#not really a drabble not really a oneshot just floating in the space between

[minimomoe]

In your fic 'not just neighbors' can we get a drabble of reader and logan being domestic and in love ?

Wash Day

the amount of asks I get for this fic makes me think I should have made it a longer fic instead of a oneshot lol. Of course you can have a drabble of them in love!!!

“Am I hurting you?” 

You laughed softly at the question he asked about three times now, and each time you gave a reassuring “no.”

You stood in your shower with Logan’s frame behind you with a large detangling brush in hand. It was wash day, and you had spent the better part of the day taking down your hair. It was a tedious task, taking up many hours, but this time it didn’t feel so lonely as you had Logan to help you. He took to your instructions quickly, breaking apart the braids delicately despite his large fingers after carefully watching you demonstrate. You had told him that he didn’t need to worry about helping you, it was something you often did alone and didn’t mind, yet he was insistent.

With double the amount of hands you shaved off a couple of hours and headed to the bathroom. You excitedly told Logan about your favorite TV drama that you had to rewatch with him as you stripped down and turned to him to follow suit. That’s how you ended up in the shower with him. There was nothing inherently sexual about this encounter. You gave him an analysis of your favorite characters while he tenderly dragged the brush through your curls, trying his hardest not to yank on any snags. 

“The interviewer is my favorite character by far. He represents the audience, someone who is only told the facts through anecdotes and has to determine what is important or not, except each perspective is important and ever changing.” 

“And what about the girl? Do you ever hear the daughter’s story?” Logan asked gruffly. He was dutifully detangling the available section but clearly invested in your recap. Once he got to the end of your hair in an easy pass he combed his own fingers through your curls, making sure there were no knots. The steam that floated around was scented of shampoo, a slightly sweet aroma and you turned around to face him. 

“No. We never get to hear her side of things. We only get her diaries, which are given in pieces, totally out of context from just about everybody else,” you sighed. You ran your own hands through your hair and gave Logan a surprised look. “You did a really good job.”

It was the heat of the shower that made his cheeks hot, Logan thought to himself, not the fact that he has an underutilized praise kink. He cleared his throat. “You’re the one who told me what to do.” 

“Come on, hot stuff, don’t sell yourself short,” you said with a smile. “This is probably the fastest wash day I have had in years.” 

You slipped your arms around his waist, dragging him a few short steps closer. You stood up on your tiptoes, your lips ghosting his mouth as he bent down to try to kiss you but you were playful, pulling away at the very last second with a giggle. He eventually pressed you up against the cool tiles of the shower, needy for your kiss and you gave in, and your lips finally touched. His hands curved around your body, wanting to eliminate any space between the two of you. When he finally finally gave you enough space to breathe you let out a nervous laugh. He never failed to make your heart race like it wanted to jump out of your chest. 

“Will that come with every service?”

“Get in the water before you get cold,” he nudged. He switched your positions, placing you under the spray of the water he was blocking with his back and watched the suds drip down your glistening body. It was moments like this, mundane occurrences that would replicate themselves a million times over that Logan loved the most with you. He kissed your shoulder and you hummed contentedly. 

“Thank you,” you said unexpectedly. “Not just for this but in general. I don’t know if I say it enough.” You looked at him over your shoulder and he placed another kiss on your lips. 

“I love you,” he stated. It was meant just for you, holding the weight of the world in those three words. He conveyed so much more when you looked in his dark eyes, a promise of a million more slices of heaven like this to love you through. It was the first time either of you had said it to each other and you felt heat rush through your whole body. You blinked up at him nodding, barely holding back the emotions building up in your chest. 

“I love you too.”

can you guess what show I slipped in there?

check out Not Just Neighbors (Logan x Reader) for the whole story!! Thanks for reading xx

M.list || Ao3 || Twitter

[katnissmellarkkk]

Hiiii, y’all! I got drabble requests — that I love and appreciate and will be writing v soon — but somehow this is the concept that my brain wanted to write tonight. I was reading a fic and I got suddenly inspired and this extremely angsty, canon compliant oneshot was born. I’ve never written in Peeta’s point of view before though so go easy on me 🥺😘😅.

Trigger Warning : As it centers around Peeta’s childhood, it contains strong mentions of maternal abuse.

Summary : Peeta confronts his regretful mother the night the Quarter Quell is announced.

“Did you ever love me at all?”

I stare at her, the woman who used to hit me with a belt, who turned my face black and blue with her open palm, who put angry red lines across my back, who chased me down the upstairs hallway until I was cornered and trapped, until I was at her mercy. The woman who singlehandedly became the motivation behind Rye’s wrestling career and subsequently mine too.

She’s a mess now. Her blonde hair tied up in a disastrous bun, the small amount of makeup she can afford — and cherishes like gold — smeared all around her eyes, her knuckles bright red, like she’d banged her fist into the wall with all the force in her body.

She’s not a big lady. She’s nowhere near as large as she seemed when I was a kid. Back when I was small and naive and all I wanted was her attention. All I wanted was for her to care about me.

I’m twice her size now. I’m as tall as Rye and barely two inches shorter than Rueben. Our father still has all three of us beat in size but I sense my eldest brother will surpass him any day now.

I’m twice her size and she can’t hurt me now even if she tried and yet, when I stand before her, one on one, I still feel like the little boy who asked her to kiss better the mark that came from inside her own fist.

“Mama,” I murmur quietly, alerting her suddenly to my presence.

Her head flies up from her desk at once, staring at me in shock. “Peeta?”

“Hi,” I whisper, my vocal cords giving out when I need them most. I try to swallow the lump building in my throat — the lump I always feel when in her presence — and instead I make it worse.

“What’re you doing here?” She asks and there’s no malice in her tone but I flinch just the same. Because I don’t know. I don’t know what to tell her. I don’t know why I came here.

Because you’re my mother and you were my first home and I miss you even though I spent every day of my life wishing to escape from you?

Because I’m headed back into an arena once again, this time for certain death of my own accord, and I feel like if I don’t do this now I never will.

Because Katniss turned to Gale in her hour of need and I can’t fault her, I can’t blame her for loving him, but it stings. It stings so bad. It stings and it hurts and it throbs to the point where I think I might explode and when I’m in pain, all I can think about is you. All I can think about is you and your rage and your rejection and my being a constant disappointment to you. All I can think about is how much pain you inflicted on me when I was only a child. What did I do to deserve that?

“Peeta?” She inquires again when I don’t reply, squinting at me through the darkness of the night. We have to be quiet or else we’ll wake my father, sleeping only twenty feet away in the next room.

I can smell her breath from here. It mildly surprises me, to sniff alcohol so blatantly on her. Typically it’s my father who drinks away his sorrows. Typically it’s him who passes out drunk and one of us boys are dispatched to bring him home and put him to bed before he can disgrace his wife beyond repair.

“Why were you drinking?” I ask, avoiding the question in her baby blue eyes. The same eyes she gave to me. I don’t even know why people claim I look like my father. I stare at my mother like I’m staring into a mirror. I have her upturned blue eyes and matching nose. I have her downturned mouth and rounded chin. I have her exact shade of white blonde hair and the barely visible eyelashes too. I have her mannerisms when upset and sometimes when I close my eyes, I swear I can hear her berating me like not a day has passed since I lived under her thumb.

She looks down at the empty glass bottle by her feet, as if her inebriation is news to even her. I see a flare of defensive anger flash across her face — she has so many different kinds of anger. I wonder if it’s normal to be able to identify them all in under a second. I wonder if it’s normal to feel a knot twist in your stomach when your mother reaches for your hand — but she composes herself. She composes herself and reaches for my hand and I pull away on instinct because the only times she ever showed me affection was after she’d hurt me real bad.

She has the good sense now to look down at the ground, at least. Finally, she is feeling a tinge of the rejection she drowned me in my whole entire life.

“How did you get in here?” She asks quietly, standing up from her chair, straightening her spine and meeting my gaze. Transforming into someone else again.

Rejection has always made her change shape.

“Dad left the backdoor unlocked. I came up through the side stairwell,” I tell her evenly, but we both know that’s not the answer she’s looking for.

“Why are you here?” Once again, there’s nothing but plain, quiet curiosity in her tone but I still feel my chest ache at the question.

And I can’t drag this out any longer. “Did you ever love me?” I murmur, feeling as pathetic as I know she thinks I am. “Even when I was little? Or when I was born? Did you ever love me at all?”

“You stupid creature!”

“Can you do just one thing right?”

“You think I wanted this life? You think I wanted to be your mother?”

“Of course I did,” she says, maybe for the first time ever, but it barely registers to me. Maybe it’s because after a lifetime of waiting to hear it, the sentiment falls short to the fantasy my mind created. Or maybe it’s because I don’t believe it. Too much has happened. You can’t wipe a chalkboard clean in one night. Especially if the writing on the board is seventeen years old.

Somehow that revelation is the most painful of all and I turn quickly to go before she can clock the liquid quickly building up behind my lids.

“I loved you,” she exclaims abruptly, catching me off-guard. Her outburst paralyzes me into place. “I loved you more than anything,” she proclaims now, and I hear the tears in her voice and the most insane urge to console her wells up deep inside my chest. But I force it down. You can’t make up for seventeen years in one night. “You were my baby. You are, Peeta. You are-“

“Don’t say that,” I hiss, but my mouth feels disconnected from my brain and my head is spinning. I’ve never heard these words before. Not from her. Not ever from her lips. Fury bubbles up inside me as I turn to face her. “Don’t you dare tell me that now. You told me you hated me. So many times.”

“I never said that.”

“You never had to actually say it. I could see it!” I have to make a conscious effort to lower my voice. The last thing I want is to have my father join in on our happy moment right here. “I could see it, Mama. In everything. Every time you looked at me, you acted like I was a disturbance to you. You could barely tolerate being around me-“

But it’s her turn to interrupt me. “It wasn’t you I couldn’t tolerate, Peeta. It was me. You reminded me so much of myself. In ways you can’t even begin to understand. You were so much like me. And I hated being me.”

Her words are earnest, there seems to be an element of truth behind her tone, her tears appear to be real. And what she’s saying tracks. Years ago, my father used to tell me the same thing.

“She doesn’t hate you, Peeta. Sometimes you just remind your mother of the parts of herself she doesn’t like so much.”

“It’s not about you, son. It’s never been about you.”

“She loves you. She loves you, she just can’t express it. She can only see the bad parts of herself. And sometimes that makes her only see the bad parts of her inside you.”

But somehow hearing over and over again that I’m just like the woman who once hit me in the face so hard I told my friends I fell off the bakery roof and they believed me doesn’t give me much comfort at all.

“That’s too bad,” I whisper, realizing we’ve stood in silence for too long. Realizing that my coming to see her tonight was pointless and to come here of all places, after seeing the person I love most in the world in the arms of the one she loves, means I’m nothing more than a glutton for punishment.

I am nothing. Just like my mother always said.

And evidently she’s not even done yet. No, for some reason she’s rambling on, twisting her hands the way she used to in the aftermath of her maltreatment. “You were stubborn. When you were young, you were the most stubborn boy there ever was. And sarcastic. And too hopeful. You believed in fantasies. You always believed you could be more than this district would let you be.”

“What?” I snap, exasperation rising up and decimating the lump in my throat. “You’re not making any sense.”

“I’m telling you all the ways you were like me. All the bad qualities I passed down to you.” She sniffles loudly and wipes her nose in the same way she smacked my hand once with a wooden spoon for doing. “I was trying, Peeta. I was trying to protect you,” she admits desperately. “I thought if I was hard on you, it would prepare you better for life in the long run. I thought that if I could rid you of all my qualities, you would end up happier than me. I was trying to give you what you needed.”

I feel my chest heave involuntarily and I have to look away, ashamed to be crying in her presence. “What I needed was a mother who loved me,” I say through gritted teeth, fighting to keep it together even a little. “If you cared about me at all, that’s what you should have given me. Not bruises and bloody noses because you thought it necessary to beat the qualities you couldn’t stand out of me.”

“I did love you,” she pleads, her eyes — the same eyes as mine — flashing to the empty liquor bottle on the ground. “I do love you, Peeta. So much. After that announcement tonight, I was beside myself. I can’t stand the idea of you heading back into that place-“

But I can’t stand the idea of letting her finish that sentence. “Is that why you told me last year that Katniss was District Twelve’s big winner? That she’s a survivor?”

And in an instant, she’s casting her gaze down towards her shoes, the remorse splayed plainly across her features. Almost inaudibly, she still attempts to explain. “I was always most motivated when trying to prove someone wrong. I didn’t mean-“

“The last time you may ever see me and you thought to give me some kind of reverse psychology?” I exclaim, still seeing bright red.

Which apparently is another quality I get from her. My ire. As evidenced by her quick tonal shift as well.

“I thought it would make it easier if you didn’t come home again!”

We both fall silent at that. There’s nothing left for me to say. I have all the answers I’ll ever get and there’s nothing she could say that’ll make me feel better. There’s nothing that can erase the past or change my childhood or alter my memory. There’s nothing that can make me forget the way she treated me growing up.

But she’s not done yet. She starts walking towards me and I’m about to leave before this scene gets any more dramatic and my father gets involved, but she grasps my arm before I reach the doorway. She grasps my arm in a gentle hold, so different from the hand that used to stain me purple without remorse.

“I’m sorry, Peeta,” she whispers, begging me to hear her. Begging me to hear her sincerity and remorse. “I’m so sorry for what I did. I’m so sorry for how I treated you. For how I hurt you.”

I shake my head though, the tears I tried so hard to repress flowing freely now. “Stop,” I rasp but she pretends not to hear me.

“You were always a good boy. It was me who was bad. I was the disappointment,” she insists, her voice considerably firm for the amount of salt water coursing down her face. “I was wrong. Not you, honey. Me. I was wrong.”

But you can’t erase seventeen years in one night and I try to break away again, but I’m just too overcome with emotion to refuse any longer.

And then she pulls out a weapon strong enough to cut me to my knees in an instant.

“It wasn’t your fault, Peeta. What I did to you and your brothers wasn’t any of your faults.”

“Stop talking,” I urge desperately, my jaw locked tight and my teeth biting into the soft flesh of my tongue. “Just stop it. Please.”

But her arms are slowly coming around me and she’s close to sobs and she begins to whisper the painful sentiment all over again. “It wasn’t your fault that I hurt you. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that I let you go so long without hearing that. But I don’t want you to die without knowing that I was the one in the wrong. And I would take it all back in a second if I could-“

And I can’t stand it anymore. I give into her hug, collapsing against her with such a force it knocks us both down to our knees. I’m not a little boy anymore, I’m not the child she could so easily hurt, I’m not the kid who was too afraid to stand up for himself or his brothers, but he still exists inside of me. It’s him that wants my mother’s embrace, who wants the apology for the wounds he didn’t understand, for the words that kept him awake at night, that caused him to fall asleep with a damp pillow.

And I know she may just be drunk or that she could take it all back when tomorrow comes. I know that this is merely her guilt speaking and my probable death is hanging heavy over her head. But there was a time when these words were all I ever wanted to hear and I choose to take that for what it’s worth.

It doesn’t mean to me now what it might have years ago. But it still means something.

It still means something.

[kaaytea]

hello~ I would like to request location C + prompt 28 with Matsukawa 🥵

Wipeout

Location: beach trip

Prompt: surfing

A/n: Hello hello! I unintentionally turned this into a bit of a surfer au...so 🙈 this is also WAY longer than my normal drabbles, it's honestly more of a oneshot than a drabble.

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You dug your toes into the cool sand surrounding you, the shade from your umbrella shielding you and the soft grains from the relentless sun above. The yells and laughs coming from the ocean floated on the breeze, a few of your own joining them as you watched your friends catch waves, or in Oikawa's case, faceplant straight into the water after a wrong turn on his board.

The beach wasn't exactly your first choice when your boyfriend invited you on a date. You'd much rather be walking the cobblestone streets of the small coastal town just a few miles away, a cold treat in one hand and his in the other. You didn't have much room to complain though, this was the first time you'd both had spare time to hang out in weeks, Mattsun was either always in the waters or taking up extra shifts at the Iwaizumi surf shop. Between working and the normal practice his surf team held, the poor guy was stretched pretty thin.

A droplet of cold water dripped down onto your shoulder, the sensation tore your attention away from your book to find said boyfriend sitting down next to you on your towel, his three friends close behind, all hauling their boards back to where you had hunkered down on the sand.

Matsukawa leaned over and pressed a kiss to your cheek, a content hum leaving him at the feeling of your warm skin.

"You're warm," he muttered, resting the side of his face onto your shoulder, his mop of soaked curls brushing against your neck and jaw.

"And you feel like a cold fish," you bit back while pushing his cold, dripping wet body away from you.

"Damn that's rough, Mattsun. You had your cuddle rights revoked," Makki smirked before biting into one of the sandwiches your group had packed. Matsukawa halfheartedly threw the closest flipflop at his best friend, the latter then going on to complain about turning his lunch into a literal sand-which.

"Why don't you ever surf with us, (y/n)-chan?" Oikawa asked as he slipped on a T-shirt. The group’s attention was then turned to you, all awaiting your response.

"Well...you know, I don't really trust myself to be able to maneuver a floating popsicle stick through a giant wave." The boys laughed at your response. You had many creative names for surfboards but 'floating popsicle stick' was a new one.

"You could always ride tandem with Mattsun," Iwa pipped up from his spot across from you.

"Tan-what?"

"Tandem," Matsukawa repeated, "it means you get to sit at the front of the board and look pretty while I do most of the work."

You pondered for a moment, picturing a scenario in your head of you and Issei on a board, water spraying around you as you coasted down a wave. You'd be lying if you said you weren't a bit envious of the boy's skills, surfing always looked fun but you could never get over the fear of a wave toppling down and swallowing you whole.

"I brought my longboard if you guys want to try it out," Iwa said, sending a soft smile your way.

In a moment of pure confidence, you stood up and pulled off the shirt you had snagged from Mattsun.

"It wouldn't hurt to try."

You and Matsukawa were sent off with a few whoops and good lucks as the two of you trekked down to the shoreline. You stood nervously, feet just barely toeing the water, as you watched Issei bring the board into the hungry ocean and wet it down a bit.

"Ok lie down on your stomach just about here," he called out, hand slapping down on the middle of the board.

With Issei's help, you had shakily made it onto the surfboard. He then joined you, gently nudging your legs apart so he could lie down in the space between your thighs, his shoulders hovering just over your hips.

He slowly paddled the two of you out, veering away from the area with larger waves to avoid scaring you. Once he spotted a promising wave he started roughly paddling to get the board into a position to catch it. Slowly you felt the surfboard picking up speed, rising slightly as it got caught up in the current.

Mattsun quickly stood up and yelled out for you to do the same, which you hesitantly obliged. Your hands linked with Issei's the second you stood up, both of your arms outstretched as he worked to keep the two of you balanced. You soon noticed why he loved surfing so much, it was freeing to glide across the water. Joyfully giggles ripped through your body as you started to enjoy the feeling of the wind and salty spray.

Suddenly a rogue wave from the side collided with yours, sending both you and Matsukawa tumbling into the churning water. The second your head popped up above the surface he had his hands on your waist to help you stay afloat while you recovered from the sudden wipeout.

"That was really fun!"

Your excitement surprised him, it was a running joke about how you fell for a surfer boy when you could barely swim in the ocean without being scared off by cold water and heavy waves. Issei's heart fluttered a bit at your excitement.

"Yeah?" He questioned, his hands slid down to your hips to get a better hold on you.

It was then that you both noticed something or well....lack of something.

You could feel Issei's hands against your skin, not feel his hands against you through your swimming bottoms, you could feel the entirety of his hands against your bare skin.

Matsukawa slowly let his eyes trail down to your lower body, a suggestive grin spread across his face as he looked back up at you.

"We should do this more often, babe."

"Issei!"

[lov3nerdstuff]

Burn

*Loki x reader*

Parts: Drabble/Oneshot

Words: 1.7k

Summary: Loki witnesses an incident in the library that makes it all the harder for him to keep his feelings for you a secret. Until he can't any longer...

A.N.: This was part of Someone to you! I cut it out because it didn't fit the story anymore, then planned on using it in Being Human, but that also didn't really fit... So here it goes as a drabble! Enjoy 💗

______________________________

One late autumn night, it was still a few hours too early for your usual visit to Loki's room for your daily conversations about just everything, he was looking through the library in search of a new read that wouldn't bore his mind into oblivion. Sauntering through the aisles had become somewhat of a habit of his, the darkness of the room and the presence of so many impeccable pieces of literature had a calming effect on his constantly troubled mind. And it distracted him from the very strong and very irritating feelings he'd started to develop for you over the course of your friendship. Every night you came to visit, it would lead the god into a spiral of excitement, joy and irritation, for he just did not know what to make of these new and dangerously strong emotions for you.

He picked up a book with sixteenth century French poetry, flipping through the pages without actually looking at the words (he'd read them before anyway), when he heard the large doors being pushed open rather forcefully.

"Look, I know it's none of my business, but… it is my fucking business." Tony snapped, but Loki could see neither him nor the person he was talking to from behind the many aisles of books.

"It's really none of your business." You replied coldly, making Loki rise his eyebrows to himself in surprise. Maybe it wasn't the nicest thing to snoop on your conversation… but he was still the god of mischief after all.

"It is my business if it happens in my house!" Stark protested loudly and Loki inevitably rolled his eyes.

"This isn't your house, Tony. It's the Avengers base, and if you like it or not, he is one of you." Your voice sounded so harsh, so determined… unlike anything Loki had ever heard from you. To him, you were always so heartmeltingly kind, so fragile inside out that he didn't even know if you possessed what it took to be of serious assistance in battle.

"He is here because we need Thor, and that was the absolutely only reason I agreed to let him stay." Tony sighed. So this was about Loki himself, after all… "If it wasn't for Thor, Loki would be locked up in a cell in the basement. And he will be, the moment he lays a hand on you."

"You have absolutely no right to decide that… Don't forget who you are talking to, and be careful who you talk about." You hissed back at the man of iron, and Loki's heart did a strange and overwhelming fluttering thing that it hadn't ever done before. Was it odd that he found this harsher side of you irresistibly attractive?

"But you do? Is that why you're sneaking into his room every night? To hook up with him because no one else is available and…" Tony didn't get to talk on, his words disrupted by a muted, strangled noise that made Loki frown. Now he simply couldn't resist the temptation to see what was going on anymore, and he peaked around the corner of the bookshelf. What he saw indeed caused his lips to part and his eyes to widen inevitably.

"Don't EVER dare speaking to me like that again." Your voice echoed through the entire room as Stark floated motionlessly mid-air in between the bookshelves, unable to move or even speak. Yet, you hadn't even lifted a finger, nor spoken a word. You merely stood still, relaxed as ever, watching the man in front of you hanging in the open space. "You are one of the very few people in this world who know exactly who I am and what I am capable of and I expect you to behave accordingly. When I ask you to leave Loki alone, you will do it. When I ask you to stop mocking him, you will do it and when I ask you to trust my judgement, you will do it AT ONCE. Understood?"

With a loud thud, Stark dropped to the floor, breathing heavily.

"Yeah yeah, I got it. Reindeer Games is all yours." He replied, out of breath, and Loki's immediate thought was that he would give anything to be yours indeed.

"Don't call him that. He doesn't like it and thus I do not like it." You said calmly, moving further along the shelves, making Loki hide further back behind his own. What by all the gods had just happened?! You'd been introduced to him as an assistant for the team, someone to deal with all the PR and the sorts… someone mortal and without powers. Loki got the impression that he'd been lied to, very boldly and very WELL indeed. Otherwise he'd been able to tell something was off weeks ago… Lying to the god of lies was such a bold move that it made him smirk as his adoration for you grew infinitesimally.

"C'mon Y/n, I'm not stupid… You keep defending and protecting him, and you're the only one he talks to at all. He even keeps protecting you too, in his own, weird, Loki way. You two clearly are more alike than either of you cares to admit. I just don't get what draws you to him. He's evil, and very much dangerous and…" Stark rambled and you turned around to glare at him in a mere second, making him jump and apologize immediately. "Sorry! Sorry… please don't try to kill me again."

"I am dangerous as well, Tony. You better don't forget that." You replied easily, and a wave of pure power radiated off of you so intensely that even Loki could feel it. It made him shiver and his heart race like mad, while his entire being longed to be close to you. To make you his. Not because of your only now obvious mightiness, even though that was definitely hotter than should be allowed, but because of YOU. He'd been bewitched by you a long time ago, in a way he hadn't understood until now. But now, he saw that behind all the power, it was indeed you he craved. You that had gotten him addicted. Not power, not might… He'd fallen for you.

For another few minutes he kept hiding behind the bookshelf, listening in on the conversation, but found nothing to be remotely interesting about it anymore. Only once Stark excused himself and made his way out of the library, Loki paid more attention to his surroundings again… were you still here? He couldn't hear a thing and thus peaked around the corner of the aisle of shelves once more… nobody there.

"Snooping isn't very polite, now, is it?" Your calm voice spoke up from right behind him, making Loki jump horribly.

"Damn Y/n…" The words slipped past his lips before he could stop them as he spun around to face you. "I tend to stab people who scare me like this! Do you want to risk that?"

"I'm fairly sure you couldn't stab me even if you tried." You grinned at him smugly, standing way too close for Loki's heart to calm down even remotely. "Though I wish you didn't have to find out like this… Find out that I'm…"

"Absolutely incredible?" He finished your sentence with a smirk of his own.

"I meant to say a terrifying freak, but thanks for the flattery." You chuckled bitterly, averting your beautiful eyes from his.

"Why would you say that?" Loki's smirk vanished the second he saw the doubt, the disgust in your eyes, the same expression he had seen so many times in the mirror. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

"Because it's true. I'm a monster... I can hurt people without blinking an eye, kill them with a single thought. Toy with their minds, hell, with all of reality like handful of fucking clay." You spat in utter disgust and Loki's heart clenched painfully. How could you, the most enchanting creature in creation say something so cruel about herself?

"I think that's amazing." He blurted out before he could stop himself. "You… You're amazing."

Your eyes shot up to meet his in an instant, filled with a new emotion Loki couldn't quite put his finger to. "You're not repelled by it? By me?"

"Never." He offered you a small smile, taking an involuntary step closer to you. "You've not seen true monsters, darling. But I have, and I can assure you that you're very far from that."

"So you're not at all scared by the fact that I could kill you right on the spot?" You rose an eyebrow at him, while your gaze stayed fixed on his so intensely that Loki felt a pleasant shiver run down his spine as every nerve within his body was on high alert.

"I've always been one to play with fire." He smirked down at you as he stood towering right in front of you now. Gods, you had long ago captured his mind and soul with your enchanting self, and obviously the rest of him was to follow now.

"Aren't you afraid to get burned?" You asked in a breath, a single finger reluctantly brushing against his hand.

"I'm a frost giant, darling. It takes one hell of a lot for me to burn." He chuckled deeply, capturing your hand in his before you could pull your fingers back. A small gasp escaped your lips as they parted at the contact, your eyes wide as they dug deep into his soul. For a second both of you remained silent, faces only inches apart as the tension threatened to suffocate Loki.

Finally your lips parted yet again to reveal the softest of words into the minimal distance between you. "Burn with me, Loki…"

In half of a heartbeat every doubt vanished from his body. He needed you to be his and his alone, and he needed to be yours in return. Half a heartbeat later he had you pinned against the large bookshelf behind your back, relishing the small gasp you let escape before his lips met yours in a kiss filled with the passion and the desire of multiple hundred sleepless nights. Filled with the promise of a shared eternity yet to come.

_______________________________

General Tags:

@its-remy-not-ratatouille @wegingerangelica @thidls12333 @tomstoobeautiful @dreary-skies-stuff @averyhill4445 @wiczer @lotus-eyedindiangoddess @theweirdlunatic @caretheunicorn @kthemarsian @lady-of-lies @sadly-falling-through-wonderland @strawberrysandcream @noplacelikehome77 @theoneanna @mishaandthebrits @mygodisloki @i-am-a-mes @nonsensicalobsessions @exygon @hiddles-lobotomy @rjohnson1280 @annwhojumps @spookycatqueen @salempoe @headoverhiddleston @fanfiction-and-stress @createdfromblue @halszka-potter @thecreatiivecorner @themusingsofmany @inthemarvelvoid @from-hel-i-with-love @kinghiddlestonanddixon @scorpionchild81

If you'd like to be added to my general tag list, tell me in the comments 🥰✨ also, I'd love some feedback! 💚

[sirladysketch]

So guess who accidentally started a companion fic to a oneshot that accidentally grew into a six chapter fic? *fingerguns*

Compilations will be a series of “short” drabbles from Data Roxas’ point of view during the fic Defragmentation. I’ll be posting them here as I write them, and as soon as they’re all done, I’ll post them in order on AO3. You can read the first snippet I wrote for Comp here.

Please note: While Defrag is a t-rated gen fic, Comp is AkuRoku with a side of SoRiku and most definitely not E for Everyone. ;P

He’s cold.

Cold, and wet, and he’s laying on something hard, although he managed to cocoon himself in a fluffy blanket somewhere along the way. He must’ve fallen asleep on the roof again, watching for a late summer meteor shower, one of the only good things about summer vacation ending, and it must’ve rained in the night, but then he went …. downstairs into his room…. to grab his comforter…? Before… coming back…? Out to the wet roof to sleep?

That doesn’t make any sense, and besides, it doesn’t smell like the town after a rainstorm. It smells slightly acrid, almost like disinfectant, and the liquid he feels on his skin has an oily, almost soapy feel to it. And even without opening his eyes he can tell that he’s naked under the blanket, and that’s definitely not normal and completely kills the ‘sleeping on the roof’ theory.

On top of that, he’s got a splitting headache and his tongue is stuck to the roof of his mouth and it tastes like he’s been licking salt. The room is humming, and now that he’s thinking about it, although his body is cold his hands are warm and tingling, almost like someone’s been sitting beside him and holding his hand while he slept.

Has he been sleeping? He tries to think of the last thing he can remember, but his brain is too fuzzy and hurts too much to come up with any distinct memories. He knows, vaguely, that it’s the end of summer-- he’s got homework that he’s procrastinated on long enough that they’re all gonna have to work together to get it done-- and he’s been trying to enjoy every last minute of it. Had he gotten sick? Was he in a hospital? That would explain the smells and the sound of humming machinery, but not the wet slime, or the hand-holding feeling.

The only way he can figure it out is if he opens his eyes, but the light is blinding and it burns, sending a wave of pain rolling through his body that he can feel in his bones. He can’t hold back the moan as the aches begin to set in, but before his eyes can adjust to the bright light he’s being hauled up into a sitting position and crushed against a very solid, very warm chest.

“You’re finally awake,” rumbles a voice from within that chest, and it’s even warmer than the heat coming off the guy’s skin.

He bites back nausea from the sudden movement, but he’s still cold so Roxas leans into his new best friend, leaning into the almost burning touch. But the contact is brief and the guy pulls away, helping him sit up and wrap the blanket even closer around himself. The light doesn’t hurt quite so much now, and as the sickening roll of his stomach starts to fade his vision clears a bit and he’s able to get a good look at the person who grips his hand like he’s going to float away.

It’s a guy. It’s a guy with ridiculously spiky bright red hair and a grin stretching from ear to ear, as though seeing Roxas awake has given him a new lease on life.

Roxas has no idea who he is.

Roxas squints at him, trying to remember if he’s ever seen him before. Maybe he’s a doctor? Or maybe he’d seen him around town when he hung out with the gang. He looks vaguely familiar, but Roxas already knows that if he’d met him before, he’d remember him. Even sitting he’s looking down at him, which means he’d probably tower over Roxas if they stood side by side.

And his face, he’s…. Roxas hesitates at saying ‘pretty’, but the guy’s face is elegant with a long, delicate nose and intense green eyes that contrast against the stark bright red of his hair. He looks like he’s probably all sharp angles, too, with those high cheekbones and pointy chin, except that everything is softened by that smile. He’s looking at Roxas like he’s the most important person in the universe, and Roxas flushes a little under the intensity of that gaze. The guy’s focus on Roxas is also kinda intimidating, like he asked a question and everything depends on Roxas’ response.

“How are you feeling?”

Roxas is spared having to respond when someone else interrupts, and he shifts to look at the other speaker. Another unfamiliar face, although something about this guy sets his teeth on edge, although the guy pouring heat into his hand gives it a reassuring squeeze. Then he notices even more movement and he realizes that Mr. Dark & Broody and Mr. Radiator aren’t the only people in the room. There are… a lot of people.

He looks around all the unfamiliar faces, and lands back on Mr. Radiator, the one who’s happiest to see him. He’s still holding Roxas’ hand, although Roxas still hasn’t been able to figure out how they know each other. He looks down at it, briefly, then looks into the guy’s face again.

“Who…?” he starts, and then he catches sight of some familiar faces at last and relief floods his system. He lets go of the guy’s hand to tug up the blanket, even as he tries to figure out how to get off the table without bumping into anyone.

“Hayner! Pence! Olette!”

Another vaguely familiar guy prevents him from falling over when he moves too quickly, and then it’s yet another guy who starts asking him questions about how he’s feeling, and can he tell him how many fingers he’s holding up. The young guy is the doctor, then, but it doesn’t matter because the gang is here and they’re smiling at him, so whatever happened must’ve been awful. He’s gonna have to buy them ice cream for a week to make up for it, whatever it is.

“Hey Roxas,” Hayner greets him, and Roxas holds out his hand to do their secret shake, but Hayner flubs it less than two moves in. Olette smiles but doesn’t quite look at him, and he tugs up the blanket further, feeling a flush crawl across his skin. More than anything, he really wishes he had a shirt or something.

Then the doctor guy orders him to look into his pen light for a minute. Roxas is still blinking away spots when Mr. Radiator jumps to his feet, startling Roxas out of the surreal daze he’d fallen into.

“You’re telling me that after everything we went through, everything I fought for, I died for, you weren’t able to save my best friend?”

Roxas shivers a bit at the cold in the guy’s voice, a complete change from his bedside manner only a few minutes ago. He doesn’t know why but his heart begins to race, but whether it’s fear or something else he can’t tell, and he doesn’t get a chance to process it because the familiar looking guy with brown hair stands up too, hands on hips.

“He’s still Roxas, Axel,” the guy says, although he takes a step back at the look ‘Axel’ gives him. Roxas would, too, if all that anger was focused on him.

“This thing is not Roxas!” hisses Axel, and he’s pointing at Roxas. “This is just a… copy! A stupid, useless puppet that has the gall to wear Roxas’ face without having any of Roxas inside it! It’s just worthless data!”

Roxas shrinks back on the table, pulling the blanket closer around himself as if that could ward off the guy’s strange and hurtful words. His head still aches, he’s wet and he feels weird and dizzy, and the guy who was so gentle and warm at first has chilled to a cutting edge.

Hayner, Pence, and Olette shift so that they’re standing in front of him, forming a physical barrier between Roxas and Axel, which gives him enough space to suck in a breath and try to calm his racing heart. He feels dazed, like he’s been skateboarding and the board was yanked out from under him, and there’s a slight ringing in his ears as he feels his blood pressure rise.

Then a bundle of something soft is pushed into his arms, and it’s the doctor handing him what looks to be a bundle of clothes. They’re not his clothes, he doesn’t own anything in these colors, but it’s enough to ground him, and he focuses on Axel since he’s the one drawing the most attention to himself.

“I don’t understand,” Roxas says at last, knowing that he’s missing something important, feeling a need to say something but not knowing what it is he’s supposed to say, or even who to say it to. His head hurts and the noise is only making it worse, and his heart’s racing like he’s been running for miles, but he just doesn’t understand what’s going on and nothing is making any sense.

If he did something to make Axel angry, to hurt Axel’s best friend, it would make sense that he was angry with Roxas. But it doesn’t match up to the relieved smile he’d given Roxas when he first woke up, and besides Roxas doesn’t know this guy or his best friend, he doesn’t even know how he got here.

He waits for Axel to say something, to explain, to help Roxas understand what is going on. But  Axel doesn’t even look at him, he just turns around and walks up the stairs and out of the room, ignoring the irritated complaints from the others. The girl he’d been standing with just looks sad, but Roxas is shielded from the rest of it when Pence steps up and puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t pay attention to him, man, he’ll get over it.” He grins down at Roxas, then gestures to the room at large. “We’ve got a lot to catch you up on, but why don’t we start with getting you dressed? Don’t worry, it’ll just be me and Hayner.”

Relief floods through him again, and he gives his friend a grateful smile. “Yeah,” he says, but he can’t help looking over at the place where Axel stormed out. He can feel the prick of tears at the corners of his eyes, and when people pretend not to notice, he’s grateful.

He’s grateful that it’s his two friends who help him upstairs into one of the rooms. That they let him shower and change in private, even though they’re standing guard outside of the door. That they’re there, sitting right next to him as the familiar boy who introduces himself as “Sora” sits down across from him and begins to explain. That after, they don’t say anything about how he reacts, or hold what he says in the heat of the moment against him. That they’re still there, after all that, and they don’t expect him to say or do anything except to think about what they’ve said.

In fact, the only thing they ask before they give him some space is if they can get him anything to make him more comfortable. He’s grateful that they don’t ask him how he feels.

He’s cold.

[littlespacestars]

Shallura Fic Recs

A long-ass list of some of my favorite Shallura fics. LOL. I tried my best to categorize them since some of them can apply to more than one. No particular order either. This got out of hand, oops.

Multichapter

By Prudence Ruled (4/4) - ehmazing

“As per tradition, the soon-to-be Queen of Altea appoints a ceremonial guard to accompany her during the coronation. But spending six months at Allura's side may prove more difficult for Shiro than keeping her alive.” 

Slow burn, bodyguard AU

A Thousand Moments (7/7) - smolsarcasticraspberry

“The war is over. Allura is engaged and settled on New Altea. But when Shiro returns to New Altea with the other Paladins, his presence brings back old memories for Allura - of their time together, and the love they shared during the war.”

Mature, Shallura as exes, past relationship, regretful pining, future fic, after the war, angst, pining, Altean Shiro,

How to Drown in the Desert (8/?)  - wordswithdragons (shiroallura)

“Conducting a diplomatic mission on a nearby planet, Shiro and Allura have to pretend to be married to build rapport with the locals. Easier said than done―especially when they just happen to be secretly in love with each other.

Fake relationship AU, fake marriage, mutual pining, fluff, injuries, so much pining, sharing beds, pining, nightmares

The Shards of Us (7/7) - HomuraBakura

“Shiro and Allura travel to a small cabin on Earth in the middle of nowhere to find a small oasis of peace for a while. A series of oneshots for Shallura Week 2016.”

Fluff, hurt/comfort, cabin, one-shots

The Places We Call Home (6/6) - ashesandhoney

“A little bit Allura character study, a little bit fluffy cuddle fest, a little bit playing with headcanons.”

Explicit, sexual content, fluff, cuddling/snuggling, solarium, garden, trouble sleeping, use of Altean magic, castle translation, Allura’s markings

Lion Soul (2/4) - Braincoins

“Allura is one of the leaders of a nomadic pride of werelions. Shiro is the lone human in the pride, always out of place, unable to be a part of the culture he was raised in. Whatever he feels for Allura is irrelevant. He's no match for her, no matter how much he wishes he were. The pride is considering going on the offensive against the Hunters - humans who stalk and kill weres - rather than continuing to flee and hide. And Shiro has to decide if the only home he's ever known is really home, and, if it's not, what should he do about that? What can he do?”

AU, werelions, medieval fantasy, pining Shiro, human Shiro, background Alforan, background Klance

Jealousy (3/3) - paladinsofquiznak

“As the team forges a new alliance, Shiro must confront a figure from Allura's past, a new challenge, and his own feelings.”

Jealousy, pining, mutual pining, light angst, fluff, suitor

Kindergarten (238/?) - MilkTeaMiku

“Shiro works as a kindergarten teacher.”

Short chapters, fluff, tooth-rotting fluff, modern AU, kindergarten teachers Allura and Shiro, new teacher Shiro, Kid Fic, Childhood, Domestic fluff, family fluff, kid paladins, side Klance

If You Seek His Monument, Look Around (3/13) - Haywarde

“Love is friendship that has caught fire. Or. Very slow burn Shallura fic involving post traumatic stress and survivor's guilt.”

Dealing with PTSD, BAMF Allura, Shiro needs a hug, hurt/comfort, injury, Altean culture, strong!Allura, guilt, breathing exercises

Touch the Earth (11/11) - addie-cake (MonkeyVenom)

“After a tragic accident, one that left young Katie Holt an orphan and Takashi Shirogane both a victim and a new legal guardian, the two have to learn to weave through the struggles of family life such as working through each other's schedules; helping each other with school; and, naturally, finding some new family members along the way.”

Pre-school!AU, teacher Allura, Shiro raising Pidge, kid paladins, fluff, disabled Shiro, young parent, mutual pining, domestic fluff, Takashi

The Worst Timing (9/?) - SeveralSmallHedgehogs

“The most beautiful man in the world lives in Allura's apartment building, and he only sees her when she looks absolutely awful. Good thing he's friendly.” Mutual pining, slow burn, fluff, broganes

Breaking Point (6/?) -- selfishmachxne (**not exactly Shallura-centered)

“First responder AU, crime dramedy, angst, drama, eventual relationships, gang violence.”

Shallura, Klance, ocean rescue Lance, firefighter Keith, sheriff Allura, police officer Shiro, paramedic Hunk, EMT Pidge, detective Coran

Drabble Collections

Closer (5/5) - alluran

Collection of Drabbles for Shallura Week 2016

Fluff, pining, Allura and Coran centric, reunited, first time they meet AU, babysitting AU,

Chasing Clouds (10/10) - stellatiate

“‘A person learns how to love himself through the simple acts of loving and being loved by someone else.’”

Short Drabbles, prompts, fluff, NSFW, modern au

Kuroweek 2017 (8/8) - rainingWolf

“(Hopefully) a whole week of stories dedicated to dark Shiro, be it the paladin himself being a dark character or the story being dark in general...”

Angst, suspense, drama, pining, romance, twist endings, Shiro angst, tragedy, PTSD, self-harm

Stars Don’t Sleep (8/?) - wordswithdragons

“A series of drabbles and oneshots, based off tumblr requests and random inspirations, about the relationship between Shiro and Allura from "Voltron: Legendary Defender" (originally posted on tumblr: shiroallura).”

Dancing, romance, fluff, Altean and Earth culture, sparring, secret relationship, trouble sleeping, first kiss, mission, rival gang family au

Shallura AUs

A Stranger on a Train - ashesandhoney

“An all-human AU in which Allura is a lawyer and Shiro is a pilot and they meet on a commuter train and smutty things happen in places where smutty things aren't supposed to happen.”

Explicit, modern setting, meeting on the same train, hangar, pilot Shiro, lawyer Allura, fluff, blow jobs, semi-public sex, strangers

Underlying Everything - stellatiate

“The way I feel about him is like a heartbeat — soft and persistent, underlying everything.” Three times Shiro's heart beats out of control and the one time it stops.”

Set in the future, time skips, living on Earth, mild blood, fluff

Hit it Off - distinctive_pineapples

“She would have reveled in her victory for a while longer if she hadn’t noticed a few glaring details. Sure, the man in front of her had a patch of light hair above his brow, but unless Lotor’s hair was darker and significantly shorter than she’d initially perceived, Allura had just punched the wrong man.”

Lance and co throw Allura a party, giant blind date, eligible suitors, meet-cute

A Wish Your Heart Makes - nayanroo (teslatricity)

“Takashi Shirogane is the only son of two very loving parents, and has a golden childhood. But then his father dies, and when his mother remarries, it is to a cruel man who cares more for his two sons than for his new stepson. When Shiro's mother dies and he's left with only his stepfather, his life becomes an endless cycle of servitude. But if you believe, even if just a little, your dreams can come true--all it takes is a hint of magic, and a very determined princess.”

Cinderella AU, Male Cinderella, fluff, mutual pining, dancing

A Risk to Date - stelliate

Shiro tries asking Allura for the date. He accidentally asks her on a date instead.

Tourist AU, intergalactic travel hub, vacationing to other planets, tour guide Allura, visiting Altea, Shiro’s Altean fails him

The Weight of Your Hands - MilkTeaMiku

“Five times Shiro comes to hold Allura's hands in his.”

Modern AU, university, fluff, hurt/comfort

Stowaway (1/?) - Kuro_cache

“Shiro, retired from galaxy exploration, lives on the 'second Earth' space station orbiting the original planet of his species. His life of retirement suddenly changes when an alien fugitive crash lands into the station and he chooses to save her from the alien empire on the hunt for her. He later learns the consequences of his choice might be fatal.”

Action/adventure, romance, angst/tragedy, exploration, science fiction, sexual content, alien culture, alien sex, developing relationship

Shallura Fluff

The Voltron Intervention - ptw30

“The Paladins realize the dance Shiro and Allura are playing around their feelings and decide to take matters into their own paws. Lance has the best plan, of course, and hey - he might even take his own advice.”

Fluff, family fluff, side-Klance, everyone gangs up on Shiro

Not All Touches are Innocent - Linae_Luminae

“Allura walks in on the team tickling Shiro and before she could ask, they all bolt. A conversation later about how tickling differs between cultures and suddenly things get a little bit... steamy.”

Group tickling, awkward situation, flirting, close conversation, sexual tension, Shiro tickles Allura and it backfires

Your Heart is Your Masterpiece - pensverusswords

“The five times Allura surprises Shiro with her Altean abilities, and the one time he surprises her. Or, the one where Shiro really likes it when Allura is taller than him.”

Fluff, pining, minor injuries, pining, non-sexual kink, size and strength kink, developing relationships

Tether - orphan_account

“Five times they held hands and didn't want to let go.”

Fluff, hand holdings, mutual pining, comfort

And We Were One - Stratagem (stardustandrobotlions)

“Shiro wants to dance with Allura. Shiro is nervous about asking. Allura wants him to ask. Paladins and Coran ship it. Tango!Lance.”

Dancing, fluff, fancy dress

The Limit of Stars - solarlances

“the sky is the limit. this steel is my temple. I am the champion.”

Pining, first kiss, Shallura Week

White - SakuraChiyo

“Allura finds a new hobby in learning a language from Earth, and who better to teach her Japanese than Shiro?”

Fluff, drabble, Japanese

Go On and Kiss the Girl - pixie_rings (materassassino)

“Five times Shiro and Allura almost kiss...”

Almost kiss, fluff, trouble sleeping, dancing, pining, library, small injury, basically cock-blocked by all the paladins

Show Me the Stars - xsilverstar

“His eyes do more than ground her. They make her float. (For Shallura Sundays)”

Altean soul theories, space metaphors, quintessence, reading souls, pining, dancing

Moments of You - Seliphra

“When Allura gets injured saving the day, Shiro can't help but try to take care of her.”

First kiss, love confessions, fluff, minor injuries, BAMF Allura, nervous Shiro, hurt/comfort, Shiro is in awe and Allura is amazing

First Step - feelsbender

“Shiro and Allura share a dance together, one that is close to Allura's heart.”

Shallura Sundays, dancing, fluff, hurt/comfort

Just Say So - StellarRequiem

“What was supposed to be a stern conversation with Shiro about his insistence on putting himself at risk to protect Allura turns into an unanticipated confession. Shiro being Shiro, he takes it like a champ. Allura being Allura, she jumps right into a kiss.”

First kiss, mutual feelings, declarations of love

Phenomenon - Stratagem (stardustandrobotlions)

“A year after their marriage, Allura and Shiro figure out that Allura is pregnant. So much happy.“

Pregnancy, future family fluff, married shallura, shallura baby

What a Shame, the Poor Groom’s Bride is an Alien - pixie_rings (materassassino)

“Shiro proposes, Allura doesn't quite understand why marriage is an Earth thing, Lance fails at planning a wedding.”

Marriage, marriage planning, future fic, background Klance, fluff

Let Me Come Home - westandvigilant

“Shiro is finally back and Allura doesn't exactly know what to do with herself. this is my attempt at fluffing up a sad prompt...”

Sad fluff, hurt/comfort, injured Shiro, worried Allura

Rules of the Baby Bump - Stratagem (stardustandrobotlions)

“1. Strangers = No Touching the Baby Bump 2. Family = Can Touch the Baby Bump 3. Shiro = Well This One is Obvious“

Pregnancy, alien cultural differences, space family, fluff

Shallura Pining

Got Me Workin’ - Redburn

“In desperate times of need, Allura searches out Lance for flirting advice.”

Mutual pining, fluff, ripped Shiro, dancing, bad pick-up lines, wingman Lance

What Lies Beneath - pixie_rings (materassassino)

“Shiro and Allura are stranded on a deserted ocean planet after the Black Lion crashes. The most they can do is wait for rescue, but something lurks, and it's not just feelings they have yet to act upon.” -- mutual pining, stranded, cosmic horror, Shallura Week fic

Astronomy in Reverse - minsazucar

“in which: allura is not pining, shiro is dense as hell, lance & pidge are a menace, and Hunk Saves the Day” -- pining, dense shiro, wingmen pidge and lance

Snowdrop - Linae_Liminae

“It’s a delicate flower that droops. It hangs and offers only promises in metaphors and hazy prophecies. He does not understand why it comes to mind as he falls and falls for her…”

Lost in space, sexual tension, brash first kiss, trouble between them, saving Allura, desperation

Androcles - Braincoins

“If Shiro’s not going to confess his feelings to Allura, then Black will take matters into her own paws.”

Wingman Black lion, Black and Shiro’s bond, Black’s thoughts, pining Shiro, first kiss

It’s Gonna be Me - nerdy_caito5

“Shiro is in "Dad Mode™" and has it bad for Allura. What else is obvious?”

Slight panic attack, mutual pining, Pidge helps him, goes into “Dad Mode” to help Keith

Shallura Hurt/Comfort

Electric Indigo - phollie

“Shiro's mind takes him to the bottom of the ocean.”

PTSD, Dissociation, Hurt/Comfort, talking w/ Pidge, Allura to the rescue

Space Cold - Braincoins

“Shiro doesn't handle being sick well, but fortunately Allura knows how to handle Shiro. (NOT THAT WAY, YOU PERVS)”

Space Dad caught the Space Cold, whiny sick Shiro, nasty medicine, fluff, Allura takes care of whiny Space Dad

An Abyss of Our Own - smolsarcasticraspberry

“Shiro has a panic attack. Allura has to figure out how to help him.”

Angst, hurt/comfort, panic attack, fluff, dark, mind link AU, feels/emotions

Nevertheless - thir13enth

“All she will ask of him are his lips.”

PTSD, hurt/comfort, battle scars, insecurities, implied sexual content, fluff

Petals of Consolation - StarlightTigress

“As the leaders of Voltron, their minds lay heavy and tired at night. However, a run in with each other may leave both minds at ease.”

Hurt/comfort, PTSD, grief/mourning, fluff, trouble sleeping

Line of Fire - MilkTeaMiku

Hurt/Comfort, fluff, light angst, sleeping together, stress, tired Shiro

Connection - Braincoins

“Leadership has its consequences. The paladins and their lions are back with the Castle, but Shiro's more than a little worse for wear. Allura's apparently been keeping secrets and no one's happy about that. Keith and Lance have a confrontation. Meanwhile, the Galra Empire has a new plan to capture Voltron. With the paladins' trust of each other fracturing, will they be able to stop Zarkon from succeeding this time?”

Hurt/comfort, blood, nightmares, PTSD, season 2 AU, first kiss, story that got away from its author, badass Pidge

One Million Sleepless Nights - FractalBunny

“Feelings are a real bitch to sort through when no one understands what you're going through. Thankfully, Shiro and Allura realize they're able to confide in each other.”

Hurt/comfort, angst, PTSD, reminiscing, drunk Shiro, hotel room, they talk about their feelings

Autoclave - ilgaksu

“Four days after Allura kills her father, Shiro finds her crying in the control room.”

Hurt/comfort, dealing with loss, birthday, Japanese, Altean, language, culture

Gone - coralreefskim

“Shiro is gone and Allura realizes something she'd always known.”

Allura-centric, Black paladin Allura, angst, angst with a happy ending, kinda, coping with loss, crying, coping, everyone’s POV, minor Klance

Grief is Like the Ocean - thirt3enth

“some days are better than others. —shallura (ft. love, loss, and recovering)”

Meeting Shiro’s parents, grief, death, hurt/comfort, loss

Mature Shallura

Drowned in Oxygen - nayanroo (teslatricity)

“Shiro has some questions about the marks on Allura's body. Allura is a very willing teacher.”

Porn without plot, alien biology, Allura’s markings, smut

Closer to Midnight - smolsarcasticraspberry

“Allura and Shiro love goofing around after hours, but when they decide to get into a healing pod together as a joke, they get a little more than they bargained for.”

Explicit, smut, mind link AU, feels/emotions, little bit of plot but mostly smut

Conflict of Interest - smolsarcasticraspberry

“The elevator ride up to the bridge every morning takes forty-five seconds. Allura thinks that forty-five second elevator ride counts as "work time". Shiro thinks it doesn't. So far, they're at an impasse. The conflict devolves into a competition to see who can make the other flustered right before they have to go to work. But hey... it's not a conflict if you both win, right?”

Smut, flut, mind link AU, boinking in the elevator

She’s Like the Sun - sdd_writes_things

“In which neither Shiro nor Allura can actually sleep at night and they're super thirsty for each other, turning tentative hand holding into nearly making love on the floor which then somehow turns into seventy miles of blankets and then sleeping in front of a window.”

Mature, almost smutty content, shy handholding to violent necking

Get Out of Our Hair! - orphan_account

“shallura nsfw: 5 times where they almost get caught fucking by the paladins/coran and the one time they were discovered.”

Explicit, cockblocked by literally everyone, and then caught in the act

Stress Response - georgette_the_frog

“Last time Shiro slept with Allura he accidentally wound up incredibly fucking high.”

Xenobiology, fluff, accidentally drugged, Shiro is high oops

Risk and Reward - Braincoins

“Allura is the Black Paladin of Voltron, former Champion of the Galra arena. Everything else she's wanted in her life - going to space, meeting aliens - has ended badly. Why should wanting Shiro - the advisor to Princess Romelle of Altea - be any different? It's not worth risking their friendship to pursue this crush. Or is it?”

Human!Allura, Altean!Shiro, smut, flutt, vaginal sex, oral, language

Pulled Me Into Focus - wingsofbadass

“It took Shiro longer than expected to figure it out.Allura had thought it was so obvious, that he would see through her in no time. Shiro was an observant man in general and an observant lover in particular. Quite easily, he read her body language through touch alone and understood the needy noises she made like pleasure was his mother tongue...”

Established relationship, sexual content, explicit consent, arm kink, trust

Drapery is Not Soundproof - pixie_rings (materassassino)

“Allura is bored and Shiro is hot. They just so happen to be at an intergalactic diplomatic event. Not a problem in the slightest.”

Porn without plot, semi-public sex, fingering, blowjobs, oral sex

Heat - awriterandhismuse

“Allura couldn’t help but picture Shiro standing underneath his own sun, soaking in all its heat. But picturing Shiro doing anything other than what he was doing at that very tic was proving to be very difficult.”

Shiro is warm, sleeping together, smut, alien anatomy, first time, so much for resting

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Annnnnnd here’s some shameless self promotion for the two fics I have, pfft:

The Weight of a Name - littlespacestars

“Shiro confides in Allura about his real name when she notices he’s more quiet than usual.”

Slight angst, sad Shiro, comforting Allura, fluff, inner turmoil, coming clean, soft talk, wise Allura

The Truth About Forever - littlespacestars

“Allura and Shiro take a break from protecting the universe in a secluded cabin on Earth. Allura comes to the realization that their relationship might not work due to their differing aging process.”

Angst, fluff, secluded cabin, snow, cabin fic, smitten Shiro, worried Allura, the downside to an alien girlfriend, Shiro talks about forever, Allura realizes there won’t be a forever, Shiro is a dork, hurt/comfort

[starbirdrampant]

For the fic-meme: space never felt so empty

Home One felt empty without the Falcon there.

Oh who was she kidding, Home One felt empty without Han there.

Luke was still in the infirmary – turned out that falling through the ventilation shafts of a floating mining city was a bad idea even with the Force as a crutch – so Leia let him be. But Chewie had gone with Lando, scouting ahead to find a new base for the Rebellion, which left Leia in her quarters with nothing but one of Han’s old jacket and a recharging C3P0 for company.

Leia’s gaze caught on the jacket, draped casually over the back of the only chair in her quarters – how like Han to just leave his things everywhere. Ancestors help anyone who cluttered up the Falcon, but outside the ship he was a slob – and after only a moment’s deliberation (and a quick glance at 3P0), she pulled the jacket off the chair and pressed her nose against the seams.

The rich scent of old leather and blaster oil that rose from the jacket was familiar enough to bring pinpricks of tears to her eyes, though she hid them by carefully laying the jacket on the bed and folding it so it wouldn’t wrinkle.

“We’ll get him back,” she muttered to no one. “We’ll get him back.”

The durasteel walls didn’t answer.

She straightened the jacket one last time, smoothing her fingers over the sleeves and swearing when her hands shuddered enough to pull one of the sleeves out of line. Sudden fury – at herself, at the Empire, at Vader – curdled in her stomach and with a choked cry she snatched at the jacket and raised it to fling at the door–

A hair clip hit her in the face.

Leia sputtered, rubbing at her smarting lip where the hair clip had fallen, before looking down at the small – yet ridiculously heavy – clip lying on the floor by her feet. The design was familiar, geometric but with an organic quality that mimicked the spiral caves of Alderaan’s northern hemis–

She nearly dropped the clip – she did drop the jacket – and staggered until the backs of her thighs hit the bed, clutching the hair clip close to her chest.

It was made of Alderaanian silver, she realized, as she watched the overhead lights reflect off the metal with the bluish tint so common to jewelry from her homeworld. The design, spirals upon spirals, had been so common as to be considered almost a tourist piece, though now she supposed it would be a collectors item.

…It looked like the piece she’d gotten her mother at ten years old.

Suddenly frantic, she snatched the jacket from the floor and shoved her hands into the pockets, pulling out two depleted blaster charges, a handful of lint, some credits, a data chip, and….there, a piece of flimsi covered in scratched out scribbles and half-formed sentences.

“Princess,” it read, “I found this and thought of you you’d like it. You were so frustrated the other day about not having a hair clip I figured you’d need something to keep that mane off your shoulders. Try to live a little sometimes, yeah?”

The rest of the note was obscured by smudges of engine grease, and cloudy splotches of what may have been blood…but Leia carefully folded the flimsi and tucked it away in her pocket. After a moment, she moved her hands to her braids and unpinned them, sliding the hair clip into place and the braids into a different configuration, one only recognizable to people from Alderaan.

Oh Mama, she thought, her fingers smoothing one last time over the hair clip where it rested on the back of her head. You would have liked him. Papa would have tried so hard to scare him away without actually doing so, but you would have liked him.

~~~~~~~~~~

Weeks later, after Tatooine, after Endor, Leia found Han sitting on her side of the bed in their quarters, his eyes narrowed at something he held in his cupped hands.

“You found it,” he said softly, with wonder in his voice. “I thought it was lost on Bespin.”

She circled the bed and saw the hair clip in his hands. “You left it in your jacket on my quarters on Home One. I found it after– after Bespin.”

“That’s….that’s good. I’m glad.” The look on his face was hesitant. “Did you like it?”

She smiled, her fingers finding his and enclosing the hair clip between them. “I did. The design is Alderaanian, you know.”

He stared at their entwined fingers for a startled moment before pulling one hand free and wrapping his arm around her. “I was pretty sure. The junk dealer I bought it from didn’t really have a clue, but I recognized it from an Alderaanian cruise ship I saw once. I figured if nothing else, it would be something pretty for you to wear, though I know it’s nothing like what you were used to–”

She kissed him. “Han. Thank you.”

He grinned, slow and easy, showing echoes of the smuggler she met in the Death Star. “Anytime Princess.”

send me a title and I’ll write a drabble/oneshot!