#and its the first time hes ever felt truly refreshed in the morning

[justaz]

thinking about arthur who has crazy quick reflexes and is a relatively light sleeper who woke up to the sound of someone in his room and saw merlin crouched down messing with his keys before softly asking “whatre you doing?…before breakfast?”

[nian-7]

Yeydydeyen requests are open‼️‼️ anyways can i request where gn reader fell asleep on the s/o lap? Like they were talking and they felt readers head on their lap.

The characters would be the unit leaders(tsukasa, minori, ichika, kohane and kanade) please and thankyou💗🛐

hello! i tweaked the idea a little bit but it's still got the same concept. enjoy!

Ichika, Minori, Kohane, Tsukasa, Kanade x gn!reader

✧falling asleep on you/them

✧fluff

-Ichika is so sweet when you fall asleep on her shoulder when you both sit together. She gets a little embarrassed at first but she really is smiling and content with you sleeping on her shoulder.

-She doesn't really ever fall asleep on you though, she can stay up pretty late without having to fight her eyes to stay up with you. As long as you're up, she'll try her best to stay up with you until you fall asleep.

-Prefers to lay next to you while you both sleep but, doesn't mind having you rest on her to sleep. Whether that be on her lap or her shoulder, as long as you're resting easy, she's content.

-It's pretty common for both you and Minori to fall asleep while leaning onto the others shoulder. Sometimes one of you just needs a quick nap and the others shoulder is the perfect spot for that.

-Quite honestly, she like to sleep on your lap. It's comforting to her, especially when you start to play with her hair gently. It makes her fall asleep so fast she doesn't even realize that she just did.

-She does prefer to cuddle with you if you both decide to take a nap together though. She just really likes hugging you as you both are comfortably sleeping beside one and other.

-Kohane often comes home from one of her late night shows and wants to sleep but she also wants to stay up with you still! She always feels guilty when she falls asleep on your shoulder or lap because she couldn't keep herself awake.

-It's not uncommon for you both to fall asleep on each other though. She'll fall asleep on your shoulder first and you'll follow soon after, your head leaning on hers.

-She feels bad when she falls asleep on you, leaving you alone as if you both weren't having a conversation. She thought she closed her eyes for one second and then it's suddenly morning! She truly wished she didn't fall asleep so easily like that.

-Tsukasa doesn't particularly fall asleep on you often. He's most times up and about, not sitting at any given moment so it's truly hard to fall asleep on him unless it was late at night when he's mellowed out and gotten tired from the eventful day that was earlier.

-More often than not, you'll be falling asleep next to each other rather than on the other. Sometimes though, you just want to spend some time laying on his lap while he flips through his phone or the channels on tv.

-Its then when that's your only chance to fall asleep on him. He likes to play with your hair occasionally when you lay your head on his lap so it really only adds to the sleepiness that you feel when you lay down.

-When he realizes that you've fallen asleep, he won't move. There's no way that he'd like to wake up his precious s/o after they were tired enough to fall asleep on his lap! He lets you take your nap until you wake up, not wanting to move no matter what.

A comfortable silence was settling in the room as you and Kanade sat on her bed together. She had just gotten off a call with her friends and wanted to spend some time with you. Some well deserved time with all the music she's been composing. She needed a break and sometimes she couldn't get one.

" Hey, look at this cute cat, Kanade. " You angled your phone towards her, refreshing the video to start it over for her. You heard her let out a quiet, short laugh at the cat video as she rested her head on your shoulder.

" The cat was very cute, I like it. " She smiled, returning her gaze back to her own phone screen and you resumed your scrolling. Your favorite thing was the fact that you both could sit in silence and yet still know the other is enjoying every moment of whatever you both might be doing, even if it is separately.

It didn't matter if suddenly as you were scrolling, an audio blasted loudly because you'd laugh it off and Kanade would just smile. She enjoyed it and hoped you did too. She liked just being next to you, her head on your shoulder and you both sat comfortably together.

It wasn't long after you showed her another video of cats that she put down her phone and started watching yours. " Hey... Go back I wanted to see what would happen on that. " And you'd scroll back up and watch it with her. That was until you only heard her breathing quietly as she slept on your shoulder. It had gotten late so you didn't blame her but you'd feel bad if you were to move her! You both end up sleeping there until morning where she feels a bit guilty for falling asleep like that on you.

please do not repost any of my work without my permission, thank you for reading.

[glamlet69]

September Prompts Day 1

Hello! This is a based on the prompt "Coffee smell" from this wonderful post! I'm more or less writing these to warm myself up for Whumptober. This is a little thing about how Castiel likes the smell of coffee :)

Castiel loved the smell of coffee. He had never told anyone that before, not even Sam and Dean, but it was true. 

There was just something about it. The way it filled up whole rooms and enveloped them in its warm embrace. The way that it instantly put someone in a good mood when it was tasted. Of course, Castiel knew that it was technically considered a drug, and it was highly addictive, but it also didn’t seem to have any effects that were too harmful, other than the fact that if Sam drank too much he got jittery.

He had started to like it when he was human, working in the gas station. There were many things about that job that he truly loved. Talking to people, cleaning the machines, stocking the shelves. Making sure everything was in its proper place so that customers could pick up what they wanted without searching for it. He loved talking to the customers too. Humans had always fascinated Cas, and it gave him an excuse to learn their individual stories, and in turn learn how to be a little more human himself.

Old truckers would roll through at three in the morning and sigh in relief at the smell of coffee Cas had just refreshed in anticipation for them. They would fill up their travel mug, grab a bag of jerky or a muffin and make pleasant conversation with Cas while he rang them up. 

Sometimes he got mean customers, but Cas figured it was just because they hadn’t gotten their coffee yet. 

Ever since Sam and Dean had moved into the bunker, there was coffee made every morning. Sam would make it first, since he would wake up several hours before Dean. He would come into the industrial kitchen, completely dressed and ready for the day. He was never in any hurry. He would greet Cas (who had more or less claimed the kitchen as his place while the boys were sleeping) and ask if he wanted any. 

Cas would usually decline. As much as he loved the smell, he couldn’t really taste much of anything. He had once described food tasting like molecules to the boys, and it was still true. Only now it was worse because he knew what it had tasted like to them. 

It had taken him several weeks to get used to the bitter taste of coffee. But because he liked the smell so much, and because other people seemed to enjoy it so immensely, he kept trying it until one day he loved the taste of it. For the rest of his time working at the gas station it had been added to his routine to have a cup in the first hour of his shift while he turned everything on.

Sometimes, when he was feeling extra nostalgic, he would take Sam up on the offer. It tasted like ash every time, but if he basked in the smell enough, and thought hard enough about it, it almost tasted good again.

Dean would stumble in a few hours later, dead to the world. Sam would let him make his own pot because he would usually finish one himself, or put it in the fridge for iced coffee later. 

Sam had actually introduced Cas to iced coffee, which at the time had very much confused the angel.

Once Dean took his first sip, he was alive again. Unlike his brother, he would never offer any to Cas. Maybe it was because he always turned him down. Maybe it was because he remembered what it tasted like to Cas. Either way, Cas didn’t mind. 

Then they would all sit at the little table, Sam with his laptop and his fourth cup of coffee, Dean with his fresher, hotter cup and a newspaper, and Cas with nothing, sitting quietly.

Dean would often look across at Cas and ask him how his night had been, and Cas would respond with something along the lines of, “It was fine,” and they would fall back into comfortable silence again. 

It was those quiet moments, sitting around the little metal table, the smell of coffee wafting from Dean’s fresh cup, that Cas felt truly at ease. These moments were relatively rare, but they played out the same way every time. He wondered if Sam and Dean cherished these moments as much as he did, or if this was just another moment in time. The idle points between danger.

“What are you thinking, Cas?” Dean asked in one of these quiet moments, lowering his paper briefly and looking at him over it. Sam ignored them. He tended to get in a zone when researching cases.

“I like the smell of coffee.” Cas said simply, gazing back at Dean, who was holding a steaming mug of it in his hands.

“Do you want some? You know, just to hold? Or smell? Or whatever?” Dean asked. 

This was new. But it was welcome.

“Okay.” Cas said with a small smile.

[kny-agere]

Sorry! I ended up not seeing the rules, I'm really sorry about that :(

Could you then just do Little Giyuu and Caregiver Shinobu? It's a shame I didn't read the rules before, it might be the same scenario as I wrote before, but you can change it if you don't feel comfortable!

I already did a request similar to this (you can read it here) so I changed the plot idea a bit. I hope that’s ok!! Still a hurt Tomioka but Shinobu already knows he regresses.

★彡☆彡★彡

It was a quiet day at the Butterfly Mansion which of course meant something had to go wrong. Other than a few broken bones and side effects from blood arts they hadn’t had to deal with any major injuries until Tomioka came into the building with half his ribs broken and a dozen smaller cuts scattered over his chest.

At first he was too focused on his breathing while Shinobu was busy wiping away blood and preparing medicine for either to exchange a proper greeting. She got lost in the motions of wrapping his injuries and wiping ointment over the wounds. When he was laid down on a cot she switched to stitching up the largest of his cuts. None of the gashes are life threatening but a few are long and deep enough that he had lost a bit of blood. The younger girls were quick to help out, bringing in fluids and sweets to replenish him.

Unfortunately with the internal injuries there’s much else she can do other than get him comfortable. She handed him some painkillers and offered to prepare a stronger concoction if it was deemed necessary. Kocho also propped him up carefully and placed an icepack over his abdomen. It was early in the morning, or maybe late at night, so the minute he was stable the woman mumbled a tired goodbye and stepped out of the door. They had still only exchanged a handful of words, but Tomioka needed the sleep too and they’d have plenty of time to chat while he spent the next month or so healing. Aoi would be able to handle things for a few hours and Shinobu desperately needed sleep. She was at the point where each blink was lasting longer and longer. With less patients she had immersed herself in research instead, which often kept her up later than medical work did. Tomioka hadn’t asked for her to stay (he was too focused on the throbbing pain radiating from his chest) so she took it as an opportunity to find time for herself.

Shinobu didn’t even bother to get changed first. She simply let her hair out of its tight updo and fell into her bed. The mattress was maybe the softest thing she’d ever felt and in a quick few minutes she was asleep.

—-

Though Shinobu only got a few extra hours of rest she feels refreshed by the time it’s actually morning. The woman takes a moment to change her clothes and wash her hair so she can start the day fully refreshed. None of the younger girls have come to grab her which means things outside must be going smoothly. She takes that knowledge as a reason to wake slowly as she attempts to rid the bags under her eyes for the time being.

Once she’s more presentable she sets off first to Giyuu’s room. His condition won’t have changed much but now she can give her coworker a more proper greeting. (Though he should be used to a bit of rudeness from the woman by now.) Along the way she grabs breakfast for herself to enjoy alongside Tomioka.

Shinobu announces herself with a gentle knock and though she hears no acknowledgement enters the room. She wouldn’t be surprised to see the older hashira asleep or just a bit dazed from the combination of adrenaline and painkillers.

He seems to be awake though. It’s hard to tell from his position as Tomioka has attempted to curl onto his side (mostly unsuccessfully, only his face truly faces away from her) but his back and shoulders twitch with little motions that she’s grown to know.

“It’s too late to hide your injuries Tomioka-san I already know you made a fool of yourself last night.” She’s not cruel enough to poke his tender sides so instead she jams a finger into the back of his neck. When she’s not even greeted with a flat look the woman frowns. “Hey did someone put something in your medicine?” She leans over to poke his cheek and touches the tears on his face.

“Oh baby what’s wrong?” Shinobu pulls the man to face her. The shadows under his eyes seem worse than usual and there are clear tear tracks under his eyes.

Giyuu just grunts and Kocho knows she’ll have to play a guessing game. Taking a moment to pepper kisses across his face she thinks back to their meeting. “Was I too rough with you last night?” He shakes his head no. “Is the pain too much? Do you want some alone time?” Both are no’s.

“Did I leave too early yesterday?” Tomioka finally nods affirmatively and relaxes into Shinobu’s arms. He can’t quite gather the words to express himself but the woman is quick to soothe him anyways. “I’m sorry baby we can hang out now ok? That must’ve been hard getting hurt and then being left alone.” She rubs gentle fingers over his back. With Tomioka hurt she can’t properly cradle him but she gets as close as possible. “We’ll cuddle and play lots today.” The cooing and reassurance slowly dries Giyuu’s tears until he’s falling asleep again.

[ghulehsoleil]

Safe Space.

Papa Primo bonds with Soleil and learns something very important about her.

Ever since Papa Primo took Soleil into the ministry, they've had a very close bond. She knew it from the very first moment she met him. With his kind eyes, soft voice, and the gentle touch of his hand, she just knew that he was someone she could trust. For the first few weeks, Soleil stuck to him like glue. She was anxious to be away from the one person she found comfort in, but he happily accepted her company. Every morning, he'd start his day in the garden with a nice cup of hot tea and enjoy the outdoors. He'd invited her to his morning rituals, and she eagerly looked forward to spending all the extra time with him. Primo would always make the most delicious teas, telling her all about each one and its special ingredients, which she'd listen to eagerly. She soaked up all the information he would give to her. Whether it be tea talk or botany, she soaked it all up like a sponge.

With her anxiety and the fact that she'd get over stimulated very easily. The garden became her favorite place to be. He'd take her through the greenhouses, show her each plant or flower, and tell her all about them, identifying features and fun facts about each one. She picked up everything he taught her very easily, and after a few weeks' time, he had asked her to be his permanent help in the garden. Soleil was utterly delighted! She gave him the biggest hugs of thanks. Her hugs always warmed his heart, and her enthusiasm with him and all he had to teach and offer her was so refreshing to him that it truly strengthened his love and care for her.

The biggest thing they shared in common was the garden being both of their escapes, their safe spaces, and Soleil felt honored that he trusted and cared enough for her to be let into the place he cared for the most. She had made a secret vow to make sure she took care of this garden and all that was in it just as much as he loved and cared for her, and it showed. Primo watched before his very eyes how bright and flourished she had made the flowers in his garden, and it filled him with pride.

Unfortunately, as many good days as there are, the bad days do come. When Soleil becomes too overstimulated, overwhelmed, anxious, or a mix of all three; the first place she runs to is the quiet sanctity of the garden. Most of those times, primo is already there, from juat sitting and enjoying the space, or tending to the flowers and vegetables. Any time he hears her soft cries and rushed breathing, he drops anything he's doing to immediately comfort her. In his world, she comes first. It's become routine to take her hand and gently lead her to sit under the weeping willow tree, cradling her into his arms. No matter what, Soleil will always curl herself up against his left side. If she's on the other side, she will switch immediately and burrow her head into his chest. With primos' soft voice and his embrace, her muscles relax, and she melts into his body. Her small, delicate hand presses against his stomach as he guides her breaths in and out. Feeling him breathe always helps her regulate her own breathing. Once she regulates her breaths, the trembling comes to an end, and her adrenaline spike comes back down; she begins to yawn. Always a good sign that she's regulating back to her normal self.

Primo takes notice of every single small detail of her anxiety attacks, her overstimulation, and her slow fall back down to normal. Every facial expression, the tones of her voice, specific body or tail movements; nothing escapes his eyes. He learns to read her like a book, sometimes even knowing she's not okay before she does.

After being around her for quite some time, Primo begins to notice a pattern in some of the things soleil tends to do. One of the first things that tended to make him curious was that if she was hugged to the wrong side of him, she'd always switch sides. He takes note that it's the left side she likes and makes sure in the future to automatically hold her there. Another thing that catches his eye is that once she begins to settle down, the tip of her tail would lift and drop in some sort of rhythm. Out of curiosity, he studied it for a bit while rubbing her back as he held her close. Lift-drop, lift-drop, lift-drop. It piqued his interest. Raising an eyebrow of curiosity, he took two fingers and very slyly placed it against his neck to feel his pulse. Suddenly, all the pieces fell into place. As he felt his pulse push against his fingers and watched her tail lift and drop, a soft smile spread across his face as he placed his arm back around her once more and made a mental note and kept it in the back of his mind.

Days pass by, and things continue on as normal. Primo was in the garden in the morning, setting up morning tea when he heard slow little shuffled footsteps approach him and small voice call out "..p-papa?" Placing down the teapot, he looks up to greet Soleil with a smile, but his emotion immediately shifts when he sees her. She looked as if she had been crying, eyes puffy and red. "Oh, my sweet child.." His brows furrowed, swiftly walking from behind the table to embrace her. As soon as he wraps his arms around her, she breaks, tears streaming down her cheeks as her body heaves against him. Soleil gasps for air, hyperventilating and trembling in Papa primos arms. He separates from her for a moment, his fingers lifting her chin up to look into her eyes. Using the tip of the sleeve of his chasuble wrapped in his hand, he tenderly wiped her tears. "It's okay, little one. Papa is here now, come..sit with me, yes?" His voice was low and soft as to not overstimulate her or upset her more. He reaches out his hand, her tiny, delicate hand timidly wrapping around his, feeling security and safety in his much larger, warm hand. "Come now, child..let Papa comfort you.." She nods her head and follows him to her safe space; right under the weeping willow tree.

Primo parts it's long hanging branches and leaves, and the two of them step into a whole new world. The sun glowing from behind the leaves gave the space underneath the tree a warm, soft glow straight out of a fairytale. Primo sits himself down, leaning against the big sturdy trunk of the mythical looking tree and extending a hand out to her with a soft smile pulling at his lips. In that moment, as the warm sun made his body glow with warmth, she knew she was safe. She takes his hand, kneeling down and curling up as close as she could to him, sniffles and whimpers escaping her as she rested her head against his shoulder and hugged him tightly. But Papa knew something was off. Taking it in his own hands to correct it, he gently caresses the side of her head, guiding it dlowly towards his chest. The ghoulettes cheeks flush a hot red, eyes widening as he stops right over his heart. She tries to move back but he's got a secure gentle grip on her. "P-Papa.." Soleil manages to squeak out a rebuttle. "Papa wh-what are you d-doing? I..p-papa..papa I-!" Papa cuts her off, hugging her tighter, never letting her head go. "Shhhh...Hush now my little one..relax..with all your protesting you won't be able to hear my heart beating for you..♡"

And with those words, Soleil freezes. The sound of his steady, strong heartbeat flooding into her ear. With each deep beat it makes, the muscle pushes up against the side of her head, almost like it's reaching to kiss the side of her head. Tears begin to prick at her eyes, a shaky inhale as her hand rests next to her head to feel his heart out of her own curiosity. "P-Papa..h-how did you.." She whispers, choked up as hot tears stream down her cheeks. Primo chuckled softly, kissing the top of her head while giving her another reassuring squeeze. "My sweet Soleil, it's your papas job to learn, to know exactly what you need and how he should take care of you..is it not? You are my daughter, my child, and Papa will do everything in his power to care for his daughter the best he can!" He says with a tender, caring tone in his voice as one of his hands rubs up and down her back. In his periferal he notices the little ghoulettes tail begin to wag. Yet again he uses his chasuble to wipe her tears before hugging back onto her again. "No more tears now, my little dove. Here..place your hand on your papas tummy and breathe nice deep breaths with him, hmm?" With a smile, soleil nods in agreement, her hand traveling to his stomach and letting his breathing guide her own breaths. As she laid there in her papas embrace listening to the strong thumping of his heart and taking guided breaths, she began to feel sleepy and relaxed. A child-like, tiny yawn fills the air around them. As her eyelids begin to fall shut, primo watches his daughter with pride, knowing he gave her just what she needed to feel safe and loved. "Rest now, little dove..papa will be right here when you awaken.." Soleil takes one nice big deep breath and shuts her eyes, nuzzling herself further into his chest. There was a short stretch of silence before she speaks once more. "Papa?" Soleil softly whispers, just about to succumb to the rest she so desperately needed. "Yes my dear?" Primo answers as if talking to a small child. "..thank you..I love you, papa.." Primos heart swells with love and pride with those three little words. He leans in and whispers to her and only her. "Papa loves you too, my child, with every beat his heart makes..every single one.."

[ferriswrites]

October 2, 2023

As he got closer, the babbling of the crook became intensified—overshadowing the peaceful noise of birds’ harmonies. He liked the way water felt running across his fingertips— the wave of refreshing icy water. It embraced his palm like a serenade of dips and swirls. He could still sense the birds above— pin point them if he truly focused. If he followed the noise and craned his neck to tilt his ears in their direction he could almost imagine their placement up on that tree. He wondered what textures a bird would feel. Would their clawed feet balance them tenderly upon a branch, or scrape roughly with the kind of imprint needed for a fall’s impact? These things he did not know, but he felt wonder even when curiosities may never be satiated, for it meant he’d always continue to hunger for more— reach further into the depths of his musings. He supposed most would find the morning of a swampy creek like this incredibly uncomfortable. Or at least, call it a “lovely” ambiance and then go about their day, the scene having little meaning upon their life.

He remembers those mornings of early rise. Ones where he’d track to school, nothing but a backpack set upon his shoulders. This in of itself seemed a metaphor for the feeling a youth may have—trapped in their own gravitational atmosphere; a beautiful one even so. For even if those mornings gave him hands bitten by frosty winds and shivers from the dampness of the grass, he reveled in the sensation of his brisk pace. The crunch of the frosted over grass would leave imprints behind him, a morning birds call near, and the hum of a wintery sun clouded over the sky.

The sound of Canadian geese gave him nostalgia even with their pesky habits of leaving behind fields of bird dung in their wake.  If one was smart, they’d leave behind shoes lest they be ruined by the stain. 

In his middle school photography class, he recalls photographing a bee’s wings. The zoomed in shot made the ordinary creature appear as if a fairy hung in the sky, dancing its way to pollen. It still been in the 2010’s then. It felt remarkably unsettling how in just a few years he’d gotten accustomed to the 20’s enough for the 10’s to be foreign to him. The smell of lavender encased the centerpieces of his middle school campus— the many trees that lined the pathways. This one was tall enough to provide adequate shade even if in the spring not an outstanding worry. It was still a time in the season in which spring gave a refreshed sense of freedom from the underwhelming fatigue of a winter’s contempt. He could understand clearly why any such animal may wish to hibernate— to take a rest away from the chaos of life.

However, as much as he wished to understand the feeling, he didn’t want to seek it. He had a life to live and each season gave meaning to the time he navigated it. He loved that kind of change, that is, apart from the summer in which his childhood town experienced intense dry heat. The weather there had sparked discontent and fear of fires and that fear was not unfounded. He was only ever lucky to not be one hit by more than an intense smoke some summer days. The first peculiar red moon felt like an eclipsed twilight shining itself down on to the atmosphere. It was as if he’d walked into an apocalyptic world when he woke up to it. These memories just made him feel far more appreciative of where he was now and how far he’d come. He smiles at the sun. It shines back at him, sending a breeze in greeting and the clouds just as always pass him by in their own dance. It wasn’t a song heard but it was a sight he too was entranced by. Earth just as in his youth would continue it’s twirls, spinning on it’s axis each and every day so that he could live. It was a world unlike any other, but also the only he’d ever known and that’s why it was so incredibly special. Another day. Another second. Another year. He was still here.

[agirlunderarock]

I'm doing this RIGHT NOW WHILE I'M ON MY COMPUTER BECAUSE OTHERWISE I'M NEVER GOING TO DO IT! this is me also apologizing if you've ever tagged me in something and I didn't respond, its because I hate getting on tumblr form my computer. I'm sorry I will do it eventually.

So I have a couple of fics posted um I don't know much to post but I'll give a run down too I guess

Of Agony and Hope

Sith!Obi-Wan AU that takes place 5 five years after revenge of the sith. The first chapter is told from the pov of his former lover Sas Vom (shapeshifter OC) as she spies on Imperial intelligence. Then it goes to Obi-Wan's pov in rots, and back and forth as the story goes on. So lovers to enemies to lovers? This one is still a work in progress I am currently writing chapter 4.

Sas took a deep inhale. Slow exhale. She let her breathing gradually return to its normal cadence. There was nothing to worry about. Green eyes as vibrant as her natural skin stared back at Sas in the mirror. Black slicked back hair contrasted against the unnaturally pale skin she hid behind. She could blame it on the bright lights of the refresher she stood in, the light’s glare threatened to make her seem whiter than the snow she once trekked through on Pantora's moons. For a moment she wondered if she focused hard enough, if she could make herself translucent. She had never tried before, but if there was any moment to try, now seemed like the best time to do so. It wouldn’t help, even if she could. The face of Rola Brisa would have to be enough for the time being. The Director for Special Operations, her new supervisor, would likely sense her the moment she walked in the door. There was no way around that. 

Let Her Sleep

Pre relationship Sas and Obi-Wan are supposed to be going over some field reports before a war meeting later in the afternoon. Sas insists on doing them very early in the morning. They don't have to be done that early in the morning.

Resisting the urge to rub the sleep from his eyes was proving to be easier said than done to the exhausted Jedi General standing at the little caff maker. Yes Obi-Wan knew he could run down to the dining halls to grab a cup that was already made, but that require actually having to walk across the temple and back to this little meeting room. Lucky for him, this wasn't a major council meeting  or a briefing he was up early for. Actually, he had told the person who planned this report review session that it could be pushed back in the day, that they didn’t need to be up so early.  Obi-Wan slowly raked his fingers through his hair, combing out the last bit of sleep from his body in the process. Nearly a year into the war and Sas still insisted on doing these reviews early in the morning. Truly he didn't mind it, and she was almost always on time, but it was a tedious task to wake up to. Yes, it gave him more time in the day to get to the plethora of other tasks that popped up throughout the day, but he couldn’t help but wonder if there was a more opportune time to do this, a time when it was less likely his review partner wouldn’t fall asleep. Of course this wasn't just a year into the war, this was a year working with Sas, and by now Obi-Wan had learned that she wasn't much of an early bird, but he also knew she had her reasons for constantly being up so late into the night.

Remedy

This takes place when Obi-Wan comes back from the Zygerrian prison camps. Just some good hurt comfort

Obi-Wan stared up into the ceiling of his recovery room in the med bay. Soft light from the hallway kept the room just bright enough to see clear across the room to the door of the refresher and the mirror sink in the corner. The soft beeps of monitors in the other rooms was steady though not as reassuring as he had thought they would be. He tried to close his eyes again but almost instantly opened them again. The jedi thought he would have felt relieved. He had every reason to be happy. He was alive. Anakin, Ahsoka and Rex survived Zygrryian prison camp with him. Yet the thought of the mission made his chest tighten with uncertainty. The Torgruta villagers were safe. They had managed to rescue hundreds of lives, and just as many were still recovering in this med wing. Master Plo and his men had arrived just in time. 

and now I'm realizing I don't have to give little summaries so I won't!

Jedi General

For once in the thirty-five years Obi-Wan had lived in the jedi temple, the Coruscant traffic wasn’t the loudest thing in the temple. Within the last few days the temple had been buzzing with the news from Geonosis. Fallen jedi were brought in and prepared to be laid to rest each day. He wondered how much of his fallen family  had to stay behind in  the red dust  of the desert  planet. He hoped  he wouldn’t be attending more funerals for fallen jedi soon. The silence that engulfed each ceremony felt too heavy and brought with it memories of the first one  he had attended ten years ago. 

It Takes Some Getting Used To

Obi-Wan had witnessed many things over the course of the war, certainly more than he thought he would in a single lifetime. Naturally, he had grown up hearing stories from other jedi of their experiences, many of them seeming larger than life at the time, but given his current experiences, they all seemed rather mundane. Of course that was probably the wrong word, but how many mission briefings started off with holo messages from sith assassins one presumed they had killed nearly twelve years earlier. Then again that sort of thing isn’t exactly taught in padawan history lessons if it did happen.

The Shop Keeper

This one is readers insert

It seemed like you were always sweeping sand off your counter and floors. No matter how many times you dragged that old brittle broom across the floor, you could still hear the crunch of the grains under your boots. Of course it was something you were supposed to be used to, growing up on the oversized grain of sand meant that it was part of your daily life. Somehow though you didn’t remember ever sweeping this much when you were a child. You weren’t sure that your parents did either, though the more you thought about it, the more you wondered if the endless sweeping you followed them into is what made their old bones brittle so quickly. You pushed the thought away and instead chose to remind yourself that you were in charge of a little feed store, not an oasis. Dirt and sand and powder were to be expected on your floors and counters. It was a sign that business was good and would continue to be good.

Broken Things

As someone who grew up and lived in the wastelands of Zolan, Sas thought she would have been adjusted, or at least able to adjust, to the twin suns beating down on her back as she trudged over sand with a large pack of supplies over her shoulder. She had done it plenty of times on Zolan when she and her sister had run out of fuel, and the oxygen had even been lower there than it was on Tatooine, but she was still drenched in sweat and breathing heavily as the sand threatened to seep through her head scarf. The Clone Wars had clearly taken a toll on the shapeshifter and the jedi she followed into the desert. 

Let Him Sleep

   “Sas, have you seen Obi-Wan?” the small blue holo bust of Anakin asked the moment the she picked up the call. “We were supposed to do some training together today, because Ahsoka here doesn’t believe I can beat the old man in a duel.”

    The green woman just blinked as she tried to process the information she was bombarded with. Staring and typing on a holo pad the last few hours did nothing for her audio comprehension. She was just about to answer when the little holo image of the young jedi knight flickered as Ahsoka burst into the frame.

    “I’m just saying- I don’t think he taught you everything!”

    “He taught me more than he taught you-”

    “Yeah but I’ve had lessons with both of you, so naturally I should know the most.”

    Between their bickering Sas had set her comm device on the table and leaned her head on her hand. “So he was supposed to meet you both in the training facilities-” she interrupted with a laugh, causing both figures to turn to her. She was never going to get a word in if the master and apprentice kept talking over each other. “That doesn’t explain why you’re calling me of all people. Isn’t there like some kind of Master schedule that says what most of the council members are doing for the day?”

Febuwhump Prompts Chronic Pain and Scars

   “Explain again…how this…is fair?” Sas panted as she held up her phrik sword despite the burning in her muscles. She never used to feel this tired running drills, or while training in general. It had been months since the incident on Umbara, and yet she felt like she had to exert so much effort just to do basic drills. Sweat ran down the side of her face, and she mentally gave herself a pat on the back for not painting on her tattoos that day. She hefted the sword in front of herself, prepared to take defensive measures against the jedi in front of her.

    “My dear, you wanted to be better prepared to fight opponents with lightsabers, the only way to do that is to prepare with the real one.” Though Obi-Wan had a small grin peeking out from beneath his beard, Sas could tell he was holding back out of concern. She could see it in the small crease between his brows. 

Febuwhump Prompt I Dreampt You were alive

     Hera leaned against the back of her captain’s chair as she looked through the front window of her ship. Stars and systems floated gently by as they shuttled slowly along after wrapping up a supply run for Chopper Base. That hadn’t been the most difficult part of the mission though. After everything they had been through that day, the most difficult part was putting baby Jacen to sleep. He had been fine the whole trip. He had bounced and giggled happily in his harness on Kanan’s chest, despite some of the close calls they had with the imperials. Yet the moment they got back safely on the Ghost, Jacen immediately started crying. 

Febuwhump Prompt "Let me See"

Obi-Wan helped Anakin to his feet with his good arm. Between his own wounded leg, and his padawan now missing part of his arm, he figured the two of them could hobble to the gun ship to get medical help. If he were honest, Obi-Wan wasn’t sure how to feel. His padawan was just maimed by Count Dooku, he himself had been burned and beaten before his padawan- He supposed it was just an act of the Force that Yoda appeared to confront him in time. Stilit wasn’t hard to say which was bothering him more; the burning failure that he was unable to step in to defend and save his padawan from losing his hand, more so than the actual burns he received on his arms and legs. 

    Even as Padmé rushed over to Anakin, Obi-Wan felt the guilt wash over him. He should have been able to prevent that. It should have been him. He should have done more–

That took so much longer than I expected oh my goodness, but here are some no pressure tags! @pickleprickle @eloquentmoon @stardustbee @saradika and anyone else who would like to join

Creator Self-Promotion

Rules: post the first lines of your last 10 fics you posted. If you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics.

"But K, I don't write but I still create can I still play?"

Post your last 10 pieces and give us a play by play. What was the inspiration? Any fun facts you can share with us?

Anyway let's get on with it

1. Fishing for Compliments - Merman!Crosshair x F!Reader

A sigh passed the young woman’s lips as the sun began to disappear beneath the waves. The waves rocked her quaint vessel as if it were a mother soothing her child. Her meal as well as a plate of identical food remained untouched as she kept her gaze to the depths. Every ripple of its surface a reminder of the mounting minutes that her company kept her waiting.

2. Drop Me a Line - Wrecker x F!Reader

The young woman stifled a yawn as she continued to work the mass of dough to her standards to be plopped into pans to bake. She continued working the dough sparing glances to the chrono on the wall as the sky outside began to lighten with the sunrise. Her pulse spiked when the chrono was checked again. She abandoned the lump of dough as she snatched up a pastry box. The bell chiming as the door opened and closed.

3. Budding Romance - Rex x F!Reader

“And you’re sure you’ll have them there.”

“A bit of faith would be nice, Anakin.”

4. Skin in the Game - Wrecker x OC (Rina) (18+ Please view responsibly)

Wrecker was on the hunt. Thankfully the Marauder held only a few spaces to hide away as he searched the ship. His target tucked away by the sensors. Vibroblade twirling between his fingers while his idle gaze stared at the screen. The demolitions expert took a breath, hoping to find answers.

5. Hair Support - Tup x Reader

The days of the Clone Wars tended to drag on in between assignments. Thankfully, the Republic saw it fit to dispatch your research team with a clone legion escort to ensure the lush jungle planet would not eat you and your colleagues alive. It was in the sweltering heat of the afternoon that one of your study binges was interrupted. You shook your head knowing who dared tread into your tent.

6. Interrogations - Echo x F!Reader (18+ Please view responsibly)

The former arc trooper sighed. Another fruitless attempt at slipping free of his bonds. The chair he was bound to chilled any amount of exposed skin. The room kept dark to prevent him from gathering his bearings. He bided his time, waiting for the tell-tale clicking of his keeper. It was a whisper at first but grew louder as the automatic doors parted.

7. Personal Tastes - Hunter x F!Reader

Strands of meat sizzled and spat as she flipped the tangled mass. Her work distracting from the pair of eyes watching you from the doorway. Her culinary tasks from the staccato chops of a knife to peppers to the accented clink of a mortar and pestle offered a calming tune.

8. Just This Once, Everyone Lives - Rex x Reader

Your bottom lip remained captured between your teeth as the speeder came to a stop. The building looming over the city streets twinkled in the night. A beacon for personnel to gather while dressed to the nines. A hand curled around yours, smoothing over your knuckles.

9. Keep Away - UniversityAU Wrecker x Reader

You filed out with your fellow undergrads as your last class for the afternoon let out. the professor's voice offering mention of the end of the first sprint. You traversed amongst the student body's current before veering off to a corridor. The current loosening its grasp the closer you ventured toward the sanctuary of paper and ink.

10. Nothing Fight - Crosshair x F!Reader

It could be easy to say Clone Force 99 had a culture separate from the sea of clones. Clone medics would be reassigned in the blink of an eye and nat born medics often assigned whoever pissed off the higher ups. This led to your current long term assignment. Having a medic on board being the main reason one of your patients was released to his squad early pending observations.

NPT - @photogirl894 @rain-on-kamino @tecker @techs-stitches @littlemissmanga @annwayne @fakegingerrights @merkitty49 @moodymisty @starrylothcat

Wanna promote your work here too? Do it!

[your-daily-biaswrecking]

hii :)

could you do a drabble where the reader and yoongi were in an arranged marriage for a while. She thought that Yoongi cheated on her so she asked for a divorce. Yoongi as a cold husband pleaseee !! So Yoongi gives her a rough + angry sex ?? to prove he's not cheating? hehehhe

love all your writings btw, you have so much ideas to be posting lots in a day !!! :)

thank youu !

damn this turned out bigger than normal cuz-- plot... and i didn't want to write a pt2 so i'm just putting it under the cut and let's just still pretend it's a "drabble"

You didn’t remember much from that night. Just some general feelings, like how annoyed and lonely you were. How you needed your husband but he wasn’t there. When you woke up the next morning, head throbbing from your hangover, Yoongi was missing from your shared bed. And even though you didn’t want to assume things, when you noticed multiple hickeys on his neck later that day, you had no choice but to think of the only logical conclusion: your husband was cheating on you.

It hurt. Sure, your marriage had been arranged, so perhaps he didn’t really want to be with you. But somewhere in the process of it all, you had fallen for him. He was always serious and keeping his guard up around you, but there were moments that you thought deep down he was actually a nice guy. And that he cared for you. I guess you were wrong. Who would ever do such a thing to someone they care about even the slightest?

At first, you thought you could put it past you. This was more of a contract than a marriage anyway, from the beginning. But it hurt you every time you saw him, every time he did a tiny, little nice thing for you, like cooking you breakfast or texting you to let you know he would be home late. As if you two were actually a couple. It hurt you so much you needed to put an end to it.

“I want a divorce.” You didn’t wait for the right time or something like that, just blurted it out one evening right after you had gotten done eating in mostly silence.

Yoongi was still in control over his facial expressions, yet barely. A tiny frown, a tiny widening of his eyes gave his shock away. “What? Why?”

You took a deep breath, looking away to be able to keep your composure; looking at him made your knees too weak. “I agreed on this marriage. I agreed to try and make it work even though I knew it would be hard,” you explained. “But I will not tolerate cheating. I want a divorce.”

“Cheating?” His voice was low, truly confused. “What are you talking about?”

“I know, Yoongi. You don’t need to pretend.”

“What? I never-”

“I saw the hickeys you had all over you last Sunday.” The sentence shut him up, blank face taking its place over his shocked expression and you couldn’t read him. You gulped. “Or are you gonna claim those were mosquito bites?”

And then Yoongi laughed. Sound so contrasting to his usual attitude, sending chills down your spine. It didn’t last long, however, face serious again as he stared at you intensely. “Are you serious right now?” he barked, and you were starting to feel a bit scared. He took a step towards you. “You really don’t know who gave me those hickeys?”

You frowned, taken aback by his answer. “How would I- What does it matter?”

Yoongi chuckled again, reaching you across the kitchen until he was just a breath away. Looking down at you with dark eyes. “You were so fucking wasted that night, I guess I need to refresh your memory,” he whispered. And before you could even react, he lifted you up, legs straddling his waist as you yelped, arms snaking around his shoulders awkwardly as you were trying not to fall while he carried you to your bedroom.

“Yoon-”

“See?” he said, dropping you on the bed sideways. And his body loomed over yours. “This is where you laid while you were begging me to fuck you dumb. Do you not remember?” You gasped at his words, squirming in order to escape. But his hands were on your waist, pinning you down, and suddenly you knew the feeling wasn’t unfamiliar. This had happened before. “Now what?” Yoongi growled into your ear. “You want to divorce me because you were sucking my neck and I was too weak to pull you away too fast? I did. It was so fucking hard but I pulled away and left because... I told you many times that if this was gonna happen, it should happen the right way. Not when you are black-out drunk. But you were crying and telling me how badly you wanted me. I had to jerk off alone because of how hard you got me with your begging. Was that all the alcohol talking? You didn’t even look at me the next morning.”

You had never heard him talk so much. And your face was burning as that night got clearer in your memories. As the realization that Yoongi wanted you as much as you wanted him settled in. “Yoongs, I-”

“No, shh…” He placed a finger over your lips. “You really have the audacity to think I’m cheating on you when all I’ve been doing is falling for you? Trying to turn this marriage into something actually nice? I’ve been trying to fuck you for so long, you really think I give a shit about fucking anyone else?”

The way his words affected you was surely clear to him as well. Your legs tried to close, yet only resulted in caging him against your hip harder, pushing him down until you could feel his hard dick through his pants. “I- I didn’t know, I…”

Yoongi ground down on you harder, breath unsteady and hot over your lips. “Tell me now, once and for all,” he whispered while his hands started roaming over your body, not even touching you anywhere specifically yet making you gasped with every graze. Distance between you so short it was intoxicating your brain. “Tell me if you want me to stop right now, and I won’t bother you again. Otherwise, I will not stop even if you’re begging me later.” His voice was so coarse you could tell his brain was rotten with want as well. Staring at your lips, waiting for the green light to devour them, probably barely registering anything else.

“Yoongi,” you whined. “Need you… Don’t stop…”

His mouth on yours was such a relief, lips and tongue soft as they played against yours. It didn’t last long before he was groaning, backing off to pull your shirt over your head aggressively, discarding his as well, and grabbing you by the waist to push you further up the bed. His skin was hot on yours, his mouth instantly back on your neck, giving you the treatment you had given him that forgotten night. And his roaming hands found your pants to pull them down while you were distracted. One slipping in your underwear to steal a touch of your center.

“Fuck,” he choked. And then he grabbed a fistful of your hair to turn your head to look at him. “What a nice, wet pussy. And you really thought I’d wanna fuck anyone else’s?” He looked mad when he pulled your clothes completely off you, getting naked as well. Hand wrapped around his thick member, allowing you only one glance before he was over you again, tip brushing against your entrance. “Let me show you, baby,” he rasped, and you were mewling under him. “This pretty pussy is mine, this is the one I want.”

“Yoon…” Your whine was interrupted when he pushed into you, not giving you any room to get used to his dick. His lips were on yours again, hand on your hair pulling it harshly as he started thrusting into you right away. You felt euphoric, your husband finally fucking you hard after all this time of suffering the sexual tension alone. And your fingers scratched his back while moans escaped into his bruising kiss.

Yoongi gave you a few very deep thrusts, hitting your cervix and making you cry before he pulled away again. “Feel that, baby?” he groaned. “Feel how well I’m fucking you- that’ll shut you up, won’t it?” He pulled out, grabbing your hips and flipping you around with no warning. He grabbed you by the ankles to drag you closer to him, and then slapped your ass hard.

“Ah, Yoongi!” You raised your ass higher, on your knees while your face was buried in the sheets.

“That’s right, baby,” he said in a low voice. And he spanked you again. “Scream my name.” Another spank, softer than the others, while he stroked and kneaded your ass. “Scream your husband's name to let everyone know who’s fucking you so hard.” And he buried his cock deep inside you again. “Scream my name to remind yourself that you have me, baby.”

You were a panting mess. Your orgasm building inside you so wildly that you felt like you were about to combust instead of cum. And you dared sneak a hand down to rub your clit while you were moaning his name like a prayer. “Oh, Yoongi, please… Fuck, please…”

He smacked your hand away when he noticed, growling and grabbing your hair to pull it until your back was arched, mouth coming right next to your ear to whisper dangerously. “If you’re gonna cum, you’ll cum because of my cock inside you. Got it?”

You were nodding immediately. Although you were probably gonna cum because of his deep voice and harsh dirty words. “I’m gonna…”

“Good girl,” he growled, diving his teeth in the side of your neck. And it was what did it for you, shouting out while your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your vision turned black, pussy pulsing frantically around him.

“Shit,” he gasped, hips faltering. Then he let go of your hair only to grab your neck from the front, still pulling you back to have his face buried in your nape. “Gonna let me paint those pussy walls white with my cum, baby?” And you were moaning again at that, feeling like you were gonna cum again before you even came down from your previous high. Yoongi smacked your ass abruptly, making you yelp and give him the permission he needed. And he hummed, satisfied, his hips finding the rhythm he needed to finish. “My lovely wife,” he whispered sweetly even though his actions were anything but that. “Don’t worry, I’ll fuck you good all the time. Just so you know I don’t even have the fucking time to be seeing anyone else.” And then he spilled into you for the very first time.

Masterlist

[cafedanslanuit]

chapter guide | prev. chapter | next chapter

✖   —   summary:  porco wasn't surprised when you called him at three in the morning because you were too drunk to drive back to your place. he would always be there when you needed, both as your best friend and the guy who was completely head over heels for you. and both of them were sure zeke jaeger was cheating on you.

✖   —   pairing: porco/reader & zeke/reader

✖   —   tags/warnings: so far it’s sfw but rating will change in future chapters, college au, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, unrequited love, cheating, toxic relationships, friends to lovers

chapter one: save your love

“Thanks for picking me up, Pock. You didn’t have to.”

“Tch. Of course I did,” Porco replied, putting his arm on the back of your seat on his car and reversing, getting out of the bar’s parking lot. You took your time observing him and noticed the bags under his eyes. You shouldn’t have been surprised. What were you expecting when you called him at 3 am asking him to pick you up from the bar because you were too drunk to drive home?

Porco rested his arm on the open window of his car, his other hand handling the wheel with ease. There were very few cars on the highway and the chilly air refreshed your body just right, making the ride home a lot more comfortable than you pictured. You closed your eyes, basking in the feeling of safeness you always felt whenever your best friend was around, plus the sweet dizziness on your head from the vodka and Porco’s cologne.

“What did the fucker do this time?”

It didn’t last long.

“He didn’t do a thing.”

Porco scoffed. “Yeah, right. Are you really going to pretend you didn’t end up in that bar because of what Zeke’s ‘friend’ just posted on her Instagram?”

“Porco, please.”

“What was the caption again? Oh, right. ‘Movie night’, devil face emoji, fire emoji,” he recalled with a snicker, his eyes fixated on the road. “She even tagged him on it, her legs resting on his lap and shit. Was it the same girl he took to the cat shelter for some ‘volunteer work’ last week or another?”

You didn’t answer. You knew Porco already knew who she was.

“She’s very pretty,” you mused. “It makes sense.”

“Please, have you looked at yourself?” Porco asked, taking a right turn.

Jokingly, you took the rearview mirror and angled it towards you. Your mascara was a little worn off and there were only traces of the red lipstick you had put on before heading to the bar. Your hair was messy as well and you look like you desperately needed a bottle of water.

“I look like shit,” you laughed, putting the mirror back to its original place.

“Shut the fuck up, you look good.”

“Pock, look at me. Whatever is going on here,” you said, gesturing at your face, “ain’t good. If you think so, your taste is really lacking.”

Porco chuckled, eliciting a soft smile from you.

“I like to think I have really good taste.”

“If we’re being serious, you have way too high standards,” you yawned, extending your arms and feeling some cracks on your back.

“How so?” he inquired, arching an eyebrow.

“You haven’t been in a relationship since I know you, which is what— a year?”

“And?”

“And I’m starting to think you’re afraid of commitment. Maybe you’re just afraid of a relationship,” you shrugged.

“Are you done, Freud?” he teased, sparing a quick glance at you before looking back at the road again.

“All I’m saying is you’ve had both beautiful girls and boys at your disposition and you have never even tried to date them. Well, no, my bad, you did take this one girl on a date. And what happened next?”

Porco chuckled. “Look, it’s not like that, we just didn’t click and—”

“You told her you were better off as friends and to this day I haven’t listened to a solid reason as to why you would drop such a pretty girl like her.”

“She just didn’t have what I was looking for,” he shrugged innocently.

“See what I mean? Unbelievable high standards. None of us is worthy of the mighty Porco Galliard, the lacrosse team captain who can fit seventeen marshmallows inside his mouth.”

Both of you broke in laughter, not caring about waking up someone from the houses alongside the road. You looked around and immediately recognized the neighbourhood, your laugh ceasing immediately. You patted Porco’s arm, trying to get his attention.

“Can you turn left at the next intersection?”

“We need to keep straight to get to your place.”

“I want to go to Zeke’s for a minute.”

Porco’s face twisted into a scowl. “Why would you want to go to him right now?”

“I— he told me he was watching movies by himself. I just want to check on him, we don’t even have to step off the car.”

“Hey,” he said sternly, catching your attention. “Don’t do this. You saw her Instagram post, you know what happened between those two. Are you really going to believe him after you just saw fucking evidence?”

“I know him,” you insisted. “He wouldn’t just flat out lie to me, not like that.”

“And the photo from tonight? How do you explain that?”

You took a deep breath, a sharp pain in your head making you close your eyes tightly.

“I don’t know,” you sighed. “Please, just— drive past his house. If his lights are out, then he must be sleeping after watching those movies by himself, just like he told me so.”

Porco scoffed.

“Porco, please,” you pleaded, squeezing his arm as you got closer and closer to the intersection. “Please.”

Rolling his eyes, Porco turned left as you asked him to and started driving to Zeke’s house, following your instructions. He didn’t try to come up with conversation again, instead, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance as he pulled up crossing the street, a couple of houses away from your target.

Your heart immediately relaxed when you looked at Zeke’s window: the lights were off. You let out a long, tired sigh, letting your forehead rest on the glove compartment of Porco’s car.

“I don’t understand you,” Porco sneered, resting his chin on his hand, his elbow pressed on the open window of his car. “Him having the lights off means nothing, he could—”

Porco turned to you as you sat back up, your eyes meeting his. He bit his tongue, silently cursing and looked at his wheel, setting both his hands on it.

“He could what?” you insisted.

“Nothing,” he quickly replied, passing a hand through his hair. “His lights are off. Can we go now?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you whispered, sitting back against his passenger seat and getting comfortable.

Right when Porco was reaching for his keys, a noise in the quiet neighbourhood startled you. Both of you raised their heads as a black car passed alongside them and parked in front of Zeke’s house. A tall, blonde girl exited the same house, accompanied by none other than your boyfriend. You recognized her as Yelena, who had begun appearing more and more frequently in his pictures at the same time he started posting less and less about you.

Zeke walked her to the car and you watched in horror as she pressed a kiss on the corner of his lips before getting in the car. He closed the door after her and patted the roof of the car twice before sending her off. Porco gripped the wheel tightly as Zeke stretched his arms and walked back home, dragging his feet without a care in the world.

Sighing, Porco turned to you, who were already dialling Zeke’s number.

“No, c’mon,” he said, trying to take your phone away but you swatted his hand away, putting a finger on top of your lips, asking for silence.

“Hey baby,” you greeted in your fake, cheery voice. Porco couldn’t believe after spending two years with you, Zeke couldn’t realize that when your voice got too high-pitched, it meant you were faking every word. “Yeah, I know it’s late. Sorry. Sorry. Yes, I just— I know. I know it’s too late to call.”

Porco could feel his blood boiling at every apology that came out of your mouth even after witnessing Yelena leaving his house not even five minutes ago.

“I just wanted to ask how you were doing? Were the movies fun?” you made a pause, your smile tight on your face. “Ah, I see. Wasn’t it boring to watch all by yourself?” you pressed and not even you could maintain your smile after hearing his response. “Mhm, I do know you prefer to watch movies alone. Anyway, it is quite late. Talk to you later, I love—”

You looked at the screen on your phone and noticed the call had already ended.

“Well, there’s that,” you mused to yourself before putting your phone back on your jeans.

Silently, Porco started his car again, driving away from the suburbs and heading to your place as he had intended in the first place. The comforting silence was now poisonous, his eyes flicking from the road every minute to check on you, who was looking outside the window with your eyes lost. your mind probably too full of thoughts that he couldn’t begin to understand.

It didn’t mean he didn’t want to, though.

He kept driving in silence until he reached your apartment, parking in his usual spot. He left the engine running, even if you knew he always waited until you entered the building to drive away. He unlocked the doors and let out a long sigh.

“Drink some water before getting to bed,” Porco reminded you, both his hands on the wheel.

You didn’t move a muscle, eyes lost on his glove compartment, the events of the night running around your head. Yelena’s Instagram photo. Zeke’s text telling you he was alone. Him kissing her goodnight at 2 am.

“Hey,” he called, startling you. “Are you okay?”

You opened your mouth but then closed it, not knowing where to start. You pursed your lips and tugged at your fingers in discomfort.

“Talk to me,” Porco insisted.

“Can you stay tonight?” you asked in a small voice. “Annie is out and I don’t want to be alone with my thoughts tonight.”

Before you could finish your sentence, Porco was already killing the engine.

It was a silent walk to your apartment. You checked yourself in the elevator's mirror, realizing how awful you truly looked. Your eyeliner was smudged along with your mascara and the bags under your eyes were more noticeable than ever. As you inspected your face, Porco grabbed your cheek between his thumb and index, playfully pulling it from side to side until you were laughing, asking him to stop.

When you entered your apartment, you immediately walked to the bathroom, in deep necessity of a shower. Porco knew your apartment like the back of his hand, so after a quick detour to the kitchen, he made his way to your bedroom. He saw your laptop on your bed, messy sheets and clothes on the floor, probably how you had left it after seeing Yelena’s post on Instagram and decided to go to your favourite bar and forget about it for a while.

Porco took off his shoes and started picking up your clothes and put them on your spare chair, your laptop now on your desk. While he made your bed, he listened to you using your hairdryer in the bathroom and figured you would be out soon. He took out his phone from his pocket and looked at this schedule. It was already four in the morning and he had classes at nine. It was okay, he told himself. He had a hoodie in his car he could change into the next morning, and no one would say anything about him arriving in sweatpants. Well, no one that cared enough about their reputation to try and make fun of one of the golden boys of the university, at least.

You stepped off your bathroom already wearing your pyjamas, a tank top and small cotton shorts. Being friends with Porco for so long, it wasn’t the first time he had seen you in your pyjamas but it was truly the first time he saw you so small while wearing them. Maybe it was because of everything that happened that night, your tired eyes or the way you were standing, but Porco had to fight off the urge to put his arms around your body and protect you. From what? He wasn’t quite sure.

He handed you a bottle of water he had grabbed from the kitchen and you drank it all in one try.

“The only true secret to avoid being hungover tomorrow,” he reminded you.

“I know,” you smiled, leaving the empty bottle on your desk. “C’mon, let's get to bed.”

Porco had slept with you before, sure. You had travelled to the beach together with some friends and your sleeping bags were always put next to each other, which only prompted you to talk all night, telling each other embarrassing stories from your younger years. You had also fallen asleep in Porco’s dorm before, after a party that left you too tired to go back to your place. He would always let you crash on his bed and you slept soundly, knowing you were safe if he was around.

Zeke had never liked that. But Porco couldn’t care less.

He got into bed first, scooting to the wall and making space for you. You laid next to Porco, facing him and sighed happily when your head finally hit your pillow

“Thanks for making the bed, Pock,” you smiled.

“Why are you still with him?”

You averted his gaze, your smile dropping in an instant. “I love him,” you muttered.

“Do you? Do you really love someone who is lying to you like this?” he insisted. You felt a knot forming on your throat. “You understand he was fucking Yelena, right?”

You nodded softly, hugging the pillow under your head.

“Then why waste your time with an asshole like him? What are you waiting for, what do you want him to do so you finally leave him? What’s your tipping point, huh?”

Porco’s voice was gentle yet firm as he tried to get to you. He watched you as you laid still, not willing to answer any of his questions. He wondered if maybe you didn’t want to know the answer either.

“You’re smart. You’re— fuck, you’re one of the smartest people I know. Why are you letting him treat you like garbage? Why are you allowing him to hurt you like this?”

Once again, he was met with silence.

“You’re are fun, beautiful and yet you’re drunk at 4 am on a fucking Wednesday because your boyfriend is cheating on you and not only that— he’s fucking her and letting everyone know. Why are you doing this to yourself?” he inquired, his voice getting a little desperate. “You should be with someone who treats you right, who— fuck, someone who knows how much you’re worth. Someone who would never hurt you like this.”

You couldn’t suppress a cold laugh.

“Yeah, like who?” you scoffed, nuzzling your face on your pillow.

“Like me.”

You snapped your head to Porco, eyes open wide and lips parted, trying to form words.

“W-what?”

You looked at Porco, his eyes looking intensely at you. He opened his mouth and closed it almost immediately, shaking his head.

“No,” he said, almost to himself, shifting on the bed and propping up on his elbow, his body still facing yours. “I said what I said. I… I love you. Have loved you for quite some time now,” he admitted. You watched heat rising to his cheeks, tinting them deep red.

“I— I love you too,” you said softly. “You know that. I always tell you how grateful I am to have you in my life and that I—”

“You know I don’t mean it like that. I don’t love you as a friend,” Porco muttered, rolling his eyes.

You stayed in silence, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as your eyes scanned the bed sheets between both your bodies. Even if Porco was being crystal clear with his words regarding his feelings towards you, somehow it didn’t make sense in your head.

“Why?” you whispered.

“What do you mean ‘why’?”

“Why do you… well—”

“Why do I love you?” Porco asked, raising an eyebrow. He watched you nod softly. “Well, ‘cause it’s you. Ever since we met, I just couldn’t stop thinking about you, your weird sense of humour and your irrational fear of panda bears,” he said, making both of you laugh, helping in releasing the tension both of you were carrying since his confession. “C’mon, you honestly thought I was so full of myself I didn’t think anyone was worthy of dating me? Fuck, I—,” he let out an honest chuckle, passing a hand through his hair. “I was just in love with you. And trust me, it’s not fun going out on a date with someone when all you can think is ‘Oh, she’d love this place’ or ‘I would be having much more fun if she was here instead’.”

“You really did that?” you asked in a small voice.

Porco smirked, cocking his head towards you. You knew his confession was playing a big part but you couldn’t stop noticing how handsome he truly was. Sure, you had always known he was good-looking, you knew this when you teased him for not going out with other people, but you never realized how truly beautiful he was.

Looking at him lying on your bed, the moonlight coming from your open window and hitting his face, it was as if you were looking at him for the first time, noticing the smallest details you had been ignoring for so long. Like how his eyes weren’t hazel but golden and that he had a few freckles on his cheekbones, decorating his slightly tanned skin. His lips also looked soft, even for someone who had woken up in the middle of the night to pick up their drunk friend. The white t-shirt he was wearing exposed his toned arms, making you feel the need to bury your face on his chest so he could put them around you.

You hadn’t realized you were moving forward until you felt Porco’s hand on your shoulder, preventing you from getting closer. You should have known you wouldn’t have been able to notice his freckles from afar. Porco’s eyes went from your lips back to your eyes and you sensed how bad he was rethinking his choices as he gently pushed you back on the bed.

“Listen, I—” he started, his blush only getting more noticeable, now making the tip of his nose turn red as well. “I’m not going to be your rebound, neither someone who you fuck out of spite or to get back at your boyfriend. Fuck, I don’t even know why I told you this,” he sighed, putting down his propped arm and laying his cheek on the pillow next to you. “Just… do better. For yourself. You deserve much more than that monkey man who hasn’t realized he’s a four dating a ten.”

You giggled at his remark and he smirked, proud of himself. Porco and you looked at each other’s eyes, a soft smile lingering on your lips. Tentatively, you reached for his hair, his golden locks feeling soft under your touch. Porco stayed still as you played with his hair, even closing his eyes as you did so.

After a few moments, your hand travelled to his cheek, making him open his eyes again. Your thumb gently stroked his skin, soft and tender under your touch. Porco’s eyes were fixed on your face as you caressed him silently. Your other fingers started running over his skin with a feather-like touch, entrapped in the sweet moment between the two of you.

Porco turned his head just enough for his mouth to meet your palm. He pressed a kiss on it, his eyes never leaving yours. You felt your heart skipping a beat and a smile creeping on your face.

“Can I hug you?” you asked in a whisper.

Porco nodded, opening his arms for you. You scooted closer to him, sliding your right arm around his waist, bending your other arm and flushing your head against his chest. Your legs tangled together, not taking too long before finding a comfortable position.

Once you were settled, Porco’s left arm draped around your body, pulling you closer to him gently. He pushed his right arm under your pillow, loving how easy it felt to be like this with you. It was as if you were always meant to sleep like this, with your face against his chest and your hand on his back. He looked down at you and pushed some of your hair away from your face

“Are you comfortable?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, taking a deep breath and sighing contently against his chest. Porco’s cologne filled your senses and you couldn’t help but smile at the homely feeling.

He pressed his lips against your forehead. “Goodnight,” he whispered, closing his eyes. You imitated him and quickly fell into a deep sleep.

...

When Porco opened his eyes the next morning, he felt as if only a couple of seconds had passed since he had closed his eyes. He sighed. Well, it wasn’t the first time that he had sleeping problems but a part of him innocently hoped it would change after he got to sleep by your side. He looked at your sleeping face. It was way too innocent from him to think just because he got to rest by your side he would have had a good sleep.

He looked down at your sleeping face and couldn’t help but smile a little. He recalled the moment you leaned into him, searching for a kiss before he had to push you away. Porco exhaled, his eyes travelling to your lips. There wasn’t anything he wanted more than to kiss the girl of his dreams— hell, he had dreamt about that for almost a year now.

But not like that. Never like that.

Porco took his phone on your bedside table and checked the time. Seven in the morning. He yawned, burying his face in the pillow. He hated his inability to go back to sleep after he had already woken up. His first class was in three hours and while you didn’t have any classes in the morning, he knew you would probably wake up regretting having drunk so much the night before.

Carefully, he pulled away from you and headed to the kitchen. You had mentioned Annie was going to be out and he figured either she hadn’t come home yet or she was asleep as well. Just in case, he tried to be extra silent while preparing coffee. He thanked Annie was the closest thing to a coffee connoisseur he knew, because he couldn’t help but let out a happy hum when the smell of coffee filled the kitchen.

As he watched the coffee drip on your mug, he leaned on the counter, his mind going back to the night he’d spent on your bed. How your fingers traced his hair, how your hand felt against his cheek and the way you looked at him when he kissed your palm. Even if he had stopped you from kissing him, somehow the tender moment you shared had felt even more intimate. Like it was always supposed to be like that: just you and him.

It wasn’t until several minutes later that Porco realized he had been smiling the whole time. He had told you he loved you. You hadn’t pushed him away after knowing how he really felt about you— not only that, you had shown him tenderness by cuddling with him the whole night. Even if Porco was aware things were far more complicated than that moment, he also knew it was a step in the right direction. He could almost see you sitting on the counter in front of him, morning light hitting your face and your legs swinging while you looked at him with a soft smile.

A shuffling noise made Porco snap out of his daydreaming. He peeked from the kitchen door, thinking Annie was back home but instead he found you stepping out of the room, wearing shorts and a big hoodie while you checked your phone.

“Thought you didn’t have class until later today,” Porco said, walking into the living room and startling you.

“Hey Pock— and no, I— Zeke called. He said he wants to talk, that he needs me, so I… I called an Uber, I’m going to his place now.”

“Are you serious right now?”

You looked into his eyes and immediately back to the floor, his glare too full of the truth for you to endure.

“The Uber is waiting,” you said in a small voice. “Thanks for… driving me home and staying. I have to go.”

In silence, Porco watched you walk past him to your apartment door and carefully close it behind you. A part of him wanted to think it was nothing but a joke from your part, that you would open the door any second now.

The song of the coffee machine turning off let him know he should have known better than to hope.

[kingandfireheart]

Lucien Vanserra Sass Appreciation Post

For more serious Lucien content see my other posts:

What the fuck is happening in the Autumn Court series Part 1 (Eris) and Part 2 (Lady of the Autumn Court)

What stories are left: Lucien

When Lucien introduces himself:

"Lucien," my captor said quietly, the name echoing with a hint of a snarl. "Behave."

Lucien went rigid, but he hopped off the edge of the table and bowed deeply to me. "My apologies, lady." Another joke at my expense. "I'm Lucien. Courtier and emissary." He gestured to me with a flourish. "Your eyes are like stars, and your hair like burnished gold."

When Lucien is intrigued by Feyre:

"Well," Lucien said, his remaining russet eye fixed on me, "you don't look half as bad now. A relief, I suppose, since you're to live with us. Though the tunic isn't as pretty as a dress."

When Lucien wants to know if Feyre thinks he's hot:

"Thank you for the meal," I said. It was all I could think of. "Won't you stay for wine?" Lucien said with sweet venom from where he lounged in his seat. I braced my hands on my chair to rise. "I'm tired. I'd like to sleep." "It's been a few decades since I last saw one of you," Lucien drawled, "but you humans never change, so I don't think I'm wrong in asking why you find our company to be so unpleasant, when surely the men back home aren't much to look at." At the other end of the table, Tamlin gave his emissary a long, warning look. Lucien ignored it. "You're High Fae," I said tightly. "I'd ask why you'd even bother inviting me here at all-or dining with me." Fool-I really should have been killed ten times over already. Lucien said, "True. But indulge me: you're a human woman, and yet you'd rather eat hot coals than sit here longer than necessary. Ignoring this"-he waved a hand at the metal eye and brutal scar on his face-"surely we're not so miserable to look at."

When Feyre leaves their first dinner together:

He gave a distant nod and motioned for me to leave. Dismissed. Like the lowly human I was. Lucien propped his chin on a fist and gave me a lazy half smile. Enough. I got to my feet and backed toward the door. Putting my back to them would have been like walking away from a wolf, sparing my life or no. They said nothing when I slipped out the door. A moment later, Lucien's barking laugh echoed into the halls, followed by a sharp, vicious growl that shut him up.

When Lucien notices Feyre checking him out:

Lucien paused, and I found him smirking at me, making the scar even more brutal. "Were you admiring my sword, or just contemplating killing me, Feyre?"

When Lucien is a sarcastic motherfucker:

“So is this what you do with your lives? Spare humans from the Treaty and have fine meals?” I gave a pointed glance toward Tamlin’s baldric, the warrior’s clothes, Lucien’s sword. Lucien smirked. “We also dance with the spirits under the full moon and snatch human babes from their cradles to replace them with changelings–”

When Lucien describes Amaratha perfectly:

"What happened to the magic to make it act that way?" Lucien let out a harsh laugh. "Something was sent from the shit-holes of Hell," he said, then glanced around and swore. "I shouldn't have said that. If word got back to her-"

When they run into the Boggee:

"I heard its voice in my head. It told me to look." Lucien rolled his shoulders. "Well, thank the Cauldron that you didn't. Cleaning up that mess would have ruined the rest of my day." He gave me a wan smile. I didn't return it.

When he gives Feyre a title:

"Are you a warrior, though?" Would you be able to kill me if it ever came to that? Lucien huffed a laugh. "Not as good as Tam, but I know how to handle my weapons." He patted the hilt of his sword. "Would you like me to teach you how to wield a blade, or do you already know how, oh mighty mortal huntress?

When Lucien just needs someone to spar with:

“Do you ever stop being so serious and dull?" "Do you ever stop being such a prick?" I snapped back. Dead—really, truly, I should have been dead for that. But Lucien grinned at me. "Much better.

When Lucien and Feyre spend quality time together:

Over the next three days, I found myself joining Lucien on Andras's old patrol while Tamlin hunted the grounds for the Bogge, unseen by us. Despite being an occasional bastard, Lucien didn't seem to mind my company, and he did most of the talking, which was fine; it left me to brood over the consequences of firing a single arrow. An arrow. I never fired a single one during those three days we rode along the border. That very morning I'd spied a red doe in a glen and aimed out of instinct, my arrow poised to fly right into her eye as Lucien sneered that she was not a faerie, at least. But I'd stared at her-fat and healthy and content-and then slackened the bow, replaced the arrow in my quiver, and let the doe wander on.

When Lucien diagnoses Faerie problems perfectly:

A brush of ice slithered across my nape. "He would be that brutal?" Lucien studied the wine in his goblet. "You don't hold on to power by being everyone's friend. And among the faeries, lesser and High Fae alike, a firm hand is needed. We're too powerful, and too bored with immortality, to be checked by anything else."

When Lucien is told to Back Off, so he exacts his revenge:

Lucien's russet eye was bright, though the smile he gave me didn't meet it. The face of Tamlin's emissary-more court-trained and calculating than I'd seen him yet. "I'm unavailable today," he said. He jerked his chin to Tamlin. "He'll go with you." Tamlin shot his friend a look of disdain that he took few pains to hide. His usual baldric was armed with more knives than I'd seen before, and their ornate metal handles glinted as he turned to me, his shoulders tight. "Whenever you want to go, just say so." The claws of his free hand slipped back under his skin. No. I almost said it aloud as I turned pleading eyes to Lucien. Lucien merely patted my shoulder as he passed by. "Perhaps tomorrow, human."

When Lucien hides:

"I had to go sort out some hotheads on the northern border-official emissary business," he said, setting down the hunting knife he'd been cleaning, a long, vicious blade. "I got back in time to hear your little spat with Tam, and decided I was safer up here. I'm glad to hear your human heart has warmed to me, though. At least I'm not on the top of your killing list."

When Lucien and Feyre become friends after he tells her how to trap a Suriel:

Another riddle-and another bit of information. I said, "It's a good thing that while you have superior hearing, I possess superior abilities to keep my mouth shut." He snorted as I took the knife from the table and turned to procure the bow from my room. "I think I'm starting to like you-for a murdering human."

When Lucien is day drinking and living his best life:

“Would you like me to grovel with gratitude for bringing me here, High Lord?" "Ah. The Suriel told you nothing important, did it?" That smile of his sparked something bold in my chest. "He also said that you liked being brushed, and if I'm a clever girl, I might train you with treats." Tamlin tipped his head to the sky and roared with laughter. Despite myself, I let out a quiet laugh. "I might die of surprise," Lucien said behind me. "You made a joke, Feyre." I turned to look at him with a cool smile. "You don't want to know what the Suriel said about you." I flicked my brows up, and Lucien lifted his hands in defeat. "I'd pay good money to hear what the Suriel thinks of Lucien," Tamlin said. A cork popped, followed by the sounds of Lucien chugging the bottle's contents and chuckling with a muttered, "Brushed.”

When Lucien is incredibly casual for a guy going to an orgy:

What?”

Lucien laughed. “Yes—all those female faeries around you were females for Tamlin to pick. It’s an honor to be chosen, but it’s his instincts that select her.”

“But you were there—and other male faeries.” My face burned so hot that I began sweating. That was why those three horrible faeries had been there—and they’d thought that just by my presence, I was happy to comply with their plans.

“Ah.” Lucien chuckled. “Well, Tam’s not the only one who gets to perform the rite tonight. Once he makes his choice, we’re free to mingle. Though it’s not the Great Rite, our own dalliances tonight will help the land, too.

When Lucien is the mom friend:

"You look . . . refreshed," Lucien observed with a glance at Tamlin. I shrugged. "Sleep well?" "Like a babe." I smiled as him and took another bite of food, and felt Lucien's eyes travel inexorably to my neck. "What is that bruise?" Lucien demanded. I pointed my fork to Tamlin. "Ask him, he did it." Lucien looked from Tamlin to me and then back again. "Why does Feyre have a bruise on her neck from you?" he asked with no small amount of amusement.

When Lucien loves drama:

"Accountable?" I sputtered, placing my hands flat on the table. "You cornered me in the hall like a wolf with a rabbit!" Lucien propped an arm on the table and covered his mouth with his hand, his russet eye bright. "While I might not have been myself, Lucien and I both told you to stay in your room," Tamlin said, so calmly that I wanted to rip out my hair. I couldn't help it. Didn't even try to fight the red-hot temper that razed my senses. "Faerie pig!" I yelled, and Lucien howled, almost tipping back in his chair. At the sight of Tamlin's growing smile, I left.

When Lucien bolts:

“I had to keep my hands clenched at my sides to avoid wiping my sweaty palms on the skirts of my gown as I reached the dining room, and immediately contemplated bolting upstairs and changing into a tunic and pants. But I knew they’d already heard me, or smelled me, or used whatever heightened senses they had to detect my presence, and since fleeing would only make it worse, I found it in myself to push open the double doors.

Whatever discussion Tamlin and Lucien had been having stopped, and I tried not to look at their wide eyes as I strode to my usual place at the end of the table.

“Well, I’m late for something incredibly important,” Lucien said, and before I could call him on his outright lie or beg him to stay, the fox-masked faerie vanished.

When Feyre goes to a party:

"Cauldron boil me," Lucien whistled as I came down the stairs. "She looks positively Fae." ...

I squared my shoulders, disinclined to let him see how much his words or voice or sheer well-being impacted me. Not yet. "I'm surprised I'm even allowed to participate tonight." "Unfortunately for you and your neck," Lucien countered, "tonight's just a party." "Do you lie awake at night to come up with all your witty replies for the following day?" Lucien winked at me, and Tamlin laughed and offered me his arm. "He's right,"....

"So there's singing and dancing and excessive drinking," Lucien chimed in, falling into step beside me. "And dallying," he added with a wicked grin.

When Lucien plays a prank:

"I also remember you telling me how witchberries were harmless, and the next thing I knew, I was half-delirious and falling all over myself," I said, recalling the afternoon from a few weeks ago. I'd had hallucinations for hours afterward, and Lucien had laughed himself sick-enough so that Tamlin had chucked him into the reflection pool...."

When Feyre gets drunk of Faerie Wine:

“Tam would gut me if he caught you drinking that.”

“Always looking after your best interests,” I said, and pointedly chugged the contents of the glass. It was like a million fireworks exploding inside me, filling my veins with starlight. I laughed aloud, and Lucien groaned.

“Human fool,” he hissed.

But his glamour had been ripped away. His auburn hair burned like hot metal, and his russet eye smoldered like a bottomless forge. That was what I would capture next.

“I’m going to paint you,” I said, and giggled—actually giggled—as the words popped out.

"Cauldron boil and fry me,” he muttered, and I laughed again.”

When Lucien is hungover and third-wheeling:

Lucien kept rubbing at his temples as he ate, unusually silent, and I hid my smile as I asked him, “And where were you last night?” Lucien’s metal eye narrowed on me. “I’ll have you know that while you two were dancing with the spirits, I was stuck on border patrol.” Tamlin gave a pointed cough, and Lucien added, “With some company.” He gave me a sly grin. “Rumor has it you two didn’t come back until after dawn.” I glanced at Tamlin, biting my lip. I’d practically floated into my bedroom that morning. But Tamlin’s gaze now roved my face as if searching for any tinge of regret, of fear. Ridiculous. “You bit my neck on Fire Night,” I said under my breath. “If I can face you after that, a few kisses are nothing.” He braced his forearms on the table as he leaned closer to me. “Nothing?” His eyes flicked to my lips. Lucien shifted in his seat, muttering to the Cauldron to spare him, but I ignored him. “Nothing,” I repeated a bit distantly, watching Tamlin’s mouth move, so keenly aware of every movement he made, resenting the table between us. I could almost feel the warmth of his breath. “Are you sure?” he murmured, intent and hungry enough that I was glad I was sitting. He could have had me right there, on top of that table. I wanted his broad hands running over my bare skin, wanted his teeth scraping against my neck, wanted his mouth all over me. “I’m trying to eat,” Lucien said.”

When Lucien drops one of the best lines in the book:

"I see," I lied, not quite seeing at all. Lucien chuckled, sensing it, and I glared sidelong at him. "You've been noticeably absent again." He used the dagger to clean his nails. "I've been busy. So have you, I take it." "What's that supposed to mean?" I demanded. "If I offer you the moon on a string, will you give me a kiss, too?"

When Lucien doesn't know what is coming in the future:

Downstairs, Lucien snorted at the sight of me. "Those clothes are enough to convince me I never want to enter the human realm." "I'm not sure the human realm would know what to do with you," I said. Lucien's smile was edged, his shoulders tight as he gave a sharp look behind me to where Tam was waiting in front of a gilded carriage. When he turned back, that metal eye narrowed. "I thought you were smarter than this."

When Lucien admires Feyre's attitude:

“Don’t you understand what Rhys is?” “I do!” I barked, then sighed. “I do,” I repeated, and glared at the eye in my palm. “It’s done with. So you needn’t hold to whatever oath you swore to Tamlin to protect me—or feel like you owe me anything for saving you from Amarantha. I would have done it just to wipe the smirk off your brothers’ faces.” Lucien clicked his tongue, but his remaining russet eye shone. “I’m glad to see you didn’t sell your lively human spirit or stubbornness to Rhys.”

When Lucien is a fashionista:

Lucien had gifted both to me—the dagger during the months before Amarantha, the belt in the weeks after her downfall, when I’d carried the dagger, along with many others, everywhere I went. You might as well look good if you’re going to arm yourself to the teeth, he’d said.

When game recognize game

“Cursebreaker,” some murmured. “Blessed,” others whispered.

I made a show of looking surprised—surprised and yet accepting of the Cauldron’s choice. Tamlin’s face was taut with shock, the Hybern royals’ nothing short of baffled.

But I turned to Lucien, my light radiating so brightly that it bounced off his metal eye. A friend beseeching another for help. I reached a hand toward him.

Beyond us, I could feel Ianthe scrambling to regain control, to find some way to spin it.

Perhaps Lucien could, too. For he took my hand, and then knelt upon one knee in the grass, pressing my fingers to his brow.

When Lucien is scared of Amren:

“I think Amren would probably deny that she feels any affection for us—”

“Amren is a bedtime story they told us as younglings to make us behave. Amren was who would drink my blood and carry me to hell if I acted out of line. And yet there she was, acting more like a cranky old aunt than anything.”

“We don’t—we don’t enforce protocol and rank here.”

“Obviously. Rhys lives in a town house, by the Cauldron.” He waved an arm to encompass the city.

When Lucien is a little murderous:

“You’re working with that prick,” Cassian cut in, whatever catching-up now over, apparently. He moved to Mor’s side, a hand on her back. He shook his head at Azriel and Rhys, disgust curling his lip. “You should have spiked Eris’s fucking head to the front gates.”

Azriel only watched them with that icy indifference. But Lucien crossed his arms, leaning against the back of the couch. “I have to agree with Cassian. Eris is a snake.”

When Lucien volunteers to go on a quest:

“You will be going into the human territory,” Rhys warned. “I can’t spare a force to guard you—”

“I don’t need one. I travel faster on my own.” His chin lifted. “I will find her. And if there’s an army to bring back, or at least some way for her own story to sway the human forces … I’ll find a way to do that, too.”

My friends glanced to each other. Mor said, “It will be—very dangerous.”

A half smile curved Lucien’s mouth. “Good. It’d be boring otherwise.

When Lucien makes a friend

“Not for long—not if Vassa has anything to do with it.”

“You sound like an acolyte.”

Lucien blushed, glancing at Elain. “She’s got a foul temper and a fouler mouth.” He cut me a wry look. “You’ll get along just fine.”

[wthtorke]

Cultural Differences

One shot commission for @scallopedsuitcase ! Thank you! 

You didn’t know what to do anymore.

When you heard that the Yautja-Human peace treaty was finally up and running and that not only that meant everyone was safe and sound but also that the galaxy’s greatest and sexiest species was to roam free within your planet. You were proudly part of a small community that wasn’t opposed to...engaging-, with such creatures.

It didn’t take long for you to find your Yautja of interest. He was tall. Taller than any other partner you ever had before. That alone did things to you. Their ships had taken residency in whatever forests seemed best to them. You’d never thanked the skies more for living right outside a reserve in your life. 

The first thing you checked was his wrist from afar. To make things easier for everyone while they sorted out yautja translators for humans, yautjas interested in human contact wore different colored lights on their wrist gauntlets. Some of the colors were; red for ‘No Contact’, yellow for ‘formal contact only’, blue for ‘Friendly contact’, and purple for ‘Accepting of human advances’.

Now, while the term was awkward at best, but you were the happiest human on earth when your crush showed up on your street with that purplish wrist gauntlet. it’s lights dancing, glowing brighter and then darker again in an endless cycle.

He was everything you’ve ever dreamed of physically and after some time observing and building up your courage-, you found that his personality was just as much endearing as his physique. 

You’d taken to hiking, something you didn’t exactly have the habit of doing, all in hopes of spotting him by his ship, and so you did. So, there began your mission. While you didn’t have a translator on your person, there was one language that was known to all the galaxy.

Flirting.

Flirting was supposed to be exciting, charming, and well, what better way to let someone know you were totally into them, right? Surely, some winks and gestures here and there would pass him the message loud and clear.

2 weeks in of hiking and you could feel your muscles hardening up. The way your body responded to this new routine spoke volumes of your previous sedentary ways, never really having a reason to leave the house if it wasn’t for work or well, buying what you needed. So far, however, your flirting had brought you no results. The times you could make out his expressions when he saw you were...not pleasing. He looked...confused, at best. 

So, you sat at home on a particularly cold night, holding a warm mug of hot chocolate to keep the shivers at bay, wondering what could you possibly be doing wrong. You bit your lip, winked, wore your best clothes, and still, nothing. It was frustrating.

You checked on your translator order situation, refreshing the page now and then as you knew they were updated at night. When the peace treaty was first announced and the ‘requesting’ system was up, you hurried to place your order. The translator wasn’t cheap, and it would only be one of the very prototypes, meaning it wouldn’t be able to translate everything at once so fluidly, but at least you’d be able to communicate faster before most of the people could, and that alone made you very happy, it was exhilarating. 

The translator had been ‘In Confection’ for months now, finally coming around the expected date of postage as your page told you. 

Another hour went by before you refreshed it again, the yellow dot becoming green with the text you had been waiting for underneath it. 

“In Transit.”

Finally.

With newfound excitement and determination, you pulled up the weather report for tomorrow’s morning and afternoon, sighing as you thought of your Yautja crush yet again.

The next morning came as fast as your head hit the pillow as you jumped up and out of the bed, ready to start your day with your morning jog, hoping to see him either on the way up or down the trail. Teeth brushed, hair tied up, and a water bottle filled, you made your way out the door, feeling the chilly morning air fill your lungs, wiping away the last remains of sleep from your body.

While jogging, you fell in thought. 

The translator wouldn’t take more than 3 days to arrive. In little time you’d be able to communicate with him...but what if he didn’t like you? 

Your jogging slowed down to a walk as this hit you hard in the head.

What if he had already rejected you and you didn’t catch it? You thought about it further and so came the odd looks he gave you, the puzzled stares, and more. You made your efforts well known and well shown as well, and he didn’t growl or try to move away, so it couldn’t have been that bad, right?

You looked at your feet as you walked, lost in those thoughts as you hit something hard, making you stumble back a couple of steps. You looked back up in surprise only to find out it wasn’t something but someone.

“Oh, hi! Sorry, I um, I didn’t see you,” You said, doing your best to gesture to him, and then your eyes, trying to tell him what you said.

As always, he stood there for a second, slowly nodding afterward. He tilted his head to the side a bit, getting a little closer to your person as if inspecting your face. His tusks were close to your face, so close you thought he was going to kiss you. Or well, try to, given he didn’t have lips.

“I-,” was all you managed to get out before he stepped back, shaking his head slightly before reaching behind his back, where his pouch usually was. Hands coming forward again, he extended his arm, opening his palm to present you with something.

You gasped at the notion of receiving a gift from him, this could only mean courtship, right?

Looking down at his hand, you were more than confused to see a very human-made looking pill bottle. “What?” You said, picking it up from his hand.

‘Melatonin. Sleep aid.’

“Sleep aid?” You questioned, looking back up at him, “Are you saying I look tired?!” You said, shaking the pill bottle towards him, the yautja raising his hands a bit, the universal sign for ‘hey calm down’.

But what could this possibly mean?

“I tried so hard! And you say I took tired? I’ve been coming here every day to see you! You-!” You sighed, shoulders slacking a bit after your outburst. “Okay, okay. You know what? Fuck-, I get it, I’ll let you be,” You said, turning right back around, deciding to end your exercise right there when the biggest hand you ever felt closed around your arm, making you look back again.

You had heard the Yautja language before, but hearing it live was just as foreign. He was speaking fast, the clicks and guttural growls making absolutely no sense to you.

He still, somehow, managed to look confused while speaking such a harsh tongue.

“I don’t understand!” You exasperated, yanking your arm free and sighing again. You put your hand up, “Wait.” you said. 

He looked at your hand, which accompanied with the word made something light up in his face as he nodded this time. “Good, I’ll um, see you later,” You said, waving and making the rest of your way back to your house.

You couldn’t stop thinking about it. Sitting on your couch while staring at the pill bottle on the table. It was what it was, you supposed. It was truly melatonin. 

But what did he mean with it? Did he want you to sleep well? Why did he think you weren’t getting enough sleep?

“Where did he even get this?!”

The pill bottle was sealed still, just like the ones you’d buy at the drug store. Could you imagine? A Yautja walking in a drug store and purchasing melatonin? If you told that to someone, they’d think you were crazy, even with the whole peace treaty going on.

Another day went by and you didn’t go jogging anymore, afraid your ‘relationship’ could turn sour if you saw him again without your translator. Still, the pill bottle haunted you, sitting in the exact place on your table.

On the second morning after your disastrous encounter, the doorbell rang. And you knew exactly what it was for. Sprinting for the door, the mailman was different, clearly a private company worker, holding your package with both his hands, looking around as he waited for you to come up.

Package picked up, opened, and fiddled with. After 15 minutes, you sat in your living room muttering words into your translator, watching as it came to life, making some odd sounds in what you knew was the yautja language.

Now you could go talk to him, for real.

Picking up the pill bottle from the table, you sprinted up the trail again, regretting not bringing your water bottle as you reached the place where you last saw him, panting and a little red in the face.

You looked back up when you heard soft purring, a sound you hadn’t heard before but wished dearly to.

‘It means affection’ you recalled reading once from the article the first human to mate a yautja wrote, ‘Fondness’.

You straightened yourself, clearing your throat before looking up at him, “Um, hi, I- ah fuck,” you fiddled some more, producing your translator from your pocket, getting a curious look from the yautja before you.

“I hope this works” you muttered before lifting the device closer to your mouth and taking a deep breath. “Hi, I hope this translates what I’m saying decently, now, I’d please like to know what did you mean with this?” You said into it, waiting a second before it started its clicking noises.

The Yautja’s expression changed instantly, his eyes widening as he leaned forward to the sound of his language. He squinted as he kept listening, making you blush in embarrassment. God, was the translator that bad?

Upon hearing the last of the clicking, you lifted the pill bottle to him for emphasis, waiting for him to react.

He stood up straight again, eyeing the bottle he gave you a few days prior, still unopened. He extended his hand, shaking his head when you offered him the bottle, pointing instead to the translator in your other hand. “Oh, of course!” You handed it to him, watching as he had a look at the digital screen, apparently switching its mode from ‘Human to Yautja’ to ‘Yautja to Human’ seeing as the translator worked with just about every human language around the world.

Satisfied with the settings, he started speaking into it himself, gesturing to the pill bottle while he did so and then, to your surprise, to your face. This made you gasp a bit, your mind jumping to the worst conclusions possible. Did he think you were ugly? Well, you’d have to wait and see.

As he finished speaking, you both gave the translator a couple of seconds when a male voice spoke up, making you jump a bit, hands shaking in anticipation. “Hello. I thought you were sick. Whenever we had an encounter, you would make these strange expressions. I searched for them, the results were that what could be possibly making you have these...tics, was lack of sleep. The excessive blinking, biting your lips, involuntary facial pulling, all are the result of sleepless nights, excessive exhaustion, and the medicine for that is...that, for humans anyway.”

“WHAT?!” You yelled, snatching the translator back from his hand as he stared at you with yet another confused expression. “I was flirting with you! Flirting! I’m not sick!” You said, holding out the translator as it did its thing.

Confusion melting away into realization, he spoke again, not bothering to hold the translator but simply stepping closer to you.

“You were trying to court me?”

“Yes! I was winking at you! It’s a human thing!” You said, then realizing your mistake, “Oh...human thing...Ah fuck” You covered your face in embarrassment, “God, that’s why you always looked at me like that, I-”

“Would you still like to...court me?”

“Yes!” You said, head jerking up again so fast the yautja before you flinched a bit. “I-, yes.” You cleared your throat, a hard blush creeping its way across your face again.

“Good, it was my plan to court you too...after you had healed of your...sickness.” He said, chuckling, “Which apparently was no sickness at all.” He cleared as you squinted at him, “Well, I’m Yeyinde.” He said, “I’m glad we can finally communicate, always wanted to ask you a few things.”

You smiled, feeling that blush coming back again, “How about we go on a walk? Then we can talk about anything you want” You said, holding out your free hand for him to take.

“Of course,” He rumbled, massive hand closing gently around yours as you started walking up the rest of the trail.

[jincherie]

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 !

[moonlit-imagines]

The Doctor Is Out

Stephen Strange x reader

warnings:

a/n: wrote this a while ago and its been sitting in my drafts. part 1/2

prompt:

In (2)

Without opening your eyes, you stretched your stiffened body against the silk sheets and rolled over to face your husband.

“Good morning, dear.” You whispered through a yawn, which led into a smile. Stephen was already awake and reading one of the many books he kept at his bedside.

“And good morning to you, too.” He leaned over and gave you a kiss on the temple, letting your eyes flutter open. “Did you sleep well?”

“I’d say so.” You reluctantly sat up on your side of the bed, pushing the covers away. “Any plans for today?”

“Not in particular.” Stephen decided to get out of bed with you and get ready for the day, although he was in a gray jacket and blue jeans in the blink of an eye. “We don’t have very much to eat, I might go run out for lunch.”

“Lunch?” You asked as you pulled on a pair of pants.

“Yes, well, you seem to have gotten a late start on the day.” Your husband explained. “I didn’t want to wake you, you looked so content with your dreams.” You took Stephen’s wrist to take a look at the time.

“It’s half past eleven?” You stared in shock at your husband’s watch. “You just waited for me?” He shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal, but Stephen rarely ever let himself lag behind, it was truly sweet of him to keep you company while you drifted through the peace of your head, thoughts you’d already forgotten. “It seems the odds were in our favor when our paths first crossed, huh?”

“Don’t make a big deal out of it, my dear.” Stephen’s barely shaking hands cupped your face and right before he leaned in for a refreshing kiss to the lips, he whispered, “I’m not as great a man as you make me out to be.”

You hummed into the kiss he gave you and pulled back just a tad. “Oh, you’re right. You’re just the worst.” Sarcasm failed to escape you in moments like these, it was more entertaining than anything else in the eyes of your husband. “Now, I’m starving. Want to go to the deli around the block?”

“That’ll work. We should ask Wong if he’s hungry, too.”

—————

“You don’t have any money?” Stephen asked as the three of you walked through the Sanctum in a fixed line.

“Attachment to the material is detachment from the spiritual.” Wong’s wise words rung in your mind as you tried to figure out what he did before the two of you had moved in with him.

“I’ll tell the guys at the deli.” Stephen snarked. “Maybe they’ll make you a metaphysical ham on rye.”

“It’s fine, we’ll pay for your lunch.” You interjected after hearing enough of that. Somehow, the trip down the stairs was unsuccessful since your steps from only a few seconds ago were nothing but rubble. You fell to the floor as Stephen and Wong took defensive positions.

“Thanos is coming.” An unfamiliar voice spoke as you lay on the cold floor. Were you able to get up on your own? Probably, but that fall would definitely leave a mark. After a moment’s time of your lonely visit with the floor, your partner rushed over to you.

“Y/N? Are you alright?” He crouched beside you and helped you back up, lightly brushing your cheek as he checked for any injuries.

“I think I’m okay.” You nodded. “Hit my head on the way down.” Peering over his shoulder while he checked your head for any bumps, you saw Dr. Bruce Banner crawl from the rubble. “Do I have a concussion or was it a gamma scientist that just crashed into the Sanctum?”

“Hi, I’m Doctor—” He waved just before you cut him off.

“I know who you are, Doctor Banner.” You replied with a smirk. “I’m Dr. L/N-Strange, specializing in neuroscience, but formerly gamma research.” Stephen smiled himself when he heard you say your name and just a little more when you described your profession. Maybe he was just proud to be near someone so accomplished.

“I don’t think you have a concussion.” A kiss on your forehead was the best medicine he could give, but you knew that it also meant he needed to get to work.

“‘Formerly gamma?’ Why’s that?” Bruce asked, somehow ignoring the big picture here. I mean, you were just happy to get some visitors, I suppose. You’d answer anything.

“For a while, they went hand-in-hand for me. You’d be surprised at what could be accomplished when you put them together...” You explained, Stephen patiently listening beside you.

“But?” Bruce pried a little more.

“But then I heard about your little ‘accident,’ decided to take a break just in case. Refocus my research.” You felt your partner’s hand rest on your shoulder and slide down your arm as you watched Dr. Banner’s guilty expression surface. It wasn’t your intention to offend, you were just obliging to his curiosity.

“As much as I love hearing you talk about your career, darling,” Stephen finally stepped in, “I think we need to talk about the threat to our planet?”

“I was wondering when you’d stop me.” You chuckled. “That’s alright, I’ll just go pick up lunch for you three. Dr. Banner, do you like sandwiches?”

“I...yes? I guess so. Turkey and swiss is...I haven’t had that in a while.” He stammered, leaving you to peer over at your husband and have him give you a near-identical look. Sometimes, the two of you just thought that same exact things, no words needed.

“Will you two stop doing that weird thing where you stare at each other in silence? We have work to do!” Wong interrupted and you decided it was about time to head out.

“Love you, Stephen.” You said with an amused shake of your head, giving him a quick peck in the lips.

“Love you, too. Don’t be too long if you can help it, Dr. Banner seems to have a pretty good idea of dangers to come.” He told you as his cloak gave you a quick pat on the arm. You didn’t know whether to say goodbye to his outerwear, as well.

“I’ll see what I can do.” You winked and pat the red cloak back, heading for the door that your bag was hung beside. Now was the time for a walk to clear your mind, no “Thanos” or whatever the hell that was. Just the music to your ears that was Bleeker Street traffic and insufferable pedestrians. You just kept your eyes front and went on walking, you’d walk straight through crowds if you had to.

A few block’s worth of steps and you’d reached the deli that was so dear to your husband, now it was time to wait in line, a pretty long one, nonetheless. Maybe it was time to shoot Stephen a text.

Just made it to the deli ;) Anything I should be worried about out here?

Tony Stark is here. Outlook not so good.

Did you just magic 8-ball me?

“Dude, are you texting right now?” Tony asked in disbelief of the wizard looking down at his phone. It wasn’t very typical of him to check it in times like these, but you had a specific ringtone. Once he hears that ringtone, he replies. No matter what.

“I always answer my s/o.” He cleared his throat and stashed his phone away.

“At least we have something in common.”

—————

The line at the deli took so long that you got caught in the crossfire of an alien attack. Was it unbelievably amazing? Of course. Was it one of the most terrifying days of your life? You bet.

You could no longer get ahold of your husband and you soon knew why when he flew overhead in an attempt of offense. You’re guessing that these people were looking for the Time Stone.

Desperately hoping for one of your wizard “pals” to come and save you, maybe have you fall through a portal and back into Sanctum, you just hid in an alley. This may be one of the lows in your life, but you’d see worse days soon enough.

And the invasion was over just like that. You, like many other New Yorkers, stepped from the crevices of the streets to witness the damage firsthand.

“Uh, Dr. L/N!” That same voice from earlier spoke, causing you to swivel your head and see Bruce waving you down. Since he was the first person you recognized out here, it’d be best for you to head his way. It was a maze of cars, bricks, and broken glass before you’d made it over to him.

“Where’s Stephen? Or Wong? Tony Stark?” You bombarded him as if he weren’t stressed enough, but scientists always wanted answers. He knew that from experience.

“The aliens have your husband.” A line you never thought you’d have to hear. This better be a sick dream. “Wong said he was going back to the ‘Sanctum’ to protect it, and Tony is also with the aliens.”

“At least my husband has backup.” You sighed with a slight hint of relief, but your stomach was still turning just thinking about what they might do to Stephen. If they wanted that Stone, they’d do whatever they could to get it. Stephen was as smart as he was stubborn, it’d take a lot to get him to hand it over.

“Are you going back home?” He asked as he snagged a phone from the rubble.

“I figure you have a plan, I’m coming with you.” You watched him freeze for a moment with a name on the phone highlighted. “Trying to reassemble the Avengers, huh?”

“Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, it’s going to be dangerous.” Way to state the obvious. You didn’t know if you could handle it, but...

“I have to get my husband back, I can’t just wait around.” You wouldn’t back down, but it was a little comforting to have someone backing him up. “Don’t worry, I’ll try to put myself to good use.”

—————

It has been...twenty days since the disappearance of several Earth-based heroes. Among them was Spider-Man, Tony Stark, and your husband. But today was the day you’d know the truth.

Half the population had vanished into thin air. It was hard to tell if anyone had survived the trip to space. You’d been staring out the window all day, just trying to spot the cosmic wonder that was “Captain Marvel.” If anyone could find them, it was her.

Just as you were about to nod off, a bright glare intruded in the sky.

“Guy? Guys! She’s back!” Everyone had been on edge today, so they were ready to dash outside. Your heart was beating out of your chest, this was the moment of truth.

Carol landed a beat-up spaceship onto the open field and out stumbled Tony Stark and what looked to be an alien. You stared at the ship’s door, waiting for one more person. Just one more.

Everyone was staring at you now, waiting for you to realize that your husband wasn’t in there. Once Tony caught sight of you, he pieced together who you were.

“You must be the wizard’s s/o?” He leaned against his fiancée and Captain America, struggling to look you in the eye. “He wanted me to give you a message. Uh...sorry, I’m going blank, rough ride.” He rubbed his forehead as you stood there in tears. “‘This will make sense later.’ Oh, and he loves you.”

“I...” Everyone was still looking at you with pity in their eyes. Yes, they all lost people, but you were still clinging onto hope. All of your optimism had been destroyed in these past few moments, you didn’t even know how you were supposed to take this. “I need a minute. I’m sorry.” You stormed off into the guest bedroom of Avengers HQ, leaving everyone around you worried. You didn’t know them long, but it was easy to bond through a trauma like this.

“Y/N?” Bruce knocked on the door. “Got a minute?”

“Sure.” You reluctantly answered and Bruce let himself in.

“I brought you carrots.” He offered the bowl. “It was all we had in the fridge, sorry.”

“We have to find Thanos.” You grumbled though tears. “I won’t give up until we fix what he did.” Bruce stayed silent out of fear, he knew what could happen to someone in mourning. People can get...crazy.

“We’ll do the best we can. We’re working on it.” Bruce explained as he set the food down on your end table.

“Take me with you. I have to be there this time.” You were in no way qualified to face an intergalactic being capable of that much destruction.

“Y/N, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.” He shyly countered you, using this calm tone was an exercise he learned during “anger management,” maybe it could help.

“I wasn’t asking.”

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @rorybutnotgilmore // @locke-writes // @sweetheartliz07 // @queen-destenie // @natasha-danvers // @lokihiddles // @frostedficrecs // @lotsoffandomrecs // @johnmurphyisqueer // @teenwaywardasgardian // @pappydaddy // @captainshazamerica // @freya-xo // @ravenmoore14 // @thisetaernallove // @ofthedewthesunlight // @canarypoint // @zoeyserpentluck // @randomawesomeperson102 // @spideyandtheboys // @ghost-bich // @wonderful-writer // @of-a-chaotic-mind // @groovyfluxie // @procrastinatingsapphictrash // @lxncelot // @swanimagines // @randomfandomimagine // @blizzardbabe // @agentshortstacc // @rosadiaz-sarayvargas-harleyquinn //

[lovesanmotion]

Answer - Jeong Yunho

summary: in which gumiho!reader / ninetailedfox!reader gets caught stealing persimmons by prince!yunho, however, one interaction between them spiraled more than what they have thought of

wc: 3k (this is my first time writing in the fantasy department and this is something that i somewhat have been passionate about! i really enjoyed writing this one and this one has become my favorite!!)

When Yunho was a young boy, his grandfather would take him to stroll around the palace gardens accompanied by Yunho's gaksimi's (housemaids), gungnyeo's (palace women) and his grandfather's uinyeo (female physician). It was always a lovely sight to see the former king bond with the next heir to the throne, watching them feed the fishes with bread or picking flowers together. One summer day, under the basking rays of the sun, the former king and Yunho took refuge under the pavilion of Changgyeonggung, the housemaids scattered quickly back to the kitchen to bring them snacks and refreshments.

"My Lord, the heat will not be good for your condition. May I suggest that we head back?" The female physician spoke kindly, bowing her head a little, but the former king smiled back to her and waved his hand dismissively.

"It would be such a waste not to enjoy this fine day." He spoke in a low, raspy tone due to his old age. "I would, rather spend my last days, with the future king with me." The female physician's lips curled into a tight smile and bowed her head. She knew better not to displease him and his grandson.

As the housemaid's came back with the food, five year old Yunho quickly sat on his knees and ate the flower shaped rice cakes. The former king, his grandfather, softly chuckled at Yunho before picking up the white tea pot.

"What an intricate design! This one" The former king spoke, holding up the tea pot a little higher that Yunho had to crane his neck up.

"Grandpa! I can't see it!" Yunho whined with the rice cakes in his mouth. He stood up and sat beside his grandfather. The tea pot had a painting of a white fox with nine tails.

"Creatures like this one truly exists" His grandfather pointed at the painting of the nine tailed fox before leaning close to Yunho's ear. "They think I'm crazy for believing creatures like this one, but I think they're crazy not believing that they really do exist!" Yunho chuckled at his grandfather's words. If his grandfather believes in them, so will he.

"I remember seeing one when I was boy" his grandfather recalled, pouring rice wine onto his cup. "I saw a white fox too! In the forest of Goryeo. What a beauty that white fox is." Yunho looked up and watched his grandfather smile to himself and bring the cup to his lips. "They say that they live for a long period of time. And can take form of any human they please to be. Feared by many, but I believe that it is the abuse of humans that drives them away"

"What do they eat, grandfather? Do they like rice cake too?" Yunho's asked, the innocence in him made his grandfather chuckle.

"They say they eat the heart or the liver of their prey, usually men" a chill ran down Yunho's small body. "But the white fox I saw, I cautiously approached with a persimmon in my hand. The white fox ate it!"

And just like that afternoon, Yunho and the former king, his grandfather, spent their afternoon talking about his grandfather's stories about that white fox he saw years back before they were called back by the palace guards to prepare for the Yudu festival happening tonight.

Fast forward to fourteen years later, his grandfather's sudden passing broke the hearts of many, including Yunho's. He was the only family member who loves him dearly. Yunho's father, the current king, was always busy with the scribes or out hunting with a few palace guards. His mother was a different story, Yunho's mother, the empress, loves to gossip with the sanggung's (palace matron) and nain's (assistant court ladies), apart from that, she loves adorning herself with beautiful jewelry that can blind anyone under the sun and having her paintings done by the palace painter.

Yunho, on the other hand, dreaded his life more than ever. Just like what his father mentioned to him before, he is at the age wherein he has to find a suitable bride for him and take the throne next. Just like that, his father brought neighboring princesses from different kingdoms. Yunho, who only wanted to devote himself in his studies and live his life to the fullest, even if it meant, breaking a few palace rules, did his best to make the princesses hate him.

One time, Yunho was growing bored with the princess when she was talking about her talents and skills that he started picking his nose and tossing it away from his randomly. When it landed on the princess' dress, she immediately left their castle. Another time while a princess tried to get close to Yunho, too close for his liking, he leaned close to her.

"I am not circumcised" his words was enough to make the princess be disgusted with him and never returned back to their land.

Recently, a princess from a distant land visited their kingdom with the hopes that she will make their only son fall for her. Yunho sniggered when she heard her words, earning him a glare from his father. While they were out walking in the palace gardens, Yunho stepped on her skirt, causing her to tumble down the hill. When she got back up on her feet, she was covered in grass and mud. Yunho, who was at the top of the hill, only watched her "accidental" misfortune. The princess was so angry that she told the king that she will never marry his son before leaving the palace.

"This will be the fourth princess coming into our kingdom. Have you no shame?" His father's words boomed across the royal hall where a few scribes and advisers witnessed the scene.

"You and your books have no place in this palace! At your age, I was already skilled at hunting and married! And if I were you, I'd given up and throw all your books away" The king spoke with such venom in his voice before walking out of the royal hall. Yunho was left standing in the middle of the hall. He didn't want to become like him, why would he be like his father? Instead of going to meet the fourt princess coming into their palace, Yunho set out of the palace to walk amongst the people in the market.

With a cloth wrapped around his head to conceal his identity, Yunho quietly escaped the palace, he remembered how his grandfather used this secret tunnel to get out whenever he was stressed with all the royal stuff around him. Once the bustling market greeted his sight, Yunho breathed the air and have never felt so alive.

He watched the children run around and play, others holding their mother's hand while their mother's make their purchases. Wooden carts being pushed, lovers strolling and eating. This was the kind of environment that Yunho has never seen until now. He was always confined by the safety and security of the palace and its guards, but being by himself, he has never felt so free and live. For once after his grandfather's passing, he felt happy.

The fresh fruits in the market looked vibrant and pleasing in his eyes. With hands to himself, Yunho strolled around the fruit area of the market, but a woman wearing ragged and baggy clothes stealthily took a persimmon from a cart and walked away. Thinking that no one saw her, Yunho followed her closely, for some reason, why was he so intrigued with a thief?

Yunho caught her stealing another persimmon from another vendor without being caught. He was impressed by her, this is what years of stealing training pays off. But on the third vendor, the woman was caught stealing and the beafy man caught her slim wrists.

"You will pay for that!"

But you couldn't speak and tried to pry the man's hand away from her. Yunho watched as you shook her head.

"What? You have no money? My business will fail because of you! You have to pay...with your hand!" The man held your wrist tightly and took out a butcher's knife. The people around them, including Yunho, watched was happening. Yunho immediately took the cloth above his head and stepped between them.

"Good morning kind sir! What is the problem here?" Yunho spoke with a smile on his face. The people gasped at his appearance and bowed on the dusty ground before him, even the beafy man dropped his butcher's knife and curtsied to him.

"Good Lord, what brings you here to a place like this? However, this woman right here is stealing from my business!" Yunho raised a hand infront of the man's face.

"This woman you speak of is with me. Please, treat her with some respect." Pulling something out of his sleeve, Yunho took out five gold coins.

"I believe this is more than enough for one persimmon?" The beafy man's eyes widened at the sight of the gold coins before him. Smiling widely he nodded and profusedly thanked the crown prince. Yunho turned around and spotted you behind him with your head hung low. Placing an arm around you made your head shot up at him. Yunho's heart instantly beated quickly. You who he caught stealing and saved your hand just now, is a beautiful woman. Long thick eyelashes, chocolate brown orbs, porcelain white skin and pink lips. He blushed as he leaned down to your ear, whispering "Follow me". You only nodded your head and away from the market you left.

Once away from the hustle and bustle of the town, Yunho led the you to a lesser crowded place, more likely through the entrance of the forest, where it is only just the two of them.

"A thank you would be nice" Yunho suddenly spoke, but you only blushed, not moving your lips to speak.

"Did you hear me? I said a thank you would be nice" Yunho spoke a little louder, peering close to your face. But your cheeks blushed a deeper shade of red. Once your eyes meet, Yunho took note of your cool grey orbs. They were brown back there-

You shook your head.

Yunho took him a minute to realize that you could not speak. Hence why you were communicating with him through your short responses with your head.

"That's sad" Yunho spoke, he took one persimmon out from your hand and started peeling it for you. As he gave it to you, he watched you delightedly take it from his hand and eat it happily. He wondered if you were born from the lower class, a slave to be exact. He then wondered what would have happened if he didn't come into your rescue. Would you still have your hand? Or would they meet the first time without your hand?

Once he snapped out of his thoughts, you were no longer beside him. He turned his head left and right, wondering where you could have gone without telling him anything. And not from afar, Yunho caught sight of your ragged clothing, hiding behind the tree, he watched as you walk and slowly bend down on the ground.

On the ground, you started to walk in all fours and with a beam of silver light, transformed into a white fox. Your tail splitting into two, then splitting into nine. Yunho's eyes widened and immediately ran back to the tunnel and back to the castle.

Later that night, Yunho's father was once again displeased with him.

"Why must you embarrass me in front of the Silla family?" His voice boomed in the royal hall room once more that the court ladies of his mother jumped out of fear. Yunho, stone faced, said nothing to his father.

"The princess came here and was waiting for you. But you weren't around" His father stood close to him, chest to chest and his face turning into bright red in color.

"Instead, I heard that from the maids that you were in the market! With a woman!" there was a pause "Is that rue?"

"Yes" Yunho spoke immediately but confidently. He watched as his father's furrowed eyebrows and expression softened before turning his back on him.

"Why do you continue to be like this? Do you not want to take the throne? Or do you want to live a life with that wench?"

"She is no wench!"

"Are you taking her side now?"

Yunho kept quiet to this.

"You speak when I'm talking to you!"

"I am not taking anyone's side"

"Show some respect to me! Your father!"

Yunho's blood began to boil, his jaw tensing. "When were you ever a father to me?" He spoke lowly, enough for only the people around the hall room to hear before leaving the place.

While on his way to his chamber, he passed by a window that overlooks the palace gardens. He swore in the corner of his eye that he saw a white fox sitting on top of rock, watching him.

From that moment on, Yunho would continue to become the palace's headache more than being a crowned prince, secretly meeting and letting you enter inside the palace and into his room. He would secretly bring you inside his room and ask one of the guards to bring him a basket persimmons because "he was hungry when he woke up from his sleep".

Yunho found out that you were a gumiho, a nine tailed fox who lived for about six hundred years, explaining why you could transform as a human. Instead of devouring human heart and liver, you preferred to eat persiommons because of its sweet taste. He asked if you wanted to become a cheonho, but you shook your head and ate more of the fruit.

When the sun would start to rise, he would let you out through the tunnel he knew. Watching you secretly escape and not wake the royal guards around. The little rendezvous made Yunho's heart bear faster, he could perfectly say that no royal daughter would ever capture his heart like how you could.

When the monks from the north came to bless the palace, all eight monks sensed a strange but weak yin energy as they stepped foot inside. Yunho's father tried to entertainment them away but as they walked towards Yunho's royal chamber, it was found that his room is the source of where the yin energy was coming from. And now Yunho was forced to put ofuda's (or talisman papers) to bring in more luck.

While the monks, his mother and father walked away from his room, Yunho stayed back and quickly tore them down. Knowing that once you step foot into his room, you would feel an unpleasant feeling. And Yunho didn't want to become the reason of your death.

Unbeknownst to Yunho, a certain monk stayed behind the castle. That night, the monk did not bat an eyelid down and waited if anything or anyone would show up. It was already getting late when he caught sight of a woman or who he thought was a slave secretly met up with the crown prince. Even though they were a few feet away from him, the monk could feel the dark energy around the woman. And closely did he follow them. But his efforts of following them and finding out what they were doing were fruitless and Yunho shut the doors of the castle behind him.

It has been two months and a half since Yunho kept bringing you inside the castle. He was already formulating a plan; a plan wherein he would buy a handful of silk feminine hanboks, shoes and accessories, create an unheard kingdom and present you as the unheard kingdom's daughter. But he never told you about this, he wanted it to be a surprise on the third month of meeting you. Because the third month signifies as the one hundred day he fell for you.

Yunho stared at your brown eyes. He didn't know which one he preferred, your human brown eyes or your grey fox eyes. But still, you were you. Slowly did Yunho's face come close to you and your lips met. It was the first time Yunho kisses a girl, but there was no awkwardness between you two. It felt right.

He enjoyed your soft and moisturized lips on his, leaning away to gaze at your face before taking your lips again. Slowly his tongue darted in and out of your mouth, his hands moving up and down from your back to your waist, your arms wrapped around his neck. And for a moment, Yunho felt a ball slip into his mouth.

It was the yeowoo guseul or a deep kiss, as his grandfather told him. As Yunho swallowed the marble, he could feel his energy being transmitted to you. But he didn't cared. At least if he swallowed the marble, he would forever remember you and not miss one memory with you.

As the sun starts to rise, Yunho led you out of the castle. But what he didn't expect to see were eight monks and a group of palace soldiers ready to strike you.

"Grandfather look! I caught a persimmon from falling off the tree!"

Yunho, now in his eighties, smiled at his grandson for showing him the ripe fruit that he caught in his hand.

"Will the fox gods be pleased with my offer?" Yunho's five year old grandson asked in a a small voice, Yunho smiled and nodded his head before watching his grandson run back to gather more persimmon's.

When the sun was setting, Yunho couldn't attend the festival, he stayed back in the palace and took a night stroll around the garden. Dismissing the court ladies and the palace guards when they tried to follow him. Saying it would be a hassle and he only wanted to be accompanied by his thoughts.

Yunho walked around, trying to recall his memories because his old age was one by one slowly disregarding it for him. He could remember a few things, but they were blurry. Underneath the persimmon tree, was you.

Yunho lets out a faint chuckle. "I remember you" he spoke in a low, raspy tone due to his old age. He watches as you smile and walked up to him. You who never age and still stayed beautiful after all these years.

"I remember you" you spoke for the first time.

(gif is not mine! credits to the rightful owner!)

[sapphicgarlic]

turpitudinem part 2

warnings: i mean..... its the 70´s and harry is a pornstar......

YOU DONT NEED NEED TO READ THE FIRST PART BUT LIKE...ANYWAYS here's the link ;) 

ONCE MORE thanks to the lovely @real-work-of-art for enduring this with all the errors and to my dear Casey @berrynarrybanana because this is part from her sex bucket list  challenge!!! i am very late to the part but here it is!!! i was thinking of keeping it and adjust more (my self doubt is thriving) but i decided to say fuck it. here it is!!!!!

If Y/N didn´t know she would be arrested for arson she would have burned the library to the ground by now. She needed to get out of the two story brick library she has been working at for the last 2 years before her body deteriorates and vanishes into thin air.

Cause of death? Boredom.

Dramatics aside, things can´t get more monotuos than this, she is sure of it. It's not like Rosemary, her 80 year old manager, was up Y/N´s ass and paying attention -- or at least trying--  to her every single move  or the loud uni students that came in just mess the shelves she just spent hours organizing. The fucked up thing about organizing books in a big place like this is that it comes back to bite your ass later: there is always someone that asks Y/N about a book that knows she didn't put in the right place and she must run like a maniac to find it before the person gets cranky.

No, no,no, in fact, Y/N couldn't have found a better place to work. A year round quiet place where most people that come in are too stressed or way too in their own head to notice that she is high as a kite or still drunk from the party from last night/early-morning. Being under the influence surely did help Y/N deal with anyone, putting her mind in a tranquil state where she actually didn´t care if she was called a bitch or a stupid library rat -- only if they knew.

Y/N truly felt bad about lying to Rose and Willam, other co-workers that was working during one of her shifts, about why she sometimes seems a little airy and too zoned out. The two were very gullible people because of their age (Willam was still in a private, very strict, catholic high school). So when Y/N shared her very “sad” childhood story about the time her mother let her fall off the crib, permanently messing up with her brain, and how the medicine was so strong that it made her dizzy, they both ate it up like it was Marie Antoinette´s brioche during the French Revolution (or something like that, Y/N didn't pay much attention to her history classes.)

She even got access to the roof! The very secluded and locked roof was disposable only for her when she was feeling extra lightheaded about “the medication”. Needless to say that Y/N would go there to smoke her brains out or chug Campari from her flask if her shift was taking too long to end or if some creeps got in to “study”.

With all of the benefits only a fake disease could pull off, wishing the library to burn down into ashes would require a major problem to happen.

Y/N´s problem had a name, curly brown hair and green eyes, that made her truly hate her once very loved job at the public library.

The problem is, after you fuck a buff guy that also happens to be a very famous pornstar in the backseat of his fancy convertable , life becomes dull and grey. And the fact that it was probably the best fuck Y/N ever had did not help her to get him off her mind.

It did not take long to discover that Harry was a true gentleman.

He didn't rush her to get out of his car and send her away after they were done. Harry made sure they had a fantastic time afterwards, smoking and chatting about their lives and getting to know the woman he fucked in his car. Never too pushy, even let her the last drag out of the joint! Having a nice talk with a man that wasn't trying to get into her panties was rather rare and Y/N thought it was refreshing.

Quickly offered to drive her home even after Y/N telling him it would be quite a long ride. Harry just smiled and drove around the coast for as long as he would before officially entering downtown, so they could enjoy the peaceful noise of the waves clashing. Y/N regretted being so nervous about meeting him, but alas, she couldn't have predicted his sweet personality.

“If you don't mind me asking, why did you move all the way across the Atlantic Ocean?” Y/N moves her head to his side, looking at his gorgeous side profile, trying not to have her words eaten by the wind.

“Money was getting really tight at home and my older sister got a job offer here. I came with her but not a year after she got extremely homesick and went back. I stayed.”

“So you didn't comehere to pursue pornography?”

“That´s fooey thing to say. It would be very dumb of me to do that, however, it would not be something I would pursue if I was at home, I will give you that. I just...stumbled upon it.”

“How does one stumbles into porn, Harry? That is what is fooey. But I guess you are right, I wouldn't do the same stuff if I was still back home with my family. Maybe we aren't that different.”

“You actually thought we were? We are made from the same side of the tape, darling.”

Unfortunately, their little bubble of happiness and bliss bursted open the second Harry parked in front of Y/N´s small building. A moment passed by before Y/N decided to make her way out of his car after mumbuling a small ´goodbye´. It was awkward, they knew it and the lady that was passing by knew it too. Her movements wereslow because of the joint and the amazing fuck she just had -- if someone asked her why her legs looked like they were made of jelly, Y/N would say it was the tension of carrying a heavy envelope full of money.

She was almost at the door when she heard his voice and she never felt more relieved.

“I can call you, yeah? Like...just to talk..and stuff?”

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

It didn´t take too long for Harry to call her, just two short days and her phone was ringing.

Talking when their schedules allowed easily became a habit for them. It was organic and there wasn't such a thing as silence, one would always be  rambling about something. Harry was exceptionally and consistently in a bad mood the rest of the week, on the brink of pulling all of his beautiful locks from his head. His employers and producers, in his point of view, were making an extra effort to mess up everything they could that week. Y/N always loved to talk and Harry welcomed the delightful distraction with his arms wide open.

His favorite calls were the ones that took place really early in the mornings when he is getting ready for work and Y/N is getting ready to go to bed after a party. Her drunk bluntness was the perfect pick-me-up.

“You won´t believe it, Harry. The guy fucking broke the pool table and ran away. The owner w-will be mad when h-he sees the damage.” She says in between hiccups.

“The parties you frequent sound way more fun than the ones I need to go to.” “Rich p-people don´t know how to party-y.” Y/N could feel her eyelids getting heavier and heavier with each word, but she didn't want to hang up.

“Ouch.” Y/N falls like a little mouse into his trap, trying to correct herself believing he got sad until she hears his giggles. “I am kidding. But you are right, most people from here are stuck ups.”

“You should come and party with us sometim-e, t-then.”

“I bet you would have more fun if I was there.”

“So cocky when you are the one getting ready t-to go to work.” Y/N yawns.

“You should go to sleep.”

“And you should stop working so much.”

“Touché, darling. Let's compromise: you go to bed and before you know it, I will be done with work. Sounds good?”

“Just because I am really really tired. Good morning, Harry.”

“Sweet dreams, Y/N.”

Roxy nor Gwen thought that Harry would be keeping constant touch with Y/N afterwards but they sure found it nice for her. For all they knew, he was a good company for their friend, very funny and up-beat. They never were too protective of Y/N because of her natural spirit of being assertive but it was very pleasant to see she had  new company by her side. Even if that meant she would be a little bit late for their Saturday brunch.

“Why don’t you guys just meet up again instead of talking over the phone? It is really dumb, honestly. Have you considered how high your phone bill is going to be?” Gwen says taking another bite of her eggs and toast.

With not a cloud in the blue sky, the three girls decided to eat on the outside patio of Bruce´s under the nice shade of a parasol. Maybe it wasn't the brightest of ideas since the three had partied until 3 am and they would start to sweat alcohol at any given moment with the only refresher being the ice cold water and orange juice they requested.

“Yes, I have. He has been busy with some shit that I didn't understand. Something about the development of a film being late or something.” Y/N picks up a piece of mango out from her fruit bowl and munches on it, not necessarily waiting too long to start talking again. Manners could wait. “And it's been like, two weeks, I don't want to sound desperate.”

“You didn´t vanish with Christopher last night. Actually, with no one, you were always in my sight. That doesn't really happen so I would say you are probably desperate for him.” Roxy chimes in and takes the black and bulk sunglasses off her face to clean them with the sheer fabric of her blouse.

“I heard stories of him under performing and I didn't want to test it for myself.” Both Roxanne and Gwendolyn snort, not believing a word that comes out of Y/N’s mouth.

“What?”

“And you didn't bother finding someone else? That hasn't stopped you before.”

“Wasn't Connie there too? She never says no to you.” Gwen adds as Roxy murmurs ´yes, yes´ under her breath.

“Fine” She huffs. “ Maybe hooking up with someone that wasn't Harry didn't seem good yesterday.” Y/N groans, closing her eyes in agony. The sun and the not-so-pleasant conversation hit her all at once. “I need new sunglasses, these are shit.”

“Don´t try to change the subject, Y/N, because I don't think you fucked someone after him and, as you said, it's been two weeks.”

“If this goes on for one more week, I will throw you into a nunnery since you decided to join the celibacy life.” Gwen teases.

“Both of your sex lives must be really boring for you two to keep tabs on mine.” Y/N lowers her head trying to make the sun not directly hit her face again. She should have chosen her other pair to wear today but her mind was still a bit fuzzy and she was already running late.

“Well, neither of us fucked a pornstar in the backseat of his convertible.” Roxy says nonchalant downing her water glass.

“In the middle of the day, may I add.”  

“Oh, really? Didn't know, Gwen.” Y/N´s head falls to her right and rolls her eyes to her friends who had a big smile on their faces. She was really not used to being the one with a romantic interest -- if she can even call Harry that. “Fair, enough I guess. I mean… he is a great guy and a good company so, yeah, I wouldn't mind spending more time with him.”

“Spending more time with his dick, you mean.” Roxy corrects her while cutting a piece of her toast and eggs and eating it immediatly after.

“Why do I even bother going out with the two of you?” Y/N huffs giving up on her sunglasses and taking them off, throwing them on the table, deciding that if she went blind by the sun, so be it.

“You love us”

“I wouldn't go that far.” Y/N inhales deeply, her body slumps onto the backrest. “Anyways, are you two free later? I need to run some errands and I am craving fries and a milkshake for later.”

“I have a date with Robert today and I need to nap for quite some time in the afternoon. Sorry.” “I was thinking of having a quiet afternoon and going to sleep early. If you really want some company I can go but I--” “It´s fine Roxy, really. Was just asking if guys were free or needed to hit the shops too.”

“We didn't fuck a pornstar and have some extra money laying around, Y/N.” Gwen teases.

Y/N throws her friend her middle finger making Gwen laugh.

“You know where Robert is taking you?” Roxy asks, shifting the topic and Y/N zones out imagining meeting up with him again.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

If Y/N could get rid of something permanently it would be her annoying conscience because if it weren't for it, she wouldn't be working the Tuesday morning shift at the library.

It was normally her day off work but the late call from a very worried Rose rambling about how William´s mom called her to say that her son fell ill and couldn't work his shift. The poor old lady was on her eighth call to find someone to substitute the guy. Y/N pitied her, feeling especially guilty about lying to both of them, and accepted the offer trying to ignore how early she would need to wake up the next day.

The only thing that was pushing her throughout the shift was the little naps she was taking every thirty minutes in different book sections. Turns out not many people were going inside a poorly dimmed library on such a pretty hot day like today so Y/N was stuck to reorganizing books while another teenage girl called Linda was the cashier. From a distance, she seemed really bored too and Y/N enjoys the fact that at her normal shift there were at least some people to interact with while being high. Far much more fun than collecting 7 different bibliographies on Abraham Lincoln and placing them on the shelves in alphabetical order.

Y/N was contemplating taking another nap in the Wiccan and Witchcraft section that was far in the back and secluded until she heard loud footsteps getting close to her.

“Someone on the phone is requesting to talk to you.” Linda says making Y/N frown. No one calls her while she is working especially since this is not her usual shift. The walk to the phone in the staff room seemed longer than usual, Y/N could feel her muscles tense and her breathing falter a bit. Did something happen to her friends? Or to her parents?

“Hello?”

“Thought you had gone missing for a moment, love. Weren’t answering my calls.” Y/N scoffs at herself, not believing she got all startled for this.

“Co-worker got sick and I had to fill in last minute.” She smiles while her back touches the mustard yellow wall knowing this wouldn't be a short and quick call. “The streets are getting dangerous, darling, didn't know.”

“ So you called me just to warn me about the streets? Is that it, Harry? Was thinking it would be an important call.”

“You don't consider me important? Consider my ego very bruised.” Y/N hears shuffling and other people talking in the background and her mind quickly wonders where he is.

“You know what I mean, Harry.” Her eyes travel to the boring looking room. Beige and brown were the main thing, a long stained wood table with four jabed chairs that matched the counter of the little kitchenette they had to warm up lunches. Would Harry surprise her and fuck her against the table, it would easily break therefore ruining the whole experience. Maybe the roof then?

“Well, I do have good news.” Y/N mumbles ´what it is, what it is´ during the dramatic pause of his. “The tape is finally ready. Even though it was a pain to get it done, I do think it was worth it.”

Y/N is stunned because a part of her thought that Harry was going to give up on it and burn the film. He has been absolutely cranky about it and how it was complicated to edit the tape so it was a huge relief to know it was set to go. However, before she can express anything, the door swings open revealing a fussy Linda with the weirdest expression Y/N has ever seen.

“Why are you taking so long. I am absolutely sure Ms. Rose doesn't pay you to chat on the phone and would be extremely sad to kn-”

“Oh, I am so sorry, Linda. It´s my head doctor, he has an important thing to tell me. Something about my head x-ray arriving from the lab and not being good. I-I--”

Y/N needs to bite her own tongue to stop herself from laughing watching Linda´s pale cheeks turn into a crimson shade of red. Her acting skills that she gained from doing theater during high school clearly paid off. The teen girl doesn't have the courage to even speak or say sorry, just goes away as quickly as she came.

“Sorry, Harry. What were you saying?” She says between chuckles knowing that, now, she could be locked up in the little room until the shift ended that Linda wouldn´t say a word. Probably would think that Y/N would be crying about the fake lab results.

“Head doctor?”

“It´s a complicated story. The girl tried to intimidate me so she definitely deserved it. Now she will definitely think twice before lashing out on other people. But I do need to stop traumatizing people, that lie is what got me here in the first place.”

“I could almost hear the girl's cheeks exploding over the phone, so I highly doubt you will stop. Sounded too much fun to stop.”

“It most definitely is.”

“Speaking about having too much fun and not being able to stop, I was getting to the point where I invited you over to my pad so you could watch it and give me your opinion about it.”

“You mean today?”

“If you aren't too busy for me since I have so little importance in your life….”

“I think I can fit you into my very tight schedule. You better make it worth it.”

“I most definitely will, darling, don't worry.”

“What time do you think? Because I do have a meeting with Brigitte Bardot and Cybill and I simply must not make them wait.” Y/N says in the most proper and lavish accent her mind comes up with even though she knows it sounds ridiculous.

“What about eight? It gives us a lot of time to chat before the sunset. Not to brag, but the view from my house is rather pretty but no-”

“Let me guess, not as pretty as me. You are a really smooth talker to get in a girl's pants.” Y/N swirls her index finger on the curly cord that connects the actual phone to its base. “I already have, I reckon. I don't have to worry about being smooth anymore.” Harry giggles.

“That doesn't mean you will get in twice.”

“I´m very good at negotiating, sure I can help you get there.”

“That is really sad, Harry. Having to negotiate to get someone to go under you, that just means you underdeliver. But I guess charity work must be done.”

“So you want my address or we should just forget I invited you?”

“Wait just a second so I can get paper and a pen.” She positions the phone on her shoulder, pressing the side of her face to keep it in place while looking at the cabinet for stationary. “You can say it now, please.”

“6187 Collington Place.” He says it slowly, repeating himself two times so Y/N doesn't get it mixed up. “If you want I can pick you up.”

“Thank you for offering but there is no need. I will get a cab.”

“You sure?” He asks once more as Y/N rips the paper off the little notebook, lazily folding it and putting it in the back pocket of her jeans.

“Yes.”

“So you will show up?”

“Maybe….maybe not. Guess only time will tell.” Y/N breathes out, looking at the clock on the corner. “I think I need to go before Linda thinks I died in here and calls an ambulance.” “Killing your co-worker shouldn´t be on your check-list, yeah. See you soon then?”

“See you soon. Bye Harry.”

“Bye Y/N.”

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Y/N screwed up and it is too late to turn back.

Her subconscious shouldn't have assumed that the invitation would include sleeping over because now she doesn't have money to pay a cab back to her house. The car was already up the hill, there is no way she could ask him to turn around so she can grab more money without making Harry think she bailed on him. All of this trouble would have been avoided if she just brought a purse with her.

Stupid Roxy and her “Don´t wear the purse! It's going to look too formal!”.

And now Y/N was standing in front of Harry´s house with no money to come back home. Great. At least she looked good. The contrast between her plain black long sleeve cotton dress with the shiny leather-like Mary Jane shoes really made it look like she put enough effort without trying too much -- that was what Roxanne said anyways. Even though the material of the mini dress didn't do much to protect Y/N´s body from the cold breeze, the stockings were enough to keep Y/N from shivering.

At a first glance, his house wasn't intimidating or flashy as Y/N imagined. They had just one encounter personally but Y/N knew Harry had an eccentric style -- the red heart shaped glasses and blouse truly gave it away -- so to see the rather simple driveway was surprising. The entryway was secluded instead of being the first thing you see and it surely was because of the bronze metal double door, Y/N thinks. Her first instinct was to knock but she stops herself knowing how probably loud it would be and rings the little doorbell.

Y/N´s eyes can't help but to peak over to the window. She could see the wide corridor and the statues and painting Harry had over the sides. The way the sunlight came through the windows and reflected on the objects made everything look extra fancy. Y/N would confess that it was kinda creepy how she could just observe the interior so easily but since it's not an actual room, maybe it wasn't as bad.

Distracted by the little golden reflexes on the frames, she doesn't notice Harry coming until it was too late and he is about to open the door. She takes a step back, as if he hasn't seen her peaking, trying her hardest not to look like a child who just got caught.

“Hello.” He smiles, putting one of his hands inside the pocket of his checkered pants.

“Hi, sorry for looking. I-I…” Fuck, her cheeks are flaming hot. Karma is a bitch. “ I couldn't help.”

“Creep.” Harry says seriously, the smile vanishing from his face. She freezes but her body feels like it is on fire, burning from inside out. For all she knows she might start crying at any second. “I am just fucking with you, darlin´.”

While he laughs away, Y/N tries to regain her breath and heartbeat to normal.

“You should have seen your face.” “Not...funny.” Y/N shakes her head trying to forget what just happened but unfortunately for her, her mind will replay it every time her head hits her pillow before sleep sweeps her away.

“Well, I found it pretty amusing.” Y/N lingers to respond, analysing Harry´s laid back outfit. Whatever Y/N thought she had done with the dress and shoes couldn't compare to the contrast of the white tank top and the ink on his large arms. His hair was disheveled as if he just woke up from a nap but it couldn't look better in Y/N´s opinion. “You are all dolled up for me? You look really nice.”

“I am starting to regret coming here.” “Nonsense, come in, come in.” He steps off the door, clearing the way from Y/N. “Sorry for huh-, teasing you like that. It probably wasn't the best idea.”

“It is okay, I think I kinda deserved it. After what I did to Linda and all.”

“Oh, yeah. How's your head by the way? Are you really hurt?” Harry examines her face, searching for something wrong.

“Perfectly fine. It’s just a dumb excuse if I am too trippy.” Harry snorts guiding her through the corridor to the main living room and Y/N is surprised. From the wooden high ceiling to the enormous pivoted window, the room had an unique charm and it was undoubtedly the selling point of the whole house. The green carpet matches perfectly with the brown L- shaped couch and the big yellow pouf next to the analog television. It seemed, however, a center table was missing because of the huge empty space.

“Want something to drink? I was thinking white whine but if you want something not alch--”

“White wine is fine.” She smiles and Harry´s shoulders relax before moving to another much smaller all glass hallway that must lead to the kitchen.

The soft last rays of sunshine coming through and the lovely view from the back garden and the pool which, at this time of the day, seemed to be filled with honey. The house was not too far away from the fancy shops and yet, it felt like Y/N was far away from the bustling city.

“Here” Harry comes back with two wine glasses handing one to her. She sips it quietly as Harry looks around, trying to find something. “Probably should’ve brought the projector here before you came. Fuck. I need to go get it. It’s in my bedroom.”

“In your bedroom? Isn’t that thing too big to be carrying it around?” From the last time she heard, film projectors hadn’t improved a lot on their shape and size to downsize to something more compact and easier to carry.

“Yeah, but I can handle it. Had to put it there in the first place.”

It turns out that Harry couldn't actually handle it, especially not with one hand holding his wine glass. A loud ´bang´ echoes through the house followed by some shattering that makes Y/N jolt and search for where it came from. She guides herself through the same corridor Harry first disappeared in and through the kitchen. The hardest thing was to not get distracted by the insane amount of glass and other decorative pieces, than to navigate through an unknown space.

When she does find Harry he is crouched on the floor gathering the pieces into his hands murmuring something to himself, trying to put the projector together. By just glancing at the room, Y/N figures it is a smaller living room with the same aesthetic as the other just not as majestic. She puts her glass down on a little side table and crouches down to help Harry out.

“I stumbled on the carpet.” Fortunately, the glass pieces didn't shatter to tiny little particles. Taking that out of the carpet would be impossible. “The projector is a goner.”

“I can see that.” Y/N giggles, Harry gets up putting the projector -- or what was left of it-- off to the side. “Where should I put this?” “Kitchen.” They start making their way before Harry quickly adds. “I am so sorry. Should’ve thought about bringing it out before”

“It´s okay, things happen.” When she was making her way to Harry, her eyes really didn’t register the kitchen and the skylight above the double sink. He opens one of the wooden cupboards. The backsplash and the corners had the same squared yellow tile and were even more eye-catching with the golden specs of sunlight.

“Made you come here for nothing. Here.” Harry gets a plastic bag so Y/N can toss the glass pieces in here.

“At least we got to see each other.” Y/N says before frowning. “You keep your cameras in the kitchen?”

Harry´s head perks to see what Y/N is referencing to.

“I was planning on taking some pictures but I forgot about it. I am not the most organized person.”

“I can tell.” Y/N laughs as she moves closer to the Polaroid. “You still have all ten shots.”

“What do you mean byI can tell’?” Harry approaches her after tossing the bag with a sloppy smile on his face.

“Nine!” She exclaims after quickly snapping a photograph of him and grabbing it. “You look nice.”

“It’s still blank, Y/N.” Now, they are closer. Too close maybe. Y/N´s back is against the counter and one of Harry´s hands is placed near her waist.

“My point exactly.”

“That's not a nice thing to say.”

Y/N looks up, facing Harry and his smirk.

“I never said I was a nice girl.”

Harry nods, licking his lips.“Can I?” He points to the camera. Y/N hums in response giving it to him. Suddenly, he takes two big steps back, increasing their distance. Y/N wishes he didn´t, having him so near was good, she missed it.

Y/N tries to angle herself a bit, feeling her dress rise a few inches.

“Part of me wished the tape hadn’t developed. I want it for myself.” Harry confesses pushing the button. “Eight.”

“Greedy.” She slowly walks over to him, picking up the still white photo. He places his hand on her cheek, caressing it softly and Y/N can sense her body melting and reacting to it, her cheeks hot and her skin asking for more.

“I can´t help with, love. It´s a shame you couldn't see it today.”

“That just means I need to come back here again.”

“Win, win, I guess.” Harry lowers his head to Y/N´s level gently pressing his lips against hers. Submersed in their needy kiss and lingering touches, both lose track of time for a while. It seemed that the last time they were in each other's embrace was forever ago so the urgency for more was escalating rapidly inside.

“Wait, look.” Harry whispers close to Y/N´s mouth. “The sun is officially setting down.”

“You were right, it does look very pretty from here.” Maybe it was because of how much of a clear vision his house had since it was a little up a hill or maybe it was his presence, Y/N couldn’t put her finger on it.

“I was also right when I said you are prettier.”

Y/N snorts, closing her eyes and smiling, missing the flash. “Seven.”

“Jerk! I wasn´t ready!” Harry ignores her comments, throwing the unrevealed photos on the counter.

“I didn’t ask.” He extends his arm, moving his hand. “Come over here.”

Y/N doesn’t bother responding, connecting her hand to his letting herself be pulled in his direction. The camera once again is glued to his face, aiming at Y/N’s even if it's too close to get all of her face in the frame.

“A picture of my huge pores?” Y/N asks, pressing her lips together trying to think about anything to distract herself from the feeling of Harry’s growing bulge from the light pressure of her hips.

“Relax your mouth for me, love.” He says, scooting his face a little further from hers and taking a picture. “Perfect.”

Y/N´s mind is foggy from desire, something about Harry paying attention to a small detail made her legs weaker. “I had an idea for the next one.” She smiles and Harry snaps the fifth picture. “It was not that.”

“Yes?” Harry´s face is still behind the camera when Y/N takes his free hand delicately, closing his fingers one by one but leaving the thumb up. She sticks her tongue out, placing his thumb there before sucking on it. Harry takes a few seconds to process what is happening and takes another photo. “Fuck.”

She takes his finger out of her mouth, smirking. “Down to the final four. You blew threethere.” “Fucking worthy.” He tosses them into the counter, not caring much about them at the moment. Harry lowers his face once more to Y/N´s level to kiss her. This time, however, it´s much filthier and needy. Now, he fully had a hard on and Y/N could feel it pressing against her, making her core ache.

Her hands getting lost in his curls, tugging them as she pleases. In response, Harry moans, wishing to throw the damn camera away and fuck Y/N right there.

“I want a picture too.” Y/N says, she grabs the camera and slowly pulls away from Harry. His hair was even messier now and his pretty pink lips shiny. He looked like a dream, his eyes glistening from lust and from the sun. “Take off your shirt.”

He obeys her removing his tank top off his torso. All the breathing exercises in the world couldn't make Y/N regain her breath. From his butterfly tattoo, to his happy trail to his beauty marks, it was a piece of heaven on earth. The sun making his skin look golden, making the ink on it look as if it was alive.

Y/N can´t help herself but to touch his chest right below one of his swallows. She can feel his breathing falter as she drags her hand down letting her nails softly scratch him. He hisses, shutting his eyes to focus on the warmth of her hand trying to figure out her next move. Y/N positions the camera, her index finger ready to press the button and take the picture, deciding that her other hand making a small appearance on the side would be a great final touch.

“Take the fucking photo already, Y/N. Jesus Christ.” She was also getting angsty and too touch-deprived but the idea of playing with Harry just so he would fuck her even harder was too tempting to turn down. “So eager.” Y/N taunts him before hitting the button. “Patience is a virtue, you know.”

“Fuck patience. I still have to take three more before I can fuck you properly. Give me the camera.” She hands it off to him with a sweet smile. “Take your dress off for me.”

“I don't know if I should. You didn't buy me dinner first.” Y/N tsks with her tongue.

“I think we are way past that point. And you did make me take my shirt first without dinner too. It's only fair.” “Touché.” Y/N grips the hem of her dress pulling slowly towards her head, letting the fabric fall onto the floor gracefully before her eyes go up to his face.

Harry doesn't move, taking his time to devour her with his eyes and appreciate the piece of lingerie she had on, mostly focusing on the garter belt above her lacy panties. After a long pause, he approaches her.

“Can I?” Even though he doesn't make clear what his next move is, Y/N nods, completely trusting him. Harry angles the camera to her cleavage. “I want a before and after.” “Of what?” She says before the flash goes off, her cheeks ablazing. Before she can press him to answer, she feels his hot lips suddenly kiss the sensitive skin of her neck hard. A moan escapes her lips as hands instantly fall to his hair, tugging it. Y/N thanks her past self for choosing black because if it was any lighter color, her panties would be see-through.

Harry continues nibbling and kissing her skin, lowering and exploring the area but not passing the material of the bra. It´s not night or outdoors but Y/N can see stars all around the kitchen until he takes a step back and immediately presses the button on the camera. Y/N´s chest was definitely redder and shinier from Harry´s mouth, tomorrow they would probably be more noticeable but that is the last thing in their minds.

“Can you sit on the counter for me, please? The kitchen falls quite once more and yet, the air felt heavy from the sexual tension between them. Y/N does what she is told and hisses when her naked butt touches the shivering yellow tile. She looks back at Harry, a fair distance between them, with the camera on his face. “Open´a bit for me, darlin´.”

He doesn't specify what, however, Y/N is not daft and innocent as she seems, spreading her legs so the soaked center of her underwear is exposed. Before she notices what she is doing, Y/N perks her bum pressuring her pussy against the tile releasing some of the pressure inside of her. Her body now in control, rolls her hips forward, her hands against the counter making sure she doesn´t fall, mouth opened from the satisfaction. Her mind goes blank as she gets lost in the feeling of the cold material against her cunt, forgetting about Harry and the camera for a moment.

Y/N realises what she’s done after the flash goes off for the last time and the sound of Harry´s steps move towards her. She would be embarrassed if Harry didn’t havea huge smirk plastered on his face and his cock wasn't so noticeably hard through his white pants. The urge of being wrecked by him was undeniably taking control, her core was already throbbing and needing him inside of her. The memory of it won´t do it anymore.

“I wasn't expecting that.” He says under his breath, laying the Polaroid and the photo far enough from them. Harry doesn't miss  beat, positioning himself in the middle of her legs, hands going straight for the side of her underwear. One of them travels to her mons pubis going further down, deliciously pressing both his palm and finger on ther wet overed core. Both of them hiss, Harry noticing how soaked she became for him during their “photoshoot” and Y/N from finally feeling him where she needs him before his fingers go to her waist again.

His nails grab the side of the lace material, tugging it down a bit before Harry looks at her to ask for permission only to find her already nodding.

“Fuck” Is the first thing he says after throwing her panties away from her body, mesmerized by how wet she truly became for him. His fingers subconsciously go straight to her hole, picking up her juices and spreading them over her labia.

“Harry--” Y/N whimpers as he circles her clit and buries his face in her neck, kissing it once more. Even if her mind is lost in pleasure and her arms are trembling, Y/N makes an effort to use one of them to softly grab Harry´s cock through his checkered pants wanting to give him something too. His mouth opens in an “O” shape and a loud moan gets out, his breath hitting her collarbone making her only more hungry of his response. “H-Hold me.”

Promptly, one of his arms goes around her lower back, Y/N didn't trust her body enough to not have something - or someone- holding her in place. With both of her hands free, Y/N fumbles with the front of his pants until she thinks she's found the fly and buttons. She undoes them but can´t take it out.

“Help.” In one swift motion, Harry drags both his pants and briefs down as well as pulling Y/N´s hips closer to the edge of the counter. His fingers continue to tease her cunt without properly putting them inside making Y/N go mad.

Feeling his hard cock in her hand is a heavenly sensation, she thinks. Y/N´s thumb goes to his sensitive tip, collecting the pre-cum there and smearing it down before wrapping her hands around him. Y/N wishes she wasn’t so desperate to have him inside of her so she could feel his heavy cock on her tongue and how good his faint veins would feel against her lips.

Harry´s mouth goes to hers desperately. At a glance, it just seemed like a normal sloppy and urgent kiss but both of them - if they could speak in that second- would say that it felt like their bodies were melting into one. Such an intense addictive feeling and neediness that both never experienced before.

“Please, Harry, jus-”  She whines with her forehead pressed against his, their lips only mere inches apart.

“I got it, baby.” Harry shushes her, pulling her even closer to the edge, close enough so she could push his leaking cock inside of her pussy. “Go on.”

“Shit.” Y/N moans wrapping her legs around his hips so all of his length would easily slide inside. “Fuck, Harry, fuck.” She whispers as Harry starts to thrust into her, it was the perfect snug hit, almost like his cock was meant to be hers. Y/N wraps her arms around his neck and desperately kisses him again.

“I won´t last lon-- fuck, you are so perfect, darlin´.”

“Me neither.” Y/N throws her head back as her nails scratch the back of his head. “Harder, please.”

Harry picks up the speed not wanting to prolongate their highs any longer, he needs to feel her cum around his prick now.

“C´mon, darlin´. Be a good girl and cum for me, yeah?” Y/N hums in response. “Yeah?”

She can't find enough strength to speak so she just nods her head, completely focusing on the bubbling sensation in her belly that grows exponentially. Harry continues to whisper little encouragements for her but she can't process any. The sensation is overbearing and the second her pussy starts to clench making him stop whatever sentence and moan.

“Just li-like that. Fuck.” Suddenly, her bubble bursts, if her pleasure was in control before now it completely diminished her sense of reality. Y/N´s body was shaking, her arms and legs going limp -- fortunately, Harry grabs her thighs so he can ride her orgasm down -- but it felt like she was floating away to the lilac sky. She could still hear and feel Harry´s last thrusts before he collapsed onto her.

Moments pass as if nothing else mattered. Harry´s hand goes to Y/N´s face, moving some of the hair that has fallen out of place, kissing her cheeks softly.

“Can you stay the night this time, darlin´?”

[hyenahunt]

Conquest: The Fool’s Fruit - 4

Writer: Akira

Season: Spring

Proofreading: royalquintet (JP & ENG)

Translation: hyenahunt & haranami

Nagisa: …Eden has no need for you. You no longer have the right to even sit by our side.

[Location: CosPro Office]

Ibara: Good morning, fellow members of CosPro! Your vice president, Ibara Saegusa, is reporting for duty! Salute~☆

Jun: Heya, 'sup. Thanks for all your hard work this morning.

Ibara: Ah, please don’t stop working on my account! I apologize for disturbing you!

All we young people are good for is having too much energy! We’re still at the age when everything excites us, I suppose you could say?

But more importantly, I’ve brought refreshments!

It appears that we’ll be at the mercy of the midsummer heat today, so I’ve brought along some samples from the ice cream shop I manage—

Jun: Ibara, Ibara—

Ibara: Yes? This isn’t like you, Jun; you’ve repressed practically all your individuality aside from your strange level of politeness. Could you kindly refrain from interrupting my business greeting?

Jun: Business greeting? You literally just dissed me outta nowhere.

...More importantly, take a look at that.

Ibara: Hm? What do you mean by “that”?

W-What?!

Nagisa: ......

Hiyori: ......

Ibara: (whispering) H-Huh? That’s rather odd. His Excellency aside, why is His Highness here?

Jun: (whispering) Don't ask me. I'm not Ohii-san's manager or anything.

Ibara: (whispering) Hmm… I felt that the most effective way to deal with this Conquest issue was to take down His Highness Hiyori.

(whispering) And thus, I had planned on having a strategy meeting with the rest of Eden, excluding him—

So I certainly didn’t expect him to be here! What should we do? Jun! I’ll court-martial you for leaking confidential information!

Jun: (whispering) Goddamn, why're you making it sound like I'm the one who leaked it to him~?

Nagisa: …What have the two of you been whispering about? You’re getting along well, I see?

Ibara: Indeed, Your Excellency! We’re simply two peas in a pod! Why, from the moment I laid my eyes on Jun, I was certain that we’d be the closest of friends—

(whispering in Nagisa’s ear) …Why is His Highness here, pray tell? Did you bring him with you, Your Excellency? You’re throwing a wrench in my plans.

Nagisa: …Yes. It’d seem like we were leaving Hiyori-kun out otherwise, and that’s not very nice.

Ibara: As expected of His Excellency! In contrast to the solemnity he exudes, he’s as benevolent as a cherubic young child!

But at the moment, he’s something of a pain in the ass! Indeed, I wish I could pull his tongue out before he makes any more sound arguments!

Jun: Wouldja please chill out a little, Ibara? You're practically spitting venom right now, y'know~

...We can't do anything 'bout the fact that Ohii-san's here, and it's not like we can just kick his ass out, yeah?

Hiyori: ......

Jun: (Well, Ohii-san looks like he's in an awful mood as always. He didn't even say hi or look this way...)

(What're we supposed to do about this? Just knowing we were gonna have a meeting behind his back would probably piss him off even more, wouldn't it?)

Nagisa: …Hm. Well, it’s fine. Just sit.

Ibara: Er, but... What am I to do?

Nagisa: …Sit. Must I order you to?

Ibara: ... (They both silently sit down)

Nagisa: …Good boys. Now, then, it appears that all the members of Eden have gathered; shall we begin?

Hiyori: Yes. Well, I don't know about Eden, but all members of both Eve and Adam are certainly present.

Jun: (That's how he's gonna start things off!? Savage!)

(Ohii-san, are you so upset about Eden forcing you to do Conquest — something you don't like — that you don't even wanna be in it?!)

Nagisa: …Right, then. Usually, Ibara is the one who facilitates our meetings. But he appears to be in poor shape today, so I’ll take his place.

…I am Eden’s leader both in name and in fact, after all.

Jun: (Woah, and now Nagi-senpai's calmly carrying on without even noticing he totally set him off!? Thanks to him, the mood's gotten tense as shit...!)

(Honestly, I wanna get outta here already~ Is this seriously any time to be talking strategies!?)

Hiyori: Hmm? So you've finally remembered for once that you're the leader of this Eden thing?

You're normally the very model of a convenient little doll, puppeted about by that venomous snake over there, so I'd been wondering if you'd forgotten or just didn't even know, you know?

Nagisa: …I haven’t. I’m quite good at remembering things. Actually, I’m unable to forget anything unless I try my hardest to.

…And, as far as I remember, this is the first time anything like this has ever happened.

Hiyori: Ah, yes. That's right, isn't it? How pointless all this is!

Things are finally going smoothly, with all of us getting along and having fun, and you dare to try and force a wedge between us all — even if it's all just a game of make-believe!

Nagisa: …Who gave you permission to speak, Hiyori Tomoe?

Hiyori: ...!? Nagisa-kun, you'd address me in such a way!?

Nagisa: …Unlike me, it appears that the rest of you aren’t aware of your positions. It’s rather tiresome, but allow me to remind you once more.

…I’ve said this many times, but I — Nagisa Ran — am the leader of Eden. In other words, within the confines of Eden…

…I am God.

Hiyori: ......

Nagisa: …And no one is allowed to speak without God’s permission.

Jun: (whispering) Ibara, Ibara—? Why's Nagi-senpai acting like this? Is he only just now going through his cringe phase?

Ibara: (whispering) How should I know!? It’s true that His Excellency’s sense of self has been developing lately, though; this may actually be the perfect timing for him to go through such a phase…!

(whispering) But it’s also possible that some type of bug infiltrated the cheese we ate yesterday and is now consuming his brain cells, I suppose?!

Nagisa: …Fufu. It’s only natural that you’re feeling perplexed. Up until this moment, I’ve more or less followed your instructions without complaint.

…I believed in you. And I loved you. I had faith that there was no need for me to say anything, as you would guide me well.

…However, it appears that I was wrong.

…Therefore, I — the one who acts as God — must now use the authority I possess to make you move according to my wishes.

…I will reveal the path that we must take in order to overcome this calamity known as Conquest, which has shaken Eden to its core.

…I lament the fact that it must come to this. Could you not even give me the shortest moment of peace and tranquility?

…I’ve truly lost all hope in you.

Ibara: ......

Nagisa: …And that applies to you in particular, Hiyori Tomoe. I’m not merely disappointed in you — you’ve incurred my wrath, as well.

Hiyori: Like I said, don't address me that way—

Nagisa: …With your own two hands, you cast away the honor that is serving God, abandoned your post, and caused our mighty rule to stagnate with your selfish actions.

…You have dishonored us, scorned our worth. And you have greatly displeased me.

…And, thus, you are not fit to be a member of Eden. There is no merit in allowing you to remain within this eternal kingdom overflowing with joy that I — God — govern.

Hiyori: ......

Nagisa: …I’ll put it simply. You’re all fools; it appears that you are unable to understand the words of God as they are.

Hiyori Tomoe. Eden’s Second-in-Command. O one-winged angel who presides over Eve.

…Should you continue to oppose the fate known as Conquest that awaits us, rejecting the commandment that you must follow…

…Eden has no need for you. You no longer have the right to even sit by our side.

Hiyori: ......

Nagisa: …If you do not cease in your hubris — if you choose to continue abandoning your professional duties and acting however you’d please…

…As God, I shall expel you from Eden for all eternity.

✦✦✦✦✦

← prev ✦ all ✦ next →