with a (healthy, you noted) bonsai tree, and next to that was Leonardo, facing a mirror. He had his right arm lifted up to his head, and was looking right to you through the mirror.

He looked absolutely horrified.

What the fuck.

He slowly rubbed his face in his hands, let out a long sigh, and turned to you, more tense than you've ever seen him. He cleared his throat as you pince your lips in a thin line to hold back a smile.

"Hello, Y/N. I... didnt think you'd come in so early."

Despite the badly lit room, you can see him bite the inside of his cheek.

"Yeah, uh, I didnt mean to... interrupt you," you say. Your voice is slightly shaking as it takes all of your willpower not to burst out laughing. And he definitely notices.

"You didn't! I uh, wasn't doing anything anyway. So, tell me- what brings you to the lair?" He asks, avoiding your eyes.

"Oh, Mikey invited me, he said I wasnt allowed to skip on movie night. You know how strong willed he is," you smirks, unable to handle it much longer.

Stiff as a board, you see the corner of his mouth twitching and hear him whisper, "... I wasn't flexing."

Silence.

You snort laugh hard enough to choke on it as you quickly turn around to hold yourself against the wall, the insanity of the situation crashing on you. Leo sat at the foot of his bed, head in his hands, and you could see him shake in repressed laughter once you wiped your tears away.

You sit next to him after finally calming down from the hysteria. He sighs, straightens his back and gives you a side glance.

"I'm not judging."

"You're still laughing, though."

"Yeah, but like, I guess I just wasn't expecting that. Still not judging."

He nods, still smiling. His voice is at least 3 octaves higher when he asks, "Please, don't tell the others."

"And what, give them the privilege of knowing about your little... ritual? Nah, don't worry about it."

_______________________

Second time

The second time your assumptions about the leader were subverted happended only two weeks after the... incident.

You had invited the whole crew to your place for the very first time, and they were all excited to come. You made a copious dinner: a few veggie cakes, chicken wings and a bowl of roasted potatoes. They were supposed to bring the drinks and movies, and April and Casey were in charge of the desert.

A perfect night, it seemed.

And it would have been if they could decide what to watch first without jumping at each other's throats.

"You guys need to grow up."

"Leave me out of thi-"

"Donnie's suggesting Velocipastor of all things and you think we need to grow up? Come on, Y/N, I thought you were better than that."

"Okay, first of all, how dare you. And second, this movie's a masterpie-"

"Yeah, because everyone knows that his supremior intellect means he's the only one who gets to choose a dumb movie. Why won't you guys watch Sharknado?"

"Supremior isn't a word. And it's because unlike you, peasants, I have taste." A devilish smile creeps up Donnie's face. The bastard is doing it on purpose.

"Peasants?!"

"You ugly-ass son of a-"

"Hey! Leave Dad out of this!"

"We could watch Shrek instead?"

You decided to go get some glasses in the kitchen, leaving the children to their stupid fight. Searching through your cupboard, you hear a crashing sound, quickly followed by utter and complete silence.

Oh no.

In insight, leaving them alone was maybe not the best idea. You were reconsidering bringing glasses into the mess as you made your way to the origin of the sound. And what a mess it was.

Your friends were all expressing shock in some way, Casey (surprisingly) being the most dramatic of them all with his hands right in front of his face and his jaw hanging open. They were all looking back and forth between you and another direction near the table.

The really cool bowl that held the delicious potatoes you made was broken on the floor. There was glass and potatoes everywhere, but the biggest shards were in a neat pile, right behind Leonardo, who looked like a deer in headlights.

"... nothing happended."

"I'm... starting to think it's a habit of yours," you say as you watch him not so discretely try to hide the broken pieces behind his foot.

"Look, if you keep putting your foot in there you're gonna hurt yourself. Just, step away a bit, will you?"

"I'm sorry I broke it. Let me help you clean up, I don't want you to cut yourself."

"It's okay! Don't touch it, I'll get a bag," you say as he starts to gather the biggest shards.

Won't even listen for one second, will he?

Raph was already picking up the untouched potatoes to put them in the plates on the table, and April went to the kitchen with you to retrieve the bag and cleaning supplies.

"Ew, Mikey don't eat that."

"Thirty seconds rule, baby."

"It's five seconds, you moron. And it's way over thirty anyway. Spit it out."

The rest of the night went on without further issues, but Leo still looked apologetic during the movie. Which is probably why he was standing before you as his brothers were leaving.

"Thank you for the evening. And I'm... sorry again for the bowl."

"Hey it's okay, man. Don't worry about it. As long as no one gets hurt it's not that big of a deal."

"I'll get you a new one." He doesn't wait for your answer and ruffles your hair before taking off.

"Text me when you guys get home!" You scream into the night, hoping one of them heard you.

______________________

Third time

It's surprisingly easy to mess with Fearless.

You were in the living room, getting your ass beat on Mario Kart by Mikey, when you decided to take a break for your stomach (and ego)’s sake. You made your way to the kitchen, where Leo and Raph were in a heated discussion. Raph looked

“I’m telling you, 4 inches is too small. What do you get from 4 inches ? Nothing. But 10 inches ? It really makes you feel something.”

…

What?

You looked down on the table and saw multiple ingredients lined up on the table, with a long piece of bread on the side.

Oh, sandwiches. Got it.

Leo’s back was facing you, but Raph gave you a knowing glance, one that said ‘do it’. So, you did. Not without a smirk, first.

“Oh, wow, Leo ! I didn’t think you’d be so open about that kind of conversations.” You open the fridge, hoping you can hide your smile behind the door.

“What ? What do you m-” His face falls. Raph starts chuckling next to you and it looks like Leo’s brain is rebooting.

“I mean, I’m not judging. You do you, buddy, I’m happy for you. Just surprised you choose lunch time to talk about it.” And in other circumstances, you’d mean every word. But right now, messing with your friend is too good to pass on.

“No, hold on- I didnt mean- It’s not what you think ! I’m talking about sandwiches !” He tries to show you the ingredients currently on the table, but Raph decides it’s time to join the fun.

“Lying isn’t vey Bushido of you, Honor Boy,” he winks at you and you can’t repress a giggle.

He puts his face in his hands, knowing very well that the both of you ganged up on him but unable to save face. He just smiles, goes back on his chair and hides his head in his arms, hoping you won’t see how embarassed you made him.

“Hey, you like what you like. Have fun with your sandwiches.” You give him an innocent smile, pat him twice on the shoulder, and join Mikey back on the couch with a plate of grapes.

You could hear Raph’s light chuckle from the kitchen.

______________________

Fourth time

Mornings are hard.

And they’re even worse when you spent the whole night sewing an arm back together after a sword gave it a nasty cut. And getting glass shards off of your friend’s shell. And putting a bone back in it’s rightful place after a particularly bad fall.

Yeah. Long night. And a tense one, too.

Because with the physical pain came the chock and residual fears, the anger and blaming. Everyone was stil on guard, and all that tension was exhausting. You barely slept, too worried that one of your friend’s state would degrade if you didn’t keep an eye on them at all times. Which didn’t really help you get the rest you needed.

If you were hoping the morning would be kinder on all of you, you quickly realized that it was a mistake. While, luckily for the turles, the mutagen was already healing their physical wounds, the emotional exhaustion of the previous night was still heavy. Of all of your conscious friends, not one dared break the eerie silence.

It was weird, seeing them like this. But you couldn’t force yourself to say anything, strangely scared of what could happen. You resumed to making breakfast for everyone and bringing clean towels to the still sleeping feverish turtle in the medbay. Splinter and Mikey were at the kitchen table, quietly accepting your offering, when Leo came into the room from the medbay.

He was still half asleep, and in his drowsiness didn’t see the wall he accidentally ran into.

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t see you there.”

Everyone turned to Leo, who it took a solid minute of staring blindly at the wall to realize what just happened.

Donnie was the first to laugh. It didn’t take long for april and Mikey to join, soon followed by Splinter affectionately patting his son’s arm. Leo smiled and shook his head, as their lighthearted laugh was contagious.

The leader in blue was more of a goofball than what you first expected, and you were grateful for it in the fading tensions of the morning.

______________________

One time he wasn't

When someone intrudes your home, especially at 4 am when you were sleeping in the next room, a lot of things go through your head.

Did they take anything?

Yes. Your bag with your wallet, some cash, your credit card, your ID, and a few fidelity cards from various stores. Your laptop. A set of keys. That one blanket Raph made you (probably to carry everything without making too much noise).

Why you?

Why not? Your apartment isn't isolated, but it's not exactly on a main street either. It was probably practical for them.

Were they armed?

Who knows. Maybe. Maybe not. Probably. Statistically, most likely.

What could have happened if you had tried to confront them?

A lot of things. Maybe, if you let them know you were awake and knew what was going on, without necessarily confronting them, it would have been enough to make them run away. Or maybe there were multiple armed people, and they wouldn't hesitate to use force if necessary.

Who knows.

Can the police find this person?

Statistically? No. At least, that's what Casey told you when you asked him. Unless they got really lucky, they won't find anything.

Or at least the stuff they stole?

Again, unlikely. Unless they can trace your laptop back to the guy, or someone can give a physical description and a direction, there's not a lot they can do.

What can you do now?

Call your bank. And your insurance. And your landlord. Let them know what happened and follow their directive, they'll guide you through their procedure and help you soften the blow.

Casey was the first person you called when you woke up this night, and he was at your place within minutes with two other colleagues (the closest he could find). He spent the rest of the night reassuring you, helping you with the phone calls, asking around for witnesses, but nothing.

It's weird, feeling unsafe for the first time in a place you had called Home for years. It's disturbing. You can feel the nausea your anxiety is giving you, and a headache starts to grow at the back of your skull.

You don't really like this feeling.

So when your turtle friends dropped by the next evening without telling you and you welcomed them with a swing of your favorite pan, let's just say reactions were split.

"I can hack into your computer to find its location if you want. Wouldn't be the first time."

"What?"

"What? I mean, I didn't do it for your location last time. I know all about your search history, though."

"We're gonna have a talk about boundaries and privacy once we're done dealing with that," you sigh. You crash down on the couch next to your friend and mindlessly watch him work.

Leo comes up to you and gently nudges your shoulder. "Hey, do you have a toolbox somewhere? We brought locks to put on your door and windows. You know, just in case."

You nod, quiet, and lead him to your room where you keep most of the most useful stuff you own, including but not limited to a toolbox and a first aid kit.

Your movements were almost mechanical as you retrieved the box and handed it to him, and you decided to help him put up the locks to keep your mind occupied.

He was concerned. You looked like you were still in choc, which he could completely understand. Getting robbed is awful in itself, but getting robbed while you're sleeping in the next room? Horrific, in his mind.

He was also furious. He couldn't be there for you. This person had the nerves to go after his friend, and what if you got hurt? He wouldn't have been able to do anything about it.

He noticed he was staring when your eyes met his.

"Hey. We're gonna do whatever we can to find them. We're also gonna focus our patrols in your neighborhood for at least a few weeks, until you feel better," he puts a hand on your shoulder. "It's gonna be okay Y/N. Trust me."

You look up to him, and when you look into his eyes, you know he means it. You let your head fall against his plastron as he holds you against him, a silent promise for safety.

"Hey shorty," Raph pulls his head into the crack of the door to address you. "Wanna learn how to fight? I can turn you into a death machine."

You heard the faint "Raph, what the fuck" coming from Mikey who was still in the living room.

You gave a small laugh as you got up, Leo following you closely to the living room.

"Hey! Fighting isn't for everyone. But I could make you a really cool taser, if you want."

"What's with you and tasers?"

"They're efficient."

The bell ringed and April came in holding 4 boxes of pizza, that Mikey assisted her with as soon as she set a foot inside.

You looked around at your friends as April brandished the pizzas like a trophy while Raph and Donnie went back and forth trying to decide who, between man power and electricity, would win in a fight.

And you realized that yes, Leo was right.

It's gonna be okay.

#bayverse tmnt #tmnt #tmnt x reader #tw: injuries #tw: blood #tw: break in #tmnt leonardo #tmnt donatello #tmnt 2k16 #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt raphael #tmnt casey #tmnt april #tmnt splinter #OOOOOOOF #took me a while #hope you like it!

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kay-emm-gee · 3 years

Text

always, only, you

Pairing: Theodore Laurence/Amy March Rating: Mature || wc: ~1.5k a/n: Always loved the two of them, and I absolutely adored the 2019 adaptation, and I felt inspired to write jealous!laurie, so here we are.

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For what felt like the tenth time tonight, Laurie was staring at her from across the room, not saying a word. Amy did not look away from her vanity mirror, ignoring the feel of his eyes on her. Their party had gone well as any of their previous endeavors, and she simply wished for the happy sort of exhaustion that normally came after a successful night as hostess to sink into her bones. But instead, after the way her husband had behaved, she only wished for sleep. He had barely spoken to her during their customary waltz or at the dinner table. No kind words for her, no usual shower of compliments--only silent, sidelong looks, just as he was doing even now.

Stubbornly ignoring him, she reached up and continued pulling pins from her hair. Curl after curl fell, and as the last one tumbled down, she heard Laurie’s breath catch. A small thrill of satisfaction tripped up her spine to have finally shaken some semblance of reaction from him. Too soon, however, it died under the weight of her lingering annoyance.

“Are you going to stand there all night?” She finally asked breezily. “Or do you plan to sleep standing up?”

“I will, at the very least, take my cravat off. Still deciding where to sleep. The wall here is quite comfortable, I’ve never noticed before.”

Ignoring his dry quip, she began brushing her hair. “I thought it went well tonight. Not as much of a success as our Christmas party, but still a grand time.”

“Fred Vaughn certainly had an excellent evening.”

She paused mid-stroke, turning to face her husband. When their eyes met, his mouth twisted into a sharp mockery of a smile.

“Whatever do you mean by that?”

“I suppose any man would have had just an excellent of an evening, being so devotedly attended to by my wife.”

He said the last word softly but with such force that it seemed to shatter as it dropped into the silence between them. Slowly, Amy set down her hairbrush. Then she rose from her chair, staring at him in disbelief.

“You...you’ve behaved this way all night, because you are jealous?”

Laurie scoffed, pushing off the wall. He turned from her and shrugged off his evening jacket, then reached up and removed his cravat with short, jerky movements. Incredulous, Amy stood and approached him, her chemise swishing against the floor.

“Laurie, I paid him no more attention than I would any other friend of ours—”

“But no other friend of ours has proposed marriage to you, hmm? No others have been in love with you, have they?”

“It has been more than five years since he and I...you are being ridiculous. Laurie—”

He spun around. “Am I?”

The tinge of angry desperation in his words brought Amy up short. She swallowed down the words of her sharp retort and simply looked at her husband. His chest rose and fell rapidly, and his hair was mussed. No doubt he had been running his hands through it before he had come up to bed. Instinctively, she moved towards him, resting her palms on his shoulders. She could feel the tension in them, and so she slid her hands up until they cupped his jaw. Forcing his gaze down to meet hers, she felt her breath catch again as she glimpsed something all too familiar in his eyes.

Worry that something was slipping away. Fear that something precious and so desperately wanted would be wrenched from his grasp.

This worry, this fear—she had felt it in the first years of their marriage. Despite the rings, and despite her sister’s blessing, Amy had struggled to leave her girlhood insecurities behind. In those early years, jealousy had been her constant foe. She knew Laurie and Jo were connected by threads of closeness that could not be severed. It was as incontrovertible a fact as the shape of her nose or that her sister had died too young. She had known this and said her vows anyway. She had known this and still honestly believed Laurie when he had promised to love and cherish her until death did part them. Never once had she truly thought he considered betraying his vows, and never once had she believed her sister ever wanted him to. Even so, in the infancy of their marriage she had fought this battle that she now saw raging in her husband’s eyes.

She stroked a thumb over his cheek. He closed his eyes, and let out a tired sigh.

“He made you laugh.”

Amy bit her lip to keep from smiling. “Old Mr. Rochester also makes me laugh, but I don’t see you worrying about me spending time with him.”

“I tried to make you laugh all week, and you just snapped at me every time.”

“Well, because, for example, you almost destroyed our flower arrangements--our very expensive flower arrangements--for the party in the process of trying to make me laugh. Besides, you know how I get before these events. I’m insufferable.”

She watched as his lips flexed in stifled amusement. The heavy weight on her chest lifted at the sight.

“Theodore Laurence,” she whispered. “I love you. Only you. Always have, always will.”

His forehead knocked gently into hers. “You do?”

“I do.”

“How much?” His voice was tender, rasping.

“More than those flower arrangements.” She paused for a beat. “But only just barely. Certainly not more than my blue muslin, however.”

He chuckled, the corner of his mouth kicking up. She pressed a kiss there, soft and lingering.

“Theo?”

His eyes finally opened and met hers, and the heat Amy saw reflected there made her stomach clench. He always loved it when she called him that—particularly because no one else did. It was for them. Angling his head, he let his lips drift just over hers, a breath away from touching. Anticipation shivered down her spine.

“Yes, dear?” He answered as he slid hands around her waist.

Her own hands slid down his neck, over his shoulders and down his back as she perched up on her toes to whisper in his ear, “I want my husband to take me to bed.”

He took in a sharp breath, and then his mouth was on hers, hot and claiming. His fingers dug into her sides, and she gripped his shoulders for balance. They stumbled backwards, but neither of them were paying proper attention, so Laurie ended up backing her into the wall beside her vanity instead of the bed. With each stroke of his tongue against hers, the tension inside her wound tighter, and she let out a small moan as he pressed his hips into hers. With an answering hum of pleasure, he broke the kiss and spun her around so quickly that she had to grip the wall to steady herself. His fingers unlaced her underclothes with little trouble, and she shimmied out of them hurriedly. When she faced him again, he had already made quick work of his shirt. Her hands went to his pants, fumbling with the fastenings.

“Faster, wife,” he muttered as he tried, and failed, to help. She huffed in response, unable to hide her grin any more than Laurie was able to hide his own. As she felt the fastenings finally give, she sighed in triumph. That sigh quickly turned into a moan, however, when she felt Laurie’s fingers slide over the heat between her legs. He stroked her slowly, firmly, just the way she liked. Vaguely she heard him kick off his pants, but she was too lost in the pleasure he was giving her to know for certain.

By the time Laurie positioned himself at her core, she was aching for him, and when he entered her, she let out a throaty cry of relief. He moved in and out of her in short, rough thrusts, her leg hitched over one of his arms, the other curled around her lower back for support. The friction between them wound her tighter and tighter until, with one last long slide, it peaked. He groaned and found his pleasure just as she keened and found hers. Together, they rode out the crashing wave until it was just small ripples.

As Laurie cleaned them both up, Amy focused on catching her breath. It had been a claiming, no doubt, but on both sides. She was his, and he was hers. The heat inside her had smoldered down to coals, and now suffused her with a low, satisfied burn. He stood and leaned into her once more, and she looked up at him lazily.

“Now will you take me to bed, husband?”

With a smug grin, he leaned down and kissed her on the tip of her nose. “Certainly, my dear.”

Then he grasped her hand and tugged, and she followed him gladly--always had, always would.

#amy x laurie #amy x laurie fanfiction #amy x laurie fanfic #laurie x amy #5 #my fanfiction #always only you

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awkwardtickleetoo · 3 years

Text

Belated Birthday Surprise

so,,,,, first fic time ig?? hope everyone's doing well on this fine evening. i had a super strong idea and inspiration for this the other day and I couldn't Not write it so now everyone else is forced to read it too

lee!dream, ler!sapnap, 2.6k words

enjoy :)

---

Sapnap had come home from his visit to Karl's house a few hours ago, and as much as Dream was happy that he could go, he really did miss his friend while he was gone. The two of them had hugged when Sapnap walked in, and then agreed to have a movie night after Sapnap took some time to unpack and get settled in. Dream was sitting at his desk getting some work done in the meantime, leg bouncing absent-mindedly and hoodie string between his teeth as he answered some emails and messages. He jerked his head to the side at the sound of a knock at his door, dropping the hoodie string and softly yelling out "come in!" before his door was being pushed open.

"I have a surprise for you," Sapnap said, grinning widely as he held one hand behind his back and used the other to push the door closed behind him. Dream tilted his head in curiosity.

"Should I be worried?"

"No! No, not at all," Sapnap jumped to defend himself almost immediately, which didn't serve to make Dream any less suspicious, but he played along anyway. "Here, c'mere," Sapnap stepped forward until he was in front of Dream's desk chair where he was sitting, reaching his unoccupied hand out for Dream to grab onto.

"I feel like I should be worried," Dream muttered, even more suspicious than before due to the build-up, but he and Sapnap both knew he was just messing around. He grabbed Sapnap's extended hand, standing up and letting his friend guide him.

"You'll be fine, just relax and follow my lead. You'll like this." Sapnap coaxed him over to his own bed, dropping his hand and reaching up to maneuver his shoulders so he was standing straight. "Sit," He pushed on Dream's shoulder so he'd get the message. Dream followed the order, confusion and suspicion more obvious in his face now as he looked up at Sapnap. "Now close your eyes and put your hands out in front of you."

"This feels weird, Sap, I don't like this-"

"Just trust me, okay?" Sapnap pressed with a light shake to Dream's shoulder. "I promise it'll be good." Dream sighed, doing what Sapnap asked and cupping his hands out in front of him. His eyes closed tightly as he chuckled in anticipation.

"I feel stupid."

"Good," Sapnap responded, earning a laugh from his friend.

They were both silent for a moment, until Dream felt two hands grab onto his sides and start squeezing.

"AH, FUCK! Wh-whahaat the hehehell!" Dream yelled out in shock as his eyes shot open, unable to hold in his giggles due to being caught so off guard. He immediately latched onto Sapnap's wrists, trying to pull him off, but Sapnap quickly tackled him back onto the bed and straddled his waist, grabbing Dream's hands and pinning them underneath his knees. Dream was still giggling, both residual from the tickling and now from the knowledge of what his 'surprise' was about to be.

"Sahapnahap, what- what is…" Dream managed through his giggles, pulling at his hands to find them completely stuck under Sapnap's knees. He squirmed side to side as much as he could, giggling louder and dropping his head against the bed when he found that he wasn't getting anywhere. His face flushed in embarrassment and his legs curled up as much as possible until they hit Sapnap's back.

"Dream, let me paint you a picture," Sapnap began, resting his hands flat against Dream's tummy, smirking as he felt the muscles tense underneath his palms and heard his friend's high pitched giggles of anticipation. "Your birthday was last week, as I'm sure you remember, and even though you insisted that it was fine for me to go see Karl— which was very sweet of you, by the way, and thank you again for that— I still felt bad about missing it. I mean, we've been friends for how many years? And this would've been the first time we got to spend one of your birthdays together in person!"

"Ihihi tohold you ihit wasn't a big deheheal," Dream giggled out with a roll of his eyes, finally looking up at Sapnap again as he placed his hand more firmly in the middle of Dream's ribs over his hoodie.

"And I know you meant it, I really do! But it doesn't change the fact that I wanna make it up to you. So, after I told Karl about this idea, we started brainstorming for a while about what the perfect way to do that was, because you deserve nothing short of perfect, mister," Sapnap emphasized his words by saying them in an exaggerated baby voice and tapping the tip of Dream's nose throughout. Dream giggled again and scrunched up his face, turning away from the offending finger.

"Stohop! You're so duhumb," Dream said with a squeaky inhale, closing his eyes to will away some of the redness in his cheeks.

"So, anyway, we were brainstorming ideas, and Karl– the absolute genius he is– came up with the perfect solution!" Sapnap said with a wide smile, moving his hands so his fingers rested right on Dream's ribs. The man in question tensed again, biting his lip to hold down giggles that flowed out anyway.

"Y-yeah? And whahahat's thahat?" Dream asked even though he already knew the answer, heart racing as he stared down at Sapnap's hands.

"Well, silly, it's obvious! I'm shocked I didn't think of it. Birthday tickles!" Sapnap said as he let his thumbs drill into Dream's bottom ribs, giggling to himself at the strangled squeaky noise Dream made in response as he arched his back.

"NO!" Dream practically yelped out before bursting onto bubbly laughter, squeezing his eyes shut again. Sapnap couldn't help but laugh at his friend's reaction, which only served to make Dream's face get even redder. Dream felt Sapnap's thumbs stop drilling his ribs, and instead they rested against them again. He breathed heavily, already winded from his anticipatory giggling and the single press to his ribs.

"Alright, birthday boy, here's the plan. You're 22 now, so I think that means I get to tickle you for 22 minutes!" Dream looked up at him with wide eyes, letting out a small gasp.

"What?! No, no! That's- I can't- that's way too long I- Sapnap, please," Dream knew he wouldn't be able to last that long, but he also knew that Sapnap would never take it that far if Dream genuinely couldn't handle it. The threat was still enough to make Dream's stomach drop like he was on a roller coaster, though.

"Sorry, Dreamie, I don't make the rules, I just follow them. But I do know who you can talk to if you're concerned about those rules…" Sapnap trailed off, using his thumbs that were still resting on Dream's ribs to start rubbing circles into the bones. Dream began giggling again at this, unable to look away from Sapnap's fingers.

"Whoho- uh- who ihis thahat?"

"It's…" Sapnap's hands suddenly formed into claws that hovered above Dream's ribs, and he smiled as he heard Dream's gasp followed by him giggling and sucking in his stomach on reflex and laying as still as possible. Sapnap waited a moment longer, reveling in Dream's stuttered protests of "wait wait stop no please don't" as he pulled at his trapped hands. "Theeeee tickle monster!" And with that, he finally cut the anticipation short and attacked, fingers squeezing and poking rapidly at Dream's ribs. Dream's laughter was immediate.

"AHaha, shihihit! Sahapnahap!" Dream's back arched again, trying to lean to either side to shake off Sapnap's fingers, but each time he tried the tickles only followed him.

"See, isn't this fun already?! You're giggling so much, you must be having a blast!" Dream protested this heavily, but Sapnsp just pretended to ignore his words. "We'll have to tell Karl his idea worked."

"Sahapnap nohohoho! Yohohou cahan't tehehell him anythihing!"

"Oh, yes I most certainly can!" Dream could only laugh in response, knees drumming against Sapnap's back and head shaking to try to calm the unbearable tickly feeling. "Man, Dream, I think I was gone for so long I must've forgotten how adorably ticklish you are!" Dream didn't think his face could get any redder, but Sapnap was always the best at teasing him, and he felt his face heat up even more, spreading to the tips of his ears.

"Shuhuhut UHUP! Ihihi ahaham not!"

"You're not what, not adorable or not ticklish?"

"Neheheitheher, yohohou ahasshole!" Sapnap let out an overexaggerated gasp, looking down at Dream incredulously.

"Neither?! Well, my friend Mr. Tickle Monster strongly disagrees!" Sapnap let his hands travel up Dream's ribs until they reached his armpits, letting his fingers wiggle in there for a few seconds as Dream's laughter shot up an octave. He attempted to clamp his arms down, but due to his hands still being trapped it didn't work that well.

"Sahahahahap!" Was all Dream managed to say in response, loud laughter switching to soft, squeaky, non-stop giggles and gasps when Sapnap's fingers went to flutter against the sides of his neck and under his chin.

"Oh yeah, I forgot you practically melt when this spot is tickled, you're just the cutest thing, aren't you, Dreamie?" Dream's nose scrunched up at the teasing, doing exactly as Sapnap predicted and melting into the blanket underneath his head.

"Sahapnahap plehehehease Ihi- ihit tickles so bahahad-" Dream shook his head to try to dislodge Sapnap's fingers once again, and the man above him smiled even wider.

"Alright, you big baby, you're so ridiculous," Sapnap teased, removing his hands. He reached one hand behind him to squeeze at Dream's knee a few times, laughing loudly at the way Dream yelped in response and kicked his legs out as if he was at the doctor's getting his reflexes tested. Then he used that hand to hold Dream's legs and the other to push himself down so he was now sitting back on his thighs instead of his waist, letting Dream's hands free in the process. It took Dream a few seconds to realize the weight on his hands was gone, but as soon as he did, he pulled them back to hold out in front of him to shield himself from whatever Sapnap's next attack was.

"Yohohou-" Dream cut himself off with a squeaky gasp, and Sapnap was no longer able to hold back his smile at how absolutely adorable his friend was. "Yohohou're insufferable."

"I try." Sapnap's hands then reached up, wiggling fingers hovering over Dream's tummy, and Dream barely even had time to realize what was going on before his eyes widened and he reached out to grab Sapnap's hands. His fingers wrapped around the first three of Sapnap's on either hand, giggling and shaking his head as they still kept up their movements even while Dream was holding them hostage.

"Noho, nonono, not there, please, you know how bad that spot is!"

"Mhm, of course I do, that's why I wanna make it the big finale, buddy!" Sapnap pushed against Dream's hands, which wasn't too hard considering Dream was considerably weaker from how much he'd been laughing the past few minutes. Eventually, he pushed far enough for his thumbs– which weren't being held by Dream's slightly shaky fingers– to reach his stomach and start drawing light circles against it. Dream laughed once again, growing even weaker and letting Sapnap's hands slip out of his grasp in favor of crossing his arms in front of his belly.

"Nohohot thehehere!" He practically whined, too exhausted to really do much else. Despite how hard his arms were clamped to his torso, Sapnap was still able to slip his hands under the hem of Dream's hoodie and scribble his fingers into the skin of his tummy.

Dreams' reaction was instantaneous.

He let out a loud wheeze, trying to turn onto his side and curl up even more as his giggles finally turned to loud laughter, littered with gasps and even a few snorts which caused Dream's eyes to widen in embarrassment and his hands to shoot up to cover his mouth. Sapnap simply shot his hands up to Dream's armpits to coax his hands back down before returning his attention to his belly.

"SAHAHAP! PLEHEHEHEASE! PLEASE I CAHAHAN'T!"

"Alright, alright, here's the real big finale, okay?" Dream's squirming returned in full swing as he watched Sapnap lean his head down towards his stomach, sucking it in again once he felt the cool air of the room on his skin, signifying that Sapnap had pushed his hoodie up. He let out a long string of babbled protests, one hand instinctively covering his face and the other held out to try to push Sapnap's head back (which was a short lived attempt to stop the oncoming tickles, as Sapnap just pushed his wrist down on the bed with his free hand and held it there).

He nearly screamed as Sapnap took a breath and blew a huge raspberry on his tummy, laughter cracking and raising an octave before going completely silent. Sapnap took that as his cue to stop, but not before blowing a few more raspberries, of course.

He pulled Dream's hoodie down over his stomach again, pushing himself off Dream's legs and sitting next to him on the bed with his legs crossed. Once again, it took Dream a second to realize that he was free, but when he did he practically jumped to curl into a ball, arms squeezing around his torso and knees pressing together against his crossed arms. He fell completely onto his side, his legs ending up resting against Sapnap's, as he took some well needed deep breaths and closed his eyes.

"I… literally hate you." He mumbled through his breaths, and Sapnap barked out a laugh that made him laugh as well.

"I'm sorry, I didn't go overboard, did I?"

"No, no, you're all good… It- it was kinda fun, actually…" Sapnap's eyebrows raised at that.

"Really?" He asked with a soft smile, giggling when Dream opened his eyes to try to look at him but quickly flushed bright red again and buried his face in his hands.

"I mean… yeah? I guess it was just nice to… y'know… I dunno… it was nice to do after you got back, was just... fun... I guess?" Dream tried to explain, stumbling over his words as he finally got the courage to look at his friend, face warm and eyes wide, and Sapnap couldn't help but think he looked like a puppy searching for reassurance. He smiled sweetly.

"Awwww, you missed me, that's so cute!"

"Alright, forget it, I don't wanna talk about it," Dream said as he suddenly sat up to get ready to leave. Before he could stand up, however, he felt Sapnap's arms wrap around his waist and pull him back towards him.

"Dream! I'm just trying to have a moment with you, can't we just have a moment?"

"No! Sapnap, let go!" His hands grabbed onto Sapnap's arms yet again, but he wasn't really trying to get away. He let Sapnap pull him down onto his side to lay against the pillows this time, smiling at the way his friend's arms held him tightly around his waist, one hand reaching up to grab near his collarbone. His thumb ended up resting right above the collar of his hoodie and gently brushed over his warm skin.

"Nope! Too bad, now you have to cuddle me," The man behind him said, nuzzling his nose into the back of Dream's neck.

"Ugh, fine," Dream said in feigned annoyance, covering Sapnap's arms with his own and relaxing into the mattress under him. If he had to admit it, he was exhausted, and a nap in this position didn't seem half bad. He closed his eyes and sighed, slowly drifting off.

"Happy belated birthday, Dreamie," Is the last thing he heard before he fell asleep. He supposed the movie could wait until tomorrow.

#this is so nerve-wracking but i like how this came out i think #so i hope other peoole like it too :))#first post type nerves yknow folks #anyway #ler!sapnap #lee!dream #cals writing

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sockablock · 4 years

Text

loosely inspired by this post from @deathonholiday! I’ve been playing Hades nonstop so it was only a matter of time...

— — —

"Oh, great. Did Olympus send you to gawk as well?"

The young man standing before Death paused.

“What?”

Thanatos rolled his eyes. If he hadn’t been bound in chains, he might have crossed his arms too.

“It’s no use playing stupid," he said. "Though you do seem to be a natural.”

“W—hey!”

“You’re not even the first one to come here today,” Thanatos muttered, almost half to himself. “Some war god said he’d free me, then got distracted by a battle and didn’t come back. Typical Olympian.”

The young man sighed. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not a—I’m just a person.”

Thanatos scoffed in response, making the chains on his chest clink together. When he realized the boy was being serious, he scoffed louder.

“Do you expect me to believe that? Your feet are on fire. One of your eyes is...wait, really?”

The young man hesitated. Thanatos had seen his expression before on prey animals that hadn’t quite managed to run away. Still, the boy held his ground, and he could respect that in a begrudging sort of way.

“I really am,” the boy insisted. “I’m just...my mother says I was touched by a god.”

“She’s lying,” said Thanatos. “It’s obvious. Look, I’m Death, it’s my job to know who’s mortal. And I’m good at my job.”

“Really?” said the boy. A glint of mischief rose in his eyes. “Is that why you’re standing in this grove? All tied up?”

“Wh—no. No, I’m choosing to be here.”

“You said ‘one of mine’ promised to ‘free’ you,” he pointed out, to Thanatos’s endless chagrin. “Are these chains are some kind of fashion statement...?”

Death scowled. “Yes, alright. I’m trapped here. Are you happy?”

“Compared to you? I’d imagine so.” The young man took a step forward. “Need a hand?”

Thanatos considered his lean frame, half-hidden in pale green cloth.

“The last...person who handled these chains was stronger than you. By far. Are you sure you’ll be of any use?”

The boy crossed his arms. “Would you rather stay here forever? The way things are these days, that war god might be gone a while.”

Thanatos relented faster than he’d admit. “Untie me,” he said. “I’ve been here for weeks. Hurry up.”

The young man laughed, a weightless sound. It reminded Thanatos of the breeze.

Which he hated. Along with everything else on the surface.

“You aren’t one for thank yous, are you?” the boy asked, but closed the distance and began to work. “Most people learn at an earlier age.”

“I’m Death,” said Death, sounding more petulant than expected. “I’m ageless.”

“You don’t look that much older than me.” The boy wound a finger under a knot of chains and tugged a Thanatos’s left arm free. “You were captured, too. New to the job?”

“I don’t need a lecture from a godling who thinks he’s mortal.” But he did shift his shoulder with a grateful sigh. “Seriously. Who is your mother, anyway?”

The boy hesitated. Thanatos almost told him to get back to work until he caught the furrow in his brow.

“You don’t have to tell me,” he added. “Not if it means you’ll stop.”

The boy’s smile returned at this. “She’s a good woman,” he said instead. “She moved out into the country to protect me when I was born. I was...different from the other children, she said. It was for my safety.”

“Most mortal children don’t have flaming feet.”

“I figured as much,” the young man unraveled another section of chains. “Not that I would know many others.”

Thanatos pulled his other arm from the tangle. “Isolated out here in the middle of nowhere?”

“My grandmother visits sometimes,” the boy hummed. “She seems...a bit cold, but really not so bad.”

“And what does she say about your godhood?” Thanatos said, as the boy knelt to deal with the chains around his legs. He could stretch his arms again, and so he did, with a great sweep. “Blood and darkness, that king has it coming.”

“Is that who managed to capture you?”

“Not important. Your grandmother.”

“She says even less than my mother,” the boy shrugged. “She never wants to talk about the gods. In fact, I’ve met death today—” he straightened up and the last of the chains fell away, “—and I don’t think I even know your name.”

Thanatos stepped out of the pile. He thought about kicking them, then remembered his posture. And the fact that they did belong to him.

“If you were a mortal, I’d be offended.”

“I just saved you, you know.”

Death rubbed his face. Such freedom was incredible.

“Thanatos,” he said eventually.

The young man beamed. “Zagreus. Pleased to meet you.”

He even stuck out his hand. It wasn’t on fire. Thanatos slowly took it.

“Oh—cold,” said Zagreus, though he didn’t pull away. There was something gratifying about being able to surprise this godling.

“I don’t need to remind you who I am, do I?”

Zagreus chuckled. “I don’t think so, Than.”

“Th—what—”

“So,” Zagreus continued, pointedly ignoring this, “I guess this means...that is, if you’ve been stuck here for weeks, I assume you’re missed elsewhere.”

'Missed’ was not the word Thanatos would’ve used, but he nodded anyway. “I have work to do.”

“Then...can I see you later?”

Death blinked. “You—of course not. I mean...you shouldn’t. Not under good terms. Not when I’m...busy.”

Zagreus raised an eyebrow. “You don’t get breaks? That seems inhumane.”

“We aren’t human,” Thanatos reminded him. “Despite what you seem to insist is true.”

“Well! If that’s the case, being a god is worse than being mortal. Divinity shouldn’t be this much work.” Zagreus gave such a goofy smile that it managed to wring a huff out of Thanatos.

“Maybe it’s a good thing you don’t have any domain,” he said. “Your followers would be doomed.”

“And yours aren’t?” Zagreus asked. “You’re death.”

Thanatos rolled his eyes. “I do important work. If you’re really out here in the middle of nowhere, you’d have no idea how much chaos there’s been. Nothing’s been able to die for weeks. You don’t want to know what the wet markets are like.”

“The what?”

He rolled his eyes even harder. He added ‘vegetarian’ to the puzzle that was Zagreus. “Nevermind. Look, I...I doubt I’ll be back here.”

Zagreus’s face fell, and Thanatos was amazed to find himself disappointed too.

“At—well, at least...not for a while,” he managed.

Zagreus grinned. “I can wait.”

Thanatos looked into his mismatched eyes. The cheer he saw in one of them was foreign, but the other, the green one...

...had he seen that before?

Zagreus waved in his face, and Thanatos was back to reality with a scowl.

“And only if I have time,” he said.

“You’re Death. Don’t you have all the time in the world?”

Thanatos sighed. “You’re too quick for your own good. I suppose that’s something you’ve heard before, hasn’t it?”

“I’ll wait in this grove for you, how’s that?” Zagreus said, ignoring him again. “It can be our meeting spot.”

Thanatos found himself unable to argue. Maybe it was whatever felt so familiar about this godling, but mostly...mostly it was Zagreus’s smile.

“It won’t be tomorrow,” he said, for his own sake. “I don’t think it will be soon.”

“Of course not!” Zagreus said. “You’ve got a home to go back to. One that I want to hear all about, next time.”

Thanatos was utterly defeated. “Alright, alright,” he sighed. “Next time. Er.”

He stood there, holding a coil of chains.

Zagreus blinked.

“Yes?”

Thanatos glanced at the ground. “...thank you.”

Zagreus beamed. “You’re welcome.”

And it was too late, the pale green light was already there, already taking him back to the House, but for a second, for just a tiny instant, a faint, distant memory of Than’s childhood resurfaced—

Green eyes, sparkling with kindness and cheer—

“Your mother!” He called suddenly. “Is her n—”

Then he was gone.

Zagreus stood alone in the clearing afterwards, wondering what Death had been trying to say.

But Thanatos did not instantly return. So he shrugged, turned back on flame-licked heels, and went home to where his mother was waiting.

— — —

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#hades game #hades supergiant #hades #thanzag #zagreus #thanatos #mooore or less #oh man i've never written for hades before so!!#please please be kind :3 #long post #hades fic #supergiant #text #hades fanfiction #jay writes #fanfic #fanfiction #fic

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jincherie · 4 years

Text

sunshine riptide | ot7

— COMMISSION —

⊙ — pairing: ot7 x reader ⊙ — genre: hybrid au, fluff, comfort, found family, ac inspired ⊙ — wc: 13.8k+ ⊙ — warnings: oc has an almost/light anxiety attack towards the end. there is no explicitly mentioned trigger and it isn’t dwelled on for long, but better to let u guys know! ⊙ — notes: here it is! it’s soft, and warm, and I hope that it can be something to cheer up a little bit those who aren’t having such a good day. i love u all, and I hope you like this piece :) to the commissioner, thank you for allowing me to write this and I truly hope it helps you feel even just a little bit better! <3

Moving to this island whose inhabitants are mostly hybrids was a bit of an impulse decision, something you did with empty pockets barely a cent to your name. Thanks to the kindness of the island’s ‘mayor’ you have a place to stay, the last spare room in a sharehouse with seven hybrids, and for three months he will pay your rent in exchange for you to work in his shop until you are back on your feet. It’s a sweet deal, but when you begin to get along better than expected with your housemates and the deadline for your departure looms ever closer, you’re not sure you’re going to be able to make yourself leave when the time comes.

— posted; 06.09.2020 | masterlist

“So in exchange for three months paid stay on the island while you get back on your feet, you will work part-time at the Rabbits Den three days a week, and man the desk in the Resident Services Building on Sundays. Is that okay to you?”

You nod eagerly, the ordeal seeming too good to be true and something you’re afraid will be retracted if you don’t act with haste. Mr Bang returns your motion with a little less fervour, the same kind look never leaving his face.

“Perfect, it’s settled then! We’re glad to have you with us, y/n.”

Something lifts from your chest in that moment, as though you’d been walking beneath the cover of a lead blanket and it has finally slipped from your shoulders. You feel a little breathless, and you know the grin that slips onto your face is stupidly wide. Embarrassingly, you feel salty pricks at the corner of your eyes.

“Thank you so much,” you say, and you mean it. It hadn’t exactly been a well thought out plan, moving here with nothing to your name but your most basic possessions, but you’d just needed to escape and start anew and this… this had been the first opportunity you’d seen. The best opportunity you’d seen. “Really, thank you.”

“You’re more than welcome, young lady.” Mr Bang’s expression grows even softer, if possible. “This is a place people come to find refuge, and happiness. You’re welcome here.”

You clear your throat, turning your head to the side and pretending that you need to cough so he doesn’t see the tear that slips out. You have a feeling he knows, though, as you turn back and find him smiling at you, floppy rabbit ears framing his round face. He reaches out, patting you on the shoulder.

“Now, lets find you a room for the night. I’ll send word to the house I have in mind and make sure they have it nice and tidy before your arrival tomorrow. Sound good?”

It hits you only now how tired you are, more emotionally exhausted than anything, and nod while allowing him to lead you down the hall. That does sound good, actually. That sounds amazing.

O – O – O

You’d arrived on this island in the early hours of the morning yesterday, the late-night ferry the only one that runs to this island on the outskirts of the archipelago. It’s likely due to the fact that the captain is a nocturnal hybrid, and hence prefers to run his business under the cover of night. You hadn’t been able to sleep on the trip over, so when Mr Bang had shown you to the room he was happy to lend you for the night, despite it being barely ten o’clock in the morning you’d passed out the second your head hit the pillow. It was more of a nap than anything, but you suspect that the events of the past few months all caught up to you at once because you woke only for dinner and then fell asleep once more. Mr Bang offered no judgement, and simply left a note instructing you where the bathroom is and where you could find towels so that you could freshen up once you awoke. He also left you a coffee bun in a container, since you’d missed the afternoon tea he held the day before.

You hadn’t even been on this island a day and already the kindness of one of the residents was almost bringing you to tears.

Due to the fact that you’d slept far too early, you end up waking up at an ungodly hour the next day, the day you are meant to be moving in to the sharehouse that Mr Bang told you about. Laying in the bed, nestled in the warmth of the covers and watching as the suns rays slowly begin to stain the ceiling and the curtains in rich marigold, you do your best to get yourself together. You can breathe easy now, any anxiety you’d felt previous now nothing more than an echo in your chest. You feel refreshed, and not just from the ridiculous amount of sleep you’ve had in the past twenty-four hours. There are of course some nerves pertaining to meeting your new housemates, but it’s manageable. You have faith that everything will turn out well. It’s a good feeling.

Mr Bang is kind enough to offer you breakfast, and likely would have pushed you to stay for lunch had you not shown up down the stairs with your baggage already in tow. So begrudgingly, he allows you to head on your way, informing you that your new housemates knew of your arrival and had endeavoured to tidy up as much as possible. You thought it was a little funny he was telling you that—just how messy is the house usually?—but he simply shook his head with a smile that told you the answer would come soon enough.

The island isn’t big, but it most definitely isn’t small. The sun is warm and the air cool with a tinge of salt and sea trailing along the breeze, and the path you walk along that skirts the beach is peppered with sand and the odd shell. It makes you happier than anticipated, because just being out here makes you feel so free. Mr Bang told you that the house where you will be staying is on the other side of the island, past the little cluster of shops and small businesses and perched at the edge of the sand, backing onto a river that flows into the ocean and skirted on one side by a small cliff.

“It’s their own little alcove,” Mr Bang had snorted, a mixture of fondness and amusement evident on his features. “They get up to more trouble than I can keep track of over there, but they’re good boys.”

Ah, that’s right. You’d almost forgotten; your new housemates are a bunch of boys. You hope that Mr Bang is right about their character and you won’t be living in discomfort for the next three months.

The path wound and curved a bit, following the edge of the island, and before long you were walking through a section of light forestry. You suspected the house would be on the other side, and were in the midst of thinking just what it would look like when a small squeak! catches your attention and you halt, almost dropping your bag.

It’s silent, save for the way the breeze caresses the leaves around you. You peer around, eyes unable to spot anything in the foliage. Did you imagine it? It’s a little early in your stay to be going crazy. Hesitantly, you adjust your grip on your bag and resume your trek.

Squeak! S-squeeeak!

No, you definitely heard that. You freeze, having gotten a better sense of where the sound is coming from now and turning towards a large tree smothered in vines of varying thickness and clinginess. For a moment, you don’t see anything, eyes squinting hard—it’s like one of those I spy books you used to rave about as a kid— and just when you think you might be looking in the wrong place, you catch movement.

There, in a cluster of the vines dangling from one of the tree’s thicker limbs, is a tiny creature, all tangled up and squeaking in distress.

“Oh my goodness,” you drop your bag, immediately moving closer. “Poor thing—hold on just a second, bub. I’ll get you out. Promise not to bite me?”

The creature offers a squeak and logically you know it isn’t answering your request, but you pretend it is anyway. Carefully stepping over plants and twigs, thanking past you for wearing more practical boots, you reach where the creature is stuck, dangling just below eye level.

The vines it has managed to get all tangled up in aren’t particularly thick, but there are a lot of them, and it has managed to get a few of its limbs stuck in place. Carefully, you snap a few of the more central ones and ease the tiny thing out, getting a better view of it the more you pull from its body. It’s squeaking all the while, though with much less distress and more of an energy that simply feels chatty. It makes you smile.

“There you go,” you murmur, cradling the tiny baby in your palms and cooing, trying to calm the heartbeat and hurried breaths you can feel racing against your skin. You stroke along its back as lightly as you can manage. “Oh, you’re a little sugar glider! You’re so pretty, such a cutie. Look at your markings, wow… so pretty.”

Almost as though it can understand your praise and is basking in it, it flicks its bushy tail and rolls in your palm, like a cat rubbing against something with its cheek except this little glider is doing it with its whole body. It’s awfully friendly, you note. Perhaps much of the wildlife here is more peacefully accustomed to human and hybrid activity.

“Okay, you’re free now. I’ll stop ogling at you and let you go,” you say, holding your hands up to a part of the tree that isn’t covered in vines lest there be a repeat of the earlier situation. The sugar glider merely blinks, eyes still on you, and doesn’t move. Brows drawn in confusion, you move your hands closer to the tree, “Well, aren’t you going to—oh!”

Faster than you can react, the little thing darts from your hands, leaping to your bicep and scurrying up with tiny claws in your shirt to your shoulder. Once at its apparent destination, it rushes to the crook of your neck and makes itself at home, nestling against you and securing itself with its tail partway around the back of your neck and its little paws clutching your shirt edge. You giggle, still in shock and trying not to jostle it off as you fight the ticklish sensation.

“Okay. I guess you can come with me. I’m not sure if you can stay the whole while, but I’m sure it will be okay while I walk.”

So off you go, bending and retrieving your bag carefully so you don’t dislodge your tiny new companion. You’ve seen a bit of sugar gliders, but the way this one is acting is quite peculiar. If it sticks around until you arrive at the house, you’d love to snap a quick picture because it really is so pretty, so cute.

The trip is faster than anticipated, now there is something else to occupy your thoughts. Before you know it you’re out of the forestry and approaching a large, modern three storey building that is probably just a few yards short of a mansion, nestled between the ocean, the river, and a short cliff-face just barely higher than the roof. This is the place for sure.

The little glider seems to perk up, the closer you get, something that surprises you since it was so quiet you thought it was asleep. With a soft noise, it grabs onto your hair with tiny paws and scurries to the top of your head, likely making a mess of it in the process but it’s so cute you can’t bring yourself to mind. At least it will be an interesting first impression.

As you approach the front door, you think you see movement in one of the windows on the ground floor. You almost dismiss it as you reach the eve, until you catch the hurried patter of feet against hardwood from beyond the door.

You barely manage to blink before the door is flying open, a man with raven curls and two fluffy russet ears peeking between the locks presenting you with the biggest grin you have ever seen on anyone’s face. It’s boyish and cute, a direct contrast to the mature, sculpted features of his face.

“Hello!” he says, and you catch sight of a long, fluffy russet tail whipping behind him and betraying his excitement—not that he was doing much to hide it. “You must be the new roomie! It’s nice to meet you! We’ve been waiting all morning, and one of us actually went to pick you up but… I’m not sure where he is.”

You’re a little overwhelmed but easily recover when he simply keeps looking at you so happily, returning the man’s bright smile. There’s rustling in your hair at the back of your head but you ignore it, adjusting your grasp on your bag. “Ah, thank you. I’m y/n, it’s nice to meet you…?”

The man pulls back, a sheepish look on his face that accompanies a light flush in his cheeks. “Oh, right. I’m Taehyung. Sorry. My hyungs tell me I tend to get a bit ahead of myself sometimes.”

You keep the smile on your face. “That’s okay, we got there in the end. It’s nice to meet you, Taehyung.”

Taehyung brightens, tail curling happily behind him. He opens his mouth to say something, but is interrupted from a voice to the side.

“Are you going to make our poor new housemate wait outside all day, Tae?”

The light blush colouring Taehyung’s cheeks deepens, a sheepish laugh escaping. “No. I was just about to invite her in!”

He steps back and reveals the person behind him who had spoken, a tall man with dimples and silvery hair that did little to conceal the large, rounded grey ears atop his head. He seems a little awkward in his stance, like he has more body than he knows what to do with, but still extends an arm in greeting with a kind smile. “y/n, is it? Welcome, please come in. I hope you’ll enjoy your stay here with us, however brief. We’re happy to have you.”

Don’t cry, don’t cry! If you cry now you can never show your face here again. You clear your throat, returning his smile as you step inside and out of the sun, the difference in temperature against your skin immediate. “Thank you, I really appreciate your generosity in letting me stay here.”

“Nonsense,” Taehyung snorts, “Namjoon-hyung has been saying for months we should find someone to fill the spare room, and now you show up on our doorstep! It’s perfect.”

The taller, who Taehyung had referenced as Namjoon, seems a little bashful, his cheeks heating. Does everyone in this house blush so easily? You hope it’s not contagious.

There is movement in your hair again, the glider apparently needing to breathe, and you have your mouth open ready to explain when Namjoon beats you to it.

“Oh, I see you’ve met Jimin already!”

What?

The glider leaps from your head and onto Taehyung’s outstretched arm, climbing to his head before leaping from that too and gliding through the air, all the way around the corner. There is a small clutter, the sound of a light swearword entering the air, and then the ever-familiar patter of feet against hardwood. Another boy rounds the corner, ashy-blond hair tousled and parted by two small grey ears, bushy tail curling behind him.

He skids to a stop in front of you, dipping in a brief bow before rising and shooting you a bright smile. “Hello! Thank you for helping me! I’m Jimin, welcome home!”

It takes all of your willpower to keep the happy tears at bay as you tilt your head back and laugh, already feeling lighter than you ever remember feeling before.

O – O – O

Your next introductions to the hybrids you will be sharing your home with for the next three months go much smoother and without as many surprises as the last ones. Jimin, who seems to have warmed up to you quickly, was more than happy to take you on a tour of the house and to go through introductions while he was at it. He happily told you who was what hybrid as well, without you asking. You figured that he realised your underperforming human nose wouldn’t be able to tell, so he took the initiative and you’re thankful for it, because you were curious.

The oldest resident of the house is Seokjin, a red-panda hybrid who goes on a spree of stress-baking every time exam season rolls around. Most of the hybrids study online, as you learnt from Jimin’s excited chattering. The second you met Jin, as he preferred to be called, you were stunned at how handsome he was. Of course, any awe that rooted you to the spot quickly dissipated as he said a joke so painfully funny it left you with whiplash between the urge to roll your eyes and guffaw. You like him, though. He’s nice.

You quickly discover that all the inhabitants of this house are, though. Yoongi is the second oldest and a squirrel glider hybrid—something Jimin said he found funny since he was closest to Jimin, a sugar glider, and Hoseok, the third oldest and a sunny squirrel hybrid. He giggled as he told you, and you couldn’t hide your own smile even as Yoongi’s ear had flicked and he’d shot the two of you a suspicious look. The little fun fact Jimin had told you about Yoongi had taken you by surprise; he remotely operates the island’s radio, many of the tunes ones he has created himself. Often, if there is a festival, he will volunteer his time to work the music jobs there, too. Apparently Namjoon also pitches in, and Hoseok when he has free time outside of the classes he teaches on the other side of the island.

Hoseok is a dancer, Jimin had gushed, and while he teaches at the school part time, he also volunteers time outside of that to hold dance classes for the kids. Jimin told you that he joins occasionally, but less often lately since his workload for university has increased. He did tell you, though, that the youngest of the house had all but taken his place, his youthful heart at home mucking around with kids and helping them learn.

Jungkook is his name, and Jimin informed you with a very fond and very amused look that he is rather shy, so you might not see him for a few days. Apparently it had been uttered just loud enough for the hybrid in question to catch it though, because there was a tumbling sound from the floor above and a series of stomping footsteps. A head of long, wavy inky hair had popped over the railing, grey ears pinned back as a baby-faced boy delivered a glare to the blonde to your side.

“Hyung! That’s not true! I’m not too shy to even introduce myself!” he had defended himself avidly, red-faced and huffy. When his eyes turned to you, mouth open to follow through on his words, he abruptly shrank and all that escaped was a squeak. It took him a moment to conjure speech once more, and this time he was noticeably less bold. “I’m—I’m Jungkook! It’s nice to meet you! I have to go now! Goodbye!”

And then he was gone, and so concluded your final introduction to the residents you had yet to meet. You thought you had a good feeling when you first arrived, but now that you’ve met everyone and everything feels that bit more real, you find yourself thinking…

It’s a really good feeling.

O – O – O

“It’s not what it looks like!”

You raise a brow, book in hand as you stand at the edge of the sand bank where green bleeds into gold. Against your heels is cool grass, and your toes are dipped in the gentle warmth of the sand. Namjoon sits in front of you, beneath a tree protruding from the dune, with a bundle of leaves in his hand and a guilty look in his face.

“Isn’t eucalyptus toxic to humans and hybrids?”

“I’m not eating it!” Namjoon waves his hands in a frantic bid to assure you, eyes wide, and almost drops the leaves in question. His large, grey ears flick in his distress. “I was just… I know I can’t eat it but it smells so good… I was just sniffing it. It calms me.”

You let out a light laugh, walking closer and plopping down on the sand beside him, beneath the generous shade the tree offers. The sea breeze is kind and cools your skin where it smarts from the sun, tickling your neck and manipulating your hair into a tumbleweed. Namjoon snorts, helping you get it back in order.

“No judgement,” you say, crossing your legs and placing your book in your lap for the meantime. “Just wanted to make sure I wouldn’t have to take you to a hospital, because I do not know where to find one on this island.”

Namjoon grins, rosy cheeks complimenting his skin the way it glows gold in the sun’s glare. “You’d drag little ol’ me all the way to the hospital if you knew where it was?”

“Well, yeah,” you laugh, sifting sand through your fingers as you relish the sound of waves crashing barely a yard away. It’s so peaceful, you feel so at peace. “Since none of you seem to know what a car is.”

“We had a car,” Namjoon admits, face flushing violently as he averts his gaze, turning his head. “There was just, um, an unfortunate incident… that may have involved a tree, or two…”

You decide not to probe further, lest your current good impression of Namjoon come under threat. A beat of silence passes, before Namjoon shuffles, placing the bundle of leaves back on the grass. He angles his body a little more towards you, sniffing subtly.

“So… how is your stay so far? Is everything going okay?”

You can’t hide the expression of surprise that makes its way to your face as you turn to him, blinking. You don’t know what you were expecting, but for some reason it hadn’t been that. It’s awfully nice of him.

You’ve been on the island almost a week now. The interactions you’ve had with your housemates so far, though not too bountiful, have all been pleasant, and you genuinely have nothing to complain about. You haven’t seen much of Jungkook, Hoseok, or Yoongi—but that mostly comes down to incompatible work hours and commitments. Mr Bang’s nephews run the Rabbit’s Den, the local convenience store that occasionally hosts a few exotic goods, and they have been nothing short of helpful, polite, and friendly while you worked there. You have worked a single shift at the Resident Services Building too, and it was pretty chill. A few residents came in, happily introduced themselves to you, and then you helped them with whatever had warranted their visit. All in all, your stay has been amazing so far.

“It’s been good,” you say, and it feels so nice to have the words escaping your mouth be true to the warmth in your chest. “Everyone here is super nice. It does feel a bit odd though, sometimes I feel like I’m the only human here.”

“Oh, yeah. You are,” Namjoon huffs an amused laugh. “You’re the first human Mr Bang has allowed on this island.”

Your surprise is evident, and it makes him smile when he turns his head to give you a sly look. “He must have had a good feeling about you. Rabbit hybrids tend to rely a lot on their gut feelings and intuition.”

“Oh,” you say, cheeks warming. Well, you’re glad he had decided to let you in. You say as much to Namjoon, and he smiles brightly at you.

“We’re glad he decided to let you in, too.”

You’re not sure what to say to that, a little embarrassed from the unexpectedness of it—was he really telling the truth? You’d hardly spent any time with some of your other housemates…

A calm silence begins to settle between you, and you take the time to open your book and resume where you left off. You get so carried away reading that when you finally look up some time later, the sight to your side almost makes you gasp.

Namjoon had, at some point, fallen asleep in a little patch of sunlight that manage to pierce through the foliage—in the place of the large, long-limbed man you had been talking to is now a considerably smaller fluffy koala, sitting upright and snoozing lightly. You suspect this isn’t the most ideal position for him to be sleeping in, though, because every few moments he will sway on the spot, almost tipping but not quite going far enough to have an abrupt meeting with the sand.

You coo, unable to help it, but the sound quickly grows alarmed when he leans too far—before you can think your arms shoot out to hold him up, but it seems there is something true to what is said about koalas being clingy because the second he feels something touch him, koala Namjoon clings.

You squeak, a fully-grown koala now wrapped around your forearm. Slowly, you bring it closer to you (feeling your bicep burn all the while because damn is he heavier than he looks!), planning to use your other hand to ease him off, but it seems that the second you’re close enough he can sense your warmth and he wants in. You sit, exasperated and amused, with a koala now latched to your midriff, arm forgotten. Both your hands are now free, but at what cost?

You figure that he’ll probably let go when he wakes up, or he might fall back into the sand in his sleep, but until then you resign yourself to unexpected but definitely not unwelcome koala cuddles. You just hope he won’t be too embarrassed when he wakes up; you can already see him stuttering and going red in your mind’s eye. It brings a chuckle to your lips, and with a smile on your face you return to your book once more, a little more content than before.

O – O – O

It’s been a while since you’ve had to deal with the dreams.

Usually, once they start you can wake yourself up, or you can manage to turn them around if they’re one you’ve had before. But some nights, when the dreams come, you’re helpless but to see them play out. Sometimes they’re not that bad, but even the milder ones leave you with a nauseous ball of anxiety beneath your lungs and a feeling of discomfort that digs claws deep in your bones.

About three weeks into your stay, you wake up after one such dream, a cursory glance to your phone and the painful glare of its screen revealing it to be the early hours of the morning. For a moment you simply lay, blinking, with your gaze rooted on the ceiling. You had strung up some fairy lights around your dresser, and on the plaster above you the soft colourful rainbow of their hue meshes and blends with the cool pools of moonlight slipping through your curtains.

Absently, and with a sense of resignation that you feel in your bones, you strip the cover back and climb out of bed, deciding you may as well grab some water since you’re likely not going to be able to fall asleep very easily anytime soon.

As you make your way through the levels to the ground floor where the kitchen resides, you’re careful to be as quiet as possible—you’re not sure how successful your effort is but you do know that quite a few of your housemates have been inundated with coursework lately and you don’t want to disturb any of the valuable rest they need so badly. Jimin had looked so wiped out yesterday that you’d literally had to pull him away from the dishes and send him to bed. He complained on the way, but as soon as his head hit his pillow he was out, leaving you in a mixture of awe and concern. He explained as soon as he woke the next morning that he had been up all night completing an assignment, and it made you realise just how exhausted a lot of your roommates seem lately. You hope this period passes soon for them; you may not have been here long but you have grown to care for them and you don’t like seeing them so unwell.

You’re just pondering this when you reach the ground floor and venture into the kitchen, thoughts and feet coming to an abrupt stop as you take in the sight that greets you there.

Seokjin is standing by the bench, hands moving slowly as he puts something together just out of your view. A quick survey of the rest of the countertop tells you that he’s making lunches, and while ordinarily this would touch your heart (as it does every time you see how each of the hybrids in this house cares for each other), this time you’re overcome with a strong wave of concern.

Delicately put, Seokjin looks dead on his feet.

Every few moments his head bobs down, chin almost hitting his chest before he jerks awake just long enough to lift his head, before the cycle repeats once more. He looks so exhausted you’re impressed he managed to make as many lunches as he did. Though, from the looks of it he’s only about halfway through.

“Hey, Seokjin… are you okay?”

The hybrid jumps, the startle you gave him probably rendering him more awake than he has been in a few hours.

“Wh—what are you doing awake?” he sputters, having to lean against the bench so that he doesn’t fall over. “It’s almost midnight!”

You can’t help the look you give him, a mixture between amusement and concern. “Um… it’s a little past midnight actually… probably closer to two… are you alright?”

Seokjin blinks at you for a second while your words sink in, before he sags with a light groan, bringing a hand up to scrub at his eyes.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, voice thick with sleepiness. His bushy, striped tail sways behind him before curling around his thigh. “I’m just… kind of wiped out. I was up finishing a part of a really big assessment piece and it took longer than I thought… I was going to go to bed but then I remembered that I hadn’t prepared the boys’ lunches, and I always do that, so I came down here and…”

He makes a great, sweeping gesture over the mess on the bench, a result of his patchy attention. A huff of laughter escapes him. “Yeah.”

“I’m glad you finished your piece, but… do you really have to make their lunches? I think you should probably get some sleep…”

You were a little worried he might take your words the wrong way, but you can tell from the serene expression on his face that he doesn’t. “I always do it. If I don’t, then they might worry about me, and I don’t want them to worry about me when they should spend that energy worrying about themselves. Plus, I don’t know if I’d be able to sleep if I knew they weren’t done.”

You return his amused smile, taking a step closer and willing yourself to speak the idea that had come to mind.

“Well, considering I found you almost sleeping on the spot when I came down, I think you should probably call it a night and get some rest. I’d be happy to finish up and make sure the lunches are done, if you’d like?”

You can see the resistance immediately, the tall man opening his mouth to refuse—but he halts, and for a moment slips into his own thoughts. Sensing that he just needs a little push, you continue, “If you tell me what you usually make, I should be able to finish the rest of them without too much trouble.”

He blinks, and in that moment you see the rest of his exhaustion flood to the surface. He sniffles, unable to fight the yawn that rises. “… Okay. If that’s really alright with you…?”

You laugh, reaching to bump Seokjin’s side. “Of course it is. I don’t mind at all, especially if it means you’ll go to sleep in your bed and not on the kitchen floor. Now, what do you normally make…?”

Letting out a soft laugh, Seokjin does his best to stay awake long enough to instruct you on what he makes and how he makes it for the remaining members of the household. You can’t help but notice throughout his explanation that he doesn’t seem to make lunch for himself despite making it for everyone else, and as he finally plods off to bed and passes out, you make the decision that you’re going to make some lunch for him too. It takes you a brief google search on the diet of red pandas and their hybrid counterparts, as well and recalling what you know of Seokjin’s taste in food, but it doesn’t take you too long to decide on what to make. You work through the lunches one by one, grateful for the distraction, and complete the task fully when Seokjin’s sits primly next to the rest. You pile them all into the fridge, washing your hands again before grabbing the water you originally came down for, and then you’re making the trip back upstairs to your own bed, a soft smile on your face and a warm satisfaction curling around your lungs. You fall asleep easier than expected for a night where you had one of those dreams, but there most definitely aren’t any complaints to be found as you drift off with a faint smile on your lips.

The next day, it’s only a little before midday when Seokjin finally rises from his slumber and makes his way downstairs. Blearily, he reaches the kitchen and heads straight to the fridge, attempting to think through his sleep-addled brain what he should make for lunch. Those thoughts are interrupted as he catches sight of a box he hasn’t seen outside of the little tupperware cupboard by the stove in ages sitting on the middle shelf, a little paper tag with ‘for Seokjin’ scribbled onto it perched on top.

He pulls it out and places it on the bench, staring in confusion. It takes him an embarrassingly long time to kick his limbs into gear and open it, but from that point on the realisation comes quickly with the memory of last night.

You’d gone and made lunch for him, too. And from the looks of it, you’d paid great attention to what to include.

His stomach rumbles violently as he takes in the sight of berries and the bamboo shoots he usually stores in the fridge that you must have taken the time to boil and season. There is a sandwich in there as well but he doesn’t need to check whether he will like it because he can already smell the salmon.

He doesn’t know what to think, or really what to say. He knows he’s just lucky you’ve already gone to work at the Rabbit’s Den because otherwise you would probably be here and risk seeing his eyes tear up a little.

A side effect from being sleepy and stressed is the dramatics, he knows, but still… he can’t help but notice the warm feeling that lingers in his stomach when he thinks of how nice you are to do such a thing.

O—O—O

“You’re gonna love it when we get there, y/n! It’s so pretty, and there’s so much fruit… I’m going to feast.”

You can’t help but let out a laugh, thoroughly enjoying the company of your two housemates and the combination of cool breeze and warm sunlight the air offers as they kiss your skin. It’s earlier in the morning than you tend to wake up, but you’ve been invited out on an exclusive adventure and you aren’t in any position to say no. For the past few weeks you’ve noticed that on a Saturday and Sunday morning, Taehyung tends to disappear. You don’t know where, and each time you saw him again you forgot to ask, but finally the opportunity had arisen for you to sate your curiosity. Happily, the lemur hybrid had informed you that there is a small section of the island towards the north that is absolutely packed with trees, bushes and otherwise, all peppered with ripe fruit. Some days he goes to tend to them, but on the weekends he confessed to you that he normally goes to harvest the literal fruits of his labour.

“Just don’t eat all of the tamarind again, Jiminie, or I will have to kill you myself.”

Jimin lets out a loud laugh, stumbling in his gait for a moment from the force of it. “Yessir! Understood, sir!”

Taehyung’s lips quirk into a smile, and he returns his gaze to the front to continue marching ahead and leading the two of you to his secret spot. You adjust your hold on the woven bag over your shoulder, brushing away some of the more unruly strands of hair that have made their way across your face by riding on the breeze.

“Thanks again for inviting me, Tae,” you say, unable to hide the skip in your step as you plod along after them, smiling brightly. “I’ve been wanting to explore more—it feels wrong that I’ve been here for a month and barely seen everything there is to see.”

Taehyung spins to flash you a beaming grin over his shoulder, ears flicking and tail curling happily. “Of course, it’s no problem! I did wonder if you’d like to come some time, so I’m glad you mentioned it the other day.”

Jimin gasps, the sound somewhere between playful and affronted. “You asked her yourself to come?! I had to beg for weeks! Weeks!”

“I told you, the fruit weren’t done when you first asked!” Taehyung whines, reaching back and pausing in his steps just long enough to whack Jimin on the shoulder. “You just didn’t listen!”

“I’m baby,” Jimin says, whether in affirmation or explanation you’re not sure. It manages to tear a laugh from Taehyung either way, and you’re no different.

You’re not left stewing in anticipation for long; before you know it you’re broaching the place that Taehyung and Jimin speak so highly of. Rounding a corner, you come across a large grove that ends beyond what your eyes can see—some trees curl and wind, others stand straight and proud with their roots covered modestly with smaller shrubbery. Vines cling and string around some trunks, but the one thing all of the flora in front of you has in common is that they’re all ripe with fruit, ready to be picked.

“Oh wow,” you remark, barely aware you’ve even said anything. A deep laugh sounds from beside you and you turn to see Taehyung grinning brightly, tail curling happily behind him and his little ears flicking with glee.

“Pretty, right? Some of these were already growing here when I found it, like the apples, but the rest of it I planted over time. I’m proud of how it’s turned out.”

“You should be!” you exclaim, pointing to the fruit displayed in the very image of temptation before you all. “Dude, they look delicious.”

“They are!” Jimin chimes in, flitting past you and snagging his finger in your sleeve as he goes to drag you along. “Come on, there’s a mulberry tree up the back and it has the juiciest berries. We have to pick them now before all the birds and fruit bats get them.”

Laughing, you allow the sugar glider hybrid to lead you into the grove of greenery, the man ducking and weaving around branches with ease as his feet follow a path well-worn into the dirt and grass. The splotches of sunlight that filter through the foliage are pleasant where they warm your skin, breeze ensuring you don’t get too hot beneath the kiss of a star. In the shadows of the trees, it is actually much cooler than you expected, but you can’t help but feel that the temperature, the air, the sights—everything feels perfect.

The mulberry tree, fondly called Ol’ Bessy as Jimin had eagerly informed you, is a large, looming monster of a tree with a plethora of winding trunks and subordinate thin branches that dangle and sway in the breeze in the image of a weeping willow. When you comment on the sheer size of it, Taehyung simply shrugs and tells you with a smile that it’s been here a long time, before anyone was on the island.

The three of you don't have much desire to waste any more time standing and dawdling, and so you begin your activity for the day, woven bags and baskets prepared and at the ready. You inspect the mulberries that are hanging lowest, spying the occasional green one but becoming easily appeased when you find bunches of ripe ones, plump and fit to burst as they weigh the thinner branches down.

Gathering them is harder than anticipated, because you hadn't accounted for the fact they they're, well, berries. It takes a few attempts and more than a few instances of stained hands before you figure out the best way to pluck them from the tree without bursting them. Taehyung saw the first one you popped and the way it went all up your arm, and hasn't stopped laughing since.

The three of you bounce between fruits and trees, filling your containers with whichever you prefer. After a while though you all seem to have the same idea to congregate at the mulberry tree. Admittedly, you hadn't been able to stop yourself from munching on some of the fruits as you picked them, but as you look at them and see berry stains around their mouths and apple leaves in their hair, you feel a little less guilty about it. Taehyung places his basket down, leaning it securely against the base of the tree trunk, before dusting his hands with a sharp clap and then resting them on his hips.

"Right," he says, eyes alight. "There's just one more tree to visit. I think you're gonna love it."

You tilt your head, wondering just what other kind of fruit he has up his sleeve when already you've picked so many. Surely he's constrained even a little bit by the climate? Or does he have magically green thumbs? Jimin giggles at your confused expression.

"How good are you at climbing trees?"

The question gives you pause. "Uh... decent? I suppose?"

"Great!" Taehyung exclaims, picking his basket back up and closing the lid to help secure it on his back. "Let's go!"

Once more you're lead in between and through the trees and shrubs, following the gleeful lemur hybrid and his grinning companion back to the middle of the grove. Before long you're stumbling to a halt, having reached the location and wondering how on earth you managed to miss this tree before.

It's bigger than Ol' Bessy by a decent margin, but confusion filters through you when you can't seem to spot any fruit hanging from its branches. You turn to Taehyung, about to question him, but he simply grins and darts over to the massive trunk (really, you don't think two of you could hug it from either side and have your fingers touch, it's so big). It's only after he begins scaling it with alarming ease that you take note of the grooves and footholds curled into the trunk, making it a naturally perfect tree for climbing. Jimin darts up after his friend, apparently also well-versed in the art of climbing this tree, and breaks you from your awed reverie with a shout over his shoulder.

"Come on, y/n! Or Tae is gonna take the good spot!"

Unsure what he means and unsure if you're willing to find out via Taehyung following through on that, you scramble to follow after them and do your best to climb.

It's easier than anticipated, actually, and dare you say it... relaxing. Though you're going higher and higher with each branch you clear, and see less of the ground and more of the canopy with each step, you can't say you're all that scared, or worried. If anything, it's as though a moment of peace has been captured in a bubble, and now settles like cool mist on a spring morning at the bottom of your chest.

In sharp contrast to the cool breeze that brushes your face as you emerge from the thickest part of the foliage, the sun is quick to kiss warmth back into your cheeks. For a moment, you have to pause in your climb, because the view around you is simply so beautiful you're at an absolute loss for words.

From here, the highest point in the grove, you can see a vast majority of the island, a sweeping panorama of lush greens and soft sands that blend into the crystalline waters of the ocean, sunlight turning the surface to a sea of diamonds. Along the stretch of beach, in the distance, you can just barely glimpse the sharehouse, and on the other side of the island the little market square where all the stores and restaurants are appears as smudges and blobs of dark colours.

"It's so beautiful, right?"

You're so immersed in your observation that for a second you almost don't even register that someone is talking to you. Mouth open in awe, you simply turn your expression to Taehyung; the lemur laughs, almost tumbling back from the force of it, and you're shocked back into the moment with worry until you see what stopped him from falling.

Here, at the very top of the tallest tree in Taehyung's secret grove, he has built a small little fixture, a deck with enough space for four people to squeeze onto it at most. It hugs the trunk of the tree and is braced on the few thick branches that split from the tree beneath it. A lot of it is untouched, natural wood, but the bottom is made of processed planks and some of the short balcony ledge has been painted with acrylics, little scenes spanning the length of the strips. You didn't know Taehyung painted, but figure you'll bring it up at another time when you aren't precariously clinging to the top of a massive tree.

Taking the hand that both men offer you, you haul yourself carefully up and onto the deck, marvelling as you get an even clearer view of the island from your new position.

"It really is," you answer him, somewhat belatedly. When the two of them settle down, tree swaying much like you imagine a ship would on the vast expanse of the ocean, you follow suit, with your back pressed securely to the trunk.

Jimin is already flinging open his container, smacking it onto the wood in front of him, and Taehyung laughs once more, the sound so freeing and light that it makes that little bubble of peace in your abdomen expand ever so slightly.

"And now, we feast!" The lemur says, eagerly opening his own basket and setting it in front of him, besides Jimin's. They're both set to overflow from the amount of fresh, ripe fruit piled in.

They shamelessly and unabashedly dig in, eliciting a laugh from you as you move your own bag before you to do the same. It's nice, the perfect lunch in more ways than one; the small amount of foliage above you offers just enough shade that you want for nothing more in the moment besides maybe a pillow or two, everything else accounted for in excess.

You're not sure how long you spend there, but you do know that the sun has made a decent amount of headway in its journey across the sky by the time the three of you are done stuffing your stomachs full, laying across the deck and squinting until the clouds swimming leisurely across the sky begin to resemble something you can put a name to. It's fun, and light, and for what is alarmingly far from the first time, you find yourself so thankful for the choices you made and the path that led you here, to be staying on this beautiful island with these lovely boys.

By time you finish and the three of you are heading back, you’ve eaten through half of the fruit and the boys are so full and sleepy from the big day that they’ve shifted into their animal forms and are now clinging to you, Taehyung with his long limbs around your neck and Jimin with his tiny paws clinging to the hair at the top of your head. You suspect he’s made himself another little nest up there, but can’t find it in yourself to be upset with him for it especially when the soft sounds and chitters he makes to communicate with Taehyung are so damn cute.

The trip back is shorter than you recall, and before you know it you’re approaching the sharehouse once more, it’s looming sides graced with the warm gleam of afternoon sun. Jimin and Taehyung are asleep as you reach the front door, and you’re saved from having to move all the bags and baskets in your hold to open the door when it opens for you. Hoseok is standing there, a startled look gracing his features that quickly blends into one of fondness as he sees his friends, something that makes your cheeks warm ever so slightly.

“Good day?” he asks, stepping back to let you in. You nod, unable to help the wide grin touching your lips.

“Yeah, it was.”

O – O – O

‘…They should be setting up a tower soon, so hopefully it won’t be long before I can call you again. But until then, I look forward to every letter you send, bubbles.

Write back soon! I miss you.

Love, Dad’

You sniffle, trying not to let out the tears that are so close to slipping from your eyes. You’re not all that upset, you love receiving letters from your father, but it’s just… a little bittersweet. You’d moved here to escape your family, following a certain incident that you’re not keen to revisit, and your father had always been and will always be supportive of you— but it’s hard, when he’s halfway across the globe on one expedition or another.

It was only in the past ten years that your father managed to snag the job of his dreams and follow the passion he’s harboured since he was a child, graduating from his career as an accountant through attention garnered from numerous big research papers to become a well-respected biologist. From the second he accepted the offer, he’d started down a path that led him spending a majority of his life outside of the home and always on the move, hopping from one destination to another.

Whenever he could, he’d take you with him, but he wasn’t always able to. This expedition, which has landed him in the Antarctic, is an example of that. While he can’t be with you physically, he writes often and calls every chance he gets—and though it saddens you sometimes when it highlights the dismal state of the rest of your family, more than anything you’re happy for him and overjoyed that after years of slaving in an office, he finally gets to do what he wants.

You inhale, closing your eyes and trying to let the breath escape in a long, level manner. It’s night, not when you normally go about reading letters from your father but this letter had come late and you’d almost completely forgotten on your way to bed. Taking the opportunity to get some fresh air, you’d taken the letter and made yourself comfortable on the balcony, using the ample moonlight as a makeshift reading lamp.

Placing the letter carefully on the table, mindful not to place it in anything dirty or unsavoury, you settle back in your chair and tilt your gaze to the skies, allowing your eyes to become unfocused and simply stare. It's a pretty sight, as you expected-- the stars are much more outgoing here, with no haze or pollution masking their display like in the city on the mainland.

You let out a breath, but even to your ears it sounds more like a sigh. You miss your dad, and you know he misses you too but despite the fact you know it's selfish of you, you kind of wish he had been here with you when you made the decision to move. Of course, you've told him all about it, and he's supported you wholly in every choice you've made, but it's not the same. You don't blame him, and you love him dearly, but still... you're allowed to be sad, just a little. Just for tonight.

Well, that had been your plan-- apparently the universe has other ideas that don't include sulking in the moonlight on your balcony. A scuffling sound disturbs your reverie from the side of your balcony, and you look over in time to see a decent blob of shadow scaling up the side of the balcony next to yours and flinging onto the railing. Once there, it halts, and your eyes adjust just in time to meet those of the creature-- the raccoon, you realise quickly. It tilts its head up, sniffling the air once, before pinning you with an unreadable look. For a moment the two of you sit in silence, locked in place by the other's gaze, before the raccoon lets out a soft noise and then it's little claws are clacking against the hollow metal railing, and it disappears beyond the wall.

Whose room is that... Jungkook's? You muse to yourself for a moment before you remember what kind of hybrid Jungkook is, and in the next second there is the sound of a door sliding shut and Jungkook's bright-eyed face pops around the side of the wall.

"Uh... are you okay?"

You blink, brain taking a moment to catch up and then decipher how he could have possibly known you were even a little bit upset. You recall suddenly that animals can pick up cues, like chemoreceptors, and tilt your head at him with a small smile.

"Yeah... no... I'm alright." You angle yourself more towards him in your chair, cheering internally when you see him stop hiding behind the wall and come to lean against the railing. "Was that you? Where were you off to, this time of night?"

Jungkook looks like he wishes to address the first thing you said, but your follow-up has thrown him a bit for a loop. You can't be sure your eyes aren't deceiving you, but you could almost swear he's blushing.

"Oh, yeah... sorry." He reaches a hand up to rub the back of his neck, hair mussed and eyes averted. "I know my animal form isn't that nice... sorry if you thought it was gross."

"What?!"

At the sheer suddenness and volume of your almost-shriek, Jungkook jumps about a foot in the air. His wide eyes swing back to you, chest heaving as he rests his hand in the centre of it. You clear your throat, shrinking a bit in embarrassment.

"Sorry," you wince, before going to elaborate on your earlier squawk. "But please don't ever apologise for something like that! I don't know who told you that your animal form is gross, but they can't be all that bright... it was cute."

He looks more like a deer in headlights than the animal he's spliced with right now, eyes wide and staring right at you. You can't help but laugh and tease him, just a little. "Cutest raccoon I ever did see, anyway."

He suddenly comes back to earth, slamming his face into his hands and letting out a long groan. It's from embarrassment, you can tell from the flashes of reddened skin that peek through his fingers. You don't say anything for a moment, letting him return to the conversation on his own terms. Jungkook might be one of the housemates you've interacted with least, but you've heard plenty from the rest of the hybrids in the house.

More often than not, it's about how shy he is and how cute it is when he gets embarrassed. You'd simply nodded and laughed at the time, but now you realise there truly is merit to everything they said.

It takes a few moments of Jungkook muttering into his hands before he pulls his face away, averting his eyes and mumbling softly, "... Thanks. That's really nice of you to say."

"You're welcome," you shrug, smiling when he risks a glance your way to gauge your reaction. Upon seeing nothing that will make him turn tail and flee back into the safety of his room, he eases up, returning his body to it's previous angle towards you.

"So... why were you upset?"

Surprisingly, his question doesn't bother you as you thought it might. You hum, watching as his gaze follows yours to the table, where the letter and the envelope it came in, addressed to you, lay discarded.

"Letter from my dad," you offer in explanation, watching his eyes light in realisation. "Nothing bad, I just miss him so it's... bittersweet."

Jungkook hums, nodding and resting his chin in his hand as he leans forward. "I understand. It's like that with my parents. I know they love me, and I love them, but they're pretty far away and I just... miss them. They're always working."

You're a little surprised that he can relate, although you suppose you really shouldn't be. You don't know very much about Jungkook at all, so it's not fair of you to assume anything about him, even in relation to your own experiences.

"Yeah," you sigh, looking to the sky for a moment as you try and organise your thoughts. "I'm happy he is where he is, doing what he's doing, but I think it's okay to be sad, just for tonight."

Jungkook hums, but doesn't say anything further. It surprises you when he speaks next, the two of you having fallen into a lull.

"Well, you could keep being sad for the night if you want, or... would you maybe wanna see the film I've been working on?"

Your head whips to face him faster than the speed of light, startling him into another jump on the spot.

"Really?" you ask, hurried as though the offer will be rescinded at any moment. "You mean it? I can see it?"

"Yes...?" Jungkook answers, somewhat bewildered. You launch from your chair immediately, rubbing your hands together-- you've heard really good things from the others about his talents in photography and editing, so you've been trying to figure out a way to slip it into conversation for weeks. You've wanted to see them for yourself so badly.

"I'm coming over," you announce, gathering the letter and envelope and already beginning to move towards your room. "I hope your room is clean, Jungkook, or else I'm gonna tease you!"

You'd just meant it as a joke, but the scrambling and hurried footsteps you hear after you say it make you think he took you seriously.

Well, you dad would probably want you to spend the night happy, anyway. You can save being sad for another night.

O -- O -- O

Your time at the house has gone by much faster than you anticipated, and while initially you'd thought that you wouldn't be able to wait to get out, now you find yourself feeling quite the opposite.

You kind of don't want to leave.

At this point, about two months into your stay, you've settled into such a comfortable, stable routine that you struggle to imagine going through the motions in any other way. Often after your early shifts you'll return to the house and catch someone lounging in the sun, and you will no doubt be roped into a short, sweet afternoon nap. On the weekends is group breakfast, and you make sure that you go to bed as early as possible the nights before so that you don't miss it. Taehyung drags you with him of a weekend to fetch fruit and Jimin drags you around the town in general. Some evenings, you find yourself accompanying Namjoon on a walk along the beach, both of you feeling more at peace than ever before when you're standing with feet buried in the sand, watching dusk bleed into twilight and the colours around you stain violet and periwrinkle in the absence of the sun's kiss.

Jungkook knocks on your door at late hours, grinning and eagerly summoning you to his room to watch his latest creation. Seokjin no longer resists your help every other night to make lunches, and has started including you in the schedule as well.

Yoongi and Hoseok are among the busier residents of the house, but you've still spent bits of time with each of them, probably moreso with Hoseok. It's not that you avoid Yoongi or anything like that, it's just that he happens to be the most busy and more often than not is holed up in his room. You don't always see him throughout the week, but he always attends house breakfast on weekends and you're thankful that you get to see him then.

Today, you're spending a little more time with Hoseok. Your shift ended early and you couldn't have thanked your lucky stars any harder, because today the squirrel hybrid had invited you to his dance class. Usually Jungkook or Jimin went with him, both of them enjoying dance as much as their older housemate, but they had both been unavailable today. You'd seen the way Hoseok's face had fallen when they'd told him, and had immediately asked about the class-- you didn't even talk for more than a few minutes before Hoseok was happily inviting you to attend.

It made you a little more pleased than you're going to admit.

You're on your way there now, actually, a skip in your step and a swing in your gait. You've got the tote bag you hold your work things in, and you can hear the rustling of the nuts you'd shoved in there last minute earlier in the day. You'd noticed that Hoseok had forgotten them, so you'd grabbed them to give to him when you saw him. Hopefully he hasn't stuffed himself too full of other foods in the meantime, though from what you've heard apparently he's such a workaholic that he probably hasn't even had lunch yet despite the fact it's currently three in the afternoon.

A majority of Hoseok's classes take place at the school where he teaches, in a room at the end of the drama block that often doubles as a dance classroom when the school gets the funding for it. When you arrive, the door is slightly ajar and upbeat pop is leaking through the gap, Hoseok's sunny voice piercing through the music like a pendulum.

"--and one, two, three, one, two, three-- that's it! That's fantastic! Really good job, guys!"

A smile is already on your face as you push the door open enough to let yourself in, gaze immediately falling upon a group of grinning children that are looking up at Hoseok like they're a tiny field of sunflowers facing their namesake. Hoseok stands before them in a borderline comical pose that only primary school teachers can really pull off, hands on his hips and a proud, beaming smile on his face. You can’t help but blink because for a moment it really was as blinding as looking directly at the sun. He spots you before you can recover fully, and greets you with a wave.

“Ah, perfect! Everyone, this is Miss y/n! She’s going to be sitting in today—I told her how good you all were and she couldn’t wait to see for herself. Let’s all say hello!”

A chorus of greetings is immediately thrown at you, the attention of the little sunflowers now completely on you. Some gasp and run over, grinning brightly at the novelty of a new character, and others watch from afar but seem pleased nonetheless by your presence and alleged eagerness to see them perform.

Before they can launch into conversation with you like you can so clearly see they want to, the ears of some kids ramrod straight and alert and others’ tails flicking in excitement, Hoseok calls them back to where he stands and to your surprise they obey immediately.

“Alright, let’s let Miss y/n get settled down and we can show her what we’ve been practicing, hm? Sound good?”

There is a chorus of ‘yes!’ that pulls a laugh from you as you make your way to the side of the room with the best view and plop down, cross-legged. Eagerly and very self-consciously, now that they have an audience, the small army of children runs to take their place in the formation, and Hoseok pulls his phone from his pocket to pause the song currently playing and pull up the one that matches their routine.

The opening notes filter into the air and Hoseok nods, foot tapping to the beat, before he counts them in and off they go.

Put simply, you’re so incredibly impressed. These kids can dance! You don’t have a doubt that they can dance better than you, not that you ever claimed to have much talent in that department. By the time they finish running through their little routine, you’re clapping and cheering loudly, relishing in the laughter that you’re exaggerated reaction elicits. Hoseok, too, is smiling as he sees how you interact with his students, wandering over after he takes them through it a few more times before giving them a small break.

"So, what do you think?" he asks as he approaches your side of the room, slightly out of breath from doing the routine with them the last few times. "They're so good, aren't they? They've only been working on this for a few weeks and already they have it almost perfectly down-pat. I'm so proud of them."

He slides down the wall next to you, reaching for the bag he'd dropped there presumably before class began; across the room all the students are reaching into their class backpacks for their afternoon snack, and it seems Hoseok has the same idea. You don't even remember the nuts in your bag until he rifles through his for a few minutes, brows furrowed when he comes up empty. His bushy tail flicks dejectedly, ears twitching back on his head, and he pouts.

"Damn, I think I forgot my lunch this morning," he says, and it's enough to jog your memory. You jump in place from the startle of it.

"Oh, I saw that! Here," you quickly reach into your own bag and pull out the nuts and dried fruits, passing it over to him. "I brought it for you, since I figured you'd probably want it at some point."

The way Hoseok's eyes light up when they see the little plastic bag in your hand is almost enough to make you laugh and/or coo out loud. By the skin of your teeth you barely manage to hold that reaction back, but you do smile as he cheers with a short, happy scream and eagerly takes it from your grip.

"My nuts!" Hoseok wastes no time ripping the bag open and grabbing a handful, setting about munching immediately. "You have saved my life today, Miss y/n. I was soooo hungry."

"Didn't get lunch?" you guess, already knowing the answer and having it confirmed when Hoseok nods, completely unfazed by the fact he'd skipped a meal or two.

"I was helping one of the students," he explains, munching happily. His bushy tails curls in content behind him, a sight that makes something happy and warm settle in your chest. "I don't mind missing lunch if it means they get the help they need. I do feel it afterwards, though. Sometimes when I get home I feel so hungry I could eat the whole cupboard out."

A laugh tears from you at his words, the image even funnier because he didn't specify whether he would be doing it in his human form or his animal form. The image of a squirrel wreaking havoc in the house pantry is funnier than you care to admit, but Hoseok just seems happy to have elicited a laugh no matter the magnitude.

It's just a small thing, spending the afternoon with Hoseok and his students, but you find afterwards that it was almost... healing. On the way home, walking besides Hoseok and discussing which dried fruit were the superior dried fruit (he's wrong, and you'll take that opinion with you to the grave), you can't help but feel so light and happy. Like everything is in place, in motion and flowing smoothly. A river without debris and jagged rocks; life right now feels like that moment in nature when water runs over smooth pebbles in a creek, tumbling and pouring but doing so without chaos, and without mess or fallout. Just one continuous, fluid motion.

It feels nice.

You don't even realise until you're laying in bed that night that for a while now, that's how you've been referring to this place.

As home.

O -- O -- O

Aside from the occasional uncomfortable dream, these past few months have been remarkably incident-free, where it concerns the unfortunate topic of your extended family. You'd changed a lot of things when you'd made the decision to move to this island; your phone number, your email addresses and all your passwords, your social media... all of it had been combed through and either switched out or slimmed down. This place is an escape, a place of refuge for you, and that's how you want it to stay.

Unfortunately, the universe isn't always on your side.

It's a rainy afternoon when you receive the call, and you're so fixated on watching the way the rain falls in thin sheets over the ocean that at first from the first floor patio, that you miss it. They don't call again, but a message sets your phone off a minute or so later, and that catches your attention.

Of course, the second you read it and see who it's from, it does more than just catch your attention.

You're not someone prone to many episodes, and you've become adept at self-soothing. But as your eyes begin to stare unfocused at the message and you feel your chest constrict, diaphragm pushing against your lungs, you realise distantly that this is more than you just being momentarily overwhelmed.

You get a bit lost in the moment, lost in the sensation of light-headedness that suddenly washes over you, so much so that when a voice sounds distantly, muffled as though you're listening to someone speak to you from the depths of a pool, you barely even register it at first.

"Hey, y/n, have you seen--"

Still, your eyes are stuck on the message; you don't even notice the way your fingers had begun to tremble while holding the phone until a hand brushes your arm, a figure in front of you blocking the light from beyond the porch.

"y/n, hey, are you.... look at me. y/n, look at me."

Oh, that's a voice, and you do as it says without even a single thought flitting through your head. Looking up, you're barely even as surprised as you should be to see Yoongi standing there, a look of concern spread across his features, brows drawn together as he regards you. You feel a warm touch against your hand, phone tugged from your grip to be replaced with his own. Both your hands are now in his hold and he uses it to ground you, even if just for a moment.

"Can you do me a favour?" Yoongi says, and his voice is so soft and soothing that you find yourself listening as attentively as you can right now. "I need you to breathe with me. I'm gonna count ten breaths, okay? Let's do the first one-- in..."

He inhales deeply, his whole chest moving from the magnitude of it, and you feel as though you're floating in your own head in the moment as you follow suit. Slowly, patiently, he takes you through each breath one at a time, making sure you inhale as big as he does and exhale as long as he does. By the time you reach ten, the light-headed feeling has faded and the constriction in your chest has eased, ever so slightly. As soon as you finish your tenth breath you sag slightly, letting out a gush of air.

"Sorry," you say, slipping one of your hands from his grip to cover your face. "Sorry, I just--"

To your complete and utter surprise, Yoongi's hand lets your other one go and in the next moment you feel arms slipping around your shoulders, bringing you close to his chest and letting your face rest on his shoulder. You see his fluffy tail from where your face is squished, catching glimpses over his shoulder of the way it curls calmly.

Once the moment of shock passes, you're unable to help yourself but to return the embrace, surprised by how much you needed this without even knowing so.

"It's okay, don't apologise," Yoongi says, voice still soft and calm. You sag against him, and your eyes burn not from the message that triggered your almost anxiety-attack, but from the sheer kindness you feel emanating from this man. "Happens to the best of us. Are you feeling a little better?"

You nod, because oddly enough you are, and he slowly releases his hold on you, easing back with an assessing look. Another apology rests on the tip of your tongue but you bite it back, knowing he would refuse it if it ever entered the air.

“I am. Thanks,” you say, eyes looking for your phone as you realise suddenly that it is no longer in your hand where you’d left it. Yoongi holds it up, handing it back easily; his gaze passes over the screen as he does so, and the look he gives you is one of empathy and knowing.

“Shitty family?” he inquires, and you nod, choosing not to look at your phone and to slip it straight into your pocket instead. You go to sit against the wall, facing the edge of the patio, and he joins you.

“I get it,” he says, lifting a hand to fluff up his grey-tinted hair before shifting his gaze out to the rain and its reunion with the ocean. “’Part from my parents, the rest of my… relatives… they’re, uh… they’re not so nice. Didn’t treat me all that well, or even my parents for that matter. So… I get it. You don’t have to elaborate if you don’t wanna, but I get it.”

You don’t really know what to say to that; not that you’re speechless, per se, but moreso that there is simply so much going through your head at once that you can’t seem to settle on anything to voice.

“Thank you,” you say again, sniffling as subtly as you can as you focus on evening your breaths and calming your heart. You feel something on your hand and look over to see Yoongi has placed his palm over your own, his face soft and comforting.

“It’s no problem.”

A different kind of ache, the sort that is tinged around the edges with bittersweet warmth, begins to make itself known amongst the turmoil in your abdomen, and in this moment you can’t quite decipher whether it’s a good feeling or a bad one. What you do know, though, is that you’ve never been more thankful to have had the fortune of meeting these boys and having them make room in their hearts for you, even just a little, than you are right now.

O – O – O

You can’t believe that all the time you’ve spent here has gone so fast, and that currently there is no more than a week before your three month deadline is up and your contracted stay at this house is to come to an end.

If you’re being honest with yourself… you don’t want to go.

When you’d first come to this house, you’d expected that you would have a nice time, but also that you would be eager to move out by the end of the three month period. You had no way of knowing how well you’d fall into routine here, how attached you would become not only to the residents but to the home, the place and the feeling it offers and the way it allows you to feel happier than you have in years.

You know that you have to leave, they’d only agreed to house you for the three months after all, and you also know that they seem to have realised your time here is coming to an end as well. You’ve caught them talking amongst themselves a few times, not quite whispering but definitely conversing about something that halts as soon as they catch wind of you anywhere nearby. You get the sense that they’re unsure how to approach the topic, and you understand since it’s a bit tough for you yourself. You decide to bite the bullet and do it for them, though.

You ask them to meet you in the living area, a week before you leave, to talk. You wanted to just… officially thank them, you suppose. They’ve done a lot for you, in the time you’ve been here, whether they realise it or not. They’ve helped you settle, they’ve shown you that there really is more to life outside the misery your relatives tended to create, and they’ve ensured every second you’ve been with them that you have felt welcomed, and included.

Truthfully, it means more to you than you know how to put into words.

Which is why it’s especially difficult for you to accept that you have to leave.

The expressions on their faces as they gather are a mixture between curious and somewhat apprehensive, with Namjoon, Jungkook and Hoseok bordering on nervous. You wonder why before realising they might not know why you called them here.

“Hey, thanks for gathering,” you say, attempting to keep it light and ensure the smile stays on your face. Of course, they all return is as they take seats across the room, some on the couch and others on the coffee table or the floor. Taehyung’s head tilts, tail curling lightly behind him.

“Um, I just wanted to say something to you—to all of you, while I could. I didn’t think I’d be able to catch everyone in the one room any time but on the weekend,” you muse, smile widening at the round of light laughter your joke elicits. You shift, taking a breath and grounding yourself through the motion of meeting their gazes, one by one.

“I wanted to say thank you,” you begin, voice softer than intended but not so soft that you’re worried their senses won’t pick it up. “Because when I moved here it was to get away, and start anew, and you guys… really gave me that. You’ve made these three months the best and happiest months I’ve had in a long time. I’m so thankful that you let me in, and welcomed me into your home and even into your lives. I don’t think I can word this the way I want to but… really. Thank you, so much. I know I have to leave in a week, but—”

“Oh!”

You halt mid-spiel, wide eyes moving to Taehyung as he suddenly sits up, holding his hands out. “So that’s what you wanted to talk to us about—we actually wanted to talk to you about something, too.”

Freezing, you simply blink, mind coming up blank as to what they could possibly want to talk to you about. Namjoon clears his throat when no one else follows up after Taehyung, averting his eyes before he gathers himself and meeting your confused look. “Well, you probably noticed we’ve been talking amongst ourselves a lot lately—I mean, I know you’ve noticed because you’ve walked in on us a few times, and we’re not very good at being subtle, but—”

“We want to know if you’d like to stay here—permanently.” Taehyung cuts his friend off before he can finish, apparently no longer able to hold the question at bay. There is an expression of pure, unguarded sincerity on his face, excitement lighting in his eyes. “We all talked it out and found that we want you to stay—all of us.”

“You fit,” Yoongi says suddenly, voice still soft but loud enough for you to catch easily. He offers you a gentle smile when you look his way. “We know that if you left, the house wouldn’t be the same after… it would be missing something. You haven’t been here long, but you’re kind of already part of our family so… please don’t go, if you don’t want to.”

Some of the others are pinning Yoongi with a surprised look that you suspect is not directed at what he said, but rather the fact that he said it. You’re too busy biting your lip and trying not to cry like a baby to notice all that much.

“Is that really okay?” you ask, déjà vu washing over you as you think to yourself that again, this sounds too good to be true. “Do you guys really want me to stay?”

Immediately, there is a mixture of nods and loud ‘Yes!’s and ‘Of course!’. You really can’t hold it back, you find, because the sudden flood of warmth and affection washing over your insides is more than you know how to handle. You sniff, unable to reach the tears fast enough to prevent their fall down your face.

“Will you stay?” Yoongi asks, head tilted. Regrettably, his tenderness makes more tears fall.

“Yeah,” you manage, wiping your face furiously, “Yeah, I will. Thank you.”

And that’s all the confirmation you need before your new family is tackling you one by one, replacing your sobs with laughter and making sure you know that from now on, you don’t have to cry alone, you don’t have to be sad alone. They’re here for you.

And it feels so, so nice.

a/n: thank you so much for reading! please let me know what you think and how it made u feel, and let me know u enjoyed it by liking and reblogging! feel free to even just send me an ask screaming! thank u! i love u !

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mirkosintern · 4 years

Text

Crawlin’ back to you

pairing: dabi x fem!reader

genre: smut with a lil angst and fluff if you squint

notes: reader is a member of the lov, set in the meta liberation army arc (before the war!), possessive dabi, wowee this is my first work!! I never expected myself to be able to write a piece but here we are ehehe this was inspired by a certain tiktok actually. U may have already noticed but the title is from the song do I wanna know? by the arctic monkeys<3

warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, breeding, cum play, dubcon-ish?, toxic relationship, degradation, vulgar language, alcohol

word count: 3k

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That the nights were mainly made for saying things that you can't say tomorrow day Crawlin’ back to you Ever thought of callin’ when you've had a few? 'Cause I always do Maybe I'm too busy bein’ yours to fall for somebody new Now I've thought it through

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Dabi wasn’t one to do feelings. He’s screwed numerous women, but they were nothing more than some toys to fulfill his sexual needs. Neither did he want to have feelings, nor did he need to. Afterall, his side hoes who begged to stay with him even after all the degradation he’s given them disgusted him the most. He would snicker at their pathetic attempts and cut them off ruthlessly.

However, you were an only exception.

No, he did not have feelings for you, he swears he never did and never will. But you were different from his other disposable sluts--he kept you around. He didn’t ghost you, instead, he kept coming back. It is only because you’re a member of the lov as well, he thinks. You are easy to access since you’re always around the lov base, and he doesn’t even have to worry about getting caught by civilians or stupid bitches who suddenly decide to turn him into the police. You guys were practically co-workers with benefits, fuck buddies where the “buddies” part is questionable.

Dabi didn’t mind that he made an exception for you until that night. That very night where you sleepily decided to crawl into his arms after a rough round and whispered him how you loved the rough texture of his skin against yours. That very night where you pressed delicate kisses beneath his jaw. The moment of intimacy—making his heart pound and warmth spread beneath his cold skin—was threatening. You were threatening.

That’s where he cut you off completely. He did not knock on your bedroom door located in the lov base anymore. He stopped sending those “you up?” texts at 3am. He didn’t even lock eyes with you or talk to you anymore.

It feels as if something heavy dropped inside you, squashing your heart to the point where it’s painful. You try your best to ignore the pang in your chest and remind yourself that you guys were nothing more than co-workers with benefits. However, the enduring heartburn only functions to make you realize how attached you were to him. He’s Dabi, the biggest scumbag you will ever meet, what did you expect? What were you thinking? It should be no surprise this happened, right? But having to encounter his stupidly handsome face every day was not doing any help. You are a girl with dignity, you tell yourself, trying your best to ignore his strong scent of campfire and cologne drowning you every time you guys are in the same room.

The pain is suffocating you for weeks, and you finally decide to completely get over him. The night Dabi brings a bimbo to his room and fucks her loud enough for everyone in the lov to hear—for you to hear—you’re done with everything. You step outside, get drunk, do anything to numbify the pain the raven-haired guy has caused you, and even meet a nice-looking guy who seems to be interested in you.

You are doing good without Dabi.

You don’t need Dabi anymore.

You are not letting him get to your head.

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A party.

League of villains is all about privacy, but they also started having some fun after uniting with the meta liberation army. Now they had sufficient money, people and place to throw parties every now and then without the danger of getting caught by civilians. Afterall, a number of heroes were in their side as well.

“Not gonna lie, you guys do know how to host parties.” Keigo smirks, picking up a glass of bourbon whiskey. “It’s fuckin’ lame,” Dabi answers as he downs a glass of liquor.

“So, what happened with y/n?” Keigo throws a suggestive smile.

“The hell you mean what happened with her?” Dabi frowns.

“Y’know, didn’t you guys used to be a thing or something?”

“Nah, she was an occasional fuck and that’s it.”

“Oh really? The Dabi I know never fucks a same bitch twice though. I thought she was something special.”

“Special?”

“Yeah, thought maybe you actually wanted her.”

A smug grin appears on Dabi’s face. “Never even liked her.”

“Have you seen her and her new boyfriend?”

The smile is quick to vanish from his face after hearing the word boyfriend. Dabi’s eyes widen, immediately glaring at Keigo. Before he could say anything, Keigo tilts his chin to point something.

“There they are.”

Dabi turns his head only to find you clinging onto some guy’s arm. Your cheeks are flushed –a pretty, pink glow on your face—as you bat your eyelashes at the guy. Bubbly giggles escape from your lips while you stare at him through half-lidded eyes. The guy’s arm is secured around your waists, pulling you closer to him.

Dabi sees red.

His entire body freezes as his grip around the liquor glass tighten. Dabi doesn’t say anything for a moment, but there is no way Keigo wouldn’t pick up how his cerulean eyes are flaming at the sight. “Well, I thought you knew.” Keigo pats Dabi’s shoulder. “Wouldn’t matter anyways right? You never liked her.”

“…Right.” Dabi takes another sip from the liquor, his eyes still fixed to you.

Keigo’s words are true; at least they are supposed to be true. Dabi didn’t have feelings for you. He doesn’t do romance. No feelings were ever involved with any of the women he’s slept with, and he made sure of it. It was so clear for Dabi without a question.

But why is it unable for him to erase the sight of you with some guy as he forces himself to sleep that night? Why are your sweet giggles echoing his head? Why can’t he get rid of the thought of you in that tight, black dress that perfectly complements the curves of your body? Why is the moment where the guy places his hand on your inner thigh replaying in his head? Why are thoughts of you messing with his mind?

“Fucking hell.”

Dabi gets up. This was fucking annoying. You were truly fucking annoying.

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You tilt your head to check the glowing digits of your digital clock on the nightstand. 2:15am. It’s late, and you haven’t even taken off the dress you wore to the party. You are too tired both physically and emotionally. You’ve done quite a decent job in entertaining the man who’s accompanied you through the whole party, but it was truly an energy-consuming task. You and him walked around as if you guys were the happiest couple in the party; but the truth is that you guys aren’t even properly dating yet. Solely because you have constantly been refusing to properly answer him asking you to be his girlfriend. It’s not that he’s bad looking or anything, but the idea of being with him just doesn’t sit right with you. Ever since you’ve met him, he couldn’t keep his hands off you without asking you anything about consent. You always had to pull his hand away with an uncomfortable smile, yet he never took a hint. However, when a dating rumor about you and him started and spread quickly, you didn’t try to correct anything. Maybe it was because you wanted to pull out a reaction from a certain villain. Maybe your unusual actions at today’s party; clinging onto the guy and laughing at every single word he spoke; was to make Dabi witness how happy you were.

Truthfully, you were dying inside.

What was even worse was that none of your attempts seemed to bring an ounce of reaction from Dabi. When have you become so pathetic and desperate? You feel tears welling up in your eyes, hot and burning, but you don’t want to cry. Not for an asshole like him. You take out your phone, find the guy’s name, and text him that you don’t want to see him anymore. You feel a little guilty, thinking that you may have used him to provoke something from Dabi, but your thoughts are too worn out for you to comprehend anything. You flop onto your bed and bury your face in your pillow. You huff out a deep sigh, and the soft texture of your cotton pillow feels warm on your cheeks. In all honesty, you were thinking about Dabi the whole time you were at the party. Whenever the guy’s hand creeped up your thighs or gripped on your ass, you imagined it was Dabi’s, trying your hardest to feel something from the contact.

You weren’t over Dabi. You never were. Realization hurts, leaving a sour feeling in your mouth.

Your body shoots up at the sudden, loud slamming sound emerged from your door. Your teary eyes widen at the lean man slamming the door shut. “Dabi?” You ask, not believing your eyes. “What the hell are you doing here?” Without an answer, Dabi’s one hand reaches for your throat as his other hand grips your wrist. His large body is towering over you, and you feel your bed shift as he dips one knee in the mattress. His sapphire eyes pierce through your soul, and you can feel his raging anger just from looking at him.

“You’re such a pain in the ass, y’know that?”

“Dabi, what are you-“

He doesn’t let you finish the sentence, pulling you in for a heated kiss. Your lips open reflexively, enabling him to deepen the kiss. The kiss is aggressive, and he doesn’t know whether it is because of his anger or his pent-up desires towards you that he has been suppressing. The kiss gets sloppier over time, hot and wet with saliva and tongue. He lets go of the grip on your wrist and starts tracing your inner thigh with his thumb, and you let out a soft moan. You finally pull away from the kiss to catch your breath, but he doesn’t cease to caress your thigh. Instead, he lowers himself to your ear. “You seem to really love thigh touches, don’t you?” His low voice and hot breath brushing the shell of your ear sends chills down your spine.

“Huh?”

“I always knew you were a slut, but never knew you were this much of a whore. You would bend over any guy who offers you some touches, right?”

Tears swell in your eyes again at his vile words, but it’s hard to talk when his knuckles are repeatedly brushing your clit.

“I’m… not a slut…nngh.” Suppressed moans escape your lips.

“Yeah? Why are you making those sounds then?”

“Dabi…”

He yanks your dress up and dips two fingers inside your lace panties, making you let out a weak yelp. Dabi raises his brows with a smug grin on his face.

“Oh, so she indeed is a slut huh? You get this fucking wet from a kiss?”

His two digits start pumping inside you, and you grip on his white shirt at the sudden sensation. Your gasps and moans get louder, and you suddenly feel his wet lips against your neck. Dabi sucks hard, making sure to leave dark purple marks from your jaw to your neck and shoulder, as he repeats the step of curling his fingers and pulling them inside and out your hole. “Dabi…too fast.” You whine out. “Yeah?” A sadistic grin appears on Dabi’s face. “Be a good slut and take what I give you.” His thumb reaches for your clit, making your legs shiver.

“Nngh…stop, I’m gonna… Dabi I’m gonna cum.”

“Stop? You want me to stop?”

“No!”

“Do you deserve it though?” he slows his pace while teasing your clit. “Beg.”

It’s humiliating, really—but do you have any other choice when you are this close?

“Please, Dabi… I’ll be your good slut. Please let me cum!” Your desperate cries have him pumping his fingers fast again, and soon you’re seeing white. Hot drops of release coat Dabi’s fingers as he pulls out.

“Say ah.”

“A-ah.”

You obey, and Dabi sticks his digits inside your mouth. Your mouth wraps around them immediately, sucking as if it’s a pacifier. “Good girl,” Dabi says as he pats your head, and it makes your stomach swoop with sick pride.

The bulge in his pants is becoming painful, and he contemplates on fucking your mouth. But he’s too impatient; He feels the need to abuse your cunt right now. He wants to hear your screams and cries as he proves who you belong to.

“Take that off.” Dabi gestures at your dress, and you start undressing as he demands. Dabi pulls down his sweatpants and boxers, causing his cock to spring out. It’s so pretty, you think, and you can’t help but admire his red tip, glistening with precum. He pumps his length a few times and lines it up with your entrance. You inhale a sharp gasp as you feel his whole length inside you. It feels so full; it feels as if he’s gonna split you in half if he starts moving.

“Ah, too big.”

“I know.” Dabi looks down on you. “Take it like a little slut you are.”

Before you could even talk back, he is moving inside you. Your moans blend with the noise of the bed creaking; a perfectly harmonized orchestra to Dabi’s ears.

You knew Dabi wasn’t one to prep you or go slow, but you feel like he’s going way rougher than usual. His wild thrusts have your head lolling backwards, and Dabi does not miss the chance to take a hard bite on your neck. You scream out of both pain and pleasure, and you feel two hot streams of tears on your flushed cheeks.

“Aww, she’s crying.” Dabi says in a mocking tone. “Bet you love the pain.”

Humiliation fills your chest and you turn your head away, but Dabi quickly grabs your chin with one hand, forcing you to directly face him.

“Who’s the one making you feel this full?” he asks.

“Y-you.”

“Did he ever make you feel this way?”

Wait, he? Who does he mean by he? Your alleged boyfriend? Could it be possible that Dabi was doing this out of jealousy? You try to comprehend, but it’s impossible for you to think clearly, not when Dabi is fucking you stupid. “No!” You shout.

Dabi’s free hand reaches for your clit and starts rubbing circles. “Tell me, who does this pussy belong to?”

“You…” You try to answer, but he suddenly lifts up your lower body and slams into your cervix in the right angle. It has you moaning even louder, your insides spasming around his cock.

“I can’t hear you.” He smirks sadistically.

“You, Dabi, it belongs to you! I belong to you!” You’re screaming his name like it’s the only word you know, making his cock twitch. “That’s right. You are all for me, all for me to use. Just a pathetic little slut for my cock.” A satisfactory grin appears on Dabi’s face.

Dabi lowers his body down and grunts directly into your ear as he thrusts even faster. The sound of his skin slamming into yours is so erotic, and you can feel how close you are.

“You wanna cum huh?” His words have you nodding frantically, babbling incoherent words. Yes Dabi—wanna cum so bad—wanna be yours—wanna be your good girl—please, dabi.

“Then do it. Make a mess on my cock.”

“Nngh, Dabi!” You scream out his name as euphoria washes down your body. His release follows you soon enough, painting your walls white. You feel warmth filling your belly while his groans echo in your ear. You’re still sobbing and panting after he pulls out, without any energy left to move. As your blurry vision starts getting clearer, you feel his warm skin and the sting of his cold staples against your back. His long arms wrap around your oversensitive body, pulling you closer to him.

“You’re messing with my head.” Dabi rests his forehead on the back of your shoulder.

“Huh?”

You’re confused, but Dabi doesn’t elaborate. His ego doesn’t let him do such thing.

“When you said you belonged to me, did you mean it?”

You bite your lower lip, not knowing how to respond to his sudden question. Millions of unspoken words and feelings are hanging in the back of your throat, creating a huge lump. You swallow them all and spit out a question instead. “Do you want me to belong to you?”

“Yeah.” Your eyes widen at his unexpected response, butterflies fluttering inside your chest. “Be mine.” His low voice vibrates against your soft skin. Your heart melts at his words, and you cannot stop your feelings from overspilling anymore. At that moment you both realize; you and Dabi were meant to crawl back to each other, no matter how hard you both try and struggle.

“I’m yours.” You smile, “I’m all yours.”

#dabi x reader #dabi x y/n #dabi smut #bnha x reader #bnha smut #mha x reader #bnha x y/n #touya x reader #touya x y/n #todoroki touya x reader #dabi #todoroki touya #dabi lemon #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #dabi fanfic #dabi fic

547 notes · View notes

dilfbane · 3 years

Text

It Gets Better(A Silky Pearl)

Summary: It’s been a long time since things have gotten this bad. Loki, returned from his latest mission, lets you know that, with help and support, you can overcome the worst of things, and makes sure you know that he’ll be there with you to get you through it, each and every day.

Pairing: Loki/Female Reader

Warnings: Reader in this fic struggles with eating disorders. Thoughts and feelings related to these(specifically to anorexia and bulimia), are made throughout the fic, especially those that, in my personal experience, people with these disorders experience. I cannot stress enough that this will be discussed/referenced/talked about, sometimes explicitly(Though not graphically) and sometimes implicitly, so please be aware of that and know that it’s OK to take care of yourself and skip this one if that would be triggering to you!

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: I want to preface this by saying that there are a LOT of people, both here and on AO3, who have made some amazing Loki/reader oneshots where the reader is struggling with mental health and/or physical health issues, that really provide a sense of warmth and fluff and support to people who may be going through those things themselves, and I’ve taken a lot of comfort in those fics over the course of the pandemic(I’ll be shouting out a couple of them in the tags!). I want to acknowledge that these exist, and that they’re awesome and have partly inspired my own writing, before talking about this little project I’m embarking on.

Because, while I have gotten a lot of comfort out of many of those pieces of writing, there are definitely some things which I feel like aren’t talked about as much in pieces like these which I have gone through, and which a lot of other people have gone/are going through, and…. I figured that maybe I could take a crack at trying to provide that hit of fluff for people dealing with those things, if I can, and hopefully use my own experience with them to do it in as respecful and accurate a way as possible.

All that being said, the first oneshot in this little project is going to be dealing with a pretty heavy subject, that being eating disorders. The reader in this fic does struggle with eating disorders - specifically anorexia and bulimia. I will not be actively describing anything too graphic about these disorders in this fic, except to highlight through implication and some sparse details that this is what’s happening here, as well as show some of the inner thought processes of the reader, but there definitely is enough in here to show that that’s what’s going on, so if anyone would be triggered by that, please take care of yourselves and give this one a pass! Also, I will further disclaim that there are many types of eating disorders, and everyone’s experience with them is different. In this oneshot, I wrote based off what I know to have been true during the time in my life when I struggled with the same conditions, and I really tried to make the fluff and support as kind and encouraging as I possibly could. If for ANY REASON there’s something that I did badly at, or something that’s disrespectful, anyone reading this may feel more than free to let me know and I’ll do my best to fix it! I don’t want this fic to be a place where anyone feels hurt or disrespected, that isn’t my intention at all, and if I make a mistake in that regard for any reason whatsoever, I would really appreciate knowing so that I can correct it!

Anyways, after that extremely lengthy A/N, just… please know, if you’re going through something like this, that you’re not alone, that help does exist and is out there, and that you are seen and heard. And take this Loki fluff, because honestly, there can never be too much of that in the world!

You know that he worries about you. Even before his latest, three-week mission, you know that he worried about you. In the mornings, as you pour your coffee, you watch him watch you with careful nonchalance, gaze boring into the back of your head, slight furrow creasing his eyebrows, frown pulling small at his lips. He dresses early, because he wakes early; it is a battle, most mornings, for you to get out of bed. And so what, if you take your coffee with more creamer than is necessarily normal - it has to last you a long time, this coffee. You need the sugar of it, to get you to that clean pain. It is sharper, more real, than any scalpel, any knife that Loki keeps concealed by his armor; all that fine Asgardian leather, green and supple and him. It gives you back the control that you lack. Lets you be the person that you would be.

It’s not that you’re afraid of your body, but you are ashamed by it; cannot fathom, even now with his gaze on you, that Loki could love somebody so dreadfully overweight.

Today, though - Today, you had thought, you had hoped, that it might be different. You don’t know why you have that hope, but it brims up in you; a physical need, a visible yearning, for you to be enough for once. Someone that Loki can stand to look at. Someone that Loki can love. He is looking at you now like he’s seeing you for the first time, and you flinch from the frown that creases his piercing gaze, unable to bear how it roves up the planes of your body; silhoutted in the light coming in through the window, you can feel each ounce of fat that stretches over your sinew, cartilage. (You know that Loki hates your body - He traces it sometimes like he’s probing you, trying to find where your bones are. You wish that you could call him on it, and know that you never could).

You stand at the counter, and turn from him; rummage in the cabinet for your coffee mug with shaking fingers; you almost feel like they’re rubber. Blue and cold, like his Jotun skin, but you know that it isn’t enough. Pins and needles prick at them - you can almost convince yourself that it’s only your guilt and shame, but you cannot hide from the pain suffusing Loki’s voice when he speaks.

“Darling,” He says, on a shaky breath, “We need to talk about this.”

“I know -” You tell him - you know that you can’t run from this, anymore. He knows how you look, how nothing you do is fixing it. And now, he’s going to leave you. “I know, Loki - I tried, Loki, I’m so sorry -“

The agony that wells up in you threatens to overwhelm your ability to speak, and you feel your knees buckle the second before you fall. Your kneecaps slam against the cupboard underneath the sink, your head hitting the edge of the counter as you slide down hard to the floor. It hurts. But every part of your body hurts, these days. It’s as constant as your worthlessness. And something else, too -

He is there, on the floor with you, in less time than it takes place to blink, pulling you hard and desperate into his arms; you don’t understand why, and you try to wrench yourself from him, sobs bubbling up and spilling out from your tightly shut eyes. You can feel the bruises starting to form on you, a lump throbbing at your temple.

“Love,” He is saying, “Y/N, sweetheart, come back to me. Come back to me, darling, please.” He is stroking your hair; you feel his fingers at its strands, thin and brittle. God, you think, how pathetic you are - you can’t even keep yourself pretty for him, for this god and all the sacrifices that he’s made. You cry harder, unable to stop your own wailing. When you finally do, you’re exhausted - it takes everything out of you.

“Loki,” You say, on a wretched whine, “I’m so cold.”

“Hush,” He says, “You’re alright. You’ll be warm soon - We’ll sort it, darling, I promise.”

You don’t know how to tell him that it isn’t something you can sort, but somehow you know, deep in your heart, that Loki understands. Still, his voice is so sweet, and the shudders that wrack you begin to halt in the steady hold of his embrace; the tender brush of his fingers over your skin. You feel like you can look at him, now, so you do it, sucking your bottom lip into your teeth to steel yourself for the cruel things you’re certain he’ll start with. But Loki’s gaze isn’t angry at you, not full of fury or disgust. They sparkle with unshed tears and concern, emerald in the daylight. It takes you a moment too long to realize all that pain, all that worry, is for you; when you do, though, you flinch away. Feel Loki’s fingers drop from your hairline to your cheek, then your chin, tilting your head up so that you can’t run and hide.

“I’m losing you, love,” Loki says. His voice is low, and steeped in sorrow. It is his turn to look down, with guilt and shame, and you feel a pang blossom, raw and red, in your heart. He sighs, and straightens his shoulders. He is filled with some new resolution, some new determination you can’t wince away from.

“I need to know,” Loki tells you, “How long this has been going on. I need to - I need you to tell me why, love. I can’t bear to see you like this.”

“I can’t,” You say, blinking back a fresh torrent of tears, “Tell you why. It’s not - I can’t - I don’t know.”

But you know, and Loki does, too. It’s the god of lies, holding you - of course he can tell that you’re lying. It is something other, and runs deep, this bone-y reluctance. A complex game of mental gymnastics. How could you ever tell Loki about the control that it gives you, the desperation with which you used all your calorie-counting and aching restraint to regain the love that you lost? The nights bent over toilet bowls; the way that, sometimes, you empty stomach made you dig your nails hard into your palms ’til they bled, to stop yourself from crying out at the pain. And he loves you - the part of you that craves his affection, that yearns to burrow fast and fierce into Loki’s embrace and spill all your secrets to him, makes sure to remind you of that.

“Y/N,” Says Loki, soft and tender, yet infused with a note so harsh that you would wince, if you could. “You can tell me anything. You need to.”

You notice things, now, in the face of his determination. You notice that Loki is looking at you like he’s in physical pain, and that there’s something sticky and red on the pads of the fingers that brushed up against your head.

“I’m bleeding,” You say. It comes out soft, horrified.

The frown that creases Loki’s face would bring you to your knees, if you weren’t there already.

“It’s just - a thing that I do,” You tell him, too ashamed to look at his face as you reveal it. “You don’t have to worry about it.”

“That’s not enough for me, love.”

Loki’s lips are pursed tight, and the wound in his eyes has hardened to steel. The you part of your body - the fleeing part, the one who knows how to survive - seizes its’ chance and you duck out of his embrace, with far more strength than you had possessed in what felt like, potentially, years. Scrambles, backwards, like a cornered animal, over the tile floor, before heaving itself up to standing. It faces Loki, and its’ breath comes in stabbing-sharp. It is hard to remember that you have to call it ‘myself’. You feel older than you were, yesterday, and you cannot, quite, get air to come into your lungs. That’s not enough for me, you hear your lover say, ringing in your ears like a hyena’s howl.

You’re not enough for me, love. Your fingers spasm, clutching the sides of the kitchen table white-knuckled. You wonder, fleetingly, what Loki would do if you died. The thought makes you cry out in pain, a whimper ripping out from a throat rubbed fingernail-raw, but Loki does not move to stand.

“Come back to me,” He tells you, spiked with sorrow and need. And, perhaps for the first time, you admit it - to yourself, as much as to him.

“I don’t - I don’t think I know how.”

He smiles the smiole of someone who’s seen his own pain, faced his own lashing demons, and you pause to take him in fully, this god who says that he loves you, the man he is trying to be. You catch on hixs eyes, those bright emerald coins, his hair like the feathers of crows. His high, pale cheekbones, and his silver-tongue cut like glass. The pads of his fingertips, slender and cold, tender and fierce on your skin or the hilt of a dagger. You breathe in the smell of him, parchment and iron; peppermint tea and the smoke from a lorn, crimson fire. Wet leaves, after a rain. You feel your resolve start to waver.

“Well,” He says, all thoughtful, all trickster, “Sitting down, I believe, would be a good place to begin.”

The teasing lilt of his voice - an act that he is putting on, and all for you, always for you - cajoles you, coaxing you to lever your elbows and slide back down onto the floor, your weary legs feeling unimaginably grateful. Loki shoots you a new smile now, light and proud. He beckons you, with a cock of his head and a slim, fond gesture, to him - Of a sudden, the tiles beneath you seem like a desert, an ocean. You feel the weight of your emptiness. It laughs at you, its’ white teeth filed and barred. In your head, your failure is heavy; a hot and cackling creature with seven-foot claws pressing down on your chest, restricting your matchstick limbs. You are lost to the unyielding insistence of it, trapped in the maw of its cage, and Loki’s words, when they come, sound as far away as the shores of a country ancient and foreign.

“I was hardly gone,” He is saying, but you cannot answer him. “How could it have gotten this bad?”

It is that - that sadness, that fear in your lover - that breaks you, and you take the thing at a clumsy, terror-steeped sprint, not caring how wretched you look, so long as you can reach him - So long, you finally let yourself think, as there is something left of you for Loki to hold in his arms. Your body hurts worse than anything. You feel every scrape and bruise and chill on it; the pins and knives working at oxygen-starved nerves, and the gnawing clamp of your hunger, a brand pressing into your gut; and you know that Loki can’t save you. But maybe, just maybe, you can find some way to save yourself. And his fingers are there, going up to your hair, thumb rubbing at a hollow cheek and catching the salty dirge of an errant tear.

“It gets better, you know,” Loki tells you. He gets you onto his lap; you feel his heartbeat under your palms where you clutch tightly at his shirt to hold yourself up. A steady, thrumming proof that he is alive. And when he says it, you get the sense that, somehow, you’ve always know it, this whispered secret he’s weaving into your soul. “If you get proper help for it. If you want it to.”

He speaks casually, but there is a weight to his words. Miraculously - you’re not quite so sure how - you find yourself able to meet them.

“I want it to,” You tell him. “I didn’t, before - “ And here his eyes widen, and he shakes his head like you’ve shot him - “But I do. I want to -“

“Alright, love,” He tells you, running a soothing hand down over your side, past the hard planes of your collarbone, “Alright. It’s okay. You’re such a strong person- It’s going to be hard, for awhile, but I know that you can get through this. I’ll be right here with you, darling. Right here, by your side.”

“You will?” You ask him, voice cracking, hardly daring to hope that despite all this, he would stay. He chuckles, sadly, as if your thinking it hurts him, and he is deadly serious when he tells you,

“Y/N, of course I will.”

Somehow, though he’s the god of lies, you don’t doubt his words for an instant. You nod, and the nodding takes effort. Yet you are certain he understands what you mean.

“So,” Says Loki, “Can you - Tell me about this?”

You have to think, for a minute. Can you tell Loki about this? You know that he’s telling the truth, that he isn’t going to leave you. Still, you’ve never been this vulnerable with him before, not even in bed, and the fear in you won’t be put to rest so easily. You shake in his hold, and realize, with a frigid shock, how you must look to him - how badly you are hurting him, and how badly you’re hurting yourself, by keeping your feelings inside yourself and leaving your body to rot. You know, now, that Loki will help you through this - that he will be there, kind touches skirting the bad days; warm, mischevious smirks smoothing the wrinkles of your persistent self-doubts. There was a time when you needed to do this - there will, probably, still be days when you feel like you need to do this, to get a firm hold over your life, and keep the jackals at bay. There are other words to keep yourself safe, though. Loki’s breath in the dark is more home to you than anything you’ve ever had, and his open waiting, here in the daylight, makes you brave enough to speak.

“Maybe… Over lunch?” You offer. You bite your lip and hold out the query, a silky pearl in your hand. For one moment, Loki seems to consider; after all, he is the trickster, and a man not given to acting rashly, or stripping the drama from his complicated schemes. If this is a scheme, you think that you might forgive him - Later, when his lips are on your frame, when you’re there with him, again. His lips twitch into a grin so affectionate and proud that you know- you know - that if you seek proper care and really want to get better, you’ll get through the days that feel like walking on broken glass. You’ve done so much for me, that grin tells you. Let me do this for you.

He reaches out, and takes the pearl. You hardly recognize the man who rained hell down on New York, who snorts and jabs with sarcasm at every word that comes out of Iron Man’s mouth.

“Breakfast?” He counters, shooting a pointed glance at the microwave clock. It is a dare and a promise - a challenge, but never a trick. It tastes like honey on your tongue.

“Fine,” You say, “But you’ll have to cook.” Some kind of joy is creeping its way into you. Your voice, you find, barely trembles.

“Midgardians,” Lok says, with an eye-roll - a friendly, loving glint in his eyes that refuses to fade. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who burns water.” The joke prods your tender, new understanding, reassures you that he is still Loki; that he isn’t going to treat you differently, like a child, just because you’re suffering. The smile comes full onto you, and you wriggle, stretching your arms over your head and yawning, exaggerated for effect to add to the banter.

“I never said that I couldn’t cook,” You tell Loki, “Just wanted you to do it.”

“Mm,” He says, “And what will you be doing, then, while I cook?”

You chew at your lip, and choose to answer before your nerves make you panic.

“Finding the right words,” You admit, laying the truth bare to him.

His hands are wending through your hair now, and his lips are unberarably gentle on yours. He tastes like embers and ink. That sweet, slightly metalic tang that you’ve come to associate with his magic; cinnamon, tinged with steel. He kisses you for a second or two, before pulling away, but you could live in those seconds - Unfold it, like a blanket, and let the care of it warm your thin, freezing bones, if Loki weren’t here to show you that, with the right help, you can learn how to do it yourself.

“Finding the right words,” Loki muses, vaulting himself up to stand in a movement that’s unfairly graceful. “I’d much prefer yours, to be honest.”

He holds a hand out, and you take it, letting him pull you up. The floor, underneath you, feels solid. The sun is coming through the clouds, and out there in the wide world you can hear bird-song, the low, sugared sway of the breeze. There is something else there, too:

You let it wrap its tendrils around you, and you decide that it’s hope.

#loki/reader #loki/female reader #established relationship #eating disorders #mental health struggles #not me writing 3k plus words of loki helping the reader come to terms with the fact that they can recover from their eating disorders #because that's what I wanted to have when I was going through it #soft loki #i mean seriously #yeah there's angst #BUT #also just an unrepentant amount of loki fluff #he says it in the fic but i'll mention it here too:#if you're going through anything like this #know that you don't have to do it alone!#and that not only is it okay to get professional help #it's a good and positive thing that can be a very important part of recovery!#you have so much love and support in your life #because you're a beautiful amazing strong person and it's NOT YOUR FAULT that you're struggling with a mental illness #fics mentioned in the beginning as inspirations for writing this(and the next couple oneshots I have lined up) include:#The 'Loki's Lullabies' series by kaoerin on AO3 #and the 'As You Are' series by hopeless_romantic_spoonie/yespolkadot_kitty #also on AO3 #if any of you are on tumblr i'm so sorry i don't know your url's #but y'all should go show these fics love

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